Chapter 23: Yanshui Town

I touched my face and laughed, “Did I become more handsome?”

“You’ve become... darker. You always had secrets, but now you make me feel really oppressed,” Ye Cheng replied.

His words startled me. Was it that obvious?

“We’re brothers. You wouldn’t come to me for nothing. Speak up,” Ye Cheng said seriously, looking at me.

I forced a bitter smile. “Beauty, you really do know me best. I need your help with two things. You have connections in Wushan—do you know anyone in the police? I need to check someone’s identity.”

Ye Cheng’s family was well-known in Wushan. The Yunmei Hospital belonged to them, and rumor had it they also ran a chain of hotels.

“My uncle works in the criminal police squad. Shouldn’t be a problem,” Ye Cheng replied.

I sent Ye Cheng the screenshot of the buzz-cut woman from my phone. “This woman.”

“Oh, she’s quite something. But she’s not your type, is she? Changing tastes?” Ye Cheng looked at the image and grinned.

“Not exactly... And another thing, do you know the Zhang family?” I asked.

“The Zhang family? From Yanshui Town?” Ye Cheng’s expression turned serious.

“That’s right.” I nodded.

“The Zhangs are rooted deep in Wushan—forget just Yanshui Town, they’re almost untouchable in the city too. Why are you asking about them? Don’t do anything reckless.” Ye Cheng pressed my shoulder, visibly tense.

I smiled. “I won't do anything foolish. Just want to understand a bit.”

Ye Cheng stared into my eyes for a long time, then sighed. “Alright, since you want to know, I’ll tell you what I know.”

Listening to Ye Cheng, I realized the Zhang family’s influence in Wushan was beyond my imagination—like local royalty.

They had been entrenched in Wushan for centuries, once a family of officials. After falling during the warlord chaos a century ago, eighty years ago, when the great leader of Hua was unifying the nation, the Zhang patriarch didn’t just sell family assets to support him, but also seized a hidden warlord base in the mountains. That’s how they soared again.

The Zhangs had representatives in both government and business circles in Wushan. Even parachuted-in mayors and party secretaries would be powerless without their backing—mere puppets.

There were rumors someone once tried to shake the Zhang family’s foundation with force, and died suddenly the next day.

Now, the old patriarch Zhang Xiao was in his nineties, living in the ancestral home in Zhangjia Village, Yanshui Town.

He had four sons. The eldest, Zhang Guang, was chairman of the Linjiang Zhang Group, which went bankrupt and returned to Wushan, now serving as president of the Wushan Chamber of Commerce.

The other sons: one was a city government director, one a town mayor in Yanshui, and one was a fixture in Wushan’s underworld.

This powerful family controlled Wushan from every angle. Not everyone, but most had to live under their shadow.

After hearing all this, I sighed inwardly—the Zhang family’s power here far exceeded my expectations.

But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t here to openly challenge them, only to investigate that vengeful ghost.

Just then, a nurse hurried over, saying a patient’s water had broken and Ye Cheng was urgently needed in surgery.

“Madman, I’ve got to go. Let’s have dinner tonight—call me,” Ye Cheng said, rushing inside.

I wandered Wushan all afternoon and received Ye Cheng’s call in the evening.

Ye Cheng brought me to a street lined with food stalls, entering a small barbecue shop called “Green Grill.”

“Brother Cheng, you’re here! Please, come in,” greeted a girl in an apron with twin braids, about eighteen or nineteen, lively and warm.

We went into a small private room, where the charcoal stove was blazing.

“Beauty, you’re a second-generation rich kid and you bring me to a street stall? Are you into the girl here?” I teased, seeing the way he looked at her.

Ye Cheng glared at me, anxious. “If you dare call me by my nickname in front of Qingqing, I’ll be furious.”

“OK, OK, I won’t say a word.” I raised my hand in surrender.

Ye Cheng said proudly, “Don’t look down on this barbecue stall—the flavor is amazing. The place is always full. This private room was only reserved because I called ahead.”

Soon, Qingqing brought over piles of ingredients, some grilled, others marinated and ready for us to cook ourselves.

“Come on, have a couple skewers of pork kidney to replenish yourself. You look a bit weak. Young men need to pace themselves.” Ye Cheng handed me two skewers, grinning.

I took them and shrugged, “I’m healthy as can be, seven times a night is nothing.”

Truth be told, my body was weak lately—thanks to losing two pounds of blood.

Ye Cheng and I joked around, drank two bottles of beer to warm up.

“I found the woman you wanted info on. I sent it to your phone,” Ye Cheng said.

I checked my phone: the buzz-cut woman was named Guli Jinsha, from Anshi City, Xiliang Province, nineteen years old, dropped out after high school. Nothing else stood out.

Xiliang Province was over a thousand kilometers from Beichuan, on the western frontier of Hua. No wonder she had that exotic look.

“Madman, Xiliang is fierce country. Women there draw knives when angry. Her surname, Guli, is from the Xiliang Yue clan—a matriarchal people. Be careful.” Ye Cheng laughed.

I chuckled and changed the subject, chatting about amusing hospital stories.

We ate until one in the morning, finishing a case and a half of beer and two bottles of spirits.

Ye Cheng was tipsy, barely able to walk.

Only us remained in the shop. Qingqing, the girl, was dozing at a table.

“Qingqing, I... I have to go. This guy, I’ll leave him to you... Bye...” I pushed Ye Cheng into her arms and staggered out, ignoring her calls.

Outside, I saw fine snow falling from the sky.

I reached out and caught a few flakes, glanced back, and murmured, “Beauty, brother, this is all I can do for you.”

Early next morning, I texted Ye Cheng that I had errands and would meet up later, then drove with Zhang Ru Yue to Yanshui Town.

The mountain road to Yanshui was even rougher, made worse by falling snow. It took two bumpy hours to arrive.

Zhang Ru Yue gazed at Yanshui Town with a complicated look. Just two streets, little changed in twelve years—most places still familiar.

“Park at Yanshui Middle School ahead,” she suddenly said.

“You’re not coming with me?” I asked.

Zhang Ru Yue shook her head. “I have my own business. Do what you need to do.”

I was speechless—felt like we’d agreed to share a bed, only to be stood up.

Zhangjia Village was up the western mountain from Yanshui, accessible only by a small path. Cars couldn’t reach it.

I wasn’t planning to visit the Zhangs yet, maybe later at night.

But before evening, something troubling happened—I realized someone was watching me.

Too inexperienced. In a place like Yanshui Town, outsiders are rare, and my out-of-town Mercedes was conspicuous.

Yanshui was the Zhang family’s stronghold. If they suspected me... Cold sweat broke out as my mind raced for a solution.

Here, I found myself at the town market. It wasn’t market day, but plenty of people were selling goods.

Suddenly inspired, I parked, grabbed a cardboard sign, and placed it on the Mercedes’s roof, boldly marked: Buying Mountain Goods.

Wushan, built in the mountains, often saw outsiders come to buy mountain produce—especially in winter, when prices soared.

“Boss, buying mountain goods? Why not go to Shishan Town?” A middle-aged man approached, speaking in the local accent.

One look, and I knew he’d seen blood. I took out a pack of Dragon Ascend cigarettes, tossed him one. “Brother, everyone else buys in Shishan, so I’m doing the opposite—checking out Yanshui.”

He took the cigarette, sniffed it greedily. “Soft Dragon Ascend, a hundred a pack.”

I lit his cigarette, then mine, “Brother, got connections?”

He inhaled deeply, savoring. “You’re not from around here, so you probably don’t know—only the Zhangs and their permitted people can handle mountain goods in Yanshui. You’ll have trouble buying, but...”

He glanced meaningfully at my pack.

I chuckled, handed him the cigarettes, and whispered, “Brother, if you have a connection, let me know. You won’t lose out.”

Seeing I knew how things worked, he said mysteriously, “I’ll introduce you to someone from the Zhang family—a direct great-grandson of Old Master Zhang. I’ll just make the connection; you give me a thousand.”

I was intrigued. Buying mountain goods was just a cover, but now I’d have a link to the Zhangs. A thousand was nothing.

He led me to a two-story building labeled Yanshui Town Seed Company.

Upstairs, in the ‘General Manager’s Office’, was a young man with a cigar, one arm around a mature, voluptuous woman, the other holding a phone, angrily shouting.

“Damn it, put another hundred bets on number 075. This time I’ll win!”

“What? No money left? Damn!”

He slammed the phone down, saw us, and snapped, “Liu Fulai, what the hell are you barging in for?”

“Master Lei, don’t be angry. I brought someone to discuss a deal,” the middle-aged man said, smiling obsequiously, whispering in the young man’s ear.

The young man glanced at me, his eyes lingering on my watch—a gift from Xu Baoguo, no idea what it was worth, but certainly not cheap.

“Boss Qin, is it? I’m Zhang Lei. Heard you want to buy mountain goods? How much do you need?” Zhang Lei pushed away the woman in his arms. Though he tried to hide it, I could see the urgency in his eyes.