9: Chapter 9 The wicked servant deceives his master, unaware of his own mortality.

Luoyun Town, East Street.

The threshold of the Gu Clan rice shop was almost worn smooth by the morning sun.

Uncle Zhong, the old shop assistant, was wiping a cypress wood rice measure with a damp cloth in a leisurely manner.

He had worked here for thirty years, from a young, hot-headed lad to a man with graying temples.

He was as familiar with every table, chair, measure, and scoop in the shop as he was with his own bones.

"Uncle Zhong, two jin of japonica rice!" A neighbor walked in, carrying a cloth bag.

"Coming right up!" Uncle Zhong replied with a chuckle. His hands moved nimbly as he scooped up the rice—exactly two jin, no more, no less—then bagged and tied it in one fluid motion.

The shop was filled with the fresh fragrance of new rice, mixed with the faint scent of cypress wood—a comforting aroma.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over the shop entrance, blocking out all the warm morning light.

Uncle Zhong looked up, the smile on his face slowly fading.

Standing at the entrance were four or five men. The leader was a slightly plump middle-aged man wearing a silk shirt.

This man was Steward Wang Fu, the head steward of the Wang family in town. He often followed his master, bullying and domineering people throughout the town.

Steward Wang Fu did not enter immediately. Instead, he stood with his hands behind his back, his triangular eyes scanning the shop's furnishings with a critical gaze. His expression was not that of someone looking at a rice shop, but rather someone inspecting his own backyard.

Behind him, several burly servants stood with arms akimbo, hands on their clubs, looking menacing.

Seeing this, the neighbors silently retreated to the side, watching from a distance.

"Oh, isn't this Steward Wang? What wind blew you here?" Uncle Zhong put down his work and walked up to him, neither servile nor overbearing.

Steward Wang Fu then slowly stepped over the threshold. He sniffed the air and frowned in disgust. "It reeks of poverty in here. Tell me, Old Zhong, isn't it time for your Old Ancestor to kick the bucket?"

His voice was not loud, but it clearly echoed throughout the shop. The malice and schadenfreude in his words were undisguised.

Uncle Zhong's face darkened. "Steward Wang, you can eat whatever you want, but you cannot just say whatever you want. Our Old Ancestor is deeply blessed and will live a long life."

"A long life?" Steward Wang Fu laughed exaggeratedly, as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world. "Who in all of Luoyun Town doesn't know that old thing, Gu Yan, has been bedridden for over a year? A few days ago, you invited every doctor in town, and they all said to prepare for the funeral. What, he hasn't breathed his last yet? He's got a tough life!"

The servants behind him also burst into laughter.

"You!" Uncle Zhong trembled with rage, pointing at Steward Wang Fu. "You… stop spouting nonsense and disrupting our business!"

"Business?" Steward Wang Fu walked over to a rice measure filled with new rice, extended a foot clad in a silk shoe, and kicked it directly.

Crash! A full measure of snowy white rice instantly poured out, scattering all over the floor. The pristine grains mixed with the dust on the ground, trampled under everyone's feet.

The other shop assistants gathered around, their eyes wide with rage.

"Steward Wang Fu! You have gone too far!" Uncle Zhong was so angry his eyes were splitting.

"And if I bully you, so what?" Steward Wang Fu ground the rice grains on the floor with his toe and said leisurely, "I came here today to inform you. The feng shui of this Gu Family shop is bad and has offended my master. From today on, this shop will be managed by our Wang family. Consider it us accumulating some virtue for your Gu Family."

"If you are sensible, pack your things and get out. If you are not…" His fierce gaze swept over every assistant present, "…then we will break your legs and throw you out."

This was no longer a provocation; it was blatant robbery.

"Pah!" Uncle Zhong spat on the ground. "As long as I, Old Zhong, am here for one more day, you won't touch a single hair of this shop! This is the property of the Gu Family, bought with the life of Young Master Changfeng!"

"Old thing, you refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit!" Steward Wang Fu's face darkened, his patience exhausted. He suddenly raised his foot and kicked Uncle Zhong hard in the chest.

With a dull thud, Uncle Zhong, who was advanced in years, could not withstand such a heavy blow. He flew backward and crashed heavily into the shelf behind him. The shelf swayed, and the account books and abacus scattered all over the floor.

"Uncle Zhong!" "Let's fight them!" The young assistants, blood rushing to their heads, roared and prepared to charge.

"Get them all! Beat them to death!" Steward Wang Fu sneered and waved his hand.

The servants behind him had long been unable to hold back and pounced like wolves and tigers. These servants were all local hoodlums and ruffians, their blows heavy and ruthless. Although the shop assistants were numerous, they were all honest, law-abiding businessmen and were no match for them.

In an instant, the shop was filled with cries, curses, and the dull thuds of fists hitting flesh.

Uncle Zhong struggled to crawl up from the ground. Ignoring the blood at the corner of his mouth, he clutched the most important general ledger tightly to his chest.

Steward Wang Fu walked over and stepped on his back, pinning him back to the ground.

"Old thing, still protecting this useless ledger? Times have changed! The sky over the Gu Family has collapsed!" He ground his shoe sole hard against the back of Uncle Zhong's head, his tone filled with glee. "Once that old thing Gu Yan dies, his pretty widowed daughter-in-law will have to obediently crawl into our young master's bed, won't she? By then, the entire Gu Family will belong to our Wang family!"

"You… you… will come to no good end…" Uncle Zhong's face was buried in the cold ground and rice grains. His voice was muffled, yet filled with bone-deep hatred.

"Still got a hard mouth!" Steward Wang Fu applied more force with his foot.

Outside the shop, more and more neighbors gathered to watch, but no one dared to step forward to intervene. The Wang family held absolute power in Luoyun Town, and no one wanted to invite trouble upon themselves.

Amidst the chaos, a young assistant about sixteen or seventeen years old, who was usually the sharpest, named Xiaoliu, was kicked into a corner by a servant. Taking advantage of the moment the other party went to beat someone else, he gritted his teeth, endured the excruciating pain, and crawled on his hands and feet toward the back door of the shop.

He looked at the mess on the floor, at his companions beaten until their heads were bloody, and at Uncle Zhong, who was being trampled underfoot and whose life or death was uncertain. His eyes turned red.

He knew that fighting these people head-on was useless. He had to report the news! The Old Ancestor! Only the Old Ancestor could save the Gu Family!

Xiaoliu scrambled out the back door and plunged into the narrow alleyway. He dared not take the main road and had to weave through the maze-like alleys, nearly falling several times.

His lungs burned with pain, and every breath tasted of blood. But he dared not stop.

"Faster! Faster!" "Must make it in time!" This was the only thought remaining in his mind.

After passing through the last alley, the familiar black gate of the Gu Family mansion finally appeared in his field of vision.

Xiaoliu used his last bit of strength to rush over, his heavy body slamming hard against the gate. "Open the door! Open the door quickly!"

The gatekeeper was startled by the sudden banging and quickly slid back the bolt.

As soon as the door cracked open, Xiaoliu tumbled in. He was covered in dirt, his face bruised black and blue, with blood still hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Xiaoliu? How did you…"

Xiaoliu did not have time to answer. He struggled to crawl up from the ground, pushed past the gatekeeper, and stumbled toward the main courtyard.

He immediately saw Shen Qingxue walking out of the main house, and… following behind Shen Qingxue, that tall, upright figure with a ruddy complexion and a spirited demeanor… a man?

Xiaoliu's mind momentarily went blank. That person… was the Old Ancestor? How could that be?!

But at this moment, he had no time to ponder these things.

"Young… Young Mistress!" Xiaoliu scrambled to the bottom of the steps and fell to his knees with a thud. With a sobbing, hoarse voice, he shouted: "Old… Old Ancestor! Young Mistress! It's bad! The Wang family… the Wang family people are smashing our shop! Uncle Zhong… Uncle Zhong… he is about to be beaten to death!"