Vicious Dog at the Door

In the dilapidated courtyard, the wind stirred a few withered leaves, swirling them down beside Qian Dagui's expensive cloud brocade official boots.

Fang Mo held the thousand-tael silver note in his hand, his fingertip gently stroking the paper, feeling its fine texture and the faint scent of ink.

This touch felt more real and moving than the skin of any woman in this world.

He raised his head, re-examining the plump young man with a beaming smile before him.

Before, no matter how he looked at the kid, he seemed foolish. Now, he looked pleasing to the eye. That wasn't clear-headed stupidity; it was clearly the compassion of great wisdom hidden in foolishness, the generosity that saves all beings.

"Brother Qian."

Fang Mo took a step forward, slinging an arm around Qian Dagui's shoulders, his gesture as intimate as if they were long-lost brothers.

"Uncle Wang left in a hurry just now and didn't get a chance to ask properly. Your father is?"

Qian Dagui was overwhelmed by this sudden warmth. Two red patches bloomed on his pale, plump face as he scratched his head and chuckled foolishly, "My father is Qian Wansan. He just dabbles in silk and porcelain in Jiangnan, a small business to make a living. It's not worth mentioning, really not worth mentioning."

"Pfft—cough cough cough!"

Yan Wangchou, squatting in the corner, puffing on his pipe, choked on a mouthful of smoke, coughing his lungs out. His old face turned a deep purple, and tears streamed from his eyes.

Qian Wansan? Small business?

In this vast world, who didn't know the Qian family of Jiangnan? They were magnates known as "Half the Nation's Wealth," rumored to be so rich that if the national treasury ran dry, the Minister of Revenue would have to visit the Qian family for tea.

Fang Mo's hand also froze for a moment, then he tightened his grip.

This wasn't just a money tree; it was like inviting a living god of wealth!

"So, you are Young Master Qian."

Fang Mo's smile became ten times more sincere.

"Since you've entered the door of the Seventh Small Flag, we are brothers by different mothers. In the territory of Wannian County, even if the sky falls, your brother will hold it up with his own spine!"

Qian Dagui's eyes welled up with emotion. He clasped Fang Mo's hand in return, "Brother Fang! To be honest, my father sent me to the Divine Capital hoping I'd broaden my horizons, not just be a useless spendthrift at home. I see that although Brother Fang's appearance is... somewhat fierce, your eyes hold righteousness. You must be someone who can accomplish great things!"

Fang Mo's lips twitched. Fierce? That was called imposing.

He didn't explain, turning instead to the other two old rogues who had already pocketed the silver notes.

"Old Yan, Iron Bull."

Fang Mo gestured to the overgrown weeds in the courtyard and the dilapidated houses with leaky roofs, his tone becoming more commanding.

"Now that we have provisions, shouldn't we renovate our base? Our Seventh Small Flag is going to do great things, we can't live worse than beggars, can we?"

Yan Wangchou flicked the ash from his pipe, a smile blooming on his old face. "What the boss says is right. As long as the money is in place, this courtyard can become a palace by tomorrow. Coincidentally, Iron Bull, this big傻大个 (silly big guy), has plenty of strength and is good at moving bricks and building walls."

Iron Bull, who was working at the forge, heard his name and stopped swinging his hundred-pound sledgehammer, grinning foolishly and revealing a row of white teeth.

As long as he was paid, forget building walls; he could even tear down two sections of the Divine Capital's city walls.

"Alright, I'll leave this to you." Fang Mo waved his hand and took out the hundred taels of deposit he had swindled from Li Mingyue, tossing it to Yan Wangchou. "This is public funds. Take it to buy some wine and meat. Tonight, our brothers will have a good feast to welcome Brother Qian!"

With Qian Dagui as their benefactor, Fang Mo's backbone instantly stiffened considerably.

However, good moods were easily interrupted.

"Bang!"

A loud noise shattered the harmony in the courtyard.

The already precarious wooden door let out a mournful cry, and the entire door panel flew inward, smashing heavily onto the ground, breaking into pieces and kicking up a cloud of dust.

Seven or eight burly men in the uniform of the Punishment Department, surrounding a man with a brutish face and arrogant expression, swaggered in.

They stepped on the broken door panel as if stepping on the face of the Seventh Small Flag.

"Who's the new Captain Fang? Get your ass out here!"

The man in the lead roared, his eyes arrogantly sweeping over everyone in the courtyard, finally settling on Fang Mo, who was the most well-dressed.

Yan Wangchou had appeared behind Fang Mo at some point and whispered, "That's the General Flag of the Fourth Small Flag, Zhao Laoxi. He's a notorious troublemaker, one of Lei Heng's confidants."

Fang Mo understood. This was a show of force.

Gu Yichuan had just died, his body not yet cold, and as his men dispersed, this piece of fat naturally attracted hungry wolves.

Fang Mo didn't get angry; a lazy smile even played on his lips.

He dug in his ear and asked slowly, "What are you howling for? Did someone die at home?"

Zhao Laoxi saw that the newcomer wasn't only unafraid but dared to talk back, and he immediately flew into a rage.

He stepped forward, almost shoving his face in front of Fang Mo's, spitting as he spoke, "Kid, you're new and don't know the rules, right? The protection money for this East City, when Gu Yichuan was here, we two families, West and Seventh, split it fifty-fifty. Now that you're here, shouldn't the rules continue?"