A heretical cultivator in Bureau 749, I'm the fiercest at pulling out tendons and skinning peop

In those years, mentioning the name of Master Zhang was like mentioning the King of Hell; it would send shivers down one's spine.

This ruthless guy later transformed himself into the director of Bureau 749, donning official robes.

But who doesn't know the ferocity in his bones?

Don't be fooled by their apparent reformation; their methods and behavior are no different from before, just a different skin.

I've heard my grandfather say that ever since Zhang Yucheng reformed, whenever the Jinghai 749 runs out of funds, a group of bandits will appear near Jinghai, specializing in robbing aristocratic families. They'll rob them and then run away, leaving no trace.

That was incredibly clean and efficient.

Later, the powerful families could no longer tolerate it and jointly petitioned the 749 Bureau to send troops to suppress the bandits.

Bureau 749 was quite straightforward. They said they could suppress the bandits, but they had to pay some protection money. After all, the brothers couldn't work for free, could they?

The powerful families discussed it and decided to hand it over; it was better than being robbed by bandits every now and then.

Isn't that a coincidence?

Ever since the aristocratic families started paying protection money every month, those bandits have never appeared again. They vanished into thin air, leaving not a trace.

The intricacies of this matter are clear to those who understand, and even if explained, those who don't won't grasp it.

Wang Gang's expression also stiffened slightly.

He had naturally heard of Zhang Yucheng's reputation.

That's someone even his grandfather would treat with utmost respect.

However, he quickly regained his composure, waved his hand, and said in a seemingly relaxed manner:

"It's alright. I know a friend named Fang Qing, who's quite a prominent figure in Jinghai. I heard he has some connections with Director Zhang and can get things done. I'll visit him later and ask him to introduce me."

Zhao Ya's eyes lit up, and hope instantly ignited in her dim gaze:

"Really? That's great! Then hurry up and go, don't delay! Bing'er is all alone in that kind of place, I don't know how scared she'll be!"

Wang Gang stood up, straightened his collar, and took his coat from the hanger and put it on. "You wait for me at the hotel. I'll be right back. Don't worry, nothing will happen."

He went out and drove to a private club in the eastern part of Jinghai City.

The clubhouse looked unremarkable from the outside, hidden in an old alley. There wasn't even a sign at the entrance, and passersby who didn't know it would think it was just an ordinary residence.

But once you push open that unassuming vermilion door, you'll find a completely different world inside.

Artificial hills and flowing water, pavilions and towers, carved beams and painted rafters, all exuding an antique charm and a touch of understated luxury.

The bluestone pavement underfoot was worn smooth and shiny, clearly an old object that had been around for many years.

Led by a waiter, Wang Gang walked through several corridors and entered a private room.

The private room wasn't large, but it was exquisitely decorated.

There's a landscape painting hanging on the wall, signed by a famous ancient artist, but whether it's genuine or not is hard to say.

A sandalwood incense burner was lit in the corner, its smoke curling upwards, filling the air with a faint fragrance that soothed the mind.

A middle-aged man wearing a blue robe was sitting at the tea table, slowly brewing tea.

The middle-aged man was thin, with a gaunt face and a goatee. He looked like a schoolteacher—gentle, refined, and harmless.

His movements were unhurried and fluid, clearly those of a seasoned tea connoisseur.

But Wang Gang knew that this Fang Qing, Master Fang, was a veteran powerhouse in the Jinghai cultivation world. Although he couldn't compare to someone like Zhang Yucheng, he was still a figure of considerable influence.

More importantly, he heard that this person had some connections with Director Zhang and could speak with him, and that was enough.

"Uncle Fang, I've come to see you."

Wang Gang cupped his hands in greeting, his face beaming with smiles.

That smile carried three parts politeness, three parts ingratiation, and four parts eagerness.

He has used this approach countless times in the business world, and it has never failed him.

Fang Qing raised her head, glanced at him, smiled slightly, and gestured:

"Little Wang is here? Sit down, sit down. Come, try my freshly brewed Da Hong Pao tea, authentic Wuyi Mountain tea, you can't buy it in the market."

Wang Gang sat down as instructed, took the teacup Fang Qing handed him, and took a small sip.

The tea is excellent, with a fragrant aroma, a sweet and mellow taste, and a lingering aftertaste.

But he has no interest in sipping tea right now.

He put down his teacup, considered his words carefully, and said, "Master Fang, to be honest, I've come to visit you today because I have a favor to ask."

Fang Qing picked up the teacup, slowly blew on the steam, and didn't say anything, but just gestured for him to continue.

"Here's what happened. My son had a misunderstanding with an investigator from Bureau 749 at the Qi Practitioner Market in Jinghai today and was taken to Bureau 749."

"I was thinking that Mr. Fang has extensive connections and a lot of influence in Jinghai, and I've also heard that you have some dealings with Director Zhang. Could you help me make an introduction so I can explain to Director Zhang in person and get my son out?"

As Wang Gang spoke, he took out an exquisite jade box from his pocket and pushed it in front of Fang Qing.

The jade box was pure white, with exquisite cloud patterns carved on it. It felt warm and smooth to the touch, and it was clearly no ordinary item.

As soon as the box was opened, a rich spiritual energy wafted out, making the entire private room feel refreshed.

"This is just a small token of my appreciation; I hope you will accept it, sir."

Fang Qing put down his teacup, opened the jade box, and glanced at it.

Inside lay a ginseng root, entirely crimson, with intact roots and an aura of spiritual energy. Some natural patterns even faintly appeared on its body, making it look like a human face.

Judging from its condition and age, it must be at least a thousand years old.

Fang Qing's expression turned somewhat strange.

He looked up at Wang Gang, his eyes carrying an indescribable meaning.

Where did this guy hear that he has a connection with Zhang Yucheng? And that he can even speak to him?

He was thoroughly humiliated by Zhang Yucheng back then, then robbed of everything, and finally used as bait. Is that considered a friendship?

Back then, kneeling before Zhang Yucheng and begging him to go easy on her, does that count as having any right to speak?

Fang Qing's lips twitched slightly as she recalled those unbearable past events.

But he quickly regained his nonchalant demeanor.

He closed the jade box without making a sound and put it into his sleeve. The movement was so natural, as if he had done it countless times.

"What do you mean, 'what's wrong'?"

He waved his hand, his face showing an expression that said, "This is nothing."

"Just prepare the necessary formalities, and I'll introduce you. Director Zhang may look serious, but he's actually very easy to talk to. As long as you're sincere and clear up the misunderstanding, he won't make things difficult for you."

Upon hearing this, Wang Gang was overjoyed and repeatedly clasped his hands in thanks: "Thank you very much, Master Fang! I will remember your great kindness! Please do not hesitate to ask if I need your help in the future!"

Fang Qing smiled and waved his hand: "You're too kind, it was nothing."

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Wang Gang thanked them profusely and took his leave.

After seeing Wang Gang off, Fang Qing returned to the private room and closed the door.

Then, he took out his phone, typed a message, and sent it.

"Uncle Zhang, two fat sheep have arrived. They're stupid and rich. I'll deliver them to you."

After sending the message, he put his phone back in his pocket, picked up his teacup, and slowly took another sip.

Yes, this Da Hong Pao is indeed quite good.

We need to send more to Grandpa Zhang later.