Chapter 79 — Huang Renfeng
The teahouse was quiet.
But “quiet” didn’t mean empty. Behind Lord Bai Jiu stood guards on both sides, and flanking the room were rows of fully armed soldiers. Their rifles gleamed with a cold metallic light under the dim lamps.
Lord Bai Jiu sipped half a cup of tea, then lifted his gaze toward the man who had just entered.
The head of the Azure Dragon Society almost felt his legs give out the moment he stepped in. He was no longer the fierce, battle-hardened man of his youth—years of ease had made him soft. He tried hard to maintain composure as he came forward, saluted, and greeted Lord Bai Jiu.
Lord Bai Jiu rotated the teacup in his hand and asked, “You’re the head of the Azure Dragon Society?”
“I wouldn’t dare claim so. The brothers flatter me by calling me that,” the man replied, forcing a steady tone.
There was a commotion at the entrance. A few men in black carried in a stretcher. Lying on it was the seventh master, Li Defa. He had clearly fled in haste—his breathing was shallow and ragged, his face gray. As soon as they set the stretcher down, he broke into violent coughing fits.
The head gave him a meaningful look, signaling him to speak.
Li Defa’s face was bloodless; sweat rolled down his temples. He gritted his teeth and said hoarsely, “We brothers didn’t know that the martial performer from the troupe was under Lord Bai Jiu’s protection. We had offended them without knowing. I’ve already been gravely injured by him. A few days ago, I didn’t mean to seek revenge—just wanted to ask a few questions—”
Lord Bai Jiu set down his teacup and said evenly, “You’re not worthy.”
Veins bulged on Li Defa’s neck as he glared up at him.
The head kicked him viciously, nearly knocking him off the stretcher. “What kind of attitude is that? Didn’t I tell you on the way here? When you see Lord Bai Jiu, you apologize properly! Have you no manners?!” After scolding him, he turned and cupped his hands to Bai Rongjiu. “Lord Bai Jiu, my seventh brother is young and reckless. Please forgive his rashness.”
The seventh master lowered his head after that kick, but resentment seethed in his hidden eyes.
Lord Bai Jiu said, “There’s no need, Headman. I don’t think your seventh brother lacks manners—he simply has someone backing him and wants to play by his own rules. Things must be hard for you lately. Men like that… you probably have more than one.”
The head exchanged a few polite remarks, unable to discern Lord Bai Jiu’s meaning.
Just then, the sound of heavy boots echoed outside, followed by shouting. Soon, soldiers dragged a man inside. His right ankle was grotesquely twisted inward, his trouser leg soaked in blood, leaving a long red trail behind. Two soldiers threw him unceremoniously to the floor.
The head recognized him—his second brother—and was stunned. That man was usually a sly old fox, never taking a loss. To see him so brutalized was shocking. He hurried forward to help, but soldiers stopped him. Furious, he barked, “I’ve shown respect to the Bai family of the North out of courtesy! This was a small brawl between underlings—we’ve already apologized. Must you go so far? Is there no law left?”
A military officer strode in from behind, wearing a wool uniform with a sidearm and holding a polished black riding whip. “Do you even know where he was going?”
The head snapped, “No matter where, he shouldn’t be beaten like this!”
The officer’s expression was icy. “This man acted suspiciously. He left the residence and went straight to the Russian camp, firing two shots in the street and injuring bystanders. He was arrested outside the concession area. General Bai has ordered—anyone who collaborates with the enemy is to be captured and turned over for investigation.”
The man on the ground clutched his leader’s pant leg, pleading, “Big brother, save me! I only went to find someone—to see the consul! Even if you’re arresting me, you should have proof—”
Lord Bai Jiu spoke calmly from his seat. “Then let me ask—on the 29th of last month, why were the two train carriages of wine bound for Kuliki confiscated?”
The man froze. Sweat broke out across his forehead.
How did he know the exact carriages, and the seizure?
Of course—because someone had taken bribes and leaked the information to the Russians.
A small notebook was thrown at his feet. He glanced at the messy handwriting—lines of coded entries showing money received from Russians. The writing was disguised, hidden well, but the ledger had been kept in a secret place only he knew.
Lord Bai Jiu pressed a finger to his lips, coughing lightly. “You won’t speak? Then I’ll speak for you. The red ink marks the silver you took. The black ink marks the lives your men took. Isn’t that so?” His tone sharpened like a blade.
The second master’s lips trembled. Before he could defend himself, two bound men—his personal enforcers—were dragged in. At the sight of him, they began babbling incoherently.
He went pale. Those two were his most trusted killers.
Now that witnesses and evidence were both here, he could not utter a word. Cold sweat drenched his back. His crimes lay bare in the open, as if he’d been stripped naked before the world.
The head, seeing the ledger, flipped through it and his face turned from red to green. He threw it back at the man’s head with a curse, refusing to protect him further.
Lord Bai Jiu said mildly, “This wasn’t the work of one man or one day.”
On the stretcher, the seventh master’s eyes darted wildly, full of terror. He and the second master were both crippled—one coughing blood, the other with a shattered ankle. There was no escape.
Soon, the police chief arrived and took the Azure Dragon men into custody. Outside, their subordinates didn’t dare resist. They scattered like frightened birds.
Crowds had already gathered outside the teahouse since the arrest began, murmuring excitedly.
When the prisoners were paraded down the street toward the police station, it was like a public spectacle. The two “lords” who once terrorized Nanfang were finally brought low, causing a stir across the district.
“Did you hear? That’s someone from the Bai family!”
“The Bai family? Won’t that cause trouble in Nanfang now?”
“Not that Bai family—this one’s from the provincial capital! When that lord comes, even the governor’s soldiers take orders from him.”
“Then the Azure Dragon Society’s finished!”
“About time! Those bullies have run wild for years. Let them rot in prison!”
Inside, only the Azure Dragon’s head remained.
Lord Bai Jiu said, “Today’s events were necessary. General Bai despises traitors. If this weren’t the lawless district, they would’ve been executed on the spot.”
The head went white, tongue-tied.
Lord Bai Jiu continued, “Since you’ve lost two of your men, you deserve some compensation. I’ll lend you a few capable people—loyal men who’ll help you manage affairs.” A few men behind him stepped forward, bowing stiffly. Their faces were blank—obvious loyalists of Bai Rongjiu.
The head wanted to refuse, but dared not. “My place is small, can’t house so many heroes.”
Lord Bai Jiu smiled faintly. “You’ll get used to it.”
The tone left no room for argument.
After he left, the head remained standing, trembling. Then, realization dawned.
The Bai family lacked neither money nor power. The only thing they might want from the Azure Dragon Society was its vast network of carters and laborers—men who heard rumors faster than anyone. Lord Bai Jiu was after their intelligence web.
Those “assistants” weren’t compensation; they were a takeover force.
The head’s face drained of color. Whatever act he had tried to play, Bai Rongjiu had seen through it—or simply didn’t care. He was just a pawn—useful for now, but easily discarded.
He slumped to the floor, strength gone. The Azure Dragon Society was finished. Soon, it would belong to the Bai family.
The head’s earlier order had already gone out. Unaware of what had transpired, his men still delivered a “grand gift” to Lord Bai Jiu’s mansion.
They arrived with gongs and drums, carrying a bright red sedan chair, circling the courtyard before stopping at the back gate.
Xie Jing, upstairs, happened to see it all. Curious, he came down.
The steward was already scolding the visitors, but when he saw Xie Jing, he stepped aside. “Young Xie, no need to bother yourself. Just a few ruffians—I’ll drive them off.”
Xie Jing rolled his wrist. “I’ll take a look.”
The men in black bowed hastily to him, but their greetings were sloppy, even calling him “sir” in confusion.
Xie Jing asked, “Who are you? Why bring a sedan chair here?”
One replied proudly, “Our head sent a heavy gift to pay respects to Lord Bai Jiu.”
He lifted the curtain.
Inside sat a painted opera performer, thickly powdered and dressed in a splendid red costume. Even beneath the makeup, one could tell he was a man. His outfit glittered with jewels and tassels—indeed, a lavish “gift.”
Xie Jing frowned. “What is the meaning of this?”
The man grinned. “Our head says—since Lord Bai Jiu keeps a martial performer, why not add a dan (female-role actor) too? A perfect pair, like dragon and phoenix—”
Before he could finish, Xie Jing’s expression turned cold. He snatched a wooden bar from the door and smashed it against the sedan.
The performer screamed, ducked, and scrambled out, clutching his skirts as he fled.
The black-clad men froze. They dared not stop Xie Jing, but they couldn’t let the “gift” escape either. Their leader shouted and ran after him.
Xie Jing shattered the sedan to pieces, then flicked his wrist and said icily, “Tell your head this: if he dares another stunt like this, next time I’ll smash him.”
They nodded frantically and dragged the remains of the sedan away.
“Wait,” Xie Jing called.
He stepped forward, eyeing each man one by one. His gaze stopped on the last porter. “Raise your head.”
The man trembled.
“I said, raise your head!”
He lifted it reluctantly, stealing a glance before dropping his eyes again.
“…Huang Laizi?” Xie Jing said coolly.
The man feigned ignorance.
Xie Jing sneered. “No wild rabbit today? Fresh meat running out? Or do you want me to drag you into the alley to remind you what happened at that little tavern in the capital?”
The man’s smile froze. “Ah—young master jests. I didn’t recognize you at first, that’s all.”
“I’m taking him,” Xie Jing said.
The others exchanged baffled looks. They’d come to deliver a courtesan, and now this young lord wanted a bruiser instead. But they nodded quickly and left the man behind.
Gift delivered—mission complete.
Back in the mansion, the man immediately knelt to kowtow.
“Get up,” Xie Jing said, kicking his knee.
He stood, visibly anxious.
Xie Jing studied him. “Weren’t you in the provincial capital? What brings you to Nanfang?”
“Reporting truthfully, young master—I was with the Azure Dragon Gang, but got promoted to the Azure Dragon Society. This one’s bigger, stronger,” he said cautiously.
“Rising fast, aren’t you? Quite the talent,” Xie Jing said dryly.
The man blanched. “Young master, don’t mock me. I was blind before, I offended you—please forgive me! I’ll repay you in my next life, as a beast of burden if need be—”
“No need to wait for the next life,” Xie Jing interrupted coolly. “Start now.”
The man choked.
“Tell me how you climbed the ranks these past two years,” Xie Jing ordered.
He obeyed, spinning his tale—half-truth, half-fiction. When caught, he would falter, twist the story, and continue. But after several corrections, he ran out of lies.
Xie Jing rested his chin on one hand, amused. “Why stop?”
“Please, young master,” the man sighed miserably. “It was just dumb luck. I stumbled my way up to Nanfang.”
“You know feng shui? Fortune telling?”
He nodded. “My ancestors were geomancers. I know a little.”
Xie Jing’s eyes curved.
Now he remembered him. This man—Huang Laizi, real name Huang Renfeng—had once survived countless crises through pure luck and a silver tongue. Years ago in Shu province, he’d even become an “adviser,” leading digs for buried gold and antiques under the title Tomb-Inspecting Officer, raising funds for the army.
That had made headlines at the time.
Now, if the Azure Dragon Society hadn’t angered the Bai family, this same man might indeed have risen to become their so-called “military strategist.”
Suddenly Xie Jing said, “Huang Renfeng!”
The man’s head jerked up, startled—but his silence confirmed it.
Satisfied, Xie Jing pulled a small black stone tiger from his pocket and asked, “Have you seen this before?”
Huang Renfeng wiped his hands and examined it closely, frowning. “This stone… it’s from a riverbed.”
“Oh?” Xie Jing asked softly. “How can you tell?”
“Family training, sir. One glance tells me it’s been submerged for years, soaked in moisture. Strange piece though—never seen one like it. But I’m sure it’s not a burial artifact.” He turned the little tiger in his hands. “Old, but not ancient—no more than twenty years. Likely a child’s carving, made for fun.”
Xie Jing’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t notice a star chart on it?”
Huang Renfeng froze, looked again—blank confusion.
Xie Jing drummed his fingers on the table and recited slowly:
“Stone dragon faces stone tiger,
Gold and silver, ten thousand five.
He who breaks the riddle right,
Buys the Chengdu prefecture alive.”
Huang Renfeng’s face drained of color. His voice cracked as he gasped:
“The Silver-Seeking Verse!”
