Chapter 152: The Old Master

Time flew by, and two years passed in the blink of an eye.

Life in Zhu Kaishan’s household was peaceful and steady. Protected by Gao Ning's forces, they were unquestionably the most prominent family in Yuanbao Town.

Having no further worries, Zhang Shaolong gradually shifted his focus toward Han Xiuer. Especially after she suddenly gave birth to a son half a year ago, he sometimes felt as though he could no longer tell what was real and what was a dream.

Although Ye Zimei remained on high alert for her designated target, two consecutive years had passed without a single piece of news. She even began to wonder if her mission target had been assigned incorrectly.

Indeed, her target had stubbornly failed to appear throughout the entire period.

Given that hers was the sole assassination assignment, this twist seemed rather bizarre. As a transmigrator, accomplishing grand feats might be difficult, but concealing one's presence was remarkably simple. Anyone with even a shred of competence could easily survive until the end of days.

At first, Gao Ning had lent a hand in the search, but as time went on, he stopped paying much attention. The adversary on the other side was clearly an experienced individual, likely having secured and controlled the target long before.

Consequently, the original plotline—where a stray, smuggling Japanese person drifted into Zhu Kaishan's family—simply failed to happen.

With the two families failing to intersect, subsequent events naturally shifted accordingly.

Searching for a Japanese person in a vast sea of humanity was no different than looking for a needle in a haystack. Even with Gao Ning's capabilities, the person remained unfound.

However, since the return penalty protocol had not been triggered, the storyline clearly had to continue unfolding.

Over these past two years, Gao Ning’s sphere of influence had expanded rapidly. By this time, the Black Mountain Bandit army had grown to nearly one hundred thousand troops, scattered across various strategic locations throughout the region.

The summoned bandits had all been placed as frontline and junior officers, serving as a firm grip to tightly control the troops.

Over the past two years, silver had been generously distributed, and Gao Ning’s official titles had skyrocketed as if inflated by air, changing his rank and official hat almost every few months.

Aside from his growing territory and the increasing size of the army under his command, Gao Ning had long lost interest in keeping track of his exact official titles a year ago.

On the surface, Guo Songling might still hold a sliver of authority over him, but in the shadows, Gao Ning could mobilize his massive army at any moment to seize the entire three northeastern provinces—provided he chose not to clash with the Kwantung Army just yet.

***

Harbin.

On the bustling Rehe Street, the much-anticipated Shandong Teahouse had opened its doors once again.

An old man with white hair and a white beard leaned on a walking stick at the entrance, cupping his hands and bowing to express his gratitude to the neighbors who came to show their support.

"Elder, you've finally reopened! When you opened last year, I came by to drink a few cups of tea. At the time, I didn't think much of it, but who would have thought that once you closed for the winter, every other tea I drank tasted utterly bland, even worse than plain water. I've been longing for the tea you brew all winter long. Now that the cold has finally passed and you're open again, how could I not rush over to beg for a cup?"

A plump middle-aged man dressed in the traditional attire of a late-Qing dynasty scholar bowed and laughed heartily.

The old man’s eyes were sharp and piercing. Though his hair and beard were completely white and his skin bore the unmistakable signs of advanced age, his complexion was rosy and his voice resonated with deep, robust breath. Standing there alone, he exuded an aura of vigorous old age.

"Manager Liu, you are far too polite. This old man has no wife or children, leaving me with only a craft for brewing tea. While I have gained some insights, it's hardly as exaggerated as you make it sound. You flatter me too much. Please, come in! I have already instructed my second-in-command to put the water on for boiling—authentic Maojian tea, prepared just the way you like it!"

Manager Liu was overjoyed. He cupped his fists again and hurriedly stepped inside.

Right behind him came another middle-aged man, similarly dressed in fine silks and satins, carrying the appearance of a wealthy merchant. However, compared to Manager Liu, this man was considerably thinner.

"Elder, congratulations! Seeing you so physically robust and with such a healthy, rosy complexion, I knew you must have spent a very happy New Year. I heard your grandson has become increasingly sensible; not long ago, he even went with you to stay in the deep mountains for a while. How was it? Did the child get used to it?"

The old man smiled and said, "A mischievous child is happy as long as he has places to play, so why wouldn't he get used to it? Speaking of this child, his fate is rather bitter; he lost his mother at a tender age and was left all alone in the world.

"Fortunately, this old man is also completely alone, and we rely on each other for survival. The two of us at least have something to look forward to. I just wonder how much longer these old bones of mine can hold out."

At these words, the old man’s expression grew dim.

The wealthy merchant looked curious and asked, "Elder, your words seem to carry a deeper meaning. What is it? Has something happened to the child?"

The old man remained silent for a moment before letting out a sudden sigh.

"He's a bitter child too. Not long ago, while running wild in the woods, he accidentally stepped into a hunter's trap and was severely injured! We invited several doctors to examine him, and they all said the wounds were grave—he will have to lie in bed for at least half a year. It breaks this old man's heart!"

"Oh dear, why is this child so absent-minded? I remember when he was playing on the main street last year, he got hit by a carriage, broke both legs at the same time, and was bedridden for three whole months. It was fortunate he didn't hit his head; otherwise, who knows what might have happened to the child.

"I truly didn't expect that just a few months after recovering, he would suffer such a severe injury again. How capricious fate is!

"The child is genuinely pitiful. Elder, when you have some free time, I will accompany you to go check on him!"

The old man solemnly cupped his hands in thanks. "Thank you very much. Manager Zhang, please go inside. There are still vacant seats in the upstairs parlor; just tell the waiter to lead you up! I still have to welcome guests down here, so please forgive me!"

"Please stay, please stay, I can go in myself. You're already at such an advanced age, there's really no need to keep clinging to these old traditions. Even if you asked a couple of young fellows to welcome guests at the door, no one would dare say a word. Why torture yourself?"

After offering a few words of persuasion and seeing that the old man remained unmoved, Manager Zhang could only shake his head with a sigh, cast a look of deep respect, and slowly walked inside.

The old man remained standing at the entrance to welcome guests, his posture upright, his hair and beard as white as snow, and his voice like a booming bell. He looked just like the God of Longevity brought to life from a New Year painting, drawing a second glance from everyone who passed by.

Through these simple conversations, the old man had effortlessly spread the news of his grandson’s recurring injuries, evoking sighs of sympathy from many familiar patrons.

The Shandong Teahouse had not been open for very long—all things considered, just over two years. When the old man first appeared on this street, he had caused quite a sensation.

First, the old man was of an astonishingly advanced age, having reached a full one hundred years. Born during the Jiaqing Emperor's reign, he had personally witnessed the grand era of turmoil and dynasty collapse.

Second, the old man turned out to be a descendant of Lu Yu’s *Classic of Tea*, possessing an exceptional skill for brewing.

On the surface, the brew looked utterly ordinary, yet its fragrance penetrated deep into the soul, and a single sip left one lingering with regret that it had ended.

That unique flavor defied description, yet it was so addictive that one simply could not stop.

Combined with the fact that the old man possessed considerable wealth and was rumored to have some distant family ties with the mayor, he was deeply respected by the local gentry and merchants, and virtually no one dared to provoke him.