Chapter 208

I only saw a few blurry figures before me; those hazy figures seemed to be that middle-aged nouveau riche and his bodyguards. The middle-aged nouveau riche had his hands on his hips, shouting at me and spitting, cursing loudly. As for what he was cursing, I couldn't hear or see clearly. At that moment, besides the pain and dizziness, my brain only felt a strong roaring in my ears, with no other sensation.

The middle-aged nouveau riche cursed for a while, then left with his two bodyguards. I, leaning against the wall, rested for a while before I came to.

Staggering while holding the wall, I walked toward the alley's exit. I knew I could no longer follow them; the middle-aged nouveau riche and his two bodyguards had already misunderstood me. If there were a next time, I probably wouldn't be so lucky.

As I hunched and ran out of the lane, a man came from the same direction; unexpectedly, my head struck his stomach. Instinctively, I lifted my head and said sorry to him.

The man said nothing, sidestepped me and kept walking; only when he passed behind me did I suddenly regain my senses, breaking out in a cold sweat.

He wore a gray fur coat, his belly protruding round and firm, one hand covering his face so his features were indistinct; even after bumping into someone, he uttered not a word.

How could this man be exactly like the Masked Beast described in Pangzi's story?

Breaking out in a cold sweat, I shouted at him without thinking, "Stop!" As I turned, a fat hand grabbed my throat tightly; next, my vision went black, and the hand's owner flung me against the wall, my head slamming hard into it, even drawing bright red blood.

Afterward, the violent impact caused me to lose consciousness and I fainted completely.

……………………………………………………………………………………

When I woke up, I found myself lying in a hospital again. Pangzi sat on another sickbed, brows furrowed with worry, watching over me. Seeing me open my eyes, his knotted brows finally relaxed.

"You're awake!" Pangzi exclaimed anxiously, rushing over and fumbling with the kettle lid to pour me a cup of water.

I patted my still‑muddled head, and after a moment I came to, took Pangzi's water, gulped it down with a gurgle, and only then felt a bit of strength return.

"I've run into trouble—got beaten up by the bodyguards using Israeli martial arts, and then screwed by a dead fat guy like you." I set down the water cup and gave Pangzi a wry smile.

"Ah… I've run into trouble too!" Pangzi rubbed his forehead, and under my puzzled gaze he said slowly, "I was screwed by a bald guy like you."

I: "……" stared at Pangzi with a face full of black lines, and weakly said, "I'm not joking with you."

Pangzi likewise stared at me with deep eyes and said, "I'm not joking either—that bald guy sold dog meat under the guise of mutton; I ate the dog meat, and now my cultivation has been temporarily disrupted, boo‑hoo…"

Pangzi's body, as bulky as pork, lunged at me like a tiger, grabbed my sleeve and fiercely wiped his nose on it: "You say people nowadays are so unscrupulous—I even trusted him, and I helped him eat eight big bowls in a row."

I: "…………"

"Why don't you admit it's your gluttony that caused the trouble!" After being speechless for a while, I harshly looked down on Pangzi. Perhaps I should swap places with him—let him go look for the gambling den while I guard the market; that would be the wise choice.

"By the way, yesterday a few burly men in suits came to see you. Who were they? They all seemed to be from the military; the leader, though clean‑cut, had an extraordinary bearing. Rumor has it he's the manager of a certain gambling den!" Pangzi sliced an apple, took a big bite, and casually asked me.

My heart tightened, and I hurriedly asked him, "What do the gambling den people want? They didn't cause you trouble, did they? Those gambling den folks are no pushovers!"

Pangzi didn't take my nervousness seriously, biting the apple and speaking unclearly: "Nothing much, they just asked about your situation, and mine too, then left."

Seeing me tense up, Pangzi patted my shoulder and comforted, "Don't be so nervous—it's just a lousy gambling den."

"A lousy gambling den? Its background is terrifying—comparable to, or maybe even stronger than, Chen Zheng of Aomen!" I retorted.

"No matter how scary a gambling den is, it's still just a gambling den!" Pangzi rolled his eyes, not taking it seriously at all.

At the same moment, a sudden thumping knock came from outside the ward, interrupting my conversation with Pangzi. As Pangzi just opened the door, several burly men rushed in. Then, a middle‑aged man about 1.8 meters tall and heavily built entered, accompanied by a secretary in a suit.

Pangzi and I froze at once, for this middle‑aged man was none other than Yao Yirong's brother—Yao Wenju.

"Hello, Brother Wenju, long time no see, I've missed you dearly. I didn't expect you to come all the way from Guangdong just to see us." Pangzi happily grabbed Yao Wenju's shoulders and gave him a warm bear hug.

"By the way, Brother Wenju, are you here to force a marriage, or to force a marriage? Are you here to discuss Hai Sheng and your sister? I think if you have anything to say, just tell me—since the elder brother is like a father, I can make decisions for Hai Sheng. As for the dowry, that's flexible, but since the Yao family has only one daughter, you can't be too stingy, or people will gossip, which isn't good." Pangzi rattled on, fingers flying and saliva spraying, causing Yao Wenju's stern face to twitch.

"You… are you from the gambling den?" After a moment of losing focus, I blurted out with my mouth wide open.

Indeed, Yao Wenju must be from the gambling den. Those burly men behind him have exactly the same bearing as the bodyguards who ambushed me.

"Well, that gambling den—our Yao family holds some shares." Yao Wenju's words shocked me greatly; although I suspected his status in the den wasn't low, I never imagined the Yao family would be one of the hidden bosses.

To open such a gambling den that launders stolen goods and black money, even involving murder and trafficking, shows the Yao family's background is more terrifying than I imagined. However, the Yao family's ties to the underworld come as no surprise. Ask yourself: which prosperous aristocratic clan nowadays doesn't have some connection to the underworld? Which of their enterprises lacks protection from both black and white forces, or even has its own people who straddle both worlds, handling many troublesome matters they'd rather not deal with personally?

"Oh, I see you're not here to talk about the dowry then. Never mind—I'll pretend I said nothing; you carry on, I'm going to eat an apple." Upon hearing that Yao Wenju had come for another reason, Pangzi listlessly sat back on the sickbed and began slicing an apple.

"This damn money‑grubber!" Looking at Wang Da Pang idly slicing an apple on the other bed, I felt like grabbing a shoe and stamping it on his face.

"Why did you come looking for me?" I took a deep breath, doing my best to ignore Pangzi.

In my view, Brother Wenju certainly didn't come just to see me. Based on what Pangzi said, the gambling den people already visited me once. Therefore, he must have come for some reason—perhaps…

"Well, I heard from my subordinates' report that your names came up in this matter, and their description matches you two perfectly. That's why I came specially." Yao Wenju sat beside me, lit a cigar, and said slowly, "The employer at the venue is dead, including the two bodyguards who were escorting him—they all died in the alley."

"Sure enough," I thought to myself, then asked Yao Wenju without changing expression, "When they died, were their kidneys and intestines dug out?"

"Mm," Yao Wenju replied, lowering his head: "It's said you fainted less than a hundred meters from where they died, and you also had a clash with my venue's bodyguards." He glanced at me and said, "Such an incident affects the venue's reputation, so I had to come check it out."

"I didn't kill them!" I stared at Yao Wenju and slowly shook my head.

Yao Wenju said, "I know it wasn't you who killed them, so I came to get the facts straight." After a pause, he looked at me and added, "Even if you had killed them, it wouldn't matter—you saved Yirong, and the Yao family still owes you a favor."

"But it really wasn't me who killed them," I said with a bitter look at Yao Wenju, while secretly feeling relieved inside. Fortunately, the person behind the gambling den is Yao Wenju, and fortunately he found us in time; otherwise, I and Pangzi wouldn't know how much trouble we'd be in.

"I suspect the killer might be…" I trailed off, hesitantly glancing at the few bodyguards standing guard in the corner of the ward.

"All of you, get out!" Yao Wenju instantly understood my meaning, stood still, and casually waved his hand at the bodyguards behind him.

Almost as Yao Wenju lifted his hand, those bodyguards left the ward in orderly fashion. Only the young man in a suit holding a briefcase, similar to Yao Wenju's secretary, remained.

Seeing my eyes darting to the bespectacled young man in a suit looking around, Yao Wenju extended his hand, pointed at him, and introduced us: "This is the venue's manager and my capable assistant, Sun Miao."

"Hello to you both; if you don't mind, just call me Xiao Sun." Sun Miao chuckled and nodded at us with a smile.

"Well, Xiao Sun, are you congenitally lacking water in the Five Elements?" Suddenly, Pangzi, who was gnawing an apple at the head of the bed, blurted out this nonsense question.

Sun Miao turned in surprise, looked at Pangzi, and asked in astonishment, "How did you know that?"

Pangzi flicked the apple core aside and said dismissively, "It's simple—folk custom works like that: without looking at the auspicious deity, you go by what's missing in the Five Elements; lacking fire gives you Yan, lacking gold gives you Xin, lacking wood gives you Sen, lacking water gives you Miao."

I was about to complain why Pangzi suddenly changed the topic to talk about irrelevant stuff, but after hearing his explanation I actually asked him a brain‑dead question.

"Pangzi, names with Yan lack fire, those with Xin lack gold—so what does Silijing, whose name contains the character Jing, lack?"

The words had barely left my mouth when I quickly covered it. Damn, I'd momentarily been foul‑mouthed and said the wrong thing.

I turned my head, and as expected, saw Pangzi's face flushed red, his complexion turning dark as iron, glaring at me with clenched teeth.

Suddenly, an object arced through a ninety‑degree trajectory and flew toward my injured head—it was the half‑eaten apple Pangzi had bitten. At the same time came his furious tirade.

Chen Hai Sheng, you damn bastard, you deserve to get fucked!

I: "……"