Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

Across from the entrance of Renshou Lane, there is a small brokerage shop.

Smoke filled the air as the shopkeeper, Old Sun, sat in a grand chair with his legs crossed, sucking on the spout of a gleaming purple clay teapot.

He was surrounded by three or four other men who also worked as brokers and hangers-on, and they were talking animatedly.

"If you ask me, even though that family in courtyard number seven runs a funeral business, they're in for a rough time," a weasel-faced waiter whispered. "That well's got a lot of haunting energy, Boss Sun. How much did you get from them this time?"

Old Sun didn't even lift his eyelids, and slowly took another sip: "We've taken what we needed to take, and we've made what we needed to make. As for whether they can stay or not, that's up to their own fate."

He curled his lip. "Anyway, the contract is clearly signed, and the money and goods are settled. We don't guarantee anything afterward."

"Exactly!" another burly hanger-on chimed in, a hint of schadenfreude on his face. "Weren't the previous ones all like this? The longest one, I remember, was that skeptical bodyguard from the west of the city. In less than seven days, his whole family disappeared!"

"The house was spotless, as if no one had ever lived there; it looked so barren and eerie."

"The shortest one should be a scholar from out of town, who disappeared on the third day." The sharp-mouthed waiter shrank his neck, as if afraid of being overheard. "Everyone says that something crawled out of the well. Scarface from the Chao Gang later took people to see it, but he just had the well sealed tightly and forbade anyone to mention it again."

"Are the Chao Gang too lazy to care, or rather, too afraid to care deeply?" someone asked tentatively.

Old Sun finally put down the teapot, squinted, and scanned the area: "Manage? How? That place is really eerie!"

"Scarface said the well is sealed off; whoever wants to live there can live there, but they'll have to take responsibility if anything happens."

"Anyway, the land deeds and property deeds have passed through our hands once, and we'll take our share without missing a penny. As for whether the residents live or die, leave or stay... what's it to us?"

"Who among those poor, shabby neighbors dares to say a word? Aren't they afraid the Chao Gang will come knocking on their door?"

He paused, then pointed at the group of people with his finger, "Next time, if any of the residents' relatives or friends come to inquire, just say you've moved away or are going north to do business."

A tacit chuckle rippled through the brokerage. The group waited for things to calm down before settling on the unclaimed property and searching for the next unsuspecting tenant or buyer.

"I reckon," Old Sun said calmly, picking up the teapot again, "that family can't escape the number seven either. In a few more days, number seven in Renshou Lane will be vacant again."

"Then, we can tidy it up, put up a sign, and sell the house again."

The crowd chuckled softly again.

"Laugh? Is it that funny?"

The door of the dental clinic, which was slightly ajar, was pushed open with considerable force.

Chen Mo walked in with the pale light of the outside sky behind him, his figure casting a long shadow on the ground.

His face was expressionless, and his eyes were even excessively calm.

After entering the room, his gaze swept over the group of people, finally settling on Old Sun's frozen face.

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Before the schadenfreude on the faces of those men could fade, a hint of astonishment and unease crept in.

One of the short, thin shop assistants standing by the counter silently took half a step back the moment Chen Mo pushed open the door, his eyes glancing toward the small door leading to the backyard.

Old Sun, having seen his share of ups and downs, quickly recovered from his initial surprise with a professional smile. He put down the teapot and stood up: "Oh, young man, are you looking for a house to rent or sell, or do you need any other services?"

Chen Mo ignored his words and walked straight to the table in front of Lao Sun. He reached out and picked up the still warm purple clay teapot, looked at it, and then released it.

"Snap!"

The crisp cracking sound was particularly startling in the silent dental clinic.

Fragments of clay and warm tea were splashed all over the ground, and also onto Old Sun's shoes and trousers.

The smile on Old Sun's face froze completely, and his expression turned visibly grim. He immediately realized that an unpleasant guest had come to cause trouble.

"Manager Sun," Chen Mo said calmly, his voice icy cold, "you sold the courtyard at No. 7 Renshou Lane, didn't you?"

"Where did the previous residents go? Did they move away? Did they go to start businesses?"

"How do you manage to earn this kind of heartless, childless money with such peace of mind?"

The atmosphere suddenly became tense.

The burly hanger-on, emboldened by his bravado, stepped forward, pointed at Chen Mo, and shouted, "Kid, what gang are you from? Daring to cause trouble here! Do you know who's protecting this brokerage firm?"

Before he could finish speaking, he felt a blur before his eyes, followed by a sharp pain in his wrist, and he staggered back several steps uncontrollably.

Chen Mo didn't look at him directly, still staring at Old Sun: "My patience is limited. Give me my money back, and you can take the yard back yourselves."

"Buying a house is a mutual decision, and it's all in black and white! When you were tempted by the cheap price of that yard, didn't I already warn you about the noise you were making at night?"

Old Sun forced himself to remain calm, raising his voice with a fierce but ultimately weak tone, "Let me tell you, our brokerage is backed by Scarface from the Canal Gang! If you dare to make a move here and break the rules, Scarface won't let you off!"

As he spoke, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at the spot where the short, thin man had just been standing, and sure enough, the man was gone.

Old Sun felt a little more at ease. As long as he could stall for time and wait for Scarface to arrive with his men, this kid would have to be brought down no matter how good he was at fighting!

"The Canal Gang? Scarface?" Chen Mo tilted his head slightly, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Sounds impressive."

He took a step forward, grabbed Old Sun by the neck, and lifted him up with one hand.

Chen Mo has reached the halfway point of the second level of bone tempering technique. His strength with one hand has reached at least 300 jin, so lifting Old Sun, who weighs less than 100 jin, is naturally no problem.

Old Sun's feet left the ground, and he kicked wildly. His face instantly turned a liverish color. He tried desperately to pry open the iron-like hand, but it wouldn't budge.

His eyes were filled with unbelievable fear. He never dreamed that this seemingly thin young man would have such terrifying strength in one hand!

The other guys were terrified. They wanted to go forward but didn't dare, and huddled in the corner, trembling.

Chen Mo grabbed Lao Sun and lifted him to eye level. "Give me my money back, or I'll snap your neck right now."

There was no anger in his eyes, only indifference, as if he were talking about something trivial.

This calm that treated human life as worthless was more chilling to Old Sun than any words.

Just then, a jumble of footsteps and shouts came from outside the brokerage.

"stop!"

"Scarface's here! Kid, you're dead meat!"

The short, skinny guy who had slipped away earlier returned with his men.

A man nicknamed Scarface charged in first, followed by seven or eight thugs wielding sticks.

As soon as they entered the room, they saw Old Sun, who was being held up by Chen Mo with one hand and was about to die. They were immediately furious.

"You dare!" Scarface's face contorted with rage, his eyes blazing with murderous intent. "Let go of Old Sun! You dare touch my men on my turf? You've got a death wish!"

He was burly, with prominent temples, clearly a trained fighter, and far more imposing than the average thug.

Seven or eight thugs quickly dispersed and blocked the doorway, revealing their vicious nature.