Chapter Seventy-Three: I Never Said I’d Give You a Share

Today, Ye Chen’s holiday came to an end. After reporting back to the office, he resumed his regular patrols.

What was once a team of three had, for the day, become a duo.

Before setting out, Ye Chen had already noticed that several members seemed to be missing from their group, including Chen Bingfeng, who usually partnered with them.

Glancing at Xu Fan, who was hunched against the biting wind, Ye Chen asked, “Where’s Aunt Chen today? Did she take time off for her period?”

Xu Fan tugged his collar high, hiding his mouth behind it as he shot Ye Chen a look, clearly in no mood to chat. Having just eaten breakfast, he was wary of the cold wind stirring up his stomach—he feared a bout of diarrhea.

Seeing no response after a while, Ye Chen bumped him with his shoulder and gave him a wink, urging him to speak up.

Xu Fan rolled his eyes, reluctantly turned around to face away from the wind, and began walking backwards as he finally replied, “The captain called her out for a task outside the city, and two others from our group went along!”

“What kind of task? How come I didn’t hear anything? Do you know?”

“How would I know? Aunt Chen’s lips are sealed. At most, she’ll talk after the job’s done.”

“That’s odd, isn’t it? Assignments are usually for three people, so why not send us?” Ye Chen wondered aloud.

They spent their days wandering the streets, to the point even the birds they walked were nearly featherless from boredom. Getting out of the city would be far more interesting—there might even be a chance to bag some wild game. That wild boar leg from before still lingered in Ye Chen’s memory.

“You, lately, are our Captain Lu’s prized hero, the star of the team. Besides, you just recovered from a serious injury; why would the captain send you out of the city?”

Ye Chen could hear the tinge of envy in his words.

As for the talk of being a hero or a favorite, none of it seemed to matter much to him. He wore a look that plainly said, “I don’t care.”

“Then why weren’t you sent out? You and Aunt Chen are the real veteran partners.”

Xu Fan’s cheeks flushed slightly—whether from holding it in or from the cold, it was hard to say. After a moment, he muttered, “I’ve had too much of this northwest wind lately. One gust and I get the runs. Not fit for fieldwork.”

Ye Chen clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh… Oh, shut your beak, will you? The captain clearly thinks you’re unreliable.

…

As evening drew near, darkness had already draped itself across the sky.

But for Xu Fan, a creature of the night, this was when his energy truly came alive.

“Hey! Let’s grab dinner together later,” he suggested. “With Aunt Chen gone today, I’ll call a couple of girls from Bar Street to join us. Let’s unwind.”

Ye Chen noticed the spark of excitement in Xu Fan’s eyes. “Just call one. I don’t need any company. Dinner’s on me.”

“I never said I’d share one with you, did I?”

Damn… I overestimated myself.

“You’ll pay for your own lady,” Ye Chen said, striding off and leaving Xu Fan behind.

Xu Fan hurried after him, chuckling, “So, what are we eating tonight?”

“A feast, for you!” Ye Chen replied.

Xu Fan fell silent.

Whenever there was a woman at the table, the atmosphere changed entirely. Someone would toast to eternity, another would pass the wine. Someone’s wandering hand would busily explore a thigh, while the lady responded with equal enthusiasm, generously opening up her charm.

She even fluttered her eyes, feigning innocence under the influence of wine, and threw teasing glances at Ye Chen.

From behind the bar, Zhou Peng watched the lively crowd play drinking games, occasionally coming over to offer a toast himself.

In the depths of winter, friends gathered, wine in hand, a flower at their side—what could be more delightful?

Dinner stretched on, morphing from an evening meal into a late-night gathering.

Ye Chen glanced at the time; it was getting late, and he needed to return to his cultivation.

Good times are always fleeting—most of life is spent in the dull, effortful struggle.

He took the initiative to settle the bill and was just about to suggest to Xu Fan that they leave when—

With a crash, the tavern’s wooden door was kicked open from outside.

A boisterous crowd surged in—nine people in all.

Everyone inside turned to look, their faces showing fear, disdain, or the urge to avoid trouble.

Ye Chen and Xu Fan exchanged a glance. Among the seven men and two women, they recognized quite a few of the men.

Zhou Peng, who had just been about to clear the table, frowned at the drunken newcomers. He, too, recognized them.

“Boss, give us a big table and bring out the wine!” shouted the man who’d kicked open the door, slinging an arm over his companion’s shoulder and raising his voice.

Zhou Peng turned to Ye Chen and said, “Sorry for the poor service tonight. Take care on your way home. I’ll get back to work.”

Ye Chen smiled, clapped Zhou Peng’s shoulder, and nodded.

…

Once everyone was settled, the clamor resumed.

“Boss, more wine, and some snacks!” someone called.

“Right away,” Zhou Peng replied.

“Boss, get some girls over here! A few of my brothers are still without company!” another voice shouted.

“Sorry, we don’t have any girls working here,” Zhou Peng explained as politely as possible.

One man jabbed a finger in their direction and demanded, “Why not? Isn’t there one right over there? What, you think you’re too good for us? Do you know who we are?”

He was pointing straight at Ye Chen, Xu Fan, and their companions, who were just about to leave.

To these new arrivals, the girl clinging to Xu Fan’s arm was clearly a bar hostess from Bar Street.

“Sorry, sir, that lady is a guest’s friend,” Zhou Peng replied, still striving for courtesy.

“Friend, my ass! She drinks with anyone. Let her join us,” someone jeered.

“Yeah, boss, look at her—she’s curvy, got a nice face, just your type, isn’t she?”

“Exactly. She’s already reserved for the boss.”

They roared with laughter, as if a single glance entitled them to treat any unfamiliar woman as their property.

Suddenly, one of them seemed to recognize someone. He leaned over, half-crouching to whisper in his leader’s ear, “Boss, that guy over there—he’s the one who stole our stone the other day!”

“Oh? Are you sure?” asked a rotund man sandwiched between two women. Even sitting down, he was a head shorter than the ladies beside him. But he seemed to relish this position—thanks to his height, all he had to do was turn his head left or right to be face-to-face with their ample bosoms.

This was Zhu Gan, Captain of Patrol Squad One from the Outer City.

And the man whispering in his ear had been one of the group who had attacked Little Lu Dan a few days earlier—the very patrolman whom Ye Chen had sent flying with a whip kick.

Ye Chen had used just enough skill to send him sprawling, so his injuries were minor—unlike the others, one of whom had suffered a shattered cheekbone and lost half his teeth, and another whose spinal injury left him unsure when he’d walk again.

Who could have predicted that the very lackey Ye Chen had spared would turn up again today, trailing after his master?