002 Deep urban routines

The kind-hearted chubby man stepped forward as a mediator and pulled me aside. He asked how much money I had, and I revealed my bottom line: a mere 8000 yuan.

He remarked on the vast difference and expressed difficulty in resolving the matter. After rummaging through my backpack, he sighed disappointingly. Turning to negotiate with the old farmer, who stood stubbornly like a mule, bellowing without relenting.

From a nearby stall, the chubby man fetched a bronze sword and handed it to the old farmer.

"Friend, there's only one solution left. Since the young man can't compensate you, you can use this sword to kill him for destroying your treasure. That would settle the matter, wouldn't it?"

The old farmer, eyes wide, nose hair bristling like needles, after much persuasion from the chubby man, reluctantly accepted his misfortune.

I bought two boxes of cigarettes at a shop, intending to thank the kind-hearted chubby man. However, he disappeared into the crowd without leaving his name.

A street cleaner secretly told me that the chubby man and the old farmer were accomplices. They often duped unsuspecting outsiders using the same tactics. Before me, several people had fallen victim to their scams.

Furious, I searched everywhere for them, but by sunset, I had no leads.

Leaving the antique street, it was already dark. The streets were filled with the scent of exotic food, and my stomach growled in hunger. I was penniless, with only those two boxes of cigarettes left. I lit one, took a few puffs, choking and coughing incessantly.

I wandered to a nearby park and sat on a bench by the artificial lake, feeling utterly desolate, like a stray dog.

"I must become wealthy. When that day comes, I'll urinate in the mouths of those who have bullied me, let them taste humiliation," I shouted at the lake.

A scantily clad, seductive girl smoking a cigarette approached, blowing the smoke gently into my face.

"Boss, hungry?"

"Come with me. Dumplings downstairs, with soup. I guarantee satisfaction, and it's free if you're not happy."

After twists and turns, we arrived at a rented room. As soon as we entered, she pushed me onto the bed and swiftly undid my belt.

It was then that I realized the innuendo in her words. Blushing furiously, my face felt like it was about to burst into flames.

She aggressively questioned why I pretended to be wealthy, arrogantly talked about urinating in others' mouths, then opened the window and threw my backpack onto the street.

Inside the backpack was "The Wandering of Ten Thousand Tombs," the legacy my grandfather left me. I couldn't afford to lose it.

As I moved to retrieve my backpack, a car came speeding towards me, brakes screeching in my ears.

The car stopped less than a meter away from me. About two hundred meters behind the car, a white box truck suddenly extinguished its lights and stopped by the roadside.

It wasn't until I joined them that I learned the gang was conducting a transaction that night. To ensure absolute security, the car in front scouted the road, while the box truck behind contained a large number of precious artifacts.

The car door opened, and a pair of long legs in red high heels stepped out, followed by a woman in a red trench coat with big wavy hair.

The woman, in her thirties, voluptuous and stunningly beautiful.

"Be careful with your scams in the future, especially on this fast lane. You might earn a fortune, but it could cost you your life."

She tossed me two hundred yuan, got back in the car, revved the engine, honked, and motioned for me to move aside.

My self-esteem had been ruthlessly wounded three times in a single day. Even a rabbit would bite when cornered. My inner volcano finally erupted, and I slammed my fist on the hood, leaving a dent.

"Just because you're rich doesn't make you special. If you have the guts, come and face me!"

The woman sat in the car, dialed a number on her phone, and after hanging up, she glanced at me, a frightening smile curling her lips as she plotted harm.

The car's engine roared, and in the blink of an eye, I instinctively dodged to the side. The side mirror grazed my waist as it sped past.

The woman's driving skills were exceptional. The vehicle made a sharp turn on the spot, leaving dark tire marks on the ground, then surged towards me again.

I maneuvered like a snake, racing for my life on the street. After covering about a hundred meters, I was suddenly blinded by two glaring white lights ahead. A box truck parked by the roadside suddenly started, hurtling towards me.

The two vehicles sandwiched me, like a meat bun.

Two people descended from the truck's cab. One was an elderly man with a side-parted hairstyle, tall and thin, wearing glasses, giving a cultured appearance. The other had a mustache, emitting a stench of rotten fish, appearing to be around forty years old.

The mustached man asked, "Lingzi, what's going on?"

"Mr. Zhang, Lao Duan, this kid has ruined our plan. Lin Lao's intention is..."

The woman gestured with her jade hand and drew a line across her neck. The mustached man immediately understood, turned to the cab, and grabbed a seamless steel pipe, rotating his wrist as he approached me.

"Under broad daylight, what are you... What are you trying to do?"

"Hehe, kid, understand the situation. In the dead of night, it's the perfect time for murder."

The mustached man glanced at the sky, a contemptuous smile playing at the corners of his mouth, then raised the weapon in his hand and swung it at me ferociously.

I turned and ran, but as soon as I turned, I saw a wrinkled old face blocking my way. The elderly man had unknowingly blocked my path, a wicked smile on his face.

"Little brother, in such a hurry, are you trying to hurry to reincarnate?"

Before I could react, I felt a gust of wind, and then a blow to the back of my head. A sensation of cracking spread through my body like electricity, and I didn't even feel the pain. Everything went black, and I collapsed.

"Guangting, Guangting."

A voice softly called my name in my ear. I thought I was dead; it must be Grandpa calling his beloved grandson.

Slowly opening my eyes, I saw a kind face in my line of sight, but it wasn't Grandpa—it was an unfamiliar old man.

He had a tuft of gray and white goat beard, prominent cheekbones, eyes as bright as torches, with faint blue veins visible between his eyebrows, like a dark cloud. He looked very spirited.

The three people who wanted to kill me were also present, visibly startled. I immediately sat up, but the pain shot through my head as if it had split open when I exerted force.

"Guangting, don't be afraid. It's safe here. No one will hurt you."

The old man turned his head and glanced at them, his voice cold. "Apologize to Guangting."

Reluctantly, the three of them muttered apologies to me.

The old man waved his hand, and the three left one after another.

Only the old man and I were left in the room. He suddenly became excited, his goat beard trembling.

I asked cautiously, "Who are you, and how do you know my name?"