The Martial Lord of the Troubled World

Chapter 77 Winter
In the center of the arena stood a fair-skinned, handsome young man in a suit.

Four or five men dressed as guards surrounded him. Two others lay on the ground, their arms and legs bent at bizarre angles, groaning in pain.

Even though it's clearly a case of the many bullying the few, the side with more people actually appears to be the weaker one.

The four or five guards of the Huang family were all on high alert, hesitating and not daring to step forward at all, instead showing a tendency to retreat step by step.

Suddenly, everything went blurry, and I heard a scream of pain as another person lay on the ground.

"Fu Juemin!"

A fat man hiding behind several guards frantically wiped his sweat with a handkerchief, gritted his teeth, pointed at the man in the suit, and shouted: "If you're unhappy, don't take it out on others!"
"If you're so capable, go find the person who made you unhappy! Do you dare?"

As he spoke, the well-dressed fat man glanced casually toward a private box on the second floor of the theater.

The man in the suit ignored him, took a step forward, and without him making any move, a guard's entire arm was dislocated, and he rolled on the ground in pain.

At that moment, a commotion arose outside the crowd, and someone shouted.

"The patrol is coming!"

The crowd quickly parted, and a group of police officers in dark blue uniforms filed in. The fat man in fine clothes, as if granted a pardon, hurriedly hid behind the leader of the police officers.

"Deputy Director Zhou!"

Zhou He, with his protruding belly, strode into the center of the room, blocking the man in the suit, and said calmly, "Young Master Fu, how about... we just let this matter go today?"

The man in the suit said expressionlessly, "No."

After saying that, he took another step forward, which startled the fat man opposite him, who quickly backed away.

"Shh-"

A row of long spears immediately rose, their muzzles all aimed at the man in the suit.

Zhou He's face darkened, and he said coldly, "I'm still calling you Young Master Fu out of respect for your father. In ten days or half a month, hmph..."

"What do you mean?"

A flash of anger appeared in the man in the suit, and he took two steps forward abruptly.

Zhou He wasn't intimidated by him, and continued to sneer, "What do you think I mean?"

The man in the suit's expression shifted, becoming so gloomy it was almost dripping with water.

After a few breaths, he turned and walked away. As he passed through the crowd, he suddenly heard a soft voice calling his name: "Fu Lingjun".

The man in the suit turned his head at the sound and saw two pretty girls in light blue dresses and white stockings looking at him with complicated expressions.

The man in the suit paused for a moment, then glanced at the two men with a slight nod. Without saying anything more, he irritably pushed aside the onlookers blocking his way, hissed "Get out of the way," and strode away.

"Alright, everyone, let's continue watching the show!"

With a shout, the crowd gradually dispersed.

The sound of gongs and drums gradually rose on the stage, but the audience below was still buzzing with discussion about what had just happened.

"Poor Fu Lingjun."

"Such a wealthy young master, and now... sigh, I heard his family sold all their factories and shops just to raise the money for that donation order forcibly issued by the special envoy."

Zhou Yunzhi sat on the long bench, listening to Jiang Yao's sighs and grumbling beside her, her expression becoming increasingly complicated.

Meanwhile, in a private box on the second floor of the theater.

Song Lin, dressed casually, sat loosely in a round-backed chair, while two alluringly dressed women fed him grapes from either side.

"Young master, he's Fu Guosheng's son. He looks like he's practiced martial arts for a few years."

A man clad in soft armor and bearing a scar on his face looked down, narrowing his eyes. "Disturbing your performance, young master. Shall I go after him and get him?"

Before the scarred, burly man could finish speaking, the aura he unconsciously exuded filled the entire private room like frost, and the two women standing next to Song Lin couldn't help but tremble.

"You have a really bad heart."

Song Lin shook his head with a smile and said lazily, "People have been forced to sell their possessions, can't you let them live a couple more days?"

After saying that, he waved his hand.

"Watch a show!"

"Yes, son."

The scarred, burly man nodded, his murderous aura gradually subsiding.

"go home."

Fu Juemin got into the car parked in front of the theater. As soon as the door closed, the expression on his face returned to complete calm.

Having learned that Song Lin was watching a play here, he made a special trip to "put on a show," but unexpectedly, he also ran into Zhou Yunzhi and her friend.

Seven days later, news of the Fu family receiving the "sky-high donation order" from Song Lin, the son of the provincial governor, had already spread throughout the streets and alleys of Luanhe County. Everyone knew that the Fu family, once the richest family in Luanhe, was about to become a thing of the past. The banks, factories, and shops under the Fu family's name were all going bankrupt and being sold off. In order to raise the donation quota set by the young master Song, even the goods that had been detained at the dock for a long time were being sold off cheaply on the spot.

And he, the eldest son of the Fu family, was like a mad dog at the end of its rope, constantly looking for trouble and fighting on the streets.

This is exactly the effect Fu Juemin wanted.

The car drove slowly along the street, and Fu Juemin looked out the window at the street scene.

After practicing blood cultivation, his physique improved, and he was no longer as sensitive to heat and cold as before.

Now, when I look up, I realize that almost everyone on the street is wearing a thick coat to keep out the wind and cold.

What's the date today?

Fu Juemin suddenly spoke up and asked a question.

The driver in the front seat glanced at the rearview mirror and replied, "It's winter today, young master."

"Winter is approaching..."

Fu Juemin muttered to himself, then suddenly remembered something and hurriedly said, "Uncle Zhang, turn around and head to the dock."

"Ok?"

The driver was taken aback, but before he could respond, Fu Juemin frowned and rejected the idea: "Never mind, let's go home first. I need to get something."

"Drive faster, Uncle Zhang."

"Yes, Master."

On the street, a car that was driving at a leisurely pace suddenly emitted a hum and sped away, startling pedestrians on both sides who quickly scrambled to make way.

Luanhe Wharf.

Su Hui stood quietly in the wind, watching the people below carry the boxes and luggage onto the ship one by one.

Today she wore a short pink cheongsam embroidered with plum blossoms, with a snow-white fur lining peeking out from the tightly buttoned stand-up collar. To protect against the cold river wind, she wore a light-colored overcoat, which made her look even more elegant and noble.

"Miss, you may board the ship now."

A middle-aged woman, still dressed as a maid from the previous dynasty, came up and carefully helped Su Hui onto the boat.

The charcoal fire was burning brightly in the cabin. Su Hui found a place to sit down, took off her coat, and listened to the middle-aged woman chattering in her ear while warming her fingers, which were a little stiff from the cold, by the fire.

"When I get back, I will definitely report to the Grand Madam that the man surnamed Song is really used to being a local tyrant in Yangping, and he even dares to provoke our Su family."

"Fortunately, Miss is unharmed. If she had suffered even the slightest injury, cutting off a hundred heads from the Song family wouldn't be enough to compensate for it."

Suddenly, the curtain was lifted, and the boat captain poked his head in, carefully handing over a neatly wrapped gift box.

"Just before the ship set sail, someone delivered this, saying it was for Miss Su."

"Who delivered it?"

The middle-aged maid took the box and asked in a cold voice.

The boatman replied, "He said it was Young Master Fu from the Fu family."

"The Fu family."

The middle-aged maid frowned, about to say something, when the box was nimbly taken away by a pair of slender hands.

"Miss."

Su Hui ignored her and opened the box on her own.

Inside the box was a box of snow-white, jade-like pastries, with a layer of fine, golden bean flour at the bottom. They were still warm, emitting a soft, sweet aroma.

"Jiaodongci?!"

Su Hui's beautiful eyes lit up, seemingly surprised and pleasantly surprised.

She eagerly picked one up and put it in her mouth, savoring its soft, sweet flavor. Suddenly, she noticed that there seemed to be something else pressed under the pastry box.
"The Fu family...the Fu family"

The middle-aged maid standing nearby looked at the meager belongings with disdain, "Just because of this petty matter of the Fu family, Miss is going home late this year and will definitely miss seeing the maple leaves at Ziyun Mountain on the outskirts of Shenghai."

"Sheng Hai's is indeed out of the running..."

Su Hui murmured to herself, then gently reached out and took out the item that was pressed under the pastry box, a hint of tenderness appearing in her eyes.

"But at least we got to see each other this year."

In her hand, within an exquisitely framed picture book, several oil-painted maple leaves were burning bright red.

Meanwhile, at a riverbank near the Luanhe Wharf.

Fu Juemin watched the boat carrying Su Hui sail away into the distance, then finally turned away and gave a calm instruction:
"Let's go, go back."

(End of this chapter)