Chapter 57: The Black Market

The moon hung over the eastern branch.

Large red lanterns hung high above the upturned eaves; the scent of rare delicacies drifted from within the windows.

“Three esteemed guests, Zhao invites you to one cup.”

At this moment, Zhao Wei was utterly elated.

He tossed back the entire cup of wine in one gulp.

Having secured a spot in the Huaqing Sect’s entrance trial, he naturally needed to maintain good relations with the three from Huaqing.

If not for the woman among them, he’d have preferred to host the banquet at the brothel district.

There has long been a saying among the martial world.

No matter how many deeds you do together, nothing bonds you like enduring battle side by side.

What a pity!

Han Qin chuckled, the most experienced in the martial world among the three, and raised his cup: “Congratulations, Deputy Commander Zhao. Perhaps next year we’ll meet within the Sect.”

Zhao Wei’s spirits lifted further: “I accept your auspicious words.”

Cups clinked back and forth several times.

The atmosphere gradually warmed.

He was a man of the martial world, an expert drinker, and unmatched in the art of persuasion in Qinghe.

Zhu Yue had also drunk his share; as a Zhu family scion, he could not avoid dealings with the Heaven’s Alliance, and befriending Zhao Wei served him well.

Of course, he did not sink so low as to humiliate himself and disgrace Huaqing Sect.

Zhao Wei understood these Huaqing disciples looked down on them as common peasants.

The words “younger brother” formed on his lips but he swallowed them back.

He had already inquired about this Zhu family prodigy; since they were both from Qinghe, he saw it as the best opening to build rapport:

“Young Master Zhu, I have some acquaintance with your father. I shall pay a visit another day.”

Zhu Yue brightened: “Then I shall await your arrival, Deputy Commander Zhao.”

At that moment, Han Qin caught Jiang Yan’s faint impatience and swiftly steered the conversation: “Deputy Commander Zhao, since we’re family now, we hope you’ll lend your efforts to the Ghost Ming Cult matter.”

Zhao Wei slapped his chest: “Leave this to me.”

Han Qin and Zhu Yue, seeing Zhao Wei was not feigning, finally relaxed.

Yet they weren’t afraid he’d slack off.

After all, the slots were in their hands—they could always replace him with someone more obedient.

Until late into the night.

The drinking session finally broke up.

Zhao Wei had downed eighteen large bowls and was thoroughly drunk, being half-carried out of the tavern; before leaving, he still made sure to escort the three from Huaqing.

A young subordinate watched Zhao Wei, nearly unconscious, and whispered: “It seems the commander is truly delighted today—I’ve never seen him this drunk.”

“Who says I’m drunk?”

The young subordinate turned his head.

There stood Zhao Wei, perfectly upright, not a trace of intoxication on his face.

Zhao Wei watched the retreating backs of the three from Huaqing, his eyes narrowing slightly:

“I’ll trust you this once. But if you dare play tricks, don’t think I’m easy to provoke.”

Tianyi Hall.

“You want to come with me to the black market?”

Li Rui had just prepared to leave that morning for his first visit to the black market.

He opened the door to find Liang He crouched on the threshold, tiptoeing; when he asked, the boy confessed he wanted to go too.

Liang He’s gaze was resolute:

“A chancellor rises from the ranks of the provinces; a mighty general emerges from the ranks of soldiers.”

“I want to train myself in the field. Master, rest assured—I’ll patrol the black market by day and guard the hall by night. I won’t neglect any duties.”

Innate Ox-Horse Sacred Body?

Li Rui couldn’t help recalling his own miserable life: working by day, delivering food by night.

“Do as you please. But I warn you—I won’t pay double wages.”

“No pay needed, no pay needed.”

Liang He waved his hands cheerfully and trotted after Li Rui.

Li Rui had been worrying about lacking a trustworthy confidant for the black market.

Liang He had come to him—why not take him?

Compared to the old hands of the black market, Liang He was far more trustworthy.

How could one accomplish anything without a few loyal subordinates?

Li Rui knew Qinghe’s black market well.

More than half of Dongcheng’s slums fell within the black market’s domain; it had long been run by the Blood Tiger Gang, but they’d relinquished this lucrative patch after hearing the Heaven’s Alliance’s leader had broken through.

Of course, the Heaven’s Alliance had paid a heavy price for it.

Li Rui strolled with Liang He down the street; passersby, seeing their Heaven’s Alliance uniforms, quickly shrank away in fear.

Soon, they reached the entrance to the black market.

And the towering, menacing black-clad men standing guard.

Li Rui flashed his waist token engraved with the number “11.” Instantly, the black-clad men grew respectful; their leader bowed with obsequiousness: “It’s Master Li! Sun Commander has been waiting for you.”

Master Li

Li Rui’s expression flickered—he remembered last time he’d come, meekly paying entry fees; now he was “Master.”

“Lead the way.”

He wouldn’t waste words telling them not to call him “Master Li.”

In the black market, everyone was a hard man; excessive friendliness only made you seem easy to manipulate—correcting that later would take ten times the effort.

Candy won’t make someone obey; the whip will.

Li Rui understood these principles well.

The black market had a front market and a back market.

Li Rui had only ever visited the front market, where vendors sold common goods—rice, flour, poultry—mostly individual stalls.

The back market was different: nearly all shops, even multi-story buildings.

To enter the back market, you paid another entry fee—high, at a full string of copper coins.

Inside the back market, the streets were noticeably emptier.

After walking a while, Li Rui suddenly heard a woman’s sobs from an alley with a pearwood entrance.

The sobs came from deep within the alley, which seemed to lead to a mansion at the black market’s deepest core.

The black-clad men noticed Li Rui glancing toward the alley.

They explained: “Master Li, the black market has rules: live goods and dead goods must be separated. This is where several houses store live goods.”

Live goods

Li Rui turned his gaze away, his steps unbroken.

“Live goods” was martial slang—for people. More precisely, people treated as merchandise.

Wealthy households in the city acquired servants in two ways: one, like I once did, voluntarily signing a bond of servitude; the other, buying live goods.

Live goods were usually pretty village girls or fair-skinned boys.

To satisfy the peculiar tastes of those masters.

Such sordid matters existed in every age, merely hidden from ordinary eyes.

Li Rui had no savior’s heart—he lacked the power to save them anyway.

Black market overseer.

Sounds noble, but in truth, just a high-ranking servant for the Heaven’s Alliance.

These merchants had long reached an unspoken understanding with the Heaven’s Alliance; anyone who broke it would face swift retribution.

“Blame the times.”

Fifteen minutes later.

He arrived at the deepest, tallest building in the black market—a five-story structure, the highest in the entire market.

As he reached the doorway,

A fat, round-faced man, belly bulging like a watermelon, hurried out:

“Master Li! I’ve been waiting for you so long!”

(End of Chapter)