Everything was progressing steadily according to Lu Chen's plans.
South City had forty-two lottery stalls in total. Once each stall's business had stabilized, its average daily takings came to around one tael of silver, give or take. By that estimate, the combined daily turnover from all the stalls was close to fifty taels, or fifteen hundred taels a month.
Unfortunately, a tree might wish for stillness, but the wind would not cease.
The foundation he had just laid had barely warmed before someone caught its scent and came to pluck this ripe peach.
That afternoon, Lu Chen returned from the martial arts school and pushed open the courtyard gate. Two men stood inside.
The first was a black-haired young man, tall and straight as a lone pine or a frost-cold spear, wrapped in a dark sable coat and cinched with a leather belt.
Beside him stood a short, elderly man wearing a worn gray mouse-fur jacket. He had his hands tucked into his sleeves and a smile on his face, his back slightly stooped and his features buried beneath a mass of wrinkles. He greeted people with a smile already on his face, his eyes curved like those of Maitreya, the Buddha enshrined in temples.
Lu Chen's brows lowered almost imperceptibly.
He had never seen either of them before. The young man in particular stirred the Internal Force in his dantian with his aura. He must be an External Force martial artist. They had not come with good intentions.
Without changing his expression, he cupped his hands. "Who are you two? What do you want with me?"
The short old man smiled placidly and said slowly, "I never thought that someone like you, young Master Lu, leader of the Orphan Gang and a dignified External Force martial artist, would be holed up in such a poor place as Sheep Dung Alley. This old man certainly didn't expect it."
At the words "Orphan Gang," a trace of helplessness stirred in Lu Chen's heart.
It wasn't a nickname he had given himself.
Lu Chen had been an orphan since childhood, and most of the brothers who first followed him were orphans too. At some point, people all over South City had begun calling them that in mockery. The name held a measure of contempt, but it also laid bare the roots of their origins.
Recently, Lu Chen's reputation had been rising, and he had become someone of consequence in South City.
Yet the name hadn't fallen out of use. If anything, it had caught on even more.
Names in the underworld were often like that. You didn't choose them yourself. Other people watched how you acted, where you came from, even what weaknesses you had, then casually gave you a name. Once it stuck, it became a label cast in iron.
Take the Rat Gang, for example. In the early days, they had called themselves the Fish-and-Dragon Gang—a name with quite a bit of grandeur.
But others had laughed at them. Wen'an County was narrow and had little water; how could fish leap through the Dragon Gate there? The gang members looked more like gray rats burrowing through heaps of grain.
Once that name caught on, they could never shake it off. Eventually, even they had silently accepted it.
The name Orphan Gang might not be pleasant, but it had become a settled fact. Lu Chen could do nothing about it.
Lu Chen looked at the two men and said flatly, "I'm used to living here. Who exactly are you, and what do you want with me?"
The old man kept smiling. "Nothing important. I'm just rather curious about your lottery business."
He paused, and a glint flickered through his narrow eyes. "I heard this novel idea was yours. So young, and already able to come up with a way to make a fortune every day. Truly, the young are to be feared. Unlike us old fellows, who cling to the old tricks passed down by our ancestors—rolling dice and betting on high or low. Our minds have gone stiff."
Lu Chen immediately understood who they were.
He looked at the old man. "You two are from the Small Knife Society?"
The old man's smile deepened a little. He cupped his hands in a composed salute, carrying himself with the steady air of someone long accustomed to a position of authority.
"Han Qiu of the Small Knife Society. A pleasure to meet you, Gang Leader Lu."
The black-haired young man beside him, who had been silent as a spear, now raised his eyes slightly. His cold gaze settled on Lu Chen, as if weighing him.
From the way things looked, he was Han Qiu's personal bodyguard.
Lu Chen had known this day would come, but he hadn't expected them to arrive so quickly.
It had been less than three days since he had raised his banner, and the Small Knife Society had already come knocking.
Still, Lu Chen didn't panic. He simply asked, "You came all this way to find me. What would you like to say?"
Han Qiu seemed surprised that the young man could remain so calm. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, then he resumed his genial smile. "Nothing much. Just a casual question. But since young Master Lu is also in the game, you should know that every crooked trade and gambling den in Wen'an falls under the Small Knife Society's authority. You know the rules, don't you?"
"Of course. It's just that..."
Han Qiu raised a hand with a smile, cutting Lu Chen off. "I understand what you mean. Are you thinking that this lottery is something new, and doesn't count as one of those old-fashioned gambling games with dice and pai gow?"
He gave a slight shake of his head, and his tone grew more serious. "This old man has lived most of his life. I still have enough judgment to see that no matter what new clothes it wears, gambling is what it is at its core."
Lu Chen fell quiet for a moment, then asked, "And what does Old Han propose?"
"Simple. People in the underworld are after money, nothing more. The Small Knife Society doesn't want to push things too far, either. Here's the deal: bring your stalls and your people into our Society. Pay us seventy percent of your monthly turnover, and the remaining thirty percent is yours to manage as you please. That way, we all make money. Isn't that the best of both worlds?"
Lu Chen shook his head when he had finished.
Han Qiu's smile gradually faded, and coldness appeared in his narrow eyes.
"You refuse?"
Lu Chen said nothing. Instead, his gaze shifted to the silent black-haired young man beside him. He suddenly asked, "How many Seals do you have?"
The young man seemed not to have expected the sudden question. He paused, then sneered. "One Seal."
"Oh."
The young man snorted, his gaze haughty. "One is enough to deal with trash like you."
Lu Chen provoked him. "Then what are you waiting for?"
The young man's eyes turned icy. His aura suddenly tightened, but he didn't attack at once. Instead, he turned his head and looked to Han Qiu for permission.
Han Qiu's smile vanished. He looked at Lu Chen and slowly shook his head, as if lamenting the fate of an object that didn't know its place.
"The young are always full of themselves. They won't weep until they see the coffin."
Han Qiu sighed. His voice betrayed no anger or pleasure as he gave the young man a slight nod.
"Very well. Ah Qi, teach Gang Leader Lu a lesson. Let him understand the rules of the Small Knife Society."
"Yes!"
A sharp glint entered Ah Qi's eyes. The blue bricks cracked beneath his feet as he shot toward Lu Chen like a black arrow. His fingers formed a blade and stabbed straight for Lu Chen's heart, his concentrated force needle-sharp and chilling.
Lu Chen didn't dodge. He sank his weight, twisted his body, and met the attack with nothing but brute strength.
Fist and fingers collided, and a dull boom burst out.
Lu Chen staggered back three steps. His right arm trembled, and blood seeped from his knuckles.
So this was the power of a Seal? It condensed scattered force into one point, concentrating its destructive power to such an astonishing degree!
Ah Qi's figure wavered slightly before settling. He looked at Lu Chen, all his contempt gone, replaced by bewilderment.
The force of the impact had numbed his fingertips. This kid clearly hadn't formed a Seal, so how could his body be so strong?
Some time ago, Lu Chen had broken through to the External Force stage by drawing cards. It had taken two hundred and forty draws, and his attributes had skyrocketed. Both [Strength] and [Vitality] on his character page had broken through the 300-point threshold.
The golden trait [Plum Bone] remained in effect, greatly increasing his overall defense.
The final two forms of the Plum Blossom Fist he had just learned didn't merely complete the set of techniques; they had also activated a hidden effect, [Resilience]: when attacked, damage was automatically reduced by 8%.
The triple combination of attributes, traits, and effects had built him a physique far beyond what his current realm should allow.
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