Chapter 7: Chapter 7
“Heh heh!”
“And what if I do?”
Retainer Jiang sneered, leaning in close to Li Suifeng’s ear, his voice like ice:
“If you hadn’t stuck your nose in, the Linshui Docks would’ve been mine!”
“I’ll tell you straight to your face — as long as I, Jiang Cheng, am running the Cuihong Pavilion, you won’t see a single coin from my place. Not one!”
Li Suifeng regarded Retainer Jiang through half-lidded eyes, his tone mild:
“The protection fees for this street and the docks were set by the Helmsman himself. Retainer Jiang — you’re sitting on territory the Branch gave you, openly defying the Helmsman’s orders. That doesn’t look too good, does it?”
Retainer Jiang’s expression flickered.
He might not regard Li Suifeng as a threat, and Elder Qin had his back, but openly disobeying the Helmsman’s authority was another matter entirely.
“Heh heh!”
As if sensing Jiang Cheng’s discomfort, Song Tianhai stepped forward with a cold sneer.
“Kid, if you know what’s good for you, keep things the way they’ve been. Otherwise, don’t you even dream of taking a single copper from my Yichun Hou—”
WHAM!
Before Song Tianhai could finish the sentence, his body was already sailing through the air. He crashed through two tables behind him, splintering them to kindling. Blood poured from his mouth, his eyes bulging with disbelief, as he crumpled to the floor.
“Outrageous!”
“Li Suifeng — what is the meaning of this?”
“How dare you!”
Several breaths passed before the first cries of outrage found their voice.
No one had expected Li Suifeng to actually strike. He was a suspected eighth-rank fighter at best — where did he find the nerve?
Most of the room instinctively edged back several steps, not daring to stand too close.
Retainer Jiang, however, had a strange gleam in his eyes. That kick had been fast — too fast. Even he hadn’t tracked it clearly.
It seemed the rumors about Li Suifeng reaching eighth-rank were true.
“Boss Li!”
Even Liu Yuan’s heart lurched.
They hadn’t brought anyone with them. Every shopkeeper here had guards in tow — the entire third floor was packed with their escorts. If a fight broke out, Li Suifeng at least had martial arts to protect himself. Liu Yuan knew maybe two and a half moves.
TAP TAP TAP!
Footsteps thundered up the stairs.
Dozens of guards poured up from the third floor. The man at their head moved with a tiger’s gait — around thirty years old.
It was Chen Kaishan, disciple of the Divine Fist Gate.
Chen Kaishan took one look at Song Tianhai lying motionless on the floor and his face went dark. He rounded on Li Suifeng, fury burning in every line.
“Was this you?”
Regret gnawed at him. They’d calculated that Li Suifeng would never dare cross this many people at once, so the guards had stayed downstairs drinking. He hadn’t expected Li Suifeng to put Song Tianhai down the moment he walked through the door.
Song Tianhai was one of the Divine Fist Gate’s prized cash cows. Now that the man was lying here — alive or dead, unclear — Chen Kaishan was looking at a serious reprimand.
Li Suifeng didn’t even spare Chen Kaishan a glance. A trace of impatience crossed his face as he swept his gaze over the assembled shopkeepers.
“I didn’t come here today to negotiate. One question — the silver owed to our Canal Gang. Are you paying, or aren’t you?”
“You…” Every shopkeeper in the room felt a chill sink into their bones.
But no one dared utter another word, afraid Li Suifeng would lash out again.
“I’m talking to you.”
“Was this your doing?”
Chen Kaishan’s face flushed crimson. He was an eighth-rank fighter — a name that carried weight in Nanyang Prefecture. And now this ninth-rank nobody was treating him like he didn’t exist.
His right hand balled into a fist and exploded toward Li Suifeng’s back.
“Get lost!”
As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Li Suifeng swung one fist around to meet Chen Kaishan’s punch head-on.
CRACK!
The sound of shattering bone.
“AAAGH!”
A piercing scream tore from Chen Kaishan’s throat.
His right fist — his pride and weapon — was bent at an unnatural angle. Anyone with eyes could see it was ruined.
Even if it healed someday, he’d be lucky to recover a third of his former power.
“You… you crippled me?”
Beads of cold sweat the size of soybeans rolled down Chen Kaishan’s forehead. He cradled his shattered hand with his left, his face ashen.
“Crippled you? I’m going to kill you.” Li Suifeng’s brow furrowed. He plucked a chopstick from the nearest table.
SHUNK!
The chopstick punched through Chen Kaishan’s throat. His body hit the floor.
Blood pooled outward from the wound, staining the ground around him red.
Killing Song Tianhai alone wasn’t enough to make his point. Only the death of an eighth-rank fighter would put real fear into these people — and only then would his task be completed.
Get the Life-Death Talisman first. He refused to believe the Divine Fist Gate would go to war with the Canal Gang’s Nanyang Branch over a single Chen Kaishan.
Chen Kaishan was dead!
Half the people in the fourth-floor private room had begun to tremble.
They were truly afraid now.
How long had it been?
Song Tianhai, who’d been laughing and joking with them moments ago, lay on the floor in unknown condition. Chen Kaishan, a man of considerable renown in Nanyang Prefecture, was as dead as dead could get.
“Li Suifeng, you’ve got some nerve! Are you trying to start a war between our Nanyang Branch and the Divine Fist Gate?” Retainer Jiang’s voice was sharp, but his bluster rang hollow. “I’ll be reporting this to the Helmsman!”
With that, Retainer Jiang spun on his heel and headed for the stairs.
But he hadn’t taken more than a few steps.
CLANG!
A chopstick embedded itself in the floor directly in his path.
“Li Suifeng — what is this?”
Retainer Jiang’s face had gone slightly green as he turned back toward Li Suifeng.
“What’s the rush?” Li Suifeng regarded him coolly. “Pay up the two years the Cuihong Pavilion owes first. You can file your complaint after.”
Then Li Suifeng turned to face the rest of the shopkeepers.
“And the rest of you? Paying, or not paying?”
“I don’t have the patience to waste time on you people. I’m giving you two choices.”
“One — hand over the silver you’ve owed these past two years of your own free will. Two — I kill you and go take it myself.”
Every person in the room felt a tremor run through them. Heads dropped. No one dared meet Li Suifeng’s eyes. Not a soul present still doubted that Li Suifeng would make good on his word.
Only Qian Kuan allowed himself a quiet, satisfied smile.
His old friend’s boy — he was something different now.
“Here’s what the Riverside Pavilion owes for the past two years.”
Qian Kuan rose first, placing several banknotes on the table.
“I’ve brought what Shizhi Wei owes as well!”
“The Yihong Pavilion’s share…”
“…”
Over a dozen shopkeepers hurriedly produced banknotes from their persons and laid them on the table.
“Boss Li, I didn’t bring enough silver with me. Could I send someone back for the rest?”
“Boss Li, same here!”
“…”
Five or six shopkeepers spoke up with apologetic expressions. They’d come today expecting this to be a formality — none of them had brought that much silver on their person.
“Mm.”
Li Suifeng nodded.
“Once the money is delivered, you’re free to go.”
“Going forward, make sure the monthly dues are paid on time.”
Then his gaze shifted to the three shopkeepers who still hadn’t spoken.
All three had their eyes fixed on Retainer Jiang. They had no powerful backing of their own — the only reason they’d gotten away without paying was that Retainer Jiang had been shielding them. They’d each sent Retainer Jiang two thousand taels of silver for the privilege.
That alone was equivalent to an entire year’s worth of Canal Gang dues.
And now they were being asked to cough up the past two years on top of that? It would bleed them dry.
The owner of the Xianwei House saw that Retainer Jiang wasn’t saying a word. Panic rising, he blurted out:
“Retainer Jiang — the money we owed, we gave it all to you!”
“We can pay going forward, but making us cover the past two years on top of what we already paid? That’s not right!”