Chapter Fifteen: The Grand Market of Zhao Village

“Damn, Brother Cheng, that kid actually dared to hang up on you? Want me to teach him a lesson?” In a lavish private room of a nightclub, a bald man with tattoos on his arms spoke furiously. The phone was on speaker, so everyone in the room heard everything clearly.

A middle-aged man sitting nearby waved his hand, “Xiao Hai, these are trivial matters. You need to curb that temper of yours—don’t lose your head every time something happens.”

This man was Zhai Dacheng, the one whom Feng Tao had just called. He was a local kingpin, so much so that people had given him the nickname “Zhai Half the City.” It might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but it spoke to his influence in the city’s underworld.

The man beside him, nicknamed Xiao Hai, was actually Zhao Hai, Zhai Dacheng’s top lieutenant. He was fiercely loyal and good with his fists, but not particularly sharp-witted—always quick to act and slow to think.

“That’s a trivial matter?” Zhao Hai glared. “That punk doesn’t even show basic respect! Boss, I don’t get why you give him so much face. Isn’t he just a pretty boy living off a woman?”

Zhai Dacheng snorted coldly. “Xiao Hai, you’ve followed me for years—can’t you use your brain? Feng Tao is indeed living off a woman, but that woman is from the Long family! If he manages to climb up, even a little of what the Long Corporation throws our way will be enough for us. So, we need to help him out. I want you to take care of this.”

Zhao Hai looked disgruntled. “But he hasn’t actually made it yet, right? From what I can tell, the money he brought back from abroad isn’t enough for him to keep up that lifestyle. Dating Miss Long must cost a fortune! He might look flashy, but he should be broke by now.”

Zhai Dacheng nodded. “Of course I know that. But didn’t you hear what he said before he hung up?”

“What?” Zhao Hai looked blank.

Seeing Zhao Hai’s confusion, Zhai Dacheng chuckled. “What’s going on in that pig brain of yours? Feng Tao mentioned a video! There are only two types of videos that could make him so nervous: one type is damaging to him, like being caught in the act. If that’s the case, it’ll ruin his relationship with Miss Long, and he’ll do anything to get it back. The other possibility is that the video is important to the Long family, and Feng Tao is desperate to prove himself. Either way, if we get our hands on it first, we can make a fortune.”

Realization dawned on Zhao Hai, but then he frowned. “Boss, aren’t you saying we’ll be fighting the Long family for this video? That’s way out of our league. Isn’t this like stealing from a tiger’s mouth?”

Zhai Dacheng burst out laughing. “Hai, you still refuse to think. My favorite thing is dealing with businessmen. I admit they’re rich and not easy to mess with, but for them, everything has a price. Anything that can be solved with money is a small matter. As the saying goes, porcelain doesn’t fight with clay pots. We’re the clay pots. When it comes down to paying some money for the video or taking a risk by clashing with us, they’ll choose the former every time. As long as we play it by the rules, we’ll profit handsomely.”

Zhao Hai immediately flattered him, “Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!”

Zhai Dacheng laughed. “Alright, Hai, time’s against us. Head to the hospital and check on Hammer. He was at the scene and should know what happened. Get to the bottom of it and handle the matter properly.”

After listening, Zhao Hai squeezed the chest of a heavily made-up woman sitting beside him. “Alright, the boss has given me work. I’ll deal with you later, you little minx! Boss, wait for my good news!” With that, he got up and left.

That night, undercurrents surged. All sorts of forces began investigating Yang Meng. As for Yang Meng? He slept soundly through the night and strolled to the entrance of the alley the next morning.

“Uncle Zhao, one bowl of tofu pudding, four fried dough sticks, and a tea egg!” Yang Meng arrived early at the breakfast stall.

“Xiao Yang, what’s got into you today? You look full of energy—anything good happen?” Uncle Zhao, the stall owner, sized him up. “You look different somehow.”

Yang Meng paid and grinned. “Uncle Zhao, no matter how sweet you talk, I won’t pay extra. You make it sound so mysterious—how am I different?”

Uncle Zhao pondered. “Hmm… hard to say. You just seem more spirited.”

Yang Meng laughed heartily. “Uncle Zhao, you’re too good with words. Give me another tea egg!”

He was indeed in high spirits. Last night, he’d had a dream—a dream that lasted ten thousand years, filled with the cultivation scenes of all the past Emperors of the Eastern Peak, even including the martial legacy of King Wu Cheng. Compared to yesterday, he was a completely different person.

The only regret was that among the cultivation insights of the Eastern Peak Emperors, there was no mention of the “Black Domain”—no records related to the Great Emperor Pangu. Thinking about it, that was understandable. After all, Emperor Pangu was an ancient being of immense power.

One must learn contentment. Cultivating in dreams—now that was happiness!

If only he could find a place to test out his newfound skills—now that would be perfect!

As Uncle Zhao brought the breakfast over, he asked curiously, “Xiao Yang, you look so pleased. What happened? Tell me, let me be happy for you.”

Yang Meng replied honestly, “Nothing much—my motorcycle got stolen, and my girlfriend ran off with someone else.”

Uncle Zhao’s expression froze. He didn’t know how to respond—wasn’t that just plain unlucky? How could Yang Meng still be so cheerful?

Seeing Uncle Zhao’s face, Yang Meng laughed. “Don’t feel awkward, Uncle Zhao. I figured it out last night—those ‘can’t live without her’ moments are just hormonal impulses. She left with someone else, so now I can save money and buy myself a better motorcycle. That’s a good thing, right? I used to be reluctant, but now, I’ve decided to treat myself better.”

Uncle Zhao studied him carefully and, seeing no sign he was forcing a smile, nodded. “It’s good you broke up with that girl. I remember you bringing her here for breakfast—she always looked so disdainful. I could tell she wasn’t your type. I don’t believe she’d never eaten this kind of food! Putting on airs for nothing. People like that, I see right through them—they’re just afraid others will know they were ever poor.”

Yang Meng gave a thumbs-up. “Well said, Uncle Zhao!”

Uncle Zhao waved his hand. “At my age, there’s nothing I haven’t seen. So, Xiao Yang, what are you up to next?”

“It’s the seventh day of the lunar month, so I’m heading to the Zhao Village Market!” Yang Meng replied.

Uncle Zhao chuckled. “Oh, going to buy a motorcycle? Alright, eat up then.”

The Zhao Village Market was located in the outskirts, on a dried-up riverbed near Zhao Village. On the second and seventh days of the lunar month, a large market would form there—a tradition over two hundred years old. In the early days, it sold essentials for daily life, but now it had become the city’s largest secondhand marketplace. You could find everything there—from used motorcycles to used cars and even houses.

Yang Meng was the classic example of a poor man who’d struck it rich. Last night, he had wanted to show off, but was quickly brought back down to earth by the situation with Wang Xin-nuan. So what if he was the Eastern Peak Emperor? He could still get cheated on like anyone else…

Besides, a hundred thousand wasn’t much. During his time with Wang Xin-nuan, he hadn’t sent any money home. His parents never asked for money, but his little sister was about to start college. As her big brother, he felt it was his responsibility to help out. So, he still needed to be frugal.

What’s wrong with buying a used motorcycle? If you know what you’re doing, it can be a great bargain. At the secondhand motorcycle market, at least half the bikes are nearly new, and you can find all sorts of top models.

For many young people, motorcycles are just a way to express themselves. Some get caught up in the moment and buy one, only to realize it doesn’t suit them, so they sell it and buy another. Others take out loans but can’t keep up with the costs, so after a few months of fun, they sell the bike. Then there are the real rich kids who don’t care about the price—if it looks good and goes fast, that’s all that matters. After the novelty wears off, they sell and buy a new one.

But there are pitfalls, too. If you don’t know bikes and dive into the secondhand market, at best you’ll end up with a fixer-upper; at worst, you might buy a stolen one and have to deal with the police.

After breakfast, Yang Meng spent over forty minutes bumping along on the bus before finally arriving at the legendary Zhao Village Market. When he reached the motorcycle section, he was dazzled by the selection!

All the vendors together had at least a few hundred used motorcycles for sale. Besides the cheap commuter bikes, Yang Meng even spotted an Indian Chief, a Harley-Davidson Dyna Low Rider, and a Softail Commander—high-end machines worth hundreds of thousands, just parked casually for anyone to pick from.

Clearly, living standards had risen. Those were seriously expensive bikes, yet here they were, lined up by the roadside. Yang Meng, with a hundred thousand in his pocket, had originally planned to splash out on a big, flashy bike, but looking at these…

Well, it seemed like he was still a bit short.