Chapter 84

The game ended in Pangzi's shameless whining; from the fifth round on, Pangzi began losing several rounds in a row, playing feeling extremely stifled—a game you can't win is always boring for a person. So our lovable Wang Daya bluntly threw out: "I'm not playing anymore."

Afterwards, Pangzi naturally turned his head and asked Fan Wuchang: "I say, Chang Ge, you didn't bring me to see your boss, did you? Where is your boss?" After saying that, he kept turning his head left and right, looking 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 spasm; this expression was just like an aunt seeing her daughter elope, wishing she could smack her daughter to death with a shoe sole.

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 feigning ignorance, asking so innocently, damn it's enough to torment someone.

"I am Chen Zheng! You looking for me?" Chen Zheng's voice was very gentle, showing not a trace of the big boss's shadow; he was completely a scholar, 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, smiling at Pangzi. When I finally got a clear look at Chen Zheng at that moment, I couldn't help but feel a strange sensation welling up inside me.

Judging by his features, Chen Zheng's age should be quite young, at most in his early thirties, but 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.

My doubt hadn't even cleared up when Pangzi's strange shout cut me off.

"Um, Zheng Ge, you wouldn't..." After the scream, Pangzi asked very cautiously; that careful tone made me beside him roll my eyes involuntarily—damn, you only now know to be scared? Earlier you were having a blast, even daring to throw the joystick in their face, acting shameless and saying you weren't playing.

"You're the one who said, 'Geomancy favors discharge, not confrontation; disregarding harmony brings heavenly punishment,'" Chen Zheng lightly patted Pangzi's shoulder, then after asking, he proudly said: "Very good, very good!"

We three still didn't know where the good was, when Chen Zheng suddenly threw us a bombshell: "The feng shui of my ancestral home is yours to handle." He was decisive and firm, without the slightest hesitation.

"Really, that's really thanks, Zheng Ge!" Pangzi gave a hehe laugh, then immediately asked: "What about my friend's matter..." The matter Pangzi mentioned naturally referred to Yuan Qiu's affair.

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

Unexpectedly, Chen Zheng just smiled and then said to Yuan Qiu: "Don't worry, I'll handle the Victory and Harmony side. Since you're doing things for me, I ought to let you feel at ease while you're at it."

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 my ancestral home's situation to them clearly?" Chen Zheng lit a cigarette, instructing Fan Wuchang.

Immediately, he sat down beside the tea table, gently waving at us: "Since you're here, have a seat, 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 tea utensils with hot water. His tea‑making steps were gentle and natural, each lift and set appearing perfectly seamless, without a single flaw.

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

After the tea was brewed, Chen Zheng handed each of us three a cup. I took that excessively small cup, took a light sip—the tea was bitter and astringent, the bitterness making my tongue feel slightly numb, but after the numbness faded, there lingered a sweetness that invited long reflection.

"From the moment you walked in 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.

My heart gave a start, a wry smile flickered across my mind—his gaze was indeed sharp; even just peeking through his eyes, he could still perceive a person's thoughts.

But I couldn't tell him the truth; I could only frown, look around the room, full of doubt, and ask him: "Why would you live in a place like this..." I wasn't lying either—this really is one of my doubts.

"Why am I so rich yet choose to live in a place like this?" Chen Zheng directly voiced my doubt.

He sighed, wearily rose to his feet, running his hand over every inch of the wall, and recalled 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 everything hard‑won, and never forget my roots."

Although I never knew his past, from the rumors about him I could still glean a bit. It's said that after Chen Zheng came to Aomen, for a long time he was a laborer on the docks, and only later was he noticed by Murong Dong and thus entered the East Mausoleum.

The docks in the 80.90s were a mixed‑bag place, like Hong Kong's Triple Harmony Society; its founders were dock workers, and later, to protect themselves from outside oppression and bullying, they established the Hong Gate, which thus became the precursor of the Triple Harmony Society.

His gaze was very calm, yet I unintentionally 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 as the sunset drops, body and mind full of fatigue. Perhaps it's his extraordinary experience that gave him a prematurely aged appearance and a perceptive mindset toward worldly affairs.

"Ah Zheng, how come there are guests in the house and you didn't tell me a word!" At that moment a weak, soft voice sounded in the room, and a frail figure appeared in everyone's sight.

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 long in bed; her voice was weak and feeble.

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

"How did you come out? You're not feeling well—hurry back to bed and rest, watch out for the chill." At the moment the woman appeared, Chen Zheng's figure flashed; so fast it seemed unbelievable, like a breeze passing, he was already at her side, supporting her with his hand, his tone three parts blame, seven parts pity.

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

"There are guests at home—I must properly greet them! You wait, I'll go cook rice right 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 made one feel like basking in a spring breeze.

"Zheng Ge, don't worry, I'll soon have everything ready; the elder sister‑in‑law's illness will be cured shortly." At the same time, Fan Wuchang blurted out an off‑key remark.

But soon he was met with a frown and a glare from Chen Zheng: "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—a single sentence could make one's heart tremble for no apparent reason.

"Ah... A Chang, what did you say? A Zheng, what do you want him 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; as long as 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 doesn't feel like a big boss but rather like a refined scholar, and now he's 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, then had him lead us to his ancestral home.

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

"That woman, she's not normal……"

My heart jumped at once, because that voice was actually 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 at a loss.

As 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 reason she's still alive is because that man is giving his own life in exchange for hers."