The residential area where Fang Yong lived was separated from the outside by a small river several meters wide to the west. Fang Chao, already familiar with the surrounding terrain, led Liu Zhi to the riverbank where a small garbage-cleaning canoe was tied. They untied the rope, jumped into the boat, and after a few haphazard strokes, reached the opposite shore. There, a green tree-lined buffer zone stood, and once they pushed through it, they were inside the community.
They headed straight for Fang Yong’s residence—a five-story building where Fang Yong occupied the first floor, complete with a small 20-square-meter backyard garden.
After cautiously surveying their surroundings and confirming no one was around and no surveillance cameras were in sight, they quickly climbed into the garden and crouched by the wall. Slowly rising, they peered through the window and observed for a while—no one was home. Time was of the essence, so they got to work. Initially planning to pick the lock, they were delighted to find the crescent lock on the window wasn’t fully secured. Liu Zhi pulled out a U-shaped wire, inserted it into the gap between the window panes, and after a few probes, completely disengaged the crescent lock. They then pulled the window open and jumped inside. To avoid leaving traces, they even put on specially prepared shoe covers before closing the window behind them.
Now, it was time for the treasure hunt!
Exchanging a grin, they stepped further in and scanned the entire house, though it didn’t quite match their expectations.
The house was about 150 square meters, with an additional basement—not exactly small in size. But damn, the interior design was way too frugal!
The floors were covered in grimy tiles, the walls were bare concrete, and a few calligraphy scrolls and plaques hung here and there, looking downright shabby. The furniture was sparse, mostly wooden and seemingly aged, and the items on the tables were all outdated.
Nothing about the place screamed luxury, let alone screamed "corrupt official." Sure, you wouldn’t expect an ashtray in a corrupt official’s home to be made of gold, but at the very least, the decor should meet hotel standards. This place, however, was worse than a cheap motel.
Liu Zhi couldn’t help but complain, “Brother Chao, did you pick a corrupt official or Jiao Yulu?”
Fang Chao shot him a glare, his face darkening as he picked up an enamel mug from the table. Tea leaves floated inside, and the mug bore a classic portrait of Chairman Mao with the words “Long Live Chairman Mao” printed on it. Taking a deep breath, he muttered resentfully, “Disguise! The bigger the corrupt official, the better they disguise themselves. He can’t just leave his money lying around, or he’d have been reported long ago! There’s gotta be a room stuffed with cash somewhere. Keep looking—especially the ceilings, under the mattresses, and hidden compartments in the walls. Don’t miss a single spot.”
Without another word, the two began darting between rooms, meticulously searching every possible hiding spot. They wanted to check the ceilings, but the entire house had raw concrete slabs overhead. As for mattresses—what mattresses? The beds were all wooden planks! They tapped every inch of the concrete walls with their fingers but didn’t find a single damn hidden compartment.
After over ten minutes, they regrouped, their faces etched with frustration and disbelief.
A clean official—this fat guy was actually a clean official. The only cash in the entire house was a few hundred yuan left on the shoe rack by the door. Not a single extra cent was to be found!Fang Chao's expression was grim, while Liu Zhi kept cursing Fang Yong as a bastard, making Fang Chao feel that Liu Zhi was indirectly insulting him. Just as the two were at a loss about how to wrap up this mess, voices and footsteps suddenly sounded at the door.
Amidst a round of polite laughter, Fang Yong opened the door and ushered in Zhou Rong and Hu Jianren.
"Teacher Fang, your home is truly—" Zhou Rong stood at the doorway, scanning the room as he prepared to flatter, only to realize this place could hardly be called decorated. Noticing a few calligraphy and paintings hanging on the wall, he finally found something to praise, "It exudes a rustic cultural charm."
Hearing this, Fang Yong paused mid-step. After a long moment, he nodded at Zhou Rong. "Boss Zhou, you have a keen eye!"
Zhou Rong was puzzled about what eye he supposedly had when Fang Yong enthusiastically led them to the living room to sit. From a black pottery jar resembling a pickling crock, Fang Yong scooped out a spoonful of peat-like tea leaves and deliberately held it up to Zhou Rong. "Boss Zhou, what do you think of this tea?"
"This tea..." Zhou Rong thought to himself, How can this shit-like stuff be called tea? Out loud, he said, "This tea must be quite aged, right?"
"Keen eye again!" Fang Yong nodded at him once more, even more pleased, and chuckled. "This is Dark Brick Tea from the 1950s. The flavor is quite unique."
As Fang Yong brewed the tea with great interest, he showed off his knowledge of tea culture. At first, Zhou Rong thought there might be hidden meanings or hints in his words, but after listening for a while, he realized Fang Yong was genuinely just talking about tea.
Finally, when the tea was ready, Zhou Rong took a sip and insincerely praised how different it was from anything he'd tasted before, making Fang Yong beam with pride. Seizing the moment while Fang Yong was in good spirits, Zhou Rong steered the conversation toward business. After a few pleasantries, he casually remarked with a smile, "Teacher Fang, given your refined cultural taste, you must have your own thoughts about the cultural industry park project the new district is about to launch, right?"
"Cultural industry park..." Fang Yong froze, setting down his teacup. After a pause, his smile faded slightly as he leaned back and studied Zhou Rong. "The industry park is a government investment project. I'm just here to assist the government. Whether I have thoughts on it or not isn't important—what matters is that the park is done well, using culture as a foundation to drive the new district's development. Why? Boss Zhou, bringing up the industry park so suddenly—do you have some ideas?"
Zhou Rong smiled modestly. "Our company has been deeply rooted in Three Rivers Estuary for many years, with extensive experience in project operations. Personally, I'm also very interested in cultural industries. To be frank, I’d love to contribute practically to cultural projects. I wonder—"
Fang Yong cut him off bluntly, his tone indifferent. "Let’s be honest—you’re just after the money, aren’t you?"
"Well..." Caught off guard by his attitude, Zhou Rong was left flustered and at a loss.
Fang Yong sighed. "The cultural industry park comes with substantial government funding and tax incentives. Plenty of companies are eyeing it greedily. From my perspective, doing the job right is what matters most. My biggest concern is developers cutting corners just to line their own pockets, ruining the whole thing in the end."Zhou Rong heard the phrase "only caring about making money for yourself" and, after a few seconds of thought, immediately understood the implication. He quickly declared, "Teacher, you can rest absolutely assured. No company can monopolize all the profits. If you allow me to operate this, I will certainly do it well and grow the pie. This pie isn’t just mine—everyone will have a share."
Fang Yong sneered, "And how do you plan to divide this pie?"
Zhou Rong was taken aback. Was this already an open demand for money? No prelude, no buildup—just straight to the point? The speed was almost overwhelming! After a moment’s consideration, he smiled and said, "To be honest with you, Teacher, our company has conducted a financial analysis of this project, and there are indeed profits to be made. If our company is allowed to handle it, we won’t hesitate to spend where necessary, including various... well, for instance, consulting fees for any company you designate—"
"Are you trying to give me money?" Fang Yong interrupted, his smile vanishing in an instant.
Seeing his expression, Zhou Rong was inwardly startled. Had Fang Yong been testing him all along, waiting to confirm his intent to bribe before turning hostile? Was he truly the Hai Rui of Three Rivers Estuary? Panic surged in Zhou Rong’s heart. What was he to do now that he’d crossed such a man?
Fang Yong stood up and walked over to a calligraphy piece on the wall, pointing at it. "Boss Zhou, come take a closer look."
Reluctantly, Zhou Rong rose and approached the wall, reading the inscription aloud: "'Ask the pond how it stays so clear—it’s because fresh water flows in from its source.'" He gasped, nearly dropping to his knees in apology. "Leader, I misspoke. That wasn’t my intention, I—"
"This is Yu Youren’s authentic work. That piece of yours is far too fake—just tear it up. Boss Zhou, come here. Look at this." Fang Yong moved to a bookshelf, opened a glass cabinet, and pointed at a palm-sized ashtray-like object. "A genuine Yuan blue-and-white Chilong double-eared three-legged tripod. I rarely show this to anyone. Oh, and that piece to your left is a small draft by Qi Baishi, from his younger days. The size and skill level are modest, but even a rough sketch by Qi Baishi is a rare treasure today. ... That’s Tang tri-color pottery—small in size, but priceless for its craftsmanship. And the chairs we were sitting on earlier—don’t let their age fool you. They’re Ming Dynasty Hainan rosewood. There’s even a bed next door that’s even rarer—I don’t dare sleep on it myself."
As Fang Yong recounted the origins of the seemingly ordinary items in the room, Zhou Rong and Hu Jianren exchanged stunned glances. Though they knew little about antiques, the mere names of these pieces told them that everything in this house was undoubtedly expensive. Even the unassuming black tiles on the floor were genuine ancient bricks specially sourced by Fang Yong—not replicas, but authentic cultural relics!
After leading them on a tour, Fang Yong turned back and said earnestly, "I’m different from others. I have no interest in money whatsoever. My only hobby is collecting. As you can see, everything in this room is where my passion lies."
Zhou Rong sighed deeply in admiration. "Teacher, you’re a true intellectual. Your mindset is on another level—I really must learn from you. Unlike a businessman like me, whose home is just piled with money. I must seem terribly vulgar in your presence."Fang Yong chuckled smugly, "I've never taken a single cent from anyone in my life, and I certainly won't make an exception for you. As for the things in this house, most were gifts. To be honest, my favorite has always been bronze artifacts, but all I have left now are small pieces. I used to have a bronze tripod in my basement—a treasure to ward off evil—but a high-ranking official took a liking to it recently, and I had to part with it reluctantly. Frankly speaking, if the pain of parting with it hadn't been so great, I wouldn't have let an outsider like you into my home. What I'd love most is to collect a set of chime bells. If I could have a set displayed here, my heart's desire would be fulfilled."
"A set of chime bells? Understood, understood!" Zhou Rong nodded repeatedly with a smile.
In the small garden behind the house, Fang Chao and Liu Zhi crouched by the wall, listening intently to everything inside, not daring to make a move.
They could tell there were three men in the house and worried that if someone suddenly opened the back door, they'd have no choice but to confront them. Though they had guns and weren't afraid of three men, making a scene was inevitable, and it might alert the security guards. They couldn't just shoot everyone chasing them, after all.
After a long wait, they finally heard the sounds of Fang Yong and Zhou Rong bidding farewell and leaving. Fang Chao and Liu Zhi quickly climbed over the garden wall to escape, retracing their steps out of the neighborhood before daring to exhale in relief. They exchanged glances and, after a few seconds, burst into laughter simultaneously.
Fang Chao mimicked Zhou Rong's voice, "As a businessman, my house is just filled with money—how vulgar I must seem in your presence."
Liu Zhi shook his head with a sigh, "This is the first time in my life I've seen an idiot brag about his wealth in front of two robbers. Chao, let's change targets."
Fang Chao nodded smugly, "That fat guy is definitely a corrupt official, just as I judged! But cultural relics aren't liquid assets—we can't sell them easily. Cold hard cash is what we need! That businessman is ours for the taking!"
After parting ways with Fang Yong, Zhou Rong got into his Mercedes and left the neighborhood. Once on the main road, the smile vanished from his face as he snapped at Hu Jianren, "You fucking spent five hundred thousand on a fake calligraphy piece and presented it as a gift? You've humiliated us beyond belief!"
Hu Jianren trembled as he explained, "I... I didn't know it was fake. I'll track down the seller and get the money back."
"If you can't get it back, you're paying out of your own pocket!" Zhou Rong gritted his teeth before adding, "We'll settle this later. Right now, where the hell are we going to find a set of chime bells? And remember—they have to be genuine!"
Hu Jianren, who knew nothing about antiques, pulled out his phone and searched Baidu, gasping in shock, "Chime bells aren't cheap."
"How not cheap?"
"Chime bells are bronze artifacts, and bronze artifacts are excavated relics—they can't be traded. The few that make it to auctions circulate overseas and cost at least tens of millions, with the expensive ones going for hundreds of millions."
"Tens of millions?" Zhou Rong sucked in a breath. "Fang claims he's not interested in money, but what he's asking for is a king's ransom. Still, it's fine—I'm not afraid of him demanding a high price, only that he might refuse to take it. Once we seal this deal with him, we'll have a lock on the Eastern New City's profits. We need to get those chime bells as soon as possible.""I know someone at Three Rivers Estuary called Brother Zheng. He used to deal in antiques and is familiar with people in that circle. I'll ask him, but—" Hu Jianren frowned with concern, "Rong-ge, Director Fang directly named his price during our first meeting. Isn't that too straightforward?"
Zhou Rong sneered and shook his head: "After all the times I've tried to arrange a meeting with him, he already knew my intentions—he was just waiting for us to come to him. Think about it, a set of chime bells worth tens of millions—why would he want a set of chime bells? That quote wasn't random. He's already calculated the profits from our entire project."
Hu Jianren couldn't help but sigh: "Who would've thought Fang Yong, a poet, could be so shrewd when it comes to money."
Zhou Rong snorted dismissively and concluded:
"He's a poet—just one without a soul."
At that moment, the driver suddenly spoke up: "Boss, there's a car following us."
"A car?" Zhou Rong glanced at the rearview mirror and noticed a beat-up Xiali trailing them.
Hu Jianren hesitated: "Could it be the police? But would the Public Security Bureau have such a rundown Xiali?"
"Uncle Dong was right," Zhou Rong gritted his teeth. "We know all the bureau's social vehicles. It must be that new Director Zhang, thinking he's clever by using some long-impounded car to tail us—as if we wouldn't notice!"
The driver asked, "Boss, should we lose them?"
"Why bother? That’d just make us look guilty. Drive slowly and let them follow."
In the Xiali behind them, Fang Chao stomped on the gas while keeping a firm grip on the handbrake in case he couldn't stop in time at intersections. After tailing them for a while, he finally exhaled in relief: "When I saw their Mercedes pull out, I thought we were done for—no way we could keep up. Luckily, the driver's a rookie. They're going so slow, haha!"
Fang Chao and his partner had set their sights on Zhou Rong, the local tyrant's money. But would they succeed?
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