Too many female prisoners, a special forces soldier transmigrates and marries wildly.

night.

The private room on the second floor of "Zui Xian Ju".

Instead of sprawling in the tiger-skin chair as usual, Zhang Biao sat up straighter, his triangular eyes glancing occasionally at Lin Feng, who was sitting opposite him, slowly sipping coarse tea.

"Brother Lin," Zhang Biao rubbed his hands together, his smile a mix of admiration, apprehension, and a barely perceptible pang of heartache, "Fatty Li speaks highly of you. From now on, his family's 'peace money' will probably depend on you, Brother Lin."

Lin Feng put down his rough earthenware teacup, looked up at Zhang Biao, and said in a flat tone, "Brother Biao, you flatter me. It's all Brother Biao's business; Lin San just did the work."

"Hey, you can't say that!" Zhang Biao waved his hand, leaned forward, and lowered his voice, "I'm not blind. You, Brother Lin, are a real dragon, and it's a shame you're stuck in this little mud pit of mine. After what happened last night, those bastards in the west all look at me differently. They're all asking about you, Third Master Lin!"

He paused, his triangular eyes gleaming, before finally getting to the point: "Brother Lin, I'm putting this out there today. From this day forward, you'll get a 30% share of all the 'water money,' 'land money,' and 'safety money' under my name in the western part of the dock area and the western end of 'Muddy Hollow'! You don't need to put up any capital; you'll just be a figurehead. You'll do what you're supposed to do, and if anything happens, you'll step in and keep things in order. You'll definitely get a fair share of the year-end dividends!"

A 30% stake! That's quite a move. Zhang Biao has been operating in "Muddy Land" for over a decade, and the income from the west end is his lifeline. Now, by directly giving away 30% to Lin Feng, he not only wants to win over this newly rising powerhouse, but also wants to completely tie him to the same boat, using profits to bind this powerful dragon crossing the river.

Lin Feng's face remained expressionless; he simply tapped his fingers lightly on the table without replying.

When Zhang Biao saw that he didn't agree immediately, his heart skipped a beat, thinking that he thought it was too little. He gritted his teeth and said again, "Forty percent! Brother Lin, forty percent! That's the most I can do. I have a whole family to support, and so many brothers under my command depend on me for food!"

Lin Feng then spoke slowly, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable weight: "Brother Biao, I'll take the shares. But not 40%."

Zhang Biao's expression changed slightly.

"I want 50%." Lin Feng looked at him, his gaze calm yet sharp, "but not just profit sharing."

Zhang Biao was taken aback: "More than just profit sharing? Brother Lin, you mean...?"

"The territory in the west is nominally still yours, Boss Biao. But how you manage it, how you collect money, and how you deal with external troubles are all up to me," Lin Feng said, enunciating each word clearly. "My people, my rules. Boss Biao, you can sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labor; you'll get your 50% bonus at the end of the year, not a penny less. If we encounter any tough opponents, I'll step in. But there's one thing—you can't interfere with what I do, Boss Biao, and you certainly can't sabotage me behind my back."

This statement was quite blunt, almost a demand for absolute autonomy.

Zhang Biao's face instantly darkened, and his hand on the table clenched slightly.

He's been around for so many years, and no one has ever dared to talk to him like that.

The air in the private room seemed to freeze.

Standing behind Zhang Biao, "Big Bear" and "One-Eyed Dragon" had their hands on their waistbands, staring at Lin Feng with hostile eyes. Liu Sandao and Hou Qi stood behind Lin Feng, their muscles tense even though they didn't move.

Just as tensions were rising, a sudden burst of hurried footsteps and commotion came from downstairs, mixed with cursing and crying.

"Boss Biao! Boss Biao! Something terrible has happened!" A low-ranking officer under Zhang Biao scrambled upstairs, his face ashen. "Damn... something's happened at the dock! 'Crossing-the-River Dragon' Song Mazi has taken over our West District Pier No. 3 with his men! They've injured seven or eight of our brothers and seized three boats!"

"What?!" Zhang Biao jumped to his feet, slamming his cane heavily on the ground. His face was ashen. "That bastard Song Mazi! Does he really think I'm made of clay?!"

He was trembling with rage, but a hint of hesitation and...fear flashed deep in his eyes? Song Mazi's men were notoriously reckless, and he had never dared to confront them head-on before.

"Brother Biao," Lin Feng also stood up, brushing off non-existent dust from his clothes, his tone still calm, "It seems we'll have to put what we were talking about on hold for now. We can discuss it again after I've dealt with the dock matter."

After saying that, he stopped looking at Zhang Biao and turned to walk out. Liu Sandao and Hou Qi immediately followed.

"Brother Lin! Wait!" Zhang Biao hurriedly called out to him, his face shifting between anger and uncertainty. Finally, he stomped his foot angrily. "Fine! It'll be as you say! You decide what happens in the west! Fifty percent it is! But Song Mazi... you'd better clean him up!"

Lin Feng didn't stop walking, he just waved his hand with his back to him: "Wait for your dividends, Boss Biao."

Pier No. 3 in the West District was now a scene of utter chaos. Several of Zhang Biao's men lay groaning on the ground, their heads bleeding. Three small cargo ships were haphazardly tied together with ropes, their cargo overturned and scattered. A dozen or so men, dressed in tattered clothes, wielding clubs and machetes, and with fierce expressions, stood swaggering on the pier. The leader, a burly man with a pockmarked face and a bare chest revealing dark chest hair, was none other than "Crossing the River Dragon" Song Mazi.

"Pah! Is this all the cripple Zhang Biao's henchmen are capable of? They dare to occupy the dock and collect money?" Song Mazi spat a mouthful of phlegm on the ground, grinning to reveal a set of yellow teeth. "Tell that cripple Zhang, from today onwards, this West District dock belongs to the Song family! Tell him to be smart and get out of here! Otherwise, I'll break his other leg too!"

His men burst into laughter, their arrogance palpable.

A crowd of laborers and vendors gathered at the far end of the dock, pointing and whispering, but no one dared to approach.

Just then, the crowd suddenly quieted down and parted to make way. Three men dressed in ordinary short-sleeved shirts walked over unhurriedly.

The leader, with a tall and upright posture and a cold and stern face, was none other than Lin Feng.

Behind him, on either side, came Liu Sandao, with a scarred face and a gloomy look in his eyes, and Hou Qi, who looked eager to try.

The three of them walked straight to the open space on the dock and stood about three zhang away from Song Mazi and the others.