The Republic of China: I, Xiangzi, a Hero in a Chaotic Era

Liu Jiaxiang appeared to be inquiring about the house, but in reality, he was blatantly soliciting bribes, and his appetite was astonishingly large!

A two-courtyard house near Xi'an Gate would cost at least seven or eight hundred silver dollars!

This is worlds apart from the hundred dollars he just gave away!

Master Liu's heart was in turmoil, and he felt as if a piece of his flesh had been ripped out.

He could afford seven or eight hundred dollars, but it still stung a little; it was his retirement money that he had saved up over the years!

At this moment, he quickly weighed the pros and cons:

reject?

Those 28 vehicles that were impounded will not be returned, and the people and the car factory will inevitably be "rectified" indefinitely until they go bankrupt.

The patrol officers would be like leeches, watching his driver every day, arresting him and impounding his vehicle, until his business was completely ruined.

Using connections to exert pressure?

He nipped the idea in the bud as soon as it popped into his head.

Those who know their own situation best. The "Master Liu of Xi'an Gate" thing is just a title. It's all in the past, just the lingering intimidation from the streets.

Officially, the most influential people he knew were probably just a few low-level officers in the Second District Police Station, whose influence was negligible.

In the underworld?

He had long since retired from the criminal world, and his influence had faded.

Now he's nothing more than an old man who makes a living by exploiting low-level rickshaw pullers, and he's long since lost his ability to navigate both the legitimate and criminal worlds.

He had no bargaining power in front of this ruthless and mysterious new director.

A brief silence filled the private room, with only the faint sounds of the marketplace drifting in from outside the window.

Liu Siye's wrinkled face looked ashen in the afternoon light, his eyes flashing intensely as if struggling.

Ultimately, the will to survive prevailed. As long as the green hills remain, there's always hope for a comeback.

As long as the car factory is still around, they can always make it back.

Master Liu took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind. The worry and fear on his face were instantly replaced by an almost fawning, energetic smile, even carrying a hint of honor at being able to "share the director's burdens."

"Oh, Director Liu, what are you saying! You've come to the right person for this!"

He slapped his thigh, his tone resolute.

"Don't worry! Leave it to me, Liu Si! I know this area around Xianmen like the backyard! I know every alley and every house inside and out!"

"I'll definitely find you a nice house in a quiet location, with a good layout, and that you'll absolutely love! I guarantee you'll be satisfied!"

Looking at the seemingly genuine, heartfelt smile on Liu Siye's face, Liu Jiaxiang's lips slowly curved upwards, forming an equally gentle smile, even tinged with approval:

"Alright, then I'll trouble you, Master Liu."

The aroma of food and wine filled the private room.

Both men wore polite smiles and raised their glasses to each other, seemingly restoring a warm and harmonious atmosphere.

Master Liu solicitously offered drinks and served food, uttering flattering words as if the harrowing experience from just moments before had never occurred.

Liu Jiaxiang responded calmly, occasionally nodding, appearing approachable.

However, beneath this seemingly harmonious facade, a completely different mindset is at play.

Liu Jiaxiang felt a chill in his heart, looking at the old hand in front of him who was forcing a smile as if he were looking at prey waiting to be slaughtered.

He smiled, but in his heart he had already sentenced Master Liu to death.

This kind of soft persimmon, which is all bark and no bite, is a free lunch.

Taking this house first would not only solve my problem of where to live, but also temporarily appease this local tyrant, giving me time to smooth things over with the more important connections above me.

When the time is right and the foundation is solid, it will be time to completely swallow up Renhe and the car factory, and send this old guy on his way.

Master Liu and his car factory were merely stepping stones for Liu Jiaxiang to amass his first fortune in the chaotic capital.

Master Liu, filled with bitterness and calculation, forced a smile while rapidly devising plans on how to find the house at the lowest possible cost, how to redeem the vehicles and resume business as soon as possible, and how to eke out a living under the ruthless young director.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the carved wooden window, casting dappled shadows on the exquisite cups, plates, and bowls.

The air was filled with the aroma of wine and food as the two men clinked glasses and chatted amiably.

However, beneath the warm and inviting surface of this private room, a chilling calculation, a suppressed fear, and an impending bloody storm were brewing.

A silent undercurrent of ulterior motives flowed amidst the clinking of glasses, imbuing the banquet with an exceptionally eerie and heavy atmosphere.

The afternoon sun slanted into the dilapidated courtyard of the Xisi North Police Station, and the air was filled with dust and the smell of cheap rubber.

After reaching an agreement with Liu Jiaxiang, the henchman sent by Master Liu hurriedly entered the police station with a heavy bag of money.

A humble smile graced his face, but a hint of heartache lingered in his eyes as he handed the patrolman on duty a cloth bag containing 150 silver dollars, his voice low and obedient:

"Fourth Master ordered us to come and collect the car; this is the fine."

The patrol officer took the money bag expressionlessly, weighed it in his hand, and waved it away.

The rickshaw pullers immediately rushed into the yard and quickly dragged out the twenty-eight rickshaws that had been impounded, one after another. The wheels made a soft creaking sound as they rolled over the muddy ground.

The man looked at the empty courtyard, breathed a sigh of relief, glanced at the closed door of the director's office, and retreated with a complicated expression.

After the courtyard returned to silence, Liu Jiaxiang pushed open the wooden door of his office and walked straight to the eaves.

His gaze swept across the courtyard, his voice low but penetrating:

"Everyone, gather in the conference room."

The patrol officers, who had been scattered at the base of walls or under eaves picking their nails and yawning, immediately tensed up upon hearing this and jogged over.

They shoved each other, their steps dragging, their faces bearing the usual laziness and unease.

The meeting room was a small, cramped room with mottled walls and a few long benches next to a square table with a missing corner.

The patrol officers squeezed in, standing with their hands at their sides, not daring to sit down.

Liu Jiaxiang walked to the head of the table, pulled out a chair, sat down, crossed his legs, rested his elbows on the table, and tapped his fingertips lightly.

His gaze swept over the crowd like a hawk's, from the oil-stained police uniform with its open collar, to the loose baton at the waist, and then to the faces that were either numb or timid.

"Look at the character of you bunch of scoundrels."

Liu Jiaxiang spoke, his voice steady, yet each word pierced the eardrums like an ice pick.

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on the open collar of a burly patrolman.

"They don't look like patrol officers at all; what's the difference between them and the thugs on the street?"

The patrolman instinctively shrank back, his fingers frantically buttoning his collar, his face drained of color.

A tall, thin patrolman next to him swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, his eyes darting around.

"With you guys like this, it's no wonder the area under the jurisdiction of our Xisi North Police Station is so chaotic."

Liu Jiaxiang continued, his tone carrying an unquestionable judgment.

The patrol officers lowered their heads, staring at the mud-stained tips of their shoes, their shoulders slumped as if crushed by an invisible weight. The air seemed to freeze, broken only by the occasional clamor of the city outside the window.