Free Web NovelChapter 134: Chapter 133: The Young Master’s Means
In any circle of the rich and powerful, the first thing they always look at is your background.
Zhao Tianpeng belonged to the category of those with a "bad" background.
His father, Zhao Jigang, was the president of the Shenghai Martial Dao Association and the head of the Shenghai Martial Arts Troupe. He had over a dozen martial arts halls and dozens of escort agencies of all sizes under his control...
To outsiders, it was an impressive resume. But in the eyes of the true elite, he wasn’t shit.
They would only remember that his father, Zhao Jigang, once hauled sacks on the docks at Eighteen Piers, and that his mother used to be a fishmonger’s girl under the Qinglian Gang’s Cao Yun Hall.
He’d don his fine brocade robes, and those young masters in their Western suits would politely call him "Young Master Wu" to his face. But the moment his back was turned, they would laugh at him for being an uncouth hick who couldn’t be seen in polite company.
That was why Luo Chengying looked down on him, treating him as nothing more than a dog to be summoned and dismissed at will.
’Fuck the Four Young Masters of Shenghai!’
’There were only ever three Four Young Masters of Shenghai! And he, Zhao Tianpeng, was only ever there to fill a seat!’
And so, Zhao Tianpeng set his sights on the "widow" from the Su Erjia Luo Clan.
He had made specific inquiries. The woman’s name was Su Hui. Though she had been married off at thirteen, she was wed to a man with a short life, and her husband died before she even officially joined his family.
She was now in her early thirties, with a first-class figure and appearance.
If he could marry her, Zhao Tianpeng would have a connection to the "imperial relatives" of the old dynasty. Then, even if the nouveau riche of Shenghai still looked down on him, he could find his place among the old dynastic relics and righteously scorn them in return!
’If this works out, what does that business with Hong Yi even matter? When I get home, not only will Dad not blame me, he’ll even praise me and say, "Well done!"’
"Young Master, we should put Miss Su aside for now... Something big has happened!"
The man in the small skullcap was bent at the waist, his head beaded with sweat and his face a mask of anxiety.
Seeing the man’s state, Zhao Tianpeng’s heart dropped. He immediately thought of what happened to Hong Yi, but his tone remained firm. "What could possibly be more important than Miss Su?"
"Your house in the New Realm, and your cars—someone set them on fire this morning! They’re all gone!"
"What?!"
Zhao Tianpeng could no longer maintain his composure. He shot to his feet.
"Which car?"
Zhao Tianpeng’s eyes bulged—he owned several vehicles, most of them traditional horse-drawn carriages. He only had one modern automobile, which he had pestered his parents for ages to buy. He only ever brought it out for high-class Western parties to show off.
"They all burned. There’s not even a shell left."
Wiping his sweat, the man continued, "Also, the martial arts halls and escort agencies the Old Master had you manage have been smashed up..."
Zhao Tianpeng was so furious his vision went dark. "Who did it?!"
"The Qinglian Gang."
The man’s face was a mask of misery. "They even disrupted the family’s main businesses. The martial arts halls are one thing, but the escort agencies are a complete disaster...
Right now, all the major docks in Shenghai are prohibiting the Zhao Family’s escort ships from entering or leaving."
’The Qinglian Gang... Fu Lingjun!’
Zhao Tianpeng hissed the name through clenched teeth, squeezing the two jade Baoding balls in his hand so hard they creaked.
’In Shenghai, only the Qinglian Gang had the power to shut down transport at the docks.’
’Burning houses, torching cars, smashing up halls... these were textbook gang tactics.’
’And to be targeted so ferociously by the Qinglian Gang... he didn’t need to think to know this was the blowback from the failed plot he, Luo Chengying, and the other had concocted.’
At this thought, Zhao Tianpeng grew even more frustrated.
’Damn it all. The plan was Luo Chengying’s idea, and the details were Chen Qingyuan’s. He had just provided some support from the sidelines.’
’The plan failed, and those two lost nothing. They just walked away like it was nothing. But he had not only lost a master from his father’s generation—a Tongxuan Realm expert—but was now left to face all of the ferocious retaliation alone.’
’How was that fair?’
"Young Master, the Old Master... he says you are to return home at once."
"I know."
Zhao Tianpeng suppressed his rage and humiliation, took a deep breath, and waved his hand dismissively. "Get the car."
"Young Master... we don’t have a car."
"Then hurry up and call for one!"
"Yes, yes."
The man bobbed his head, bowed, and scurried out of the room.
Zhao Tianpeng rolled his eyes in frustration and was about to step out of the private box.
Just then, a flurry of chaotic footsteps sounded from outside.
"Is Zhao Tianpeng in here?"
"May I ask what business you gentlemen have with Young Master Zhao?"
"Get out of the way!"
Before Zhao Tianpeng could even react to the voices, there was a loud RUSTLE. The curtain to his private box was violently flung open. A crowd of patrol police in dark green uniforms, armed with Western rifles, poured in, instantly filling the VIP box to the brim. Even the decorative screen used for privacy was shoved into a corner.
The man in the lead was a portly fellow with slick, neat hair and a ruddy face. His eyes lit up the moment he saw Zhao Tianpeng.
"You’re Zhao Tianpeng?"
Zhao Tianpeng’s throat bobbed. Forcing himself to remain calm, he nodded. "I am."
"Arrest him!"
Several patrol police immediately moved forward, grabbing Zhao Tianpeng by the shoulders. He was both shocked and enraged. "What are you doing?" he struggled, "By what right are you arresting me?"
The portly officer sneered. "We have reason to suspect you’re connected to the recent murders of several Westerners in the Luozu Concession. Please cooperate with our investigation at the Patrol Office."
"That’s bullshit!"
Zhao Tianpeng froze, then roared, "I haven’t been to the Luozu Concession in almost half a year!"
"That’s not for you to decide. We’ll know the truth after our investigation."
"Fu Lingjun sent you!"
Zhao Tianpeng stared at the portly officer, hissing the words through clenched teeth.
The portly officer smiled noncommittally.
Staring down the dark muzzles of a dozen rifles, Zhao Tianpeng took a deep breath and, surprisingly, calmed down. He let them hold him by the shoulders.
"I’ll go with you, but I need to make a phone call."
"Hoping to get help from Young Master Luo Chengying?"
the portly officer asked with a grin.
Zhao Tianpeng shot him a sidelong glance and sneered but said nothing.
The officer took a step forward, leaned in close to pat Zhao Tianpeng’s chest, and sighed. "Ah, Young Master Zhao, I’d advise you not to waste your energy..."
Zhao Tianpeng frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
The portly officer looked at him with something akin to pity. "Do you know why it’s us, the Luozu Concession Patrol Police, who came to arrest you?
The arrest warrant came directly from the Ronnia Embassy. For something like this, unless Commander Luo himself from the Security Command Headquarters gives the order, nobody in all of Shenghai can get you out.
Not even Young Master Luo.
For the foreseeable future, just behave yourself and stay put in our Patrol Office. We’ll see when that big shot you offended finally cools off. If he’s in a good mood one day, maybe he’ll let you go."
With that, he ignored Zhao Tianpeng’s dumbfounded expression and gave a grand wave of his hand. "Take him away!"
The dozen or so patrol police immediately frog-marched Zhao Tianpeng out of the box. Soon, Young Master Zhao’s humiliated and indignant roars echoed throughout the entire Wenhe Theater Opera Garden. "Let me go! I’m being framed!
I want to see my father! I want to see Luo Chengying! I want to see Chen Qingyuan—"
In a nearby VIP box, a young serving girl pulled her head back from where she’d been peeking curiously through the crack in the door. She closed it and turned around, unable to hide the delighted expression on her face.
"Miss, it looks like that man, Zhao, offended someone important. The police just took him away.
Thank heavens! Now that pest won’t be sticking to us anymore..."
But the elegant, refined woman in a qipao sitting inside the box seemed not to have heard a word her maid said. Her gaze remained fixed on the opera stage below.
Suddenly, she spoke softly. "Suisui, do you have any silver coins?"
"I do."
The girl hurriedly fumbled in her pockets, unable to stop herself from muttering, "Miss, are you going to throw silver coins at the stage again?
If the Old Madam finds out, she’s sure to scold you again.
You’ve been like a different person ever since you came back, you barely even listen to the Old Madam anymore..."
"You’re such a chatterbox."
The refined woman took the silver coins from the girl, chiding her with a laugh.
She paused, gazing at the few silver coins in her palm, her voice soft, as if talking to herself. "You wouldn’t understand.
I went to the Luan River when I was thirteen. For almost twenty years, I was ’Granny Lin.’"
She lifted her eyes, the shifting lights from the stage reflecting in their depths. "Now, the Lin Family is scattered.
I just want to be... Su Hui."
At the memory of something, a smile suddenly touched her lips. Mimicking the dashing yet imperious air of someone from her past, she leaned forward and tossed the silver coins forcefully toward the stage.
She immediately shrank back after throwing them, like a child caught doing something naughty—her expression was one of guilt, but she couldn’t hide the smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.
.....
「Ding Family, Ink Garden.」
Inside the training hall, Fu Juemin was bare-chested. His hands were plunged into a deep vat filled with a murky medicinal liquid and colorful poisons, and he allowed foot-long centipedes to crawl and coil around his arms.
Beside him, Big Cat delivered a report, his face devoid of expression.
"He didn’t resist arrest?"
Hearing that Zhao Tianpeng had been taken away quietly by the Luozu Concession Patrol Office, a flicker of distinct regret crossed Fu Juemin’s refined features.
"It seems he’s not completely stupid, then."
Beforehand, he had given special instructions to the Concession Patrol Police: if Zhao Tianpeng showed any sign of resistance, they were to shoot him dead on the spot.
What a shame.
