Chapter 410

Du Fuzi was beaten over the head with a sack.

Fortunately, the attackers dared not strike to kill, and he survived.

The incident occurred on the evening of the banquet day.

Chen Guanlou received the news and rushed to Du Fuzi's home at once.

The physician was applying medicine to Du Fuzi, who groaned and begged him to be gentle.

"Can't be gentle—you'll have to bear it," said the physician, a familiar face, speaking without ceremony.

Chen Guanlou hurried forward. "How serious is the injury? Is he in danger?"

The physician told him it was only superficial trauma, no bones broken; he might experience dizziness or nausea later, but there was no need to worry—he'd recover in a few days' rest.

This is a concussion!

Chen Guanlou's anger spiked. "Did you see who did this?"

Du Fuzi shook his head. "I drank and came home, took a shortcut through an alley, and suddenly a sack was thrown over my head. Then a few blows landed on me. After that, they ran off."

"More than one person?"

Du Fuzi nodded. "At least two."

"How bad are your injuries?"

Du Fuzi rolled up his sleeve. "Not too bad—all superficial."

Chen Guanlou clenched his lips, his face grim.

Du Fuzi turned to comfort him. "I'm fine. A few days' rest will fix it. Guanlou, you mustn't do anything reckless. Besides, we don't even know who did it—you can't just blame someone without proof."

"I can guess who did it. Fuzi, rest well. I'll make sure you get justice."

"What are you going to do? I already said I'm fine!" Du Fuzi feared Chen Guanlou would act rashly. They had known each other for years; he didn't know exactly how powerful Chen Guanlou was, but he had long suspected Chen Guanlou kept many secrets. Those secrets were precisely why, over the years, their antique trade had never been exposed.

The profits from antique trading were enormous, and with Chen Guanlou's supply channels, they had drawn envy from countless people. For all these years, they had remained safe—not only because of the Hou Fu's reputation, but also because Chen Guanlou had taken many precautions, using necessary means to deter those who might have moved against them.

Du Fuzi never asked. He kept his suspicions buried deep inside.

Now that he'd been ambushed, he thought it over and concluded it must be tied to the antique trade. And given it happened today, it was obvious—the perpetrators were from the Chen clan.

Du Fuzi didn't want Chen Guanlou to turn against his own kin over him. Chen Guanlou's reputation in the clan was already poor; many accused him of hoarding profits and being eccentric. If he now clashed with his own family over this, his position within the clan would become even more precarious.

In this age, no one could survive independently of their lineage.

This was a world of survival of the fittest: the lineage exploited its members, but it also protected them from outside oppression.

If Chen Guanlou severed ties with the clan, wolves and tigers from outside would swarm him. Even if he truly possessed great power, two fists couldn't fight a hundred hands—individual strength was always limited. He might even lose his post at Tianlaomiao; all his trade, all his wealth, would vanish.

Their years of smooth sailing were, fairly speaking, partly due to the Hou Fu's influence and partly to the Chen clan's backing.

Chen Guanlou could control the Tianlaomiao's antique and calligraphy trade only because he was a Chen—the Chen of Hou Fu.

If he weren't a Chen, but a Zhang, a Wang, a Ma—would any corrupt official even give him a second glance?

So Du Fuzi urged Chen Guanlou: "My injuries aren't serious. A few days' rest will heal me. What matters is harmony brings wealth."

Chen Guanlou smirked. "Fuzi, you were beaten with a sack and you still talk about harmony bringing wealth? You've never provoked anyone."

"I understand what you mean. But right now…" Du Fuzi hesitated. "Your reputation matters more. I've actually been thinking of advising you—if things get too bad, bring someone else in. If Hou Fu shows interest, partner with them. But then our share would shrink. Less profit, but at least you'd have safety."

"I have no intention of bringing anyone else in. Fuzi, don't worry—I act with restraint. All these years, don't you trust me? When have I ever acted recklessly?"

He always acted with planning.

Du Fuzi sighed heavily. "Your biggest flaw is stubbornness—you never listen. Your mind is set stronger than anyone's. Fine, fine. Just promise me one thing: don't do anything reckless. Don't seek revenge for me. My injuries are nothing. This is a perfect chance to rest."

"When you have time, spend more with the brothers in the clan you get along with. Build ties—then when trouble comes, they'll speak up for you. Don't think avoiding trouble means trouble won't find you."

"The lineage is sometimes a place of reason, sometimes just a mob using numbers to bully. You're alone and weak—don't be stubborn. When you need to yield, yield. Take small losses to preserve your dignity. Think long-term—let them have three steps. What's the harm?"

Chen Guanlou laughed bitterly. "Fuzi, what do you think I am? Do you really believe I'm the type to rush in blindly and strike?"

Du Fuzi snorted. "You deny it? Today at the Hou Fu banquet, you kicked Chen Guanqing across the room the moment he opened his mouth—everyone saw it. At dinner, you were the talk of the table. Everyone said you've been in Tianlaomiao too long—you've got a violent temper, always hitting people. You can't bring that Tianlaomiao attitude into the clan."

"I kicked Chen Guanqing because his face was disgusting, repulsive. Afterward, so many came to me about the antique trade—did I ever lose my temper or strike anyone? You're all biased."

"The bias is already there. In everyone's eyes, you're a hot-tempered man who strikes at the slightest provocation. What are you going to do? If you act recklessly now, your reputation will only worsen. Every time something happens in the clan, you'll be the one to lose. You need to change this perception."

"I'm quite kind."

"You're kind only to people you know," Du Fuzi pointed out the core issue. This especially angered the clan.

Chen Guanlou preferred to partner with outsiders, letting them profit, rather than include his own kin. To many, this was betrayal—ungrateful, deserving punishment.

Influenced by his past life, Chen Guanlou had no concept of lineage, making him an outsider in the Chen clan. Everyone else spoke constantly of lineage and kept their brothers close.

Chen Guanlou rarely mentioned lineage or brothers. He only took along those he liked. If someone displeased him—even a blood brother—he ignored them. Fortunately, he had no blood brothers, so this trait remained untested.

Emboldened by wine, the clan members vented their grievances at the banquet, and Chen Guanlou's response was icy—no shame, no embarrassment at being accused.

It was too much.

Does he even bear the Chen surname? Does he care about his family at all?