Chapter 148: The Death of Fatty Fan

Sharp sirens abruptly tore through the night.

Footsteps soon rose from all directions…

In no time, many capped patrol officers converged from every side.

Worthy of the prosperous eastern city—the police department showed such efficiency even in the dead of night.

If this were the southern city, a rotting corpse might go unnoticed.

Neon lights flickered afar, their intermittent glow sweeping across Xiangzi’s no-longer-swarthy face.

Xiangzi slowly withdrew his gaze,

Then kicked the curled-up, shivering Fatty Fan.

“Hey, stop playing dead.”

Fatty Fan’s eyelids just fluttered open when his body began trembling, cold sweat pouring forth.

Sweat slid from his forehead along his hair, vanishing into endless darkness.

Fatty Fan’s greasy face flushed red from reversed qi and blood.

He wasn’t faking death.

Anyone hung upside-down from a towering bell tower would look the same.

Whooshing cold wind scraped by…

Fatty Fan’s hairs stood on end—he never imagined that lowly rickshaw head would reappear before him in such a terrifying way.

Even less did he expect…

That someone in this world could casually climb up here?

Heavens… is this still human?

—

Atop the bell tower,

A mere palm-sized space.

Xiangzi’s burly frame stood lightly upon it.

Fatty Fan dangled beneath his feet like a sloth, bound by a thin rope.

In the thick night, no one would imagine…

Anyone up here.

Aside from the massive floating dock, this was Forty-Nine City’s highest point.

Xiangzi’s sight even faintly caught the illuminated palace in the central city—per the quadrilateral treaty years ago, Great Shun’s last emperor would end his days there.

The bell tower stood diagonally across from Four Seas Gambling House.

Built when the imperial flag fell, by Forty-Nine City’s former governor—later Marshal Cao—to celebrate the republic’s founding.

Now, Xiangzi had tied Fatty Fan to the tower’s very top—the upright flagpole.

Vast vista, gentle night, locust flowers fragrant.

For a moment, Xiangzi felt refreshed.

Only the pig-like howls below somewhat spoiled the mood.

Xiangzi kicked again: “Stop yelling… at this height, scream your throat raw and no one hears.”

“Of course… if I get annoyed and my hand slips, your head won’t stay attached.”

Fatty Fan abruptly ceased, craning his neck to force a fawning smile: “Xiangzi… uh… Master Xiang, Master Xiang, whatever you want, I’ll do… spare my life, please?”

Xiangzi smiled, patted lightly—the short spear slid from the rattan case on his back.

The case had been placed here long ago.

Tonight’s plan: use Xu Bin to lure the gambling-addicted Fatty Fan.

Perhaps Fatty Fan had grown too arrogant lately; even Xiangzi hadn’t expected such smooth progress—

Except for that enchanting woman earlier.

Xiangzi fell silent a moment. With those strangely piercing eyes, his gaze cut through heavy night to the gambling house entrance.

Suddenly, his expression shifted.

At Four Seas Gambling House’s door, a woman chatted gracefully with several officers.

Her face showed little fear; the casino staff stood uniformly behind her—her identity obvious.

Xiangzi wore a peculiar smile—truly, flood rushes the Dragon King Temple.

This woman must be Jiang Wangshui’s elder sister, now the proprietress controlling all of Four Seas Gambling House.

—

Below the bell tower, the clock’s “tick-tock” rang clear.

Unable to endure the death-like torment, Fatty Fan suddenly wailed: “Master Xiang, I, Fatty Fan, was just following orders.”

“It was the Li family—all the Li family! That young master Li planned everything—he killed those from Harmony Rickshaw Yard, he killed Fourth Master Liu!”

Fatty Fan was quick-witted; in short time, he grasped why Xiangzi targeted him.

Xiangzi smiled, pressing the short spear to Fatty Fan’s throat.

The icy touch froze Fatty Fan’s heart.

“Keep talking—little master loves these schemes.”

Fatty Fan swallowed, cheeks sagging into lumps from inversion, voice hurried and muffled.

Thus, amid Fatty Fan’s rambling, Xiangzi finally pieced together the events at the Li family mines.

The story was simple, bloody.

Just an ambitious young patriarch climbing ruthlessly.

The lives of Harmony Rickshaw Yard’s pullers never mattered to that Young Master Li.

He wanted only the mining routes.

Facts proved ruthlessness worked— Young Master Li indeed seized both Harmony and Ma Liu yards.

Now Li influence reached the eastern city!

What grand ambitions, Young Master Li.

“Master Xiang, spare me, spare Fatty Fan—I’ll be your inside man, find dirt on Li—on that Li dog.”

“That bastard… dares smuggle five-colored ore to the Three Lands and Nine Strongholds!”

“Not just that… the Li family has people controlling these routes, big plans, huge plans… but I don’t know exactly what.”

“Give me time—I’ll get evidence for Master Xiang. With proof, not just him—the whole Li family is done.”

“Master Xiang, spare me—I’ll be your dog, fetch Li evidence!”

Xiangzi smiled, slapping the gun: “Refreshing! Little master likes your straightforwardness! No beating around—I want Harmony Rickshaw Yard’s ledgers.”

“The mining ledgers!”

Fatty Fan’s pupils contracted sharply—why does that sound familiar?

But seeing Xiangzi’s face, the fat man wailed: “The old ledger was with Girl Hu—she fled in the chaos the night Fourth Master Liu died; no one knows where.”

“After that, that Li dog grew cautious—never let me near the books again!”

Xiangzi smiled helplessly—so this fat man was just a scapegoat?

Wrist twisting, the short spear traced a smooth arc through the night.

“No—”

A shrill scream cut off as his throat shattered.

The gun tip severed the rope binding Fatty Fan’s wrists.

Whooshing wind—

Fatty Fan’s obese body plummeted into ink-thick night.

Splat.

At Four Seas Gambling House’s door, a pile of meat paste fell from the sky.

—

Xiangzi descended the bell tower.

Exiting the alley, he met a handsome face—now paper-white.

“Master… Master Xiang, I’ve arranged a rest inn for you,” Xu Bin cupped hands, voice betrayingly calm.

Xiangzi smiled: “Trouble for Young Master Xu. Tomorrow will keep you busy.”

Hearing this, Xu Bin’s smile turned uglier than tears.

He understood—having personally invited Fatty Fan, all Forty-Nine City eyes would turn to him.

Fatty Fan dead—this slapped the Li family’s face!

He felt wronged—this audacious master, capable of killing Fatty Fan in heavily guarded Four Seas Gambling House, why force him to lure the man?

Even more wronged: Xu Bin knew the real reason—this master wanted him stained with Fatty Fan’s blood too.

“Young Master Xu, now we’re friends.”

“If Detai Rickshaw Yard needs anything, one word—if I, Xiangzi, can help, I won’t refuse.”

Xu Bin paused, then joy bloomed within!

Lose one Fatty Fan? Offend the Li family? So what?

As if not offending them would spare Detai Rickshaw Yard?

“Where does Master Xiang put it—if one day Detai could invite you as guest martial artist, that’d be three lifetimes of fortune for me, Xu Bin.” Xu Bin smiled obsequiously, eyes lowered toward Xiangzi.

Xiangzi pondered, didn’t refuse, said slowly: “Now I’m assigned to western suburb Feng Family Village—rules forbid dual postings… when I return from there, I’ll discuss with the martial hall.”

Xu Bin’s heart leaped with mad joy—a casual probe, and this master truly considered it?

With a Baolin Martial Hall disciple who grasped Bright Force upon ninth-rank entry, Detai’s little plot would be secure!

But then his expression stilled: Feng Family Village?

“Master Xiang, for Feng Family Village… perhaps I can lend small aid.”

Xiangzi paused.

Xu Bin gave an awkward laugh before speaking: “You know, with Fatty Fan pressing hard… Detai had to find a backup.”

“Though Feng Family Village is strong, they lack hands. Old Village Head Feng and my grandfather have long ties—back and forth, they approached us.”

Xiangzi’s brows furrowed.

Feng Family Village needs hands? Rickshaw pullers?

Transport what?

Only demonic beast meat.

But that’s dock work for Clear Gang—how dare Feng Family Village reach for it?

It seemed this errand would indeed be tricky.

Suddenly, shrill sirens wailed afar.

“Master Xiang…” Xu Bin laughed awkwardly. “I dare not stray far—Fatty Fan dead, police eyes are on us.”

He pulled copper keys from his robes: “Detai Inn, room 502—I just arranged it. Though under Detai’s name, it’s really run by a staff officer of the marshal’s mansion—no one dares inspect.”

At this, Xu Bin fell silent—with this master’s current backing, who would dare check his identity?

Xiangzi nodded, stepped from the alley.

Chilly wind rushed in.

Neon flickered, light and shadow on his calm face.

Leaving Renshou Street, Xiangzi glanced back at the gambling house door’s meat paste, unconsciously brushing his rattan case.

He suddenly recalled passing this casino—Uncle Jie had earnestly warned: Never enter these gold-melting dens.

If Uncle Jie knew he came here, he’d likely leap from his coffin, grab the spear, and thrash him like old times.

But Uncle Jie lay in that Li mine pit—no coffin.

Xiangzi tilted his head, gazing at the cold crescent moon on the horizon.

Uncle Jie, don’t rush. Xiangzi is coming to see you soon.

To the Li family. To see you.