The Guandi Temple in Nancheng was modest in size, and the beams supporting its roof offered even less room to move.
Yet for Chen Mo, whose curiosity burned brighter than a bonfire, such discomforts and pungent odors were mere trifles.
After all, not everyone is granted a front-row seat to a clandestine underworld assembly—especially one on the brink of erupting into violence.
"They're about to throw down! It's about to explode!" Chen Mo murmured with glee, nearly tempted to toss down a match and ignite the powder keg below.
Judging from the gossip he'd gathered, this was a major summit of the Wuyitang—Nancheng's premier gang, devoted to Guandi and the code of loyalty. Yet ever since their former leader's bizarre demise, the brotherhood had begun to splinter.
Internally, power-hungry lieutenants like Chang Jinya were vying for control; externally, the rival Dongxing syndicate seized the chaos to encroach on their turf—using seduction, suppression, and bribery in equal measure.
Beset by internal strife and external threats, tensions flared. Eventually, it was Chang Jinya who proposed a sixteenth general assembly. Its unofficial theme? "Lurid and Violent."
They met at the Guandi Temple, a sacred place for Wuyitang—though in truth, which gang in the underworld doesn't revere Lord Guan?
"Guandi, oh mighty lord…" Chen Mo turned slightly and glanced toward the enshrined deity.
To his astonishment, the statue of Guandi gave the faintest nod—barely perceptible—and then resumed its dignified stillness.
"What power! A true master of stillness!" Chen Mo whispered, raising his thumb in admiration. Since Guan III had taken the statue's place, nearly two hours had passed without a single twitch.
Even more impressive was his method: somehow, he'd reverted to a perfect wooden guise, indistinguishable from the original.
"Does he… need to use the bathroom?" Chen Mo muttered to himself, only to realize he, too, was feeling a rather urgent call of nature.
But escape was no longer an option—the atmosphere below had grown even more combustible, like a melee over the Dragon-Slaying Saber in some martial arts epic.
Though all paid homage to Guandi and professed loyalty, personal ambition now reigned. The gang leaders hurled accusations and flattery alike, desperate to tilt the vote in their favor.
Chang Jinya, ever the schemer, slung mud at Scar Liu with gusto, swearing he'd taken Dongxing's silver and was now a traitor to Wuyitang.
"Damn it all!" Scar Liu slammed his chest with both palms, shouting, "I swear I did nothing! Shall I take an oath before Lord Guan himself?"
"What good is an oath, if words alone could absolve guilt?" the others muttered uncertainly.
Indeed, swearing before Guandi was the gravest vow in their world. But in this day and age, did oaths carry any true weight?
To be blunt—if you'd done wrong, could Guandi really smite you where you stood?
"Who's to say he couldn't?" a pudgy man suddenly murmured, blowing lazy smoke rings into the tense air. "You never know…"
"What do you mean?" Scar Liu froze mid-prayer, glancing over his shoulder.
"Nothing much. I believe in strange forces," the fat man said, rubbing his chubby face with a grin. "Ask Old Chang—he only wanted to smuggle antiques… and ended up streaking naked through the streets all night!"
"Bullshit!" Chang Jinya flushed crimson, furious. "I was supporting the Beijing Olympics! Promoting green living!"
"Is that so?" the crowd exchanged odd glances. Then why, come morning, did he hire hundreds of monks to surround his home like a fortress?
"My base was upgrading! I was recruiting monk troops!" Chang Jinya shouted, slipping into gamer lingo, though even he couldn't suppress the twitch of muscle at the memory of his nighttime dash.
His bizarre expression drew nervous chuckles, and a collective shiver swept the hall. All eyes turned to Scar Liu, who was still kneeling before Guandi.
"What are you looking at?" Scar Liu barked, visibly trembling but putting on a brave face. "I've done no wrong! I sleep well at night! What do I have to fear?"
Puffing his chest, he knelt and offered nine solemn bows to the deity.
From the rafters, Chen Mo could only shake his head. "Guandi III's struck gold today," he mused. "People are kowtowing, and he doesn't even have to hand out red envelopes."
Scar Liu then planted incense in the burner, raised his hand to the heavens, and solemnly vowed, "Before Lord Guan, I, Scar Liu, declare my unwavering loyalty. If I speak falsely, may I be struck by lightning, dismembered by a thousand blades, or worse—forced to marry Sister Furong!"
"What a vicious oath!" the gangsters gasped. Even poison didn't pack such punch.
Chen Mo was still reeling when Benben beside him muttered, "Boss, look over there…"
"Huh?" Chen Mo followed his gaze.
At that moment, a faint creaking filled the air—the beam beneath them was cracking. The fissure spread like wildfire.
Benben crept backward. "Boss, should we maybe find—"
"BOOM!"
The beam gave way. Chen Mo had no time to react. Instinctively, he grabbed Benben, but gravity claimed them both.
With a thunderous crash, he landed flat on a table below.
Gasps rang out. In a blink, dozens of pistols aimed at his skull.
"Don't move! Who the hell are you?!"
"A man!" Chen Mo raised his hands meekly, avoiding the icy barrels.
"Smartass!" Chang Jinya snarled. "I meant, what the hell do you do?!"
"Well…" Chen Mo hesitated, then lifted his notebook with a serene smile. "I sell adult films."
"…What?" Chang Jinya blinked, digging at his ear.
"Adult films!" Chen Mo opened his laptop, speaking earnestly. "I've long admired you all, so I risked my life to sneak into the temple…"
"Seriously?" The mobsters were dumbfounded. Was he here for autographs?
"Wait a minute…" Chang Jinya rubbed his face, squinting. "Why do you look so familiar?"
"Of course I do!" Chen Mo beamed. "And you—you're the legendary Chang Jinya, the man known far and wide as 'a single pear blossom bending the crabapple tree,' aren't you?"
"…I am?" Chang Jinya grinned ear to ear, exposing crooked teeth. "Am I really that charming? Wait—damn it! Quit distracting me! Give me that notebook!"
He snatched the laptop, opened it—then froze.
Moments later, all present stared at Chen Mo with wide-eyed reverence.
By heaven! This man had curated such a godlike collection—he could easily be crowned one of the ten most distinguished entrepreneurs in the adult film industry.
"So… you burned these onto discs to sell?" Chang Jinya whispered, gulping. "Listen, don't bother with discs. Just send them to me directly. I'll give you my QQ number."
"You watch these too?" Chen Mo blinked in disbelief. Weren't gangsters supposed to have their pick of women?
"It's different!" Chang Jinya flushed. "It's not the same as real life. Otherwise, why would married men…"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, are we done yet?" Scar Liu could no longer contain himself. He marched forward and jabbed his gun into Chen Mo's chest. "You little shit, I'm not as gullible as Chang! I go to the computer market all the time—never seen you selling anything!"
"You go to the market too, Liu?" Chen Mo asked, eyes gleaming.
The other gangsters glanced at each other, then nodded in understanding.
Scar Liu flushed, muttering, "So what? I buy pirated games, alright?"
Sure. Absolutely. No one said a word—but their smirks widened.
Then Chang Jinya clapped his forehead, his eyes narrowing at Chen Mo. "Wait. I heard someone recently monopolized the market—drove all the adult film sellers out of business!"
"What? Could it be you?" the others chimed in, suddenly eager, voices overlapping.
Soon, the conversation shifted from market monopolies to their favorite actresses, debating whether story-driven or costume-themed films were trending.
As terms like "Ai Iijima" and "Sora Aoi" began flying, Chen Mo wondered if he'd stumbled into the wrong room—
My God. Was this a criminal summit or the Chinese edition of The Sorrows of Young Werther?
Just then, the fat man slammed the table. "Enough! Take him outside!"
That snapped them back to reality. A few awkward coughs later, orders were given. Several henchmen moved to seize Chen Mo's notebook—whether to inspect for weapons or marvel at its contents was unclear.
"Wait! This notebook is a family heirloom!" Chen Mo clutched it tightly, dodging their hands.
Suddenly, a cold, mechanical voice rang in his ear: "Raise your left hand. Now."
"What?" Chen Mo froze, instinctively obeying before he could process the command.
In that instant, a surge of force exploded from the notebook, striking his chest and hurling him through the air.