Small Knife Society, Han Qiu

Everything was proceeding steadily according to the plans of Lu Chen.

There were forty-two lottery stalls in South City. Once business stabilized at each location, the daily profit averaged around one tael of silver, with minor fluctuations. By this calculation, the total daily turnover from all stalls approached fifty taels, amounting to fifteen hundred taels a month.

Unfortunately, the trees desire stillness, but the wind will not cease.

This foundation, barely established and not yet warmed, had already attracted those who smelled the profit and sought to pluck this ripened peach.

That afternoon, Lu Chen returned from the martial arts school. Pushing open the courtyard gate, he saw two men standing inside.

The leader was a black-haired youth, his figure as upright as a solitary pine or a cold spear, wrapped in a dark sable fur coat with a leather belt cinched at his waist.

Standing beside him was a short, elderly man wearing a worn grey squirrel fur jacket. He stood with his hands tucked into his sleeves, smiling, his back slightly hunched. His face was a map of wrinkles, and he wore a perpetual, beaming smile that made his eyes crinkle, looking for all the world like a statue of Maitreya in a temple.

Lu Chen's brows furrowed imperceptibly.

He had never seen these two before. In particular, the youth's aura tugged at the internal force in his dantian; he was clearly an External Force martial artist. The visitors were ill-intentioned.

Maintaining a calm expression, he cupped his hands and said, "Who are you two? What business do you have with me?"

The short old man gave a mild, tepid smile and said slowly, "I never expected that a young friend like Lu, the leader of the Orphan Gang and a dignified External Force martial artist, would be holed up in such a destitute place as Sheep Dung Alley."

Hearing the words "Orphan Gang," a trace of helplessness rose in Lu Chen's heart.

This nickname was not one he had chosen for himself.

Because Lu Chen had been an orphan since childhood, the brothers who followed him early on were mostly orphans as well. He did not know when it started, but people on the streets and alleys of South City began to mock them with this name. It carried a hint of contempt, yet it perfectly captured the essence of their background.

Recently, Lu Chen's influence had been growing, and he was now considered a figure of some standing in South City.

Not only had the name not been discarded, but it had become even more widely known.

Reputations in the underworld were often like this—not self-proclaimed, but rather bestowed by others based on your actions, background, or even your shortcomings. Once called for long enough, it became an indelible label.

Just like the Rat Gang; in their early years, they had called themselves the Fish-Dragon Gang, sounding quite grand.

But others mocked them: Wen'an County had narrow land and little water, so where would the fish leap over the dragon gate? They looked more like a group of people scurrying through piles of grain, just like grey rats.

Once that name took hold, they could never shake it off, and eventually, even they silently accepted it.

The Orphan Gang—though the name was unpleasant, it was a foregone conclusion, and Lu Chen could do nothing about it.

Lu Chen looked at the two and said indifferently, "I'm just used to living here. Who exactly are you? What do you want with me?"

The old man remained smiling and said, "Nothing major. I'm just quite curious about your lottery business."

He paused, a flash of sharp light crossing his narrow eyes: "I heard that you came up with this novel idea? To be so young and yet devise a scheme that brings in gold daily—truly, the younger generation is formidable. Unlike us old folks, clinging to the ancestral ways of rolling dice and betting on high or low, our brains have grown stiff."

Lu Chen immediately understood the other party's background.

He looked at the old man: "Are you two from the Small Knife Society?"

Upon hearing this, the smile on the old man's face deepened. He cupped his hands in a slight, graceful salute, possessing the calm composure of one long accustomed to being in a position of authority:

"Small Knife Society, Han Qiu. A pleasure to meet you, Gang Leader Lu."

The black-haired youth beside him, who had been as silent as a spear, lifted his eyes at that moment. His icy gaze fell upon Lu Chen, as if weighing him up.

Judging by his posture, he must be Han Qiu's personal bodyguard.

Lu Chen had known this day would come, but he hadn't expected them to arrive so quickly.

From the moment he raised his banner until now, it had been less than three days, yet the people from the Small Knife Society were already at his door.

However, Lu Chen did not panic. He asked calmly, "Since you two came here specifically, what is your instruction?"

Han Qiu seemed not to have expected this young man to be so composed. A flash of surprise crossed his face, but he quickly returned to his smiling demeanor: "Nothing much, just asking around. But since young friend Lu is walking the path, you should know that any business in the Wen'an territory involving side-door trades or gambling houses falls under the jurisdiction of our Small Knife Society. You wouldn't be unaware of this rule, would you?"

"Of course I know. However..."

Han Qiu smiled and raised a hand, interrupting Lu Chen, "I understand what you mean. Are you trying to say that this lottery is novel and doesn't count as an old-fashioned gambling game like rolling dice or pushing tiles?"

He shook his head slightly, his tone turning heavy, "I've lived for more than half a lifetime, and I still have that much discernment. No matter what new clothes it wears, at its core, it is gambling."

Lu Chen fell silent for a moment, then asked, "And what is Elder Han's intention?"

Han Qiu laughed: "Simple. Walking the jianghu is all about seeking wealth. Our Small Knife Society doesn't want to leave anyone without a path. How about this: you bring your stalls and your men and merge into our society. You will hand over seventy percent of the monthly turnover, and the remaining thirty percent will be yours to manage. This way, everyone makes a profit; wouldn't that be the best of both worlds?"

After listening, Lu Chen shook his head.

Han Qiu's smile began to fade, and a coldness emerged in his narrow eyes.

"You disagree?"

Lu Chen did not answer, but his gaze shifted to the silent black-haired youth at the side, and he suddenly asked:

"What Seal are you?"

The youth seemed not to have expected such a sudden question. He was slightly taken aback, then sneered, "First Seal."

"Oh."

The youth snorted, his eyes filled with disdain, "To deal with trash like you, the First Seal is enough."

Lu Chen provoked him: "Then, what are you waiting for?"

The youth's eyes turned frigid, and the aura around his body suddenly condensed, but he did not strike immediately. Instead, he turned his head and cast a questioning look toward Han Qiu.

Han Qiu's smile vanished entirely as he looked at Lu Chen, slowly shaking his head as if pitying an unappreciative object.

"The impetuousness of youth; you never shed tears until you see the coffin."

Han Qiu sighed, his voice devoid of joy or anger, and gave a faint nod toward the young man.

"Very well. Ah Qi, teach this Gang Leader Lu a lesson. Let him understand the rules of my Small Knife Society."

"Yes!"

Ah Qi's gaze sharpened. The blue bricks beneath his feet cracked slightly as he shot toward Lu Chen like a black arrow, his fingers joined like a blade, stabbing straight for the heart. His internal energy was condensed like a needle, radiating a biting chill.

Lu Chen did not dodge; he sank his waist and twisted his fist, meeting the strike with pure, brute force.

Fist and fingers collided, a muffled thud exploding outward.

Lu Chen retreated three steps, his right arm trembling slightly, blood seeping from his knuckles.

Is this the power of the "Seal"? Condensing scattered energy into one point—the destructive force is terrifyingly concentrated!

Opposite him, Ah Qi swayed but steadied himself instantly. He looked at Lu Chen, all contempt gone from his eyes, replaced by shock and suspicion.

The recoil from that strike had left his fingertips numb. This brat clearly hadn't condensed a Seal, so how could his physical body be this formidable?

Some time ago, Lu Chen had drawn cards to break through his limits, reaching the External Force realm. With a total of two hundred and forty draws, his attributes had soared, and both his [Strength] and [Vitality] stats on his character page had broken through the 300-point mark.

The golden trait [Plum Bone] remained in constant effect, significantly boosting his overall defense.

The final two forms of the Plum Blossom Fist he had recently mastered not only completed his repertoire but also activated the hidden special effect [Resilience]: automatically reducing incoming damage by 8%.

The triple stacking of attributes, traits, and special effects had built him a physical foundation that far exceeded his current realm.