House Delivery

After dropping Lin Yue off by taxi, Huo Xuan returned to the Golden Dragon Hotel. When Zhang Wu heard the details, he roared with laughter. "Brother, this time I'll help you bleed Qiao Ba dry. Name your price – don't hold back."

Huo Xuan knew Zhang Wu thrived on chaos. "Master stays at your hotel whenever he visits Jiangzhou. It's inconvenient for teaching, and imposes on you. I've been considering buying property here, but haven't found suitable options."

Zhang Wu nodded. "Well said. Since that blind fool Qiao Ba overstepped, let him foot the bill. I'll handle negotiations."

This aligned perfectly with Huo Xuan's earlier gambit – those who dared extort him would pay dearly. As Hua Buyi's future disciple and inheritor of the Shennong legacy, allowing petty thugs to bully him would become laughingstock material across the Jianghu.

As they plotted Qiao Ba's financial evisceration, two trembling youths stood in a Huangming District villa's parlor, heads bowed before a storm.

A swarthy-faced enforcer glowered beside them. On the leather sofa sat Qiao Ba himself – the fifty-something, moon-faced veteran gangster who'd ruled Jiangzhou's shadows for three decades. His voice held lethal calm: "How enterprising. Extorting Fifth Master's people? You've brought me great honor."

The enforcer spun around and delivered two brutal kicks. The youths didn't dare whimper, faces leaching color.

"Fuck! Useless sacks of shit!" The enforcer turned to Qiao Ba. "How should we handle this, Eighth Lord?"

Qiao Ba steepled pudgy fingers. "Zhang Wu's fangs only bite those stupid enough to provoke him."

"Then let's overthrow him!" The enforcer slammed his fist. "Jiangzhou needs new leadership!"

"Idiot!" Qiao Ba's palm cracked the rosewood table. "Why do you think that old tiger's ruled thirty years unscathed?"

The enforcer shriveled into silence, posture shifting to groveling deference.

Qiao Ba drummed his fingers on the armrest, facial muscles twitching through a spectrum of calculations. "Toppling Zhang Wu isn't impossible," he muttered, "but it'd require uniting every underworld faction in Jiangzhou. Not even I could orchestrate that, let alone those other small-time warlords."

He exhaled sharply. "Prepare one million in cash. Tomorrow I'll personally deliver these two idiots as peace offerings." The gang lord's jowls quivered as if tasting bile. "This... this will bleed us dry."

Noon sunlight glinted off five black sedans parked with military precision outside the Golden Dragon Hotel. Qiao Ba emerged flanked by twenty stone-faced enforcers, their procession cutting through the lobby's opulence to a lavishly decorated hall on the eighteenth floor.

Within the chamber adorned with scholar's calligraphy and rippling koi ponds, Zhang Wu and Huo Xuan sat locked in chess combat. Huo Xuan's rook and knight had cornered the king, while Zhang Wu's lone cannon offered token resistance.

"Brother Huo! What an unexpected pleasure!" Qiao Ba's booming greeting dripped saccharine as his men shoved forward the ashen-faced youths.

Zhang Wu rose with a statesman's grace, scattering chess pieces. "Eighth Brother! To what do we owe this honor?" Their handshake lingered like rival cobras sizing each other.

After excruciating pleasantries about 'strengthening ties' and 'shared history,' Qiao Ba gestured sharply. Two figures slumped to their knees—yesterday's car vandals, now ash-faced and trembling.

"My people dared disrespect your protégé?" Qiao Ba's chuckle held glass-sharp edges. "Dispose of them as you see fit."

Zhang Wu tutted with mock humility. "Eighth Brother flatters me. What's a little bullying between friends?" His smile widened as Qiao Ba's eye twitched involuntarily. "But since you've delivered these... gifts..."

The kneeling youths whimpered, foreheads touching marble.

Zhang Wu feigned shock, palms raised in protest. "Eighth Brother, such formalities? A minor misunderstanding!" He turned to Huo Xuan with conspiratorial warmth. "Right, brother?"

"Absolutely trivial," Huo Xuan agreed, sipping tea with deceptive calm. "That's why I insisted those two keep the car."

"See?" Zhang Wu clapped Huo Xuan's shoulder like presenting a prized pupil. "My brother's generosity shames us all." His gaze dropped to the kneeling youths. "Drive it in good health. Eighth Brother's men are my men."

Qiao Ba's eye twitched at the verbal trap. A sharp nod sent his swarthy lieutenant forward with a steel-reinforced briefcase. Hundred-yuan stacks gleamed under crystal chandeliers.

"Compensation for your inconvenience," the enforcer ground out, case angled toward Huo Xuan.

Huo Xuan didn't bother glancing down. "The car's worth six million at most. Your master overpays his apologies."

"State your terms," Qiao Ba interjected, knuckles whitening on armrests.

"Would I dare impose?" Huo Xuan's chuckle carried winter's edge.

Zhang Wu snapped fingers as if struck by inspiration. "Ah! Weren't you house-hunting near West Lake today?"

The gambit unfolded like rehearsed theater. Qiao Ba's forced smile revealed molar fillings. "Remarkable timing! I've vacant property - five floors, river view. Consider it restitution."

"Eighth Brother's too kind!" Zhang Wu waved dismissively. "But my brother's eye favors villas in the 70-80 million range. We couldn't possibly..."

Qiao Ba's carotid pulsed like threatened viper. "The Lakeside Manor happens to match that description." Each syllable cost him blood.

Huo Xuan accepted with feigned gratitude. "Eighth Lord's generosity humbles me."

Below them, the kneeling youths trembled - not from fear of beatings, but the mathematical certainty that 80 million yuan's debt would be extracted from their flesh, bone, and unborn children's labor.