Chapter 49: [The Money Bag, Fang Fang Zong]

The proprietress bit her lip, took a deep breath, and said carefully, "We know hitting someone was wrong. Coming here, we brought sincerity—we want to apologize to Mr. Luo in person. I…"

"Miss, please don't make this hard for me." The clerk spread his hands. "Uncle Qing is the boss here. Whatever he says goes—how would I have the standing to overturn it? If I really took you in, I don't know if your matter would work out, but I know for sure I'd get a good scolding."

The proprietress felt helpless inside. She glanced at the clerk and understood he was telling the truth.

Chen Yan patted the clerk lightly and said in a low voice, "Brother, we won't make things hard for you. But even if your boss told you not to see anyone, surely he must have said something about his actual attitude, right?"

In the brief moment the clerk hesitated, the proprietress—after all, she was also in business—reacted quickly. She immediately fished a prepared pack of Hua cigarettes from her trench coat pocket and swiftly stuffed it into the clerk's hand.

The clerk froze for a beat, then immediately tucked the hand gripping the cigarette pack into his sleeve.

Only then did he slowly say, "Uncle Qing was furious—his attitude is very firm. What he means is absolutely no reconciliation. This incident made Uncle Qing lose a great deal of face, so… he's made up his mind to make the three who threw the punches pay for it.

You should go somewhere else and figure something out."

Chen Yan raised an eyebrow. "Nothing to discuss? What if we pay more—medical fees, emotional damages—we kick in extra?"

The clerk originally didn't want to bother, but out of regard for that pack of cigarettes, he glanced left and right and said in a lowered voice, "Brother, let me be straight with you.

Uncle Qing isn't poor—he's not short on money. Besides, the beating wasn't serious, just minor injuries. How much could the medical fees possibly amount to?

Do you know what Uncle Qing was doing when he got hit? He was reading feng shui for someone at a mall, and standing right next to him was that mall's big boss.

And then your boys—good grief—burst out and beat Uncle Qing right there on the spot, making him look so wretched.

Do you know how much face Uncle Qing lost? Right in front of his money-bag boss!"

Chen Yan understood at once.

This Luo Qing must have swindled some rich boss somewhere again—reading feng shui for people?

He must have put on that lofty-master act of his to the hilt.

And then suddenly three little nobodies burst out and slammed this master to the ground and pummeled him.

How do you think that money-bag boss would take it?

Wouldn't the master's whole persona collapse on the spot?

It's not just losing face—he'd have to pay up too. That deal might very well fall through.

"Absolutely nothing to discuss?" Chen Yan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The boss said there's nothing to discuss." The clerk waved his hand. "Alright, telling you this much is already plenty, isn't it? Don't make things hard for me. You should hurry on."

`

Though the proprietress was unwilling, there was nothing to be done. She could only leave Luoyun Zhai with Chen Yan.

After walking a few steps down the street with her head lowered, she suddenly looked up and glanced at Chen Yan. "Chen Yan, you…"

"Proprietress, you're not still thinking of going back to beg them, are you?" Chen Yan shook his head. "It's useless. I bet half of what that clerk just said was actually scripted by Luo Qing himself.

Their attitude is very clear. Going back to plead now won't do any good."

The proprietress drew a deep breath. "But I… what am I supposed to do? I can't just leave those three boys to fend for themselves."

Chen Yan thought for a moment. "I think going door-to-door begging won't work. Go back first and think—connections, networks—anyone who might be able to reach him, someone with a bit of face. Then get someone to mediate in between. That's better than getting the door slammed in your face, right?"

The proprietress mulled it over seriously. It was a method that wasn't really a method, but beyond that, there truly seemed to be no other move.

"Fine… I'll go back and ask around."

Chen Yan breathed a sigh of relief. He walked the proprietress to the roadside of the commercial district, then suddenly slapped his forehead. "Oh, proprietress, lend me fifty yuan to cab home, will you? My card's empty."

The proprietress gave Chen Yan a puzzled look, added him on WeChat on the spot, and transferred him two hundred.

"You should hurry home and rest too. And…" The proprietress gave Chen Yan a deep look. "Xiao Yan, you've graduated and started working now. Don't squander your salary! Save some money—you never know when it'll come in handy."

Chen Yan smiled and saw the proprietress off at the curb, watching her get into a car and drive away.

Actually, what Chen Yan had just said was only meant to comfort her—the goal was to send her on her way.

After seeing the proprietress off, Chen Yan himself turned back toward the commercial street. He wandered around for a while, didn't go back to Luoyun Zhai, but instead visited two other shops.

He bought a set of writing brushes and a block of pine-pattern ink, plus a pack of yellow talisman paper. The top-grade cinnabar was out of stock, so he got a slightly lesser grade and bought a box.

Altogether it cost close to ten thousand yuan.

Carrying this bundle of things, Chen Yan wandered until he found a restaurant on the commercial street and asked for a private room.

He ordered a few dishes and a pot of corn juice. Eating and drinking, Chen Yan slapped the table.

This can't go on—the books won't balance.

From the proprietress, he only got two hundred yuan.

But his own purchases ran close to ten thousand.

Last time helping Lu Sisi too—he only took a hundred and twenty from the little Miss, but all in all spent several hundred thousand out of pocket! (The money for compensating the apartment)

I, Chen the Great Philanthropist, can't keep doing business at a loss like this!

Chen Yan gritted his teeth: I need to find a money bag to foot the bill!!

He picked up his phone and dialed Fang Fang Zong.

Once the call connected, Chen Yan laughed. "Fang Fang Zong, how's the recovery going?"

Fang Fang Zong's side came with cheerful laughter. "Ha! Chen Chen Laoshi, thanks for your concern—I'm doing great. These past few days have been peaceful and safe, and my body's recovering. That talisman of yours really works wonders. I've been steady as a rock these past few days—nothing's happened at all."

"Mm." Chen Yan nodded, then said lightly, "They made you sick, made you lose money, and in the end made you break your leg… are you really okay with that?"

"…" Fang Fang Zong was silent for a few seconds, then said in a very solemn tone, "Chen Chen Laoshi, please hold on a moment."

Fang Fang Zong was sitting in his company office. The office had already been cleaned out—everything had been replaced with new items. Not a single piece of paper from the original things was left behind.

Holding his phone, he slowly shot a look. Assistant Yan in the room immediately understood, turned, walked out, and closed the office door behind him.

"Chen Chen Laoshi, do you have any brilliant suggestions?" Fang Fang Zong leaned back in his chair and asked with a smile.

He… of course wasn't willing to let it go!

To put it plainly, the beating Luo Qing took a couple days ago was arranged by Fang Fang Zong.

Assistant Yan had someone tail Luo Qing for a few days and figured out this Uncle Qing's movements.

Then, through a middleman, he found three out-of-town hotheads from the university district on the east side of the city and had them teach Luo Qing a lesson.

The job was done very cleanly — the three hot-headed kids who carried it out didn't even know the middleman's name, and there wasn't even a transfer record; they'd just taken an envelope stuffed with ten thousand in cash.

The same day Uncle Qing got beaten up, Fang Fang Zong got word of it.

But… how could that possibly be enough?

How much had he himself suffered from being screwed over!

One serious illness, and he nearly died in the hospital!

A truckload of goods on his business tipped over, costing him several million!

And in the end he even broke a leg — it's still in a cast right now!

The other side just took a random beating, a few punches and kicks, nothing more than soft-tissue bruising at most.

That's it?

Definitely not enough!

Still, if the beating had been any heavier, Fang Fang Zong wouldn't have dared — although he was no saint, he wasn't the pure underworld type either.

If a serious injury case really came out of it, he was afraid of the fire burning his own back.

So, Fang Fang Zong's original plan was: I'll just have someone beat you up once, and then, every now and then, every month or two, I'll come at you again.

Over a year, do it ten or eight times — even if each beating isn't heavy, ten or eight times would be enough to make him have a mental breakdown.

If it's not enough, then continue into the second year!

That's called slicing meat with a blunt knife — take it slow.

But the phone call Chen Yan suddenly made gave Fang Fang Zong a better option all at once.

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Fang Fang Zong relaxed his body in the chair, stretched his legs out flat, then held the phone and said in a low voice: "Chen Chen Laoshi, please go into detail?"

How could Chen Yan spell things out too clearly? He laughed and said slowly: "I can't really say why, but I do know one principle — good and evil will always be repaid, Heaven's way always runs in cycles.

Some people do evil, and maybe old Heaven will naturally bring them a bit of disaster or illness or something.

Sometimes, justice may be late, but it never fails to show up.

You'd agree with that reasoning, wouldn't you, Fang Fang Zong?"

Fang Fang Zong's eyes lit up; he reached across the desk, grabbed a cigarette, lit it for himself, and took a drag.

"Chen Chen Laoshi's words are the proper principle," Fang Fang Zong said with a smile. "Hearing you say this, my heart feels a lot brighter.

Oh right, Chen Chen Laoshi, it just so happens I have something I need to ask of you."

Chen Yan laughed: "Please go ahead, Fang Fang Zong."

Fang Fang Zong cleared his throat and said slowly: "You are living in that house of mine, after all.

Recently I've had an idea — that house is quite old now, who knows where it might be worn down and in need of repair, leaking here, a brick falling there. I want to buy some furnishings, tidy the place up again, fix it up a bit.

But as you know, it's the end of the year, too many things going on, too busy! My people really can't spare the time.

So I was thinking, since Chen Chen Laoshi is living in that house, why not trouble Chen Chen Laoshi to act on my behalf and handle this for me?"

Chen Yan was amused.

This Fang Fang Zong, he gets it.

His tone was very even: "I wonder what Fang Fang Zong's budget is for fixing up the house?"

Fang Fang Zong probed: "What do you think — if I spend two hundred thousand to fix up that house, can I get it looking decent?"

Chen Yan heard this and laughed: "Fang Fang Zong, that house of yours is a mansion. A grand house like that — spend too little and you won't get any result — it wouldn't match!"

Mm, that meant he thought the money was too little.

Fang Fang Zong deliberated for a moment, thinking about his serious illness, the money lost, the broken leg…

He knit his brows: "Fou… mm, five hundred thousand then? Five hundred thousand should be able to fix the house up properly, right?"

"That'll do," Chen Yan nodded at once.

"However, fixing up a house is a rather troublesome matter. Since I've entrusted this matter to you, Chen Chen Laoshi…"

Chen Yan laughed: "Understood! The house is being renovated under my name, so if any trouble comes up, naturally I'll handle it all."

"Good!"

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