Chapter 149: Danger Approaching

Spilt water is hard to gather back, but sometimes the difficulty does not lie in the gathering itself; rather, it stems from the heartache. Those who are in pain do not wish to linger. Even with the blizzard raging and the biting cold chilling them to the bone, nothing can halt their departing steps.

As the piercing winter wind once again whipped up a flurry of white flakes, Zhang Xiaoman, with a pained expression, fished out the bank card Nie Yi had entrusted to his care and swiftly swiped it across the card reader held by Longgong Nanning. Without a moment's hesitation, he turned and strode away into the driving snow.

Longgong Nanning gazed at Zhang Xiaoman's retreating figure without making an attempt to stop him. At that moment, a profound sorrow washed over him. Accepting this sum of money from Zhang Xiaoman meant that Sima Bei truly belonged to the past. Since ancient times, disciples had been known to take on apprentices on behalf of their masters, but a master accepting apprentices in place of a disciple was virtually unheard of.

Past events flashed vividly before his eyes: taking in an apprentice by the East Lake, drinking together under the moonlight, bidding farewell at a restaurant. In the blink of an eye, decades had passed, and upon their next meeting, it was his youngest disciple who had turned to dust first. He could never comprehend how his youngest disciple—who was so timid, so adept at playing dumb, and so deathly afraid of pain—could have been driven to such a desperate plight that he took up a blade and plunged it into his own heart. At this moment, his own heart ached inexplicably, sharing the exact same agony.

He used to think he was the wind—free, unrestrained, and drifting everywhere. Only now did he realize he was merely a blade of grass; the moment he accepted the boy named Sima Bei as his disciple, his roots had inextricably anchored themselves to the other. The greatest difference between a disciple and a daughter was that a disciple was more like another version of oneself. Now, that other self of his had scattered with the wind.

There is no greater despair than a dead heart. When people are at their most sorrowful, they do not cry out; they simply wear no expression at all.

Just as Longgong Nanning stared blankly at the frost-covered reeds dancing in the snow, a large goose waddled out from the depths of the reeds, shaking its head. An old man wearing a straw hat took a puff from his long-stemmed pipe, the glowing red ember of tobacco standing out strikingly against the pure white world, and slowly exhaled a ring of smoke. "Wasn't it Zhang Xiaoman who got scammed? Why are you taking it so hard?"

Longgong Nanning used his index finger to wipe away a stray tear at the corner of his eye, his voice low. "Once I take this money, I can no longer interfere in Sima Bei's affairs, and I'll have to play the drudge for a while, helping someone else train an apprentice. Tell me, do I have a right to be upset?"

"That is pretty upsetting," the old man in the straw hat flicked the ash from his pipe, glancing sideways. "Would you like me to go vent your anger for him? Never mind just one big shot in Lvteng City, I could handle ten of them nice and proper. My old blade hasn't lost its edge yet."

"I reckon you just want to vent some frustration for Shen Yixia, don't you?" Longgong Nanning curled his lip. "Forget it, we're at this age now; why make a fuss? Let's just see how Zhang Xiaoman wraps this up." Suddenly recalling something, he glared at the old man. "Why did you scurry back out so fast? I just told him the wind blew you away. If Zhang Xiaoman suddenly ran back, wouldn't our cover be blown?"

"Rest assured, he's feeling worse than you right now. Such a miserly fellow, shelling out forty thousand two hundred and sixty-eight all at once—it practically cost him half his life..." The old man waved a hand dismissively. "Besides, even if he does suddenly run back, you can just tell him the wind blew me back again."

Longgong Nanning stroked his beard. "Makes sense, makes sense. The grass bends whichever way the wind blows..." Stretching lazily, he said, "Let's go. We've made some money after all; let's live it up a little first—soak in a hot spring, have a little hot pot, and wait for that chatterbox to come seeking us out..."

The old man in the straw hat put away his pipe, blinked, and said, "It won't be that fast. That chatterbox will probably cry and make a fuss for a while; he's hardly willing to leave his sweetheart behind."

"Just watch, that chatterbox will surely come looking for us tonight," Longgong Nanning said, putting his hands behind his back and strolling leisurely toward the depths of the reed marsh. "Since ancient times, romantic people are left with empty regrets. Tonight, there will be one more heartbroken soul..."

"Tonight?"

Huang Xiaoxia stared at Zhang Xiaoman, who came running back at full tilt, and asked in bafflement, "In such a rush?"

"Strike while the iron is hot," Zhang Xiaoman rubbed his frost-numbed cheeks, chuckling. "Lest that old fogey suddenly goes back on his word. The tuition is already paid, so naturally, I need to enroll him right away."

Nie Yi's ears twitched slightly, a premonition of bad luck rising in his heart. Biting his lip, he asked, "Master, how much was the tuition?"

"Forty thousand two hundred and sixty-eight!" Zhang Xiaoman pointed excitedly at the large goose in his arms. "Absolute bargain! And it comes with a big, fat goose as a bonus!"

"Master..." Nie Yi's mouth twitched. "You didn't swipe the bank card I gave you, did you?"

"Whose and yours? We're all family..." Zhang Xiaoman rubbed his nose. "Besides, this money was paid on Li Jun's behalf, so it's essentially spent on yourselves."

"As long as it wasn't our money spent..." Huang Xiaoxia's eyes gleamed as she stared at the goose in Zhang Xiaoman's arms, licking her lips. "This big goose came at just the right time. Tonight, I'll cook you a pot-braised goose that is guaranteed to make your tongue fall off."

Nie Yi's expression looked as unpleasant as if he had swallowed a dead fly. He muttered, "Forty thousand two hundred and sixty-eight... How many geese would that buy? To get scammed and still be this happy—his brain really must be broken!"

Zhang Xiaoman glared at Nie Yi. "I'm not deaf; I heard every word..." Clearing his throat, he said, "Nie Yi, you can't just look at the surface of things. Take a long-term view; don't let excessive complaining break your heart. Think about it: that old fogey is already ninety-nine and doesn't have many years left. When the time comes and he kicks the bucket, won't everything he owns belong to Li Jun anyway? This wealth flowing around will eventually find its way back to our own fields..."

"Spare me the snake oil," Nie Yi pouted. "According to inheritance law, in the absence of a will, the first priority goes to his daughter and wife, followed by close relatives within three generations. If there are no relatives to speak of, it would finally fall to his deceased disciple, Sima Bei. But Sima Bei is already dead, so it passes down. If Shen Yixia were still alive, it would be Shen Yixia's. Now that Shen Yixia is dead too, it would barely trickle down to Li Jun, this half-disciple. Aunt Luhong on that first tier would have already intercepted it and wouldn't leave a single hair for Li Jun."

Zhang Xiaoman coughed heavily a few times. "Wealth is merely external possessions; there's no need to take it so heavily. Knowledge is priceless! As the saying goes, 'Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.' If Li Jun can genuinely learn a thing or two from that old fogey, those forty-odd thousand weren't spent in vain!"

"Not spent in vain!" Huang Xiaoxia abruptly chimed in. "This deal of ours is a genuine profit!"

Zhang Xiaoman and Nie Yi both looked at Huang Xiaoxia in puzzlement, speaking in unison, "Where is the profit?"

Huang Xiaoxia snatched the big goose from Zhang Xiaoman's arms, fumbled around beneath its wings for a moment, pulled out a slip of paper, and pointed to the small characters written on it. "That stingy old codger is quite righteous. Knowing your brain condition has worsened, he pointed out a path to survival for you!"

Zhang Xiaoman looked closely and saw an address scrawled crookedly on the paper. On the back were four characters: "Illness must be treated." He let out a long sigh, looking toward the depths of the reed marsh with deep gratitude. "We did make a fortune... but our debt of gratitude has grown even deeper..."

"It's not a debt..." Huang Xiaoxia said with great emotional intensity. "This is justice—the justice that good people are rewarded. You've solved so many cases and caught so many bad people in your life; it's only right that you find a way out of a desperate situation! Xiaoman, let's go to this address right now. Like you said, strike while the iron is hot!"

"No rush, no rush," Zhang Xiaoman shook his head. "I can't leave just yet. Since that old fogey gave me justice, I must return an even greater justice to him. His disciple, his disciple's disciple—two human lives, plus Blondie, along with the four corpses lying in the public security bureau—I need to help them all seek justice and settle the final accounts!"

Nie Yi immediately understood, twisted the key to start the engine, and said with high spirits, "Master, where to next?"

"Naturally, back to City A," Zhang Xiaoman rested his hands behind his head, acting entirely at ease. "First, let's stew this goose, pack up a small portion, and you two can start preparing your mistress's birthday banquet. I'll take the wine and food and go find someone..."

Nie Yi nodded in acknowledgment, swiftly shifted gears, pressed down hard on the accelerator, and released the handbrake. The car lunged forward, speeding away amidst the wind and snow.

As Zhang Xiaoman and his companions hurried toward City A through the swirling snow, another luxury white sedan was also speeding along the highway from Lvteng City to City A. A man dressed in an expensive suit held the steering wheel with one hand and a phone with the other, his expression gloomy. "You must find those two people. They are gifts I prepared for Jinyue, and taking them without a word shows a complete lack of thief-morals. Dead or alive, I want them!"

Yang Wei's loud acknowledgment came through the phone. "Understood! It's just that my gang of brothers are still locked up in the bureau; I'm afraid I can't handle those two blockheads all by myself! Do we have any outside help?"

"Jinyue has already sent that Wang Chao to the hospital ahead of time. You just need to stand by and refuse to rescue him at the appropriate moment..."

"Isn't this just the old plan from before? Bluffing, refusing to lend a hand, murder and arson?"

"It's different. Before, it was targeted at Zhang Xiaoman; now the target has changed... And when necessary, add slaughtering the donkey the moment it's done grinding corn!"

"Kill him! Anyone who dares to have a fling with the future sister-in-law must have all three of his legs severed!"

"The masquerade ball is in a few days; our engagement will be announced that night... Don't drag this out too long. I want Jinyue to willingly and wholeheartedly marry me..."

"Rest assured, I'll definitely make her completely devoted! Though I must say something, whether I ought to or not... Jinyue isn't some fairy descended to earth. With your status, you could have any woman you want; why bother with such a secondhand—no, should be third-hand by now—woman? Could it be that you're truly in love with her?"

"True love? Of course I love her!" A cold smile curled the corners of the expensive-suited man's mouth. "The more indifferent she is to me, the more I want to possess her! I know that old dog surnamed Chen deliberately orchestrated this match, but ever since I was a child, whatever I wanted to get, I've never failed to obtain. Once I marry her, I'll surely build her a magnificent golden cage so she can sleep inside it looking utterly radiant!"

"Understood! Just leave it to me, she won't fly out of your golden cage!" Lowering his head as he walked into the hospital lobby, Yang Wei hung up the phone. After making a brief inquiry at the nurse's station, just as he was about to head in the direction Wang Chao had previously taken, he caught a glimpse of Zhu Dachang dozing off in the lobby. A bizarre smile crept up the corner of his mouth, and he quietly seated himself on the bench directly behind Zhu Dachang...