The tree that rises above the forest is sure to be battered by the wind; the tree may long for stillness, but the wind never stops.
Whether tree or man, when one stands out too much, trouble will eventually come knocking.
Even if it did not, those unseen whirlpools were always churning in secret.
Being high-profile was easy. One simply had to ignore the consequences.
Keeping a low profile was difficult; it required calculations in every regard.
Just as Qin He returned to his residence, in that food shop, a burly man said to Shopkeeper Hu Fu with a cheerful grin, "Shopkeeper, has business been good lately?"
"Oh, I was wondering who it was. So it's Dao Bu Er. Haven't seen you in months, and you're still not dead?" Old Shopkeeper Hu Fu greeted him through gritted teeth.
The two clearly knew each other, and they had clearly had some unpleasant dealings before.
"A customer is a customer once he walks through the door. Don't be like that—what ugly words those are." Dao Bu Er was shamelessly thick-skinned, his manner thoroughly sleazy.
"You are not a customer welcome here." Hu Fu blew his beard and glared.
As a somewhat renowned old shopkeeper in Sin City, Hu Fu had rarely suffered losses and often took advantage of others.
But then again, who could walk by the river without wetting their shoes? Walk the night road too often, and sooner or later one would run into ghosts.
Sin City was crawling with crooked merchants, and it had just as many troublesome commoners and scoundrels.
Two months ago, Dao Bu Er had mixed chicken blood with Cold Crow Blood and passed it off as Frost Flood Dragon Blood, swindling Hu Fu out of a hefty sum.
After the goods were sold elsewhere, the