In the dilapidated courtyard, the wind swept up a few dead leaves, sending them spiraling down beside Qian Dagui's expensive brocade official boots.
Fang Mo held the thousand-tael banknote in his hand, lightly running his fingertip over the paper and savoring its delicate texture and the fresh scent of ink.
The sensation was more real and moving than the skin of any woman in the world.
He raised his head and reassessed the plump youth before him, whose face was piled with smiles.
Before, the more he looked at the boy, the more foolish he seemed. Now, the more he looked at him, the more pleasing he found him. How was that clear-eyed stupidity? That was clearly the compassion of a great fool who hid his wisdom, the generosity of one who saved all living beings.
"Young Brother Qian."
Fang Mo stepped forward and slung an arm around Qian Dagui's shoulder, his manner as intimate as though they were brothers separated for many years.
"Uncle Wang left in such a hurry just now that I didn't get the chance to ask. Your esteemed father is...?"
Qian Dagui was so overwhelmed by this sudden warmth that he was flattered beyond belief. Two red clouds rose on his pale, plump face as he scratched his head and said with a simple grin, "My father is Qian Wansan. He just does a little business in silk and porcelain down in Jiangnan, enough to make a living. It's nothing worth mentioning, truly nothing worth mentioning."
"Pfft—cough, cough, cough!"
Yan Wangchou, who had been squatting in the corner and puffing away at his pipe, inhaled a mouthful of smoke into his lungs. He coughed as though his heart and lungs were being torn apart, his old face turning purplish-red as tears streamed from his eyes.
Qian Wansan? A little business?
Across all of Great Gan, who didn't know the Jiangnan Qian Family? He was the tycoon known as "Qian Bangguo." Supposedly, whenever the national treasury ran out of silver, even the Minister of Revenue had to go to the Qian Family's residence for tea.
Fang Mo's hand stiffened for a moment before he hugged him even more tightly.
How was this merely a money tree? This was a living God of Wealth he had invited home!
"So you're Young Master Qian."
The smile on Fang Mo's face grew ten times more sincere.
"Since you've entered the Seventh Squad's gate, we're brothers born of different fathers and mothers. Within Wannian County, even if the sky falls, I, your elder brother, will hold it up with my spine!"
Qian Dagui was so moved that his eyes reddened. He grabbed Fang Mo's hand in return. "Brother Fang! To be honest, my father sent me to the Divine Capital so I could broaden my horizons and stop being a good-for-nothing who only knows how to spend money at home. Although Brother Fang's face looks... looks somewhat fierce, there's a sense of righteousness in your eyes. You must be a man capable of accomplishing great things!"
The corner of Fang Mo's mouth twitched. Fierce? That was called majesty.
He did not bother explaining and turned toward the two old slickers who had already stuffed the banknotes into their robes.
"Old Yan, Iron Bull."
Fang Mo pointed at the weeds filling the courtyard and the few broken tile houses that let in the wind, his tone turning overbearing.
"Now that we have provisions and funds, shouldn't we renovate this barracks? Our Seventh Squad is going to accomplish great things. We can't live in a place worse than a beggar's nest, can we?"
Yan Wangchou knocked the ash from his pipe, a flower blooming across his old face. "The boss is right. As long as the silver is in place, this courtyard can become an imperial palace by tomorrow. As it happens, Iron Bull here has strength to spare. He's a dab hand at hauling bricks and building walls."
Iron Bull, who had been forging iron beside the furnace, stopped wielding the hundred-jin hammer in his hands when he heard someone call him. He grinned foolishly, revealing a mouthful of white teeth.
As long as he was paid, he would do more than build walls. He would even tear down two sections of the Divine Capital's walls if asked.
"All right, I'll leave this to you." Fang Mo waved his hand grandly, then pulled out the hundred-tael deposit he had swindled from Li Mingyue and tossed it to Yan Wangchou. "This is public money. Take it and buy some food and wine. Tonight, we brothers will feast properly to welcome Young Brother Qian!"
With Qian Dagui, this wealthy patron, on his side, Fang Mo's backbone instantly stiffened.
However, a good mood was always easily interrupted.
"Bang!"
A thunderous crash shattered the harmony in the courtyard.
The wooden door, already tottering on the verge of collapse, let out a shrill, mournful wail. The entire door panel flew inward and slammed heavily onto the ground, breaking into pieces and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Seven or eight men dressed in the uniforms of the Punishment Department's Captains swaggered in, surrounding a broad-faced man with a sinister expression and an air of arrogance.
They stepped on the shattered door panels as though they were trampling on the Seventh Squad's face.
"Who's the new Captain Fang? Get your ass out here!"
The leading man bellowed at the top of his lungs, his arrogant gaze sweeping across everyone in the courtyard before finally settling on Fang Mo, the best-dressed of them all.
Yan Wangchou had somehow appeared behind Fang Mo. He quietly warned him, "He's the General Flag of the Fourth Squad, Zhao Laoxi. A notorious hard case, and one of Lei Heng's trusted men."
Fang Mo understood at once. This was a show of force.
Gu Yichuan had only just died, his bones not yet cold. Now that his men had scattered, this fat piece of meat had naturally lured in hungry wolves.
Fang Mo did not lose his temper. He even wore a trace of lazy amusement on his face.
He picked at his ear and asked leisurely, "Why are you wailing like that? Did someone in your family die?"
Seeing that the newcomer was not only unafraid but also had the nerve to insult him, Zhao Laoxi flew into a towering rage.
He stepped forward until his face was nearly pressed against Fang Mo's and spat as he spoke. "Kid, are you new here and ignorant of the rules? The protection money from the eastern city used to be split fifty-fifty between our Fourth and Seventh Squads when Gu Yichuan was around. Now that you're here, shouldn't that rule continue?"
Before you continue