The stuff brought in enormous profits, but it was also absolutely taboo. The moment you got mixed up in it, you could lose everything—your home and your family!
The authorities cracked down on it harshly in public, so the White Horse Gang's audacity in dealing in it was beyond imagination.
If they really burned the place down tonight, they wouldn't just be burning the White Horse Gang's property—they'd be cutting off one of its important sources of income.
They might even draw the authorities' attention.
By then, the enraged White Horse Gang would be like a pack of rabid dogs, hunting down the culprits at any cost.
No matter how carefully they covered their tracks, the gang's all-out investigation could very well expose the few of them who'd carried out the job.
This was no longer as simple as teaching a small-time boss a lesson. They were stirring up a hornet's nest.
"Can't burn it!"
The thought flashed through Lin Qing's mind.
Young Master Liu's twenty taels of silver were meant to buy Chen Bao a lesson, not to buy their lives so they could go up against the White Horse Gang's foundations!
He turned at once, rushed out of the warehouse, and hurried toward the areas assigned to Zhang Shun and the other two men.
Fortunately, Zhang Shun seemed to have noticed that the guards around these warehouses were different from those at ordinary storehouses—more tightly arranged and better concealed.
He, too, had been cautious, and hadn't set anything alight yet.
The other two were still making preparations as well.
Lin Qing found Zhang Shun, grabbed him, and leaned close to his ear, speaking in a hurried whisper. "Brother Shun, we can't burn these. They're storing Fortune Paste inside."
"What?"
Even Zhang Shun, a man who'd weathered his share of storms, saw his pupils contract and sucked in a sharp breath at the words.
He immediately understood how serious this was.
Soon, the other two men were called over as well.
At the words "Fortune Paste," the two martial hall disciples turned deathly pale and cursed under their breath.
"Damn it! That bastard Liu's trying to get us killed!"
"No wonder he was so generous. He's sending us to slap a tiger's behind!"
Zhang Shun's face darkened, and his eyes flickered with uncertainty.
He pondered for a moment, then looked over the warehouses. At last, his gaze settled on the outermost one, a little shed that seemed to be piled with discarded canvas.
"We can't touch that filthy cargo."
"But we can't leave our employer without an explanation, either. If we break the rules, we won't be able to make a living in this line of work."
Zhang Shun pointed at the little shed. "Burn that one. There's nothing valuable inside, but it'll make enough of a mess to cause Chen Bao some trouble. That'll count as finishing the job!"
No one objected. They quickly set the little shed on fire.
The dry wood and canvas caught at once, and the flames soon leapt high, standing out against the night.
"Let's go!"
The four of them didn't linger. Following their planned route, they retreated as swiftly as ghosts and vanished into the shadows of the alleys.
Behind them, the docks erupted with noisy voices, shouts to put out the fire, and the White Horse Gang members' furious curses.
The next day, the atmosphere throughout the Outer City grew noticeably tense.
The White Horse Gang had practically poured out in full force. Like a pack of rabid dogs, they went door to door, questioning and searching for clues about whoever had set the fire the previous night.
Areas near the docks, especially Yongning Street, were under particular scrutiny.
Lord Leopard led a group of men into Benevolent World Hall, his face so dark it seemed water might drip from it.
"Lin Qing, you've heard about what happened at the docks last night, haven't you?"
Chen Bao stared hard at Lin Qing, trying to find a clue in his expression.
Lin Qing was sorting medicinal herbs behind the counter. At the question, he looked up with a bewildered expression. "Lord Leopard, what happened at the docks?"
"I got back late from practicing at the martial hall last night and went straight to bed. I haven't heard anything."
"Hmph. Someone's got a lot of nerve, daring to dig dirt over Tai Sui's head!"
Chen Bao gave a cold laugh and stepped closer, his presence oppressive.
"We've looked into it. The arsonists weren't amateurs. The way they took down a few of our men was clean and efficient. They seemed like trained fighters, skilled in fist and foot techniques."
"One of my men even saw a black-clad figure disappear near your home last night."
"Lin Qing, you're a member of Iron Wire Fist now. Tell me, where exactly were you last night?"
His words were an unmistakable mix of probing and intimidation.
Lin Qing's heart tightened, but his expression remained calm.
"Lord Leopard, that's not a fair thing to say. There are at least eight or nine hundred people in Qingping County who know how to fight, and Iron Wire Fist isn't the only martial hall around."
"I, Lin Qing, have been minding my family's old shop. Business has only just started to pick up. I've got my hands full trying to live in peace—why would I risk my neck?"
"Besides, if I really had the skill to slip into the docks and set a fire without anyone noticing, would I still be stuck running this little shop in the Outer City and paying you protection money every month?"
His explanation was perfectly reasonable, and his tone was neither servile nor defiant.
Chen Bao stared hard at him for a long while but found no flaw.
And with the Iron Wire Fist Martial Hall's reputation in mind, he ultimately didn't dare to pressure Lin Qing without evidence.
"Hmph. You'd better have nothing to do with it!"
Chen Bao snorted coldly and warned him, "If I find out who had the gall to do this, I'll make him wish he were dead!"
Only after Chen Bao and the others disappeared around the street corner did Lin Qing slowly let out a breath. His back was slick with cold sweat.
Although they'd ultimately avoided the biggest danger this time, the whole affair had still been fraught with peril.
It seemed he'd have to be even more cautious in the future about making quick money through shady dealings.
Unless it was absolutely necessary, it was better to stay away.
When he arrived at the martial hall and saw Zhang Shun safe and sound, instructing the new disciples in their forms, Lin Qing finally let go of the breath he'd been holding.
Seeing him, Zhang Shun came over during a lull, a knowing smile on his face. He lowered his voice. "It's fine now. The search is intense, but it won't lead back to us."
"There are rules in this line of work. No one knows anyone else's background; only I, the one who put you in touch, know. Don't worry, your senior brother won't sell you out."
After speaking, Zhang Shun slipped a little pouch into Lin Qing's hand.
Lin Qing accepted it without showing anything, but he was even more curious about Zhang Shun's background.
The man wasn't just experienced in a fight and meticulous in his thinking; he also had excellent sources of information and connections everywhere.
He was definitely more than an ordinary martial hall disciple.
"Brother Shun, if an opportunity like this comes up again, we'll have to think it through more carefully," Lin Qing said tactfully.
Zhang Shun chuckled. "I know. We nearly got played this time. But don't worry. If there's ever a safe way to make quick money, your senior brother won't forget you."
Lin Qing hesitated, then changed the subject. "Brother Shun, you hear a lot of things. Do you know where the people drafted by the court last time—my father's group, for instance—were sent to fight?"
At that, Zhang Shun's smile faded. He glanced around, then lowered his voice. "I've heard people mention it. Most of those drafted last time were laborers and garrison troops drawn from various places. They were mainly sent to the front lines in You Province."
"I hear the fighting there is fierce, and the barbarians are vicious. Things aren't looking good."
You Province. The Northern Border barbarians...
Lin Qing's heart sank.
He'd already expected as much, but hearing it confirmed only made him worry more about his father's safety.
In these times, life was cheap on the frontier battlefields—people were treated like blades of grass.
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