I'm Back

"Mr. Zhang, may your business prosper! May your business flourish!"

An experienced gambler cupped his hands in greeting, exchanged a large pile of chips, and entered the casino.

Zhang Wentao rubbed his cheeks; he'd been smiling all day, and his face was a little stiff.

"Casino."

He sighed softly; he actually preferred being a doctor.

However, Chongyang is not Jiangzhou; it's a higher-level city. Is he really going to continue being an underground doctor?

Those you'll come into contact with might be martial artists at the Third Refinement or even more powerful.

The old trick of planting explosives won't save your life anymore.

The casino owner was actually not bad.

At least, it's safe, right?

Zhang Wentao looked outside the small casino and saw a hunched-over old man, leaning on a small cane, swaying as he walked in.

His expression changed, and he quickly went to meet him:

"Oh, Old Zhou? I'm new here and haven't had a chance to pay my respects yet. What brings you here?"

The skinny, withered old man looked around the small casino, or rather, the gambling den, and grunted in response.

He said slowly and deliberately:

"What's your name again? Is your surname Zhang?"

Zhang Wentao still had a smile on his face.

"Yes, yes, Zhang, his name is Wentao. You can just call me Xiao Zhang."

The withered old man scoffed and glanced sideways at the middle-aged man:

"How dare I call you Little Zhang?"

"You just moved in and you've already opened a casino, stealing business from us old folks! You don't even bother to pay your respects to us old folks' business. You're something else!"

Doctor Zhang —Boss Zhang's expression remained unchanged:

"It's my fault. That's why I'm busy setting up the stall. Tonight, I'll personally host a banquet for you seniors to make amends!"

The withered old man didn't answer, but just gave a sinister laugh:

"Mr. Zhang, the casino business isn't so easy, I think you're..."

A taxi slowly came to a stop outside the door, and a clear voice rang out.

"Dad."

"I'm back."

Zhang Wentao, who was wearing a smile, was suddenly taken aback.

He turned his head in disbelief and looked outside the gambling den, where a familiar, frail figure was standing.

A surge of heat rushed to the top of my head and then exploded in my eye sockets.

"Fu Fusheng?" Old Zhang asked tremulously.

The boy swaggered into the gambling den and gave his father a big hug.

It's me.

"I'm back."

Old Zhang's hand froze in mid-air. He patted his son's back somewhat awkwardly, still finding it hard to believe.

Large tears fell down.

He choked up as he said:

"It's good that you're back, it's good that you're back."

He's an old man, he doesn't know how to say anything sentimental, he just keeps repeating the same thing. "It's good that you're back."

For no apparent reason, Zhang Fusheng's nose tingled with emotion.

He couldn't bear to see his father like this.

'Knock knock knock!'

The withered old man suddenly tapped the ground with his cane and said in a strange tone:

"Oh my, Mr. Zhang and his son have such a deep bond!"

Zhang Wentao wiped away his tears:

"Master Zhou, please excuse this. My son and I haven't seen each other for a long time."

The gambling den owner from the next street scoffed, glanced sideways at the frail-looking young man, and said slowly:

"I, this old codger, don't care about your affairs."

"However, I must tell Mr. Zhang that running a casino or gambling den is not an easy task."

"These gamblers, they're all so easily blinded by greed."

"It's hard to say when."

The withered old man grinned, revealing large yellow teeth, and pointed his cane at the frail young man:

"Who knows when they might chop your son up!"

Zhang Wentao's smile faded.

He stretched out his hand and gestured outwards:

"Old Zhou, you've rambled on enough, so please leave now?"

The withered old man spat, speaking in a sarcastic tone:

"I'm waiting for the drinks you'll treat me to, Boss Zhang!"

He swayed and staggered as he walked out of the gambling den.

After the withered old man left.

"Dad, who is he?"

"The casino on the next street, ignore it, ignore it."

Old Zhang looked his son up and down, then couldn't resist lighting a cigarette and taking one puff after another.

"Dad won't ask you."

He led his son out of the casino:

"Let me show you our new home first."

The new home isn't far from this small casino, on the edge of Seventh District. Chongyang has much better public security and urban development than Jiangzhou.

Even in Seventh District, there are skyscrapers, and you can even occasionally see airships flying overhead.

Zhang Wentao led his son home.

Number 306.

Upon opening the door, a spacious living room comes into view.

"Your mom still prepared a room for you and cleans it every day, just waiting for you to come back."

Old Zhang quietly wiped away his tears, then pulled his son through the entire new house before returning to the living room.

He pressed his son down to sit, without asking how he survived or how he found him.

Old Zhang poured his son a glass of wine.

"Your mother is still working; she continues to be a teacher, teaching middle school."

The father and son clinked glasses.

Old Zhang smoked three or four more cigarettes in a row, chatting about everyday matters.

Amidst swirling smoke.

Zhang Wentao suddenly stubbed out his cigarette.

"Dad has to go out to buy some braised food to surprise your mom tonight. She misses you a lot."

He only said that Zhou Guifang missed her son very much, but he never mentioned it himself; only his still trembling hands betrayed him.

"I miss you all too," Zhang Fusheng said softly, then laughed, "It's only been a month, but you're acting like I haven't been home for years."

Old Zhang didn't reply, but patted his son's shoulder heavily.

"I'm going to buy some braised food. You stay home and wait for Dad to come back."

"Okay, Dad."

Zhang Fusheng nodded and watched his father leave the house.

It's only 2 PM.

Are you going to buy braised food so early?

That's fine.

I need to go out myself.

Zhang Fusheng waited silently for a moment, his mind interfering with reality, his figure becoming blurry and transparent.

"That old bastard next door doesn't know what's good for him at all."

The withered old man grumbled and said to his son and daughter:

"He's throwing a banquet tonight, so arrange for some people to be killed off."

The eldest son nodded with a smile:

"Fine, so now even just any Tom, Dick, or Harry dares to try and steal our business."

The withered old man spat again:

"Oh right, where's my precious grandson?"

"He's in the backyard," the eldest son replied, beckoning his thugs over. "Your grandson is anything but well-behaved."

"I got him out of the police station, it cost me a lot of money. That little bastard, he's not clean, he played around with that student and didn't even bother to kill him."

"They even made the other party call the police!"

The withered old man listened, pursed his lips, and muttered curses:

"I'll chop that whole family up later too!"

Just as he was cursing and swearing...

Zhang Fusheng quietly left his home, his transparent figure already appearing on the street.

With a quick thought, he found the withered old man.

"Um?"

Zhang Fusheng did not act immediately because he spotted a familiar figure on a nearby high-rise building.

Dad.

My dad set up a Gauss Heavy Sniper Cannon on the top floor of a high-rise building.

Zhang Fusheng:???

He suddenly laughed, shook his head, and thought, "This old man really came at the wrong time. He shouldn't have threatened me like that."

Zhang Fusheng watched as an arc of electricity stretched into a beam of light, and watched as a scrawny old man who was cursing was torn to shreds by a bullet.

After finishing his work, a middle-aged man slipped away to buy some braised food for his son.

Zhang Fusheng looked at the chaotic casino and the burly thugs, and shook his head slightly.

One, two, three.

One by one, the thugs' heads exploded out of thin air, plumes of blood mist rose up, and the whole street descended into chaos.

And there was the eldest son, slumped on the ground, and the screaming woman.

Yes, he didn't forget his grandson in the backyard either.

When doing things, one should do them cleanly and neatly; a family must be united and orderly.

My master taught me that.

"Dad is not a professional at all."

Zhang Fusheng quietly returned home.

Not long after, Dad came home with three bags of braised food, all smiles. Father and son continued drinking together, as if nothing had happened.

Night.

Teacher Zhou returned home, chaos erupted once again.

"You've lost weight, you've lost weight!"

After a long while, Zhou Guifang, whose emotions had calmed down a bit, squeezed her son's arm, crying and laughing at the same time.

The family of three enjoyed dinner together after a long time.

Has Master come by?

Zhang Fusheng held two business cards, one from his master and the other from his Third Senior Sister.

He decided that next time he spanked the Little Bean, he would go easy on him.

"Yes, Hong Tianbao."

Old Zhang sighed:

"I never expected that you went into the Hong Ji Martial Arts Hall."

He was one of the Night Watchman in Jiangzhou, so he naturally knew the name Hong Tianbao, but he was preoccupied that day and couldn't recall it for a moment.

"Your master is extraordinary. He's known to the Martial Arts Master, but he's actually a very powerful grandmaster."

Old Zhang instructed:

"However, some of the things your master did in Jiangzhou weren't exactly clean."

Teacher Zhou then brought over some cut fruit and glared at Old Zhang:

"So you're clean now?"

Old Zhang chuckled twice, then suddenly became serious:

"Son, you're a martial artist now, aren't you?"

"I guess so," Zhang Fusheng nodded frankly. "I'm pretty good."

His parents would find out sooner or later; he didn't say too much because he didn't want them to worry.

Zhang Fusheng said:

"But Dad, don't worry, things will be peaceful once we arrive in Chongyang. There's something I need to tell you beforehand."

He considered it for a moment and continued:

"Because of the major events in Jiangzhou, my identity information was marked as dead. I am now in a different information file."

Mom glared at Zhang Wentao again:

"What's the big deal? Your dad is so patient, he changed my file without saying a word!"

Old Zhang shrank his neck again.

Zhang Fusheng was both amused and exasperated, and continued:

"My new identity information shows I'm already 25 years old, so I'm afraid I won't be able to go to university."

The elderly couple fell silent for a moment.

Old Zhang is alright.

Zhou Guifang's views are still outdated; she firmly believes that going to university is the best way out.

She couldn't help but say:

"You really aren't going to study anymore? But, but..."

Zhang Fusheng was helpless:

"Mom, I'm actually still a security guard."

"Huh???" The elderly couple were dumbfounded.

What is that?

Zhang Fusheng said shyly:

"And it's at a pretty high level, so it can't be explained in just a few words. But don't worry, if I don't want to go to university, I don't have to."

"If I had to choose, I'd be happy to teach at a university right now."

The elderly couple looked at each other in bewilderment.

There was a long silence.

Zhang Wentao couldn't help but ask:

"You brat, what level of martial arts cultivation have you reached? Second Refinement? Third Refinement?"

Zhang Fusheng considered it for a moment:

"It needs to be a little more than a billion."

"A little bit higher?" Zhang Wentao was speechless.

My own son, wasn't he just a month ago...

Teacher Zhou didn't understand what this meant, but before he was injured and crippled, Old Zhang, who had also been a member of the Investigation Bureau,

I deeply understand the meaning of this talent.

No wonder Hong Tianbao took you as his apprentice.

Old Zhang smiled wryly, then seemed somewhat tempted:

"Dad still has some old friends in the Investigation Bureau. How about we give it a try and get you in?"

Zhang Fusheng waved his hands repeatedly.

He solemnly said:

"Dad, you'd better not mention me to your friends."

Zhang Wentao was stunned:

"Why?"

Zhang Fusheng paused for a moment and said softly:

"The Investigation Bureau isn't as clean as it seems."

Zhang Wentao fell silent again.

The family of three chatted for a very long time, until late at night.

Lying in bed, Zhang Fusheng chewed two Calming Tea, and the Malevolent Energy that surged up in his heart was slowly suppressed.

I could hear my parents snoring from the next room. Moonlight streamed through the curtains, casting dappled patterns on the walls.

"That's great."

He fell into a deep sleep.

I haven't had a good night's sleep in a long time.