After Guo Ziming came to, he stared in horror at Fang Shuwen, who was tucking a handful of silver dollars into his pocket, and couldn't help backing away.
Was this still his lackey, Little Fang?
No, this wasn't Little Fang. This was Brother Fang!
He struck with such decisive precision, holding back until he acted.
Then, with a single move, he broke a man's arm—without a single unnecessary motion.
He was even more decisive than the guards his family had hired.
Fang Shuwen brushed the dust from his hands and tucked all the silver dollars into his pocket.
He picked up the packet of lime from the ground and weighed it in his hand. There was still plenty left.
Having seen what this stuff could do, he had to admit it was a real asset in a fight.
As for the two hooligans lying on the ground, unable to fight back, he had no intention of laying a hand on them again.
Young Master Guo was still standing nearby. He couldn't very well kill them right in front of him.
After all, Guo Ziming had an important background.
Killing them to silence them could easily lead to trouble.
With his current strength and status, he couldn't stand up to the Guo Family.
Besides, not killing them didn't mean there was no way to make them disappear.
With that thought, Fang Shuwen got to his feet and walked toward Guo Ziming.
"Holy crap!"
"Old Fang, Brother Fang, don't come any closer! I'm scared!"
Guo Ziming retreated until his back hit the wall. His chubby body trembled, his face full of fear.
He used to call him Little Fang. Now he was calling him Brother Fang.
"Stand still."
Fang Shuwen's voice wasn't loud, but it pinned Guo Ziming in place.
Guo Ziming's legs were trembling, but he forced himself to stay upright. His lips quivering, he managed a smile uglier than a cry.
"B-Brother Fang, just say the word. I'm listening."
Fang Shuwen stopped three paces away from him and gently tossed the packet of lime in his hand.
"Young Master Guo, how do you plan to settle things today?"
Guo Ziming froze. His eyes darted about as he cautiously replied:
"I understand, I understand. I'll make sure these two never show up in front of you again."
"Good. You understand."
Fang Shuwen tucked the packet of lime into his pocket and smiled at Guo Ziming.
That smile made Guo Ziming's skin crawl.
Guo Ziming nodded vigorously, his chubby face plastered with a fawning grin, while cold sweat had already soaked through his shirt.
Fang Shuwen said no more. He turned and headed for the mouth of the alley.
After taking two steps, he stopped.
Guo Ziming had just let out half a breath of relief. At the sight of Fang Shuwen stopping, he tensed up again.
Without turning his head, Fang Shuwen tossed out a final remark. "Oh, and once this is taken care of, I'll buy you tea sometime."
Guo Ziming froze for a moment, then hurriedly replied, "No need, no need."
His voice was loud and rushed, as if he feared Fang Shuwen would change his mind if he didn't answer quickly enough.
Fang Shuwen didn't respond. He walked at an unhurried pace, his figure gradually swallowed by the dusk at the alley's entrance.
Guo Ziming remained rooted to the spot, staring in that direction for a long time.
He didn't move until Fang Shuwen's footsteps had vanished completely amid the street's din.
Only then did he suddenly lean against the wall, as if all the strength had been drained from him, and slide down to the ground.
Before long, A-Da began to recover. Squinting through his swollen, reddened eyes, he crawled over and hurriedly tried to help Guo Ziming up. "Young Master, are you all right?"
Guo Ziming slapped his hand away and took a deep breath.
"Go."
He lifted his chin toward A-Da and A-Er, his voice low.
"Get Old Zhao and a few others over here. Take these two hooligans away. Be careful, and don't leave any loose ends."
A-Da froze. "Young Master, where should we take them?"
Guo Ziming lowered his gaze to the two hooligans still groaning on the ground, his eyes treating them like a pair of troublesome pieces of trash.
"Dump them at the police station. Say they attacked me."
A-Da's heart tightened. Judging by this, Guo Ziming wasn't planning to go after that fellow named Fang again.
Guo Ziming stood where he was and brushed the dust from his clothes.
Then he pulled a clean handkerchief from his sleeve and leisurely wiped the cold sweat fear had drawn on his forehead.
When he was done, he folded the handkerchief and slipped it back into his sleeve. He glanced at the two hooligans A-Da and A-Er were dragging away, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.
Fang Shuwen, oh, Fang Shuwen.
He remembered how, back on Chessboard Street, he used to order him around, calling him "Little Fang," making him pour tea, run errands, and save him a seat at the chess tables.
Back then, Fang Shuwen had always worn a fawning smile and never refused. He'd seemed both spineless and easy to bully.
But only today had Guo Ziming realized that the Little Fang who'd always been so meek around him could be even more ruthless in a fight than the guards his family had paid a fortune to hire.
Who would have thought he had such a ruthless side?
And the kid had some serious strength, too!
Guo Ziming shuddered.
West Street, National Martial Arts Hall.
From the outside, it was a Western-style building modeled after Prok architecture.
Its arched entrance, carved stone pillars, and rounded dome stood starkly at odds with the drab old Chinese houses in Xikou City.
Fang Shuwen climbed the steps and pushed open the heavy glass door set in a copper frame. A mixture of medicinal herbs, ink, and old wood washed over him.
The hall was livelier than he'd expected.
Along the left side stretched a long wooden counter, with several enamel signs hanging above it.
Red characters on white read "Registration," "Skill Assessment," "Supply Exchange," and "Bounty Notices," among other things.
Queues of varying lengths stood beneath each sign.
Several benches sat in the middle of the hall, occupied by people waiting.
Some spoke in hushed voices; others sat with their eyes closed, resting.
Two men in gray huddled together over a thin booklet, muttering words like "Bright Force," "Dark Force," and "Transformation Force."
Fang Shuwen had been here before.
He made his way through the bustling hall with practiced ease and headed straight for a window toward the back.
"Two inferior Ghost Jades."
"Forty silver dollars."
"Fine."
Fang Shuwen paid promptly. The attendant set a wooden box on the counter, filled with thirty-odd Ghost Jades in various colors, all roughly the same size.
"You're in luck. These just came in today, and we haven't had a chance to put them on the shelves yet. You can only take two, so pick them yourself."
Fang Shuwen looked down and held out his hand, sensing them carefully for a moment before selecting two Ghost Jades.
Even among inferior Ghost Jades, there were subtle differences.
He picked the two with the densest eerie energy.
Without his cheat, Fang Shuwen wouldn't have been able to tell them apart.
Fang Shuwen wrapped the two inferior Ghost Jades in cloth, tucked them close to his body, and nodded to the old man behind the window.
He turned, crossed the hall, and pushed his way out of the National Martial Arts Hall.
The night wind swept over him, bringing a chill. He took a deep breath, got his bearings, and headed home.
When he passed the roast chicken shop, he spent his last silver dollar on two roast chickens to take home as an extra treat for Old Fang.
Fang Shuwen walked quickly and soon reached the back gate of Zhao Estate.
He had just reached out to push it open when a loud, hearty woman's voice came from inside.
"Our Cuicui says he's sure to make it into the Elite Class this time!"
It was Mother Wang, all right.
She was bragging about her Cuicui again.
Fang Shuwen pushed the gate open and saw several people in the back courtyard.
Mother Wang stood in the middle of the courtyard, next to a simple, honest-looking man—her husband.
Her husband, Wang Cheng, didn't work at Zhao Estate. He farmed out in the countryside.
He'd probably come over today because of the exam.
On the other side stood the burly Hu Da and two other laborers who worked at Zhao Estate.
Old Fang wasn't there. Fang Shuwen had no idea where he'd gone.
Fang Shuwen didn't think much of it.
Just then, Mother Wang spoke again.
"As for Little Fang, he's probably out of luck this time. My Cuicui said he failed the physical test and left early. He's still not back this late, so he's probably too ashamed to show his face."
"Shh! Don't let Old Fang hear you."