“Zhang the Skinny’s dead?”

Wen San jolted, leaning in eagerly to listen.

The speaker, recognizing Wen San, launched into a vivid account of Zhang’s death, leaving Wen San stunned.

“Good grief, a martial artist who broke the Vitality Barrier, taken out like a stray cat?”

Wen San clicked his tongue, turning to Xiangzi. “We’re all hoping to break the Vitality Barrier and make something of ourselves, but even those who do end up like this.”

The man scoffed. “Hey, Wen San, don’t talk big! Word at Ma Liu Yard is it might’ve been a Ninth-Rank Bone-Forging martial artist!”

“What?” Wen San’s voice shot up. “A ranked martial artist? Who’d Zhang cross to get that kind of enemy?”

The man shook his head, tossing a peanut in his mouth with a grin. “Who knows? Zhang was always cocky. God knows which immortal he offended!”

Wen San smacked his lips, shaking his head, then saw Xiangzi’s amused smile.

Xiangzi raised his cup, clinking it with Wen San’s.

Killing Zhang had worried him—how to cover it up?—but the rumor had grown legs, even conjuring a Ninth-Rank martial artist.

Perfect. For now, no one would suspect him.

With Ma Liu Yard losing a key man, they’d be paranoid, less focused on him.

Who’d guess a month of stance training let him take down a Vitality Barrier martial artist?

Now, his only trouble was the mine route.

Buoyed by the liquor, Xiangzi mentally reviewed the day’s mine run.

It went smoothly, thanks to Liu Tang’s presence.

But Liu Tang, busy and a martial fanatic, couldn’t babysit the route daily.

The road was fraught—surging refugees, perilous mine zones, and scheming pullers.

Jin Fugui had been sullen all day, his lackey Skinny Monkey practically advertising a belly full of bad intentions.

Even Liu Hu, once friendly, seemed a different man today.

Harmony’s power vortex could swallow him any day.

Xiangzi touched the smooth bone in his pocket.

In this treacherous world, survival demands a hard fist.

After eating with Wen San, dusk had settled.

Most of the Lotus White went into Wen San’s belly.

Three rounds in, his face red as a monkey’s rear, he grabbed Xiangzi’s hand, pounding his chest, vowing to protect him even at the cost of his life.

The laborers around chuckled.

A second-class puller, not even past the Vitality Barrier, talking so big?

Xiangzi, knowing his nature, didn’t take it to heart, just helped Wen San back to the yard.

Dumping him on the second-class communal bunk, Xiangzi returned to the east building, trained stance work for half an hour, changed without bathing, and left braised beef for Uncle Jie in the training room.

Then he headed to the front yard.

Checking accounts with Fourth Master couldn’t wait.

Entering, Xiangzi gave a brief report of the day.

Fourth Master, as usual, lounged in his grand chair, eyes barely open. “Good work, Xiangzi.”

After Xiangzi and Girl Hu balanced the books, Fourth Master tapped the sandalwood table, smiling. “Xiangzi, for you.”

On the table was a tightly wrapped kraft paper parcel, its potent medicinal scent piercing.

Xiangzi froze.

“Top-grade vitality tonic—not the common stuff, but what martial hall disciples use,” Fourth Master said casually, his tiger eyes fixed on Xiangzi.

Girl Hu, picking at her foot on the kang, chimed in, “Dumb kid, thank Fourth Master! That’s thirty silver dollars’ worth.”

Xiangzi snapped to, pocketing the tonic with profuse thanks.

Clearly, word of the mine run had reached Fourth Master.

This costly tonic was both a reward and a lure.

As Xiangzi left, only Fourth Master and Girl Hu remained in the flickering candlelight.

Girl Hu closed the ledger, glancing at her father. “Old man, this big lug seems dim but handles things well.”

Fourth Master’s lips curved into a smile.

Harmony had been stagnant for years, each adopted son ruling his own turf.

He’d thought this would last until his death, but Xiangzi, an unassuming pawn, had stirred the waters.

“What’s the police saying?” Fourth Master asked slowly.

Girl Hu yawned. “Put your mind at ease, old man. They’re itching for us to clash with Ma Liu. Whoever wins or loses, they pick up the scraps.”

Thinking of those cunning officers, Fourth Master grunted, then asked, “And the embassy district?”

Girl Hu’s face grew serious. “Met their manager yesterday. He said he only cares about the mine route, nothing else.”

Hearing this, Fourth Master’s heart eased.

His hold on Qingfeng Street rested on his embassy district connection.

At Harmony, only he and Girl Hu could tap that line.

With that assurance, his last hesitation vanished.

“Old man, when do we move?” Girl Hu’s dark face flashed with ruthlessness.

Fourth Master puffed his pipe, speaking slowly after a long pause. “No rush. With Xiangzi as lead puller, the anxious ones aren’t us!”

Seizing Ma Liu Yard’s turf had been his plan for years.

He’d waited this long—what was a little longer?

When Old Ma Liu was alive, he was flawless, leaving no openings.

But Old Ma Liu died first.

Young Ma Liu, impatient, had planted spies in Harmony within years of taking over—did that kid think I’m blind?

The mine route’s tricks were clearer to him than anyone.

A sharp glint burst from Fourth Master’s tiger eyes.

In the copper pipe’s flickering glow, his wrinkled face loomed.

“No rush, Hu Girl,” he said, squinting. “One last lesson: act with care. The yard’s hundred souls will depend on you.”

Girl Hu froze, her dark face lowering.

In the candlelight’s shadow, she hid her eager, burning gaze.

After all these years, she’d finally heard those words.

Her father, after raising so many adopted sons, had decided.

The yard would be hers.