Enemies on a Narrow Road

Bang!

The door deep within the second floor of Wenxuan Pavilion opened and then shut.

Hearing the sound, Zheng Yuanpei, whose face had been twisted like a chrysanthemum, suddenly looked as if he had encountered a savior.

He stood up nimbly and rushed in front of the young girl.

"Oh, Shulan, my dear granddaughter, come quickly, come quickly!"

"Help me look at how this game should be played again; those moves you taught me earlier didn't work."

Zheng Shulan wore a look of helplessness. Seeing her grandfather like this, the shame and irritation she felt from encountering Fang Shuwen instantly dissipated.

Turning to something that crossed her mind, she couldn't help but question him:

"Grandfather, you didn't go and gamble with someone again, did you?"

"Did that person come here today?"

"You didn't lose the Ghost Jade you promised to give me, did you!"

Ever since that little hooligan pinched her bottom at the temple fair, Zheng Shulan had decided to practice martial arts.

She didn't care how much she would achieve in the future, as long as she could defend herself and not be bullied.

When she voiced this decision, her grandfather was extremely supportive.

He declared that he would personally take action to lay the foundation for her martial arts training.

How to lay the foundation? Naturally, by using the hidden energy of a Great Martial Master combined with the energy within the Ghost Jade to stimulate and transform her body.

After a few days of basic training, by yesterday, Zheng Shulan's physical state had been basically adjusted.

She was just waiting for her grandfather to make his move.

But unexpectedly, when her grandfather returned from going out that night, he told her very sheepishly that because he had gambled on chess, he had lost the Ghost Jade intended for her foundation.

The Zheng family was wealthy and influential, so a mere piece of Ghost Jade was nothing.

Zheng Shulan didn't mind; it was only a one-day delay, after all.

Who told her that her grandfather was a terrible chess player who happened to love the game?

After that matter was put aside, her grandfather had her help him analyze the chess games.

By this morning, she had spent the whole morning analyzing them.

She had demonstrated many ways to respond for her grandfather.

She felt confident that even if the person who beat her grandfather yesterday came back, they would definitely not get the upper hand.

But judging by what her grandfather just said, he had lost again!

"This, that, Grandfather promises that tomorrow, tomorrow I will find my dear granddaughter an even better quality one! I guarantee I will let my dear granddaughter lay a martial arts foundation comparable to a genius!"

Zheng Yuanpei promised awkwardly.

But, clearly, his granddaughter Zheng Shulan did not believe him.

"Forget it, Grandfather. Actually, I've already asked Dad to buy me one."

"So, shall we study the chess game first?" Zheng Yuanpei said.

An hour later, inside the room.

"How could it be played like this!"

Zheng Shulan looked incredulous. She had thought the game was completely dismantled.

But unexpectedly, once she restored the previous board, the opponent's moves were completely unexpected, interlocking perfectly, and easily breaking through the various responses she had devised earlier.

After the shock, Zheng Shulan couldn't help but ask:

"Which master is this person?"

"What master? Just a youngster, about the same age as you. If you had come back a little earlier, you might have run into that cunning brat!"

Zheng Yuanpei curled his lips.

If it were truly a master of chess, that would be one thing, but it was just a young man who looked like he was still a student.

If he were his age and couldn't beat his own granddaughter, that would be fine; that would be the student surpassing the master, and others would only praise his granddaughter.

But losing to a young brat was another matter entirely.

That was quite embarrassing.

"About my age? Just left, not long ago?"

Zheng Shulan couldn't help but mutter to herself, a detestable face appearing in her mind.

Could it be that little hooligan?

No, definitely not.

That person's style of play was grand and upright; it could never be that kind of base villain!

To have such chess skills while being about her age.

I wonder who it is; I really want to meet them!

After leaving Wenxuan Pavilion, Fang Shuwen had no idea he was already being thought of by someone.

The day was still early, and he wasn't in a rush to return.

He touched the Ghost Jade in his satchel, then felt the two remaining silver dollars in his pocket.

He had won five yesterday, given two to Old Fang, and kept three for himself.

With this little money, he couldn't even touch the threshold of buying Ghost Jade at the National Martial Arts Hall.

He had to keep making money.

He walked along East Street for a while, found a shady spot at an intersection three streets away from Wenxuan Pavilion, spread his cloth satchel on the ground, laid out the chessboard, and arranged the pieces.

Then, he set up his sign.

He sat on a low stool, not shouting, just waiting quietly.

Good wine doesn't fear a deep alley; good chess doesn't fear a lack of players.

Sure enough, In less than the time it takes to burn an incense stick, a middle-aged man in a silk shirt wandered over.

Judging by his attire, he looked like the proprietor of a small shop, with a slightly protruding belly and a folding fan in his hand.

"Little brother, care for a game? Win a dollar, lose fifty cents?"

"That is correct."

"Good, then let's have a round."

The middle-aged man's chess skills weren't weak, but they were limited to just that.

Fang Shuwen gave him a horse, and in the end, intentionally won by a mere half-piece.

The middle-aged man wasn't annoyed; he readily tossed down a silver dollar and asked for another game.

A moment later, in the midst of his "struggle," the middle-aged man was defeated again by a single piece.

"Again!"

An hour later, the middle-aged man wiped the sweat from his forehead!

His expression was somewhat ugly; he hadn't won a single game today.

He had lost three silver dollars.

By now, how could he not realize?

The youth before him had chess skills far superior to his own.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have let him lose by just one piece every single time.

"Little brother, you have great skill. This old brother is tired today, I'll be off!"

Finding a random excuse, the middle-aged man stood up and left.

Fang Shuwen put away the silver dollars and waited a while longer, but no one else came.

At this time, The sky gradually darkened, and the shops along the street began to light their lamps one after another.

Fang Shuwen packed up his chessboard and headed toward West Street.

There was a roast chicken shop on West Street, a time-honored brand, and the head chef had excellent skills.

Old Fang had once brought the original owner there to eat.

The taste was still fresh in his memory.

He spent one silver dollar to buy two roast chickens, wrapped them in oil paper, stuffed them into his satchel, and prepared to take them back for Old Fang.

Just as he was about to head back, he saw the tavern next door.

After a moment's thought, he turned and went inside.

Old Fang had been out of wine for months, and he had never been willing to buy any.

Fang Shuwen entered the tavern. The proprietor was busy clicking away at an abacus, only glancing up at him once.

Seeing a student in a grey uniform, he lowered his head again and quoted a price in a flat, indifferent tone.

Fang Shuwen didn't mind; he paid the money, grabbed the wine jug, and was about to leave.

Suddenly, he heard someone at a corner table mention "Fang Shuwen."

He paused, moved half a step to the side without changing his expression, and turned his back to the table, pretending to study the drink price list posted on the wall.

His ears, however, pricked up.

"Heh, I took ten yuan from you last time and took the opportunity to punch that poor student. Even if he didn't die, he wouldn't be getting out of bed for at least ten days or half a month."

"What is it, you want me to go deal with him again today?"

"You want me to kill someone? This bit of money isn't enough!"

A voice like a cracked reed spoke, its tone carrying a hint of disdain.

He knew exactly how much force was in his punch.

Naturally, he was very clear that while it wouldn't kill a man, injuries were unavoidable.

Without a skilled physician to treat him, the boy would inevitably be bedridden for ten days or a fortnight.

"Hmph, Old Chen, how exactly did you hit him?"

"That brat showed up at Wenxuan Pavilion today, looking perfectly fine."

Another voice chimed in, thick and coarse.

"Impossible. I know how I hit him; there's no way he could have recovered that quickly!"

"Why would I lie to you? If you don't believe me, go check his house tomorrow."

"Fine. If it's really as you say, don't worry—I guarantee I'll break one of his legs and make sure he can't get out of bed for three to five months," the previous cracked voice said.

"Breaking a leg isn't enough. This time, finish him off. Go wait at the usual spot, and I'll come find you once I've fetched the money."

The second man spoke again.

At this moment, Fang Shuwen tilted his head slightly, using the dim light of the tavern's kerosene lamp to steal a glance from the side.

What a coincidence.

They were truly acquaintances.

One of them was the very man who had punched the original owner at the temple fair, the one who had "acted out of righteousness."

The other man had his back turned, making it impossible to see his face.

But judging by the voice, it seemed to be Liu Mang, one of Guo Ziming's lackeys.

Yet, listening to the meaning behind their words now, the man hitting the original owner at the temple fair had been paid by Liu Mang.

So, The original owner being beaten wasn't an accident, but a premeditated ambush!

What on earth was Liu Mang trying to do?

Why go to such lengths to have the original owner beaten?

And now, he even wanted to kill him!

Fang Shuwen's mind raced.

In the past, he and Liu Mang had both been lackeys for Guo Ziming.

The two of them had often tripped each other up while competing for favor.

But, at the end of the day, those were all harmless, trivial matters.

It shouldn't have been enough to make the stingy Liu Mang willing to spend ten silver dollars to hire someone to deal with him.

Unless...