Chapter 92 The Origins of Zhao Taishan

“Useless fool! You can’t even handle such a trivial matter! And you still dare show your face here to embarrass yourself!” Zhao Taishan roared, flecks of saliva spattering across Liu Mazi’s face.

Liu Mazi didn’t dare utter a word of complaint. Kneeling on the ground, he kowtowed repeatedly, begging for mercy, “Master Zhao, please calm your anger! Please, forgive me! It’s my failure, I’ve let you down!”

“You’ve got the nerve to talk back!” Zhao Taishan kicked Liu Mazi square in the chest, sending him sprawling.

“I spent so much money for you to dig up dirt on that kid, and what did you do? Not only did you get played for a fool, you even lost a million of my money!”

“Master Zhao, I... I...” Liu Mazi clutched his chest, unable to speak for a long moment.

“Don’t give me that! You backstabbing dog!” Zhao Taishan grew even more furious, grabbing the ashtray from the table and hurling it at Liu Mazi.

With a loud crack, the ashtray shattered against Liu Mazi’s head, blood instantly streaming down one side of his face.

“Please spare me, Master Zhao! Have mercy!” Liu Mazi clutched his bleeding head, writhing in agony on the floor.

“Hmph! I’ll let you off just this once!” Zhao Taishan snorted coldly, settling back into his grand armchair. He took a deep drag of his cigar, exhaling a swirling ring of smoke. “But this humiliation—I can’t swallow it.”

His eyes narrowed, a sinister glint flashing within. “Go investigate! I want everything on that Qin Feng—his family, his history, down to the last detail! I want to know everything there is to know about him!”

“Yes, yes! I’ll start right away!” Liu Mazi, as if granted amnesty, scrambled out of the room in a hurry.

Watching Liu Mazi’s pathetic retreat, Zhao Taishan curled his lips into a cold sneer. “Trying to take me on? You’re still far too green.”

...

Meanwhile, Qin Feng sat comfortably at Old Li’s antique stall, sipping tea at his leisure.

“Boss Qin, you were truly impressive today!” Old Li poured tea for Qin Feng, his face brimming with admiration. “That Liu Mazi usually struts around here like he owns the place, but you put him in his place in front of everyone. It was a delight to watch!”

“It was nothing, just a trifling matter,” Qin Feng replied with a faint, unconcerned smile.

“You don’t know the half of it, Boss Qin. That Liu Mazi is Zhao Taishan’s right-hand man. Shaming him so badly in public—he’s not going to let this go!” Old Li said, a note of worry in his voice.

“Zhao Taishan?” Qin Feng frowned slightly. The name sounded familiar.

“Yes, he owns Treasure Pavilion, right across from your shop—the big boss who’s got his hands in both the black and the white. You’d best be careful,” Old Li whispered, lowering his voice.

Suddenly, Qin Feng realized why the name rang a bell—it was the boss of the antique market. Still, he didn’t take Zhao Taishan seriously. Just another nouveau riche—hardly someone to fear.

“Don’t worry, Uncle Li. If trouble comes, I’ll deal with it as it comes. It’s nothing worth losing sleep over.” Qin Feng’s lips curled into a faint, cold smile.

“I hope so,” Old Li sighed, clearly still uneasy.

Qin Feng only smiled, saying nothing more. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offered one to Old Li. “Come on, Uncle Li, my treat today. Let’s go have a drink together!”

Old Li hesitated as he took the cigarette. “I don’t know, Boss Qin. You’ve already spent so much today.”

“Oh, don’t say that, Uncle Li. Do me the honor of sharing a couple drinks with me, will you?”

Seeing Qin Feng insist, Old Li could hardly refuse. He nodded his agreement.

They found a roadside stall, ordered a few bottles of beer and some simple dishes, and chatted as they drank.

Old Li was a man who loved his drink; after a few cups, his tongue loosened. “You really handled things well today. But I must warn you, Zhao Taishan isn’t someone to cross. You humiliated him in front of everyone—he won’t take that lying down.”

Qin Feng popped a peanut into his mouth, asking casually, “Oh? Then tell me, Uncle Li, just who exactly is this Zhao Taishan?”

“You’re not from around here, so you don’t know. Zhao Taishan was a real tough customer in his early days—did a lot of grave-robbing. Don’t know how he cleaned up his act, but he opened this antique market, and now he’s a big shot on both sides of the law, with a bunch of thugs under him. No one around here dares mess with him.” Old Li’s voice dropped, tinged with fear.

“Grave-robbing, you say?” Qin Feng’s interest was piqued.

“That’s right. I heard he apprenticed under an old tomb raider and learned all the tricks of the trade. After the old guy died, Zhao Taishan struck out on his own. They say he once stole a treasure from a Tang Dynasty tomb and sold it for billions!” Old Li recounted the tale as if he’d witnessed it himself.

“And after that? How did he go legit?” Qin Feng pressed.

Old Li took another swig, glancing around conspiratorially. “That part I don’t know. All I can say is, not long after, he washed his hands of crime, opened this antique market, and became the big boss.”

Qin Feng smiled, saying nothing, though he made a mental note of it all.

Under the dim glow of the street lamps, their shadows stretched long across the ground.

Qin Feng and Old Li walked back toward the antique market, arms slung around each other, humming an off-key tune as they staggered along.

*Hiccup*—Old Li belched, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Boss Qin, do you think Zhao Taishan really did all that grave-robbing in the past?”

Qin Feng only shook his head with a smile. After a few drinks, Old Li had grown bold, not even daring to utter the words “grave-robbing” directly.

“We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” Qin Feng’s lips curled into a wry smile.

By the time they returned to the antique market, it was already deep into the night.

Old Li, who lived nearby, bid Qin Feng farewell and wobbled home to sleep.

Qin Feng tidied up his shop a bit, preparing to close for the night.

Just then, he heard faint footsteps outside the door.

He frowned. Who could it be at this hour?

He crept silently to the door and peered out through a crack.

By the dim light, he saw a burly man with a scarred, brutish face lurking suspiciously outside his shop.

It was none other than Biao—the top enforcer under Zhao Taishan.

“What’s he doing here in the middle of the night?” Qin Feng wondered silently.

He watched as Biao took a black box from his pocket, carefully placed it at the shop’s entrance, then hurried away.

Qin Feng didn’t act immediately. He waited until Biao had disappeared into the distance, then opened the door and picked up the box.