Chapter 69: Farewell

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Qian Wende, seeing this, understood that Zhuang Jin was well aware of the situation and refrained from saying more. He busied himself, attending to Zhuang Jin’s bedding, all the while casually asking how much these items had cost.

Zhuang Jin quoted the price Jiang Wei had paid.

Upon hearing this, Qian Wende immediately stopped, sneering, “I knew there was something fishy! That Jiang Wei dared to skim off your money, Brother Zhuang—he’s got some nerve!”

“Hm?” Zhuang Jin looked up. He knew roughly what these things should cost, and if Jiang Wei’s reimbursement didn’t match the market price, he certainly wouldn’t have let it pass; he was not so easily deceived.

“Brother Zhuang, you don’t know. Normally, yes, that’s the price, but when we martial artists buy things on the street we control, who actually pays full price? To pay at all is already generous; buying at cost is the norm, and if they don’t sell at a loss, they’re not showing proper respect.”

“These items—I know exactly what’s going on,” Qian Wende affirmed. “Jiang Wei’s little errand easily pocketed at least half your money!”

“This… is interesting,” Zhuang Jin listened, his face betraying no emotion, his index finger tapping crisply on the table.

Qian Wende knew Zhuang Jin was contemplating and dared not interrupt, keeping silent.

After a moment’s thought, Zhuang Jin suddenly asked, “Dezi, let’s suppose for a moment that we don’t know each other, there’s no connection between us. If I asked you to buy something for me, would you pocket some of my money?”

He paused, then added, “Speak honestly.”

Qian Wende understood what Zhuang Jin meant, thought for a moment, and replied awkwardly, “If I didn’t know you, Brother Zhuang, whether I’d skim money depends on your status. If you were just a colleague… heh! But if you were my squad leader, of course I wouldn’t dare!”

Even without their relationship, he wouldn’t dare cheat his superior; after spending enough time in the neighborhood, one learns the unspoken rules—unless he wanted to ruin his prospects.

“That’s why I say it’s interesting,” Zhuang Jin nodded slightly. Given Qian Wende’s penchant for petty profit, even he wouldn’t cheat his own squad leader. So why would Jiang Wei, blinded by greed, do such a thing? Wasn’t he afraid Zhuang Jin would eventually figure it out and retaliate?

The risks and rewards were wildly disproportionate.

‘So, perhaps this man needs money for some particular reason? And… he’s certain I won’t have a chance to settle accounts?’

Zhuang Jin recalled how his squad’s previous leader had been ambushed last month, and suspicion stirred in his heart. He leaned over and whispered a few words to Qian Wende.

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Those who rule by mind govern others; those who labor are governed. With just a word, Zhuang Jin could have the matter investigated and merely await the results—such is the pleasure of those in power.

“Brother Zhuang, rest assured, leave it to me!” Qian Wende patted his chest in assurance, clearly pleased. He understood well: the more Zhuang Jin entrusted to him, the greater the regard, and when Zhuang Jin soared, he’d benefit as well.

“Mm.”

Zhuang Jin waved him off, allowing Qian Wende to leave, and then focused on his cultivation.

He knew perfectly well that his own strength was the foundation of everything. Once he broke through the Fourth Meridian, whatever schemes brewed within the squad would be crushed by absolute power.

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Time passed swiftly. Zhuang Jin devoted himself to cultivation in his squad leader’s quarters, and before he knew it, noon had arrived. At that moment, his four subordinates—Jiang Wei, Du Yunqi, Zhou Chao, and Pan Zimo—returned from patrol.

Zhuang Jin saw Jiang Wei and showed no sign, no reaction, as if he knew nothing of the money matter. He simply asked about their morning patrol. Hearing that all was quiet, he said, “It’s about time. Today at noon, Commander Duan is hosting a banquet at Jinhua Pavilion. Let’s head over.”

“Jinhua Pavilion? Squad Leader Zhuang, Commander Duan really values you, to choose such a place for your welcoming banquet.” Jiang Wei bowed low, smiling in flattery. “You may not know, Squad Leader, but there are no good restaurants here on Furong Street; Jinhua Pavilion is actually on the neighboring Fuchang Street…”

Through his explanation, the group learned: Fuchang Street was neither under the Shen family’s nor the Medicine King Gang’s control, but belonged to a small faction from the north of the city—the Brotherhood—which now wavered between the Shen family and the Medicine King Gang.

In fact, compared to the newly risen Medicine King Gang, the Shen family was a long-established power, reigning over the city for a hundred years, deeply rooted and formidable. Originally, the Brotherhood had decided to align with the Shen family, but last month, after the Medicine King Gang’s sudden attack, Furong Street lost an entire squad—including its leader—frightening the Brotherhood into reconsideration.

“How could I have such honor? It’s merely a welcoming banquet for all the newcomers today.”

Zhuang Jin glanced at Jiang Wei, then led his subordinates to join Ke Jingxing and Song Jie’s squads, heading together to Jinhua Pavilion.

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Fuchang Street, Jinhua Pavilion.

As Zhuang Jin and the others entered, they heard a vibrant voice from the second floor—clearly a martial artist speaking.

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“Brother Zhou Yuan, I heard you have a beggar as a brother?”

“Brother Zhang, where did you hear such rumors?”

Zhou Yuan said this, beckoning Gao Shi over and patting him on the face with the back of his hand. “It’s nothing but gossip. Supposedly, this is the person in question. Come, Gao Shi, tell them yourself—are you my brother?”

“No, no, how could I dare be your brother, Master Zhou?” Gao Shi replied with a humble, ingratiating smile.

The martial artist surnamed Zhang, hearing this, showed a trace of disdain in his eyes. He had heard that back when Zhou Yuan was at the First Meridian, he and Gao Shi, who came from beggar origins, were sworn brothers. Zhou Yuan had borrowed the silver Gao Shi earned from slaying foes while wounded. After Zhou Yuan broke through to the Second Meridian, he turned cold, refusing to acknowledge Gao Shi as a brother or friend, and even denied the borrowed money.

He knew all this, but would not mention it, instead finding amusement like the others in the gang, deliberately questioning, “Truly not?”

Zhou Yuan seemed eager to prove himself, to shed the reputation of having a beggar brother, and laughed heartily, “Have you seen anyone treat a brother like this?”

With that, he suddenly kicked Gao Shi, sending him tumbling down the stairs.

Zhuang Jin entered, immediately recognizing Gao Shi. He helped the battered, dusty Gao Shi to his feet and saw a silver mark on his chest—a symbol adopted by the Medicine King Gang to distinguish martial artists’ ranks, indicating a First Meridian martial artist.

Yet if Gao Shi had joined the Medicine King Gang as a First Meridian martial artist and official member, why was he still bullied like this?

Gao Shi also recognized Zhuang Jin, feeling a strange familiarity. The words “Little Mute” almost slipped out but were swallowed. After Zhuang Jin nodded slightly in confirmation, Gao Shi’s heart surged with excitement.

Then came the shame—being so humiliated before his former best friend. But he had grown hardened by experience; he quickly suppressed the feeling, silently mouthing “hit me.” Seeing Zhuang Jin unmoved, he mouthed again, “hit!”

Zhuang Jin understood Gao Shi’s meaning: now, with one in the Shen family and the other in the Medicine King Gang, their positions differed, and they could not show closeness. With a surge of inner energy, Zhuang Jin struck, sending Gao Shi flying.

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