Chapter 356

The game ended amid Pangzi's shameless whining; from the fifth round onward, Pangzi began losing several rounds in a row, playing feeling extremely stifled—a game one cannot win is always boring for a person. So our lovable Old King bluntly threw down: "I'm not playing anymore."

Afterward, Pangzi naturally turned his head again and asked Fan Wuchang: "I say, Brother Chang, you didn't bring me to see your boss, did you? Where is your boss?" Having said that, he still turned his head left and right, looking around for Fan Wuchang's boss, completely ignoring the boss who had just been playing the game with him nearby.

Fan Wuchang's mouth corners twitched in a wave-like motion; this expression was just like that of an aunt seeing her daughter elope, wishing she could smack her daughter to death with a shoe.

I thought, if anyone could borrow a shoe from Fan Wuchang, Fan Wuchang would unhesitatingly slap it onto Pangzi's old man's face; this tone of feigned innocence, asking so naively, is damn torturous.

"I am Chen Zheng! You're looking for me?" Chen Zheng's voice was extremely gentle, showing not a trace of the underworld boss; he was completely a scholar, and no one could link this refined, elegant young man with the dy fighting champion and the two rulers of Aomen's underground dynasty.

He turned his body and smiled at Pangzi. When I finally got a clear look at Chen Zheng at that moment, I couldn't help but feel a strange sensation well up inside me.

Judging by his features, Chen Zheng's age should be quite young, at most in his early thirties, yet why is his hair white like an old man's, and what's with the wrinkles on his forehead? A man in his early thirties should give the impression of someone who has endured countless hardships, like a weathered old man.

I hadn't finished thinking through my doubts when Pangzi's strange shout cut me off.

"Um… Brother Zheng, you wouldn't…" After the scream, Pangzi asked very cautiously; this careful tone made me beside him roll my eyes—damn, you only now know to be scared? Just a moment ago you were having fun, daring to throw the joystick in their face and shamelessly say you're not playing.

"You're the one who said, "Feng shui favors discharge, not confrontation; disregarding harmony invites heavenly punishment," Chen Zheng lightly patted Pangzi's shoulder, then, self-satisfied, said: "Very good, very good!"

We three still didn't know what was good, when Chen Zheng immediately threw us another bombshell: "The feng shui of my ancestral home is yours to handle." He was decisive and unwavering.

"Really, thank you so much, Brother Zheng!" Pangzi gave a hehe laugh, then asked: "What about my friend's matter?" Naturally, the matter Pangzi referred to was Yuan Qiu's.

Just as he was about to speak of it, Yuan Qiu promptly grabbed him. Yuan Qiu's eyes held a hint of resentment, blaming Pangzi for making the request so quickly. After all, since they hadn't yet finished the task for him, how could they feel comfortable asking him for help so soon?

Unexpectedly, Chen Zheng merely smiled and then told Yuan Qiu: "Rest assured, I'll take care of Shenghe's side. Since you're handling things for me, I ought to let you work without worry."

He took out a cigarette from the cabinet and asked us: "Do you smoke?"

I and Yuan Qiu shook our heads; only Pangzi nodded and took a pack. This cigarette isn't expensive—it's Marlboro brand. Mainlanders don't much like smoking it because it's light and has a bitter taste.

"Later, you'll explain the matter of my ancestral home to them clearly?" Chen Zheng lit a cigarette and instructed Fan Wuchang.

Immediately, he sat down by the tea table, gently gesturing to us: "Since you're here, have a seat and try my tea."

I, Yuan Qiu, and Pangzi all sat opposite Chen Zheng,

He took out a box of iron oolong tea, placed it beside the tea table, and scalded all the teaware with hot water. His tea‑making steps were gentle and natural, each lift and set appearing seamless, without a single flaw.

"Water seven‑eight parts, phoenix nods three times…" Yuan Qiu murmured softly; I didn't understand, so I quietly asked him, and Yuan Qiu told me the first half refers to the ratio of hot water to tea leaves, the second half to tea‑ceremony etiquette: when pouring tea, the host lightly points the teapot spout three times toward the guest, which is the 'phoenix nods three times.'

After the tea was brewed, Chen Zheng handed each of us a cup; I took that excessively small cup, sipped lightly—the tea was bitter and astringent, making my tongue feel slightly numb, but after the numbness faded, it left a lingering sweetness worth savoring.

"From the moment you entered until now, your eyes looking at me have been full of doubt; can you tell me what you're doubting?" He suddenly asked me, catching me off guard.

I was startled in my heart, a faint bitter smile crossing my mind; his gaze was indeed sharp, able to perceive one's thoughts even through a mere glance.

But I couldn't tell him the truth; I could only frown and look around the house, full of doubt, asking him: "Why do you live in such a place…" I wasn't lying—this truly was one of my doubts.

"Why, despite being so wealthy, do I choose to live in such a house?" Chen Zheng directly voiced my doubt.

He sighed, wearily rose, and stroked every inch of the wall, speaking emotionally: "I've been poor since childhood; I want to remind myself that no matter what position I'm in, I must never forget I was once poor, cherish what I've earned, and never forget my roots."

Although I never knew his past, from rumors about him I could still glean a bit. It's said that after Chen Zheng came to Aomen, he long worked as a dock laborer, and only later was noticed by Murong Dong, eventually entering Dongling.

The dock in the 80s‑90s was a mixed bag, like Hong Kong's triads; their founders were dock workers, and later, to protect themselves from outside oppression and bullying, they founded the Hongmen, thus becoming the precursor to the triads.

His gaze was very calm, yet I inadvertently caught a hint of bitterness, a trace of sorrow. When that sorrow appeared on his face, he looked even more weathered; gazing at his back, I seemed to see an old man clinging to life at sunset, body and mind full of fatigue. Perhaps it is his extraordinary experiences that gave him a prematurely aged appearance and a perceptive mind.

"Ah Zheng, how come guests have come and you didn't tell me?" At that moment a weak, gentle voice sounded in the room, and a frail figure appeared before everyone's eyes.

She had a melon‑seed face, her nose slightly prominent, yet her complexion was very pale, like a patient who had just recovered after lying in bed a long time; her voice was feeble and lacking strength.

Fan Wuchang respectfully called out to her, "Elder sister‑in‑law!"

"How did you come out? Your health is poor—hurry back to your room to rest, watch out for the chill." At the moment the woman appeared, Chen Zheng's figure flashed, moving so fast it seemed unbelievable, like a gust of wind passing; he appeared beside her, supporting her with his hand, his tone three parts blame, seven parts pity.

This woman must be Chen Zheng's wife, Dong Yumin.

"Guests have come to the house—I must properly receive them! You wait, I'll go cook rice now." Even though her face was pale and she was already a married woman, Dong Yumin still bore the refined grace of a scholarly family; her speech and manner were like a spring breeze.

"Brother Zheng, rest assured—I'll gather everything soon, and your sister‑in‑law's illness will be cured quickly." At the same time, Fan Wuchang blurted out an off‑key remark.

But soon Chen Zheng frowned and glared at him: "What are you blabbering about?"

Chen Zheng raised his brows; though he didn't get angry, he exuded an aura that made one dare not defy him, and a single sentence could cause an inexplicable tremor in one's heart.

"Ah… Ah Chang, what did you say? Ah Zheng, what do you want me to prepare?" Dong Yumin's tone was full of doubt.

"Nothing much, just some medicinal herbs; recently I found an old Chinese doctor who has a prescription—once the herbs are gathered, your illness will be cured." Chen Zheng stroked Dong Yumin's hair, full of pity.

This again showed me a tender side of the underworld tyrant; from the moment I met Chen Zheng, I've had the illusion that he feels not like a crime boss but like a refined scholar, and now he has become a loving husband who dotes on his wife.

After Dong Yumin appeared, Chen Zheng's heart seemed wholly given to her, so he had no spare time to entertain us further; he gave Fan Wuchang two instructions and then had him lead us to his ancestral home.

However, just as I stepped out of Chen Zheng's gate, a voice suddenly sounded in my ear.

"This woman, she's not normal…"

My heart jumped at once, for this voice was none other than Murong Jiaja's.

From the moment the Spirit Jade was cast, Murong Jiaja has stayed inside, rarely coming out.

Now she suddenly blurted out this sentence, really leaving me a bit bewildered.

While I wondered why Murong Jiaja would say that, the next sentence she uttered practically stirred up stormy waves in my heart.

"She should already be dead; the only reason she's still alive is because that man is giving his own life in exchange for hers."

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