45-Stay!!

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"Misunderstanding, misunderstanding," Huang Sheng suppressed the killing intent in his heart, forcing a smile back onto his face. "I had no idea this was Master Zhong's business. It's like floods washing over the Dragon King's temple—family not recognizing family. Old Xu, you're not being fair! You should've said something earlier. Anyway, I've got some gang business to handle, so we'll catch up later."

With that, he stood to leave.

"No rush."

Zhong Lin reached out and pressed a hand on Huang Sheng's shoulder, his face full of a friendly smile.

In that instant, Huang Sheng's expression changed dramatically. He felt an immense force from Zhong Lin's palm pinning him down. No matter how he struggled, his backside couldn't budge an inch from the chair.

And this was Huang Sheng, a ranked martial artist! Yet against the strength in Zhong Lin's hand, he was powerless.

Eighth Rank.

Huang Sheng screamed inwardly. Only someone at the Eighth Rank Tendon-Refining Realm—or higher—could wield such power.

"Lord Huang, you're my first customer. Won't you stay for a cup of tea?" Zhong Lin asked with a half-smile.

"N-No… no need. T-Thank you for your kindness, Master Zhong. The gang leader ordered me to collect the protection fees, and I can't be late. You understand, right?"

Huang Sheng forced down his inner panic, subtly pointing out that he had backing.

Only then did Zhong Lin slowly withdraw his right hand.

Huang Sheng hurriedly stood, grabbed his two lackeys, and bolted. Once outside the clinic, he broke into a full sprint.

"Lord Huang, what's wrong?" one of his panting lackeys asked.

Huang Sheng ran two streets before stopping, his face flickering between gloom and uncertainty, finally settling into a pang of dread.

"Old Xu, curse your ancestors! You dared dig a pit for me to fall into."

…

"Thanks for that," Xu Lewu said, still shaken.

If Zhong Lin had arrived even a moment later, he'd have been in real trouble. He might not have lost his life, but a beating would've been unavoidable.

"No need to thank me. This business is ours together, after all. But be careful—I can tell this guy won't give up easily. Want me to take care of him for you?"

A cold glint flashed through Zhong Lin's eyes.

"No need for that. Huang Sheng's the type to bully the weak and fear the strong. You deliberately pinned him down just now, didn't you? He's a ranked martial artist, and you overpowered him—so that means you're Eighth Rank?"

Xu Lewu looked at Zhong Lin with eager curiosity.

Zhong Lin didn't bother hiding it and nodded.

"Then there's nothing to worry about. As long as you're fine, I'll be fine."

Zhong Lin didn't press further. Since Old Xu said it was fine, it probably was. The old man wasn't just skilled in medicine—he was sharp at reading people too. Otherwise, he wouldn't have survived in this county.

"How's the Eight-Treasure Blood Nourishing Soup coming along?"

"It's been ready for a while—thirty packs as usual. I've also prepared some hemostatic powder and wound medicine. Take them and test the market. If they sell well, I'll make more."

As he spoke, Xu Lewu pulled a black bundle from under the counter, filled with the medicine packs he'd prepared.

Zhong Lin took it with a nod and turned to leave.

"Wait a sec."

"What's up?"

"Little Zhong, how about I only charge you cost price this time?"

Well, well—the sun rising in the west?

Zhong Lin gave Xu Lewu a teasing half-smile, stopped walking, and stood there, curious to see what the old man was up to.

Xu Lewu coughed, a bit embarrassed. "So, uh… the city's getting messier. Could I bring my wife and grandson to live next to you? It'd be good to have someone looking out for us."

Zhong Lin laughed heartily. This was the real Xu Lewu—latching onto his strength. Otherwise, why would he be so generous? 

"Where do you live?"

"Locust Flower Lane, Unit A-4."

Zhong Lin raised an eyebrow. What a coincidence. He remembered Qin Yong, the guy who used to collect his protection fees—the one he'd wiped out along with his family—lived at Locust Flower Lane, Unit A-6.

"Is Unit A-6 still vacant?"

"It is. Three people died there all at once—no one dares live there."

Zhong Lin thought for a moment. "If the rent's not too high, rent it for me, will you? You don't need to move—I'll move over."

"Perfect! I'll go rent it for you right now. I'll cover the rent."

Xu Lewu's face lit up with excitement, his wrinkles practically blooming into a chrysanthemum.

Zhong Lin laughed again and left the clinic.

Truth be told, Zhong Lin had been wanting to move for a while. The courtyard in Sweetwater Lane was too small. He'd rented it initially because it was cheap, but now it was so cramped he couldn't even practice his martial arts properly. Sometimes, he'd barely start a fist routine before bumping into the walls.

He'd scoped out Qin Yong's place in the dark before. It was bigger, more spacious.

Plus, Little Shi had been cooped up at home for over half a month without playmates. Zhong Lin worried he'd go stir-crazy. 

Xu Lewu's grandson was Little Shi's classmate from preschool—perfect for a companion.

The only hassle was digging another cellar and moving the stored grain over.

Hmm… or not moving it. He wouldn't give up the Sweetwater Lane place anyway—could just use it as a warehouse.

…

Hour of the Pig (9-11 PM).

Black Market.

The gatekeeper was still the same bearded brute. Zhong Lin knew the drill: he silently paid the fee, took his wooden token, and entered.

Compared to last month, the black market was even livelier now, and the goods being traded had shifted significantly.

For instance, there were more vendors selling daily necessities—roosters, eggs, soybeans, rice, and flour.

The reason was obvious: after the County Magistrate imposed limits and price controls on grain purchases, many merchants and citizens turned to the black market. The prices were higher, sure, but it was an option.

What's more ironic was that the black market's order was better than the regular markets. Strong-arm sales and disguised robberies were rare here.

As for robberies outside the black market, thieves didn't bother targeting folks buying a few pounds of flour or rice. What could you squeeze from a bunch of poor saps? So, relatively speaking, it was safer.

Thus, many citizens were willing to pay the one-coin entry fee to trade here.

Because of this, the black market had lost some of its former mystique and gained a touch of everyday bustle.

Zhong Lin almost thought he'd walked into the wrong place.

"Little brother, want a secret manual?"

A figure suddenly appeared before Zhong Lin, sneakily pulling a booklet from his coat.

The scene made Zhong Lin chuckle wryly. Skinny Monkey was dead, but someone had already taken his place.

Ignoring the manual-peddler, Zhong Lin kept walking, found the spot corresponding to his token, and sat down. He skillfully wrote on the wooden board beside him and spread out the bundle behind him.

Soon, people gathered around. Though their faces were masked, their builds made it clear they were his usual customers.

"What's this medicine?"

"Hemostatic powder and wound medicine. Do I need to explain their effects?"

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