“This is my turf—why can’t I come here?” Blake Clark brazenly glanced around, a mocking sneer on his face. “Go tell that old man Liang: within ten days, if he can’t come up with a hundred strings of rent, he’d better get out of Taiping Alley!”

Seeing Brian Clark frown, a servant behind Blake Clark immediately jumped in, boasting, “My young master just spent a hundred and twenty strings to buy this courtyard. From now on, it belongs to him! That old man Liang still owes a month’s rent, plus the whole coming year’s—my young master is being generous, only asking for a hundred strings! If he can’t pay, he’d better pack up and get out!”

Having lived two lives, Brian Clark saw through such petty tricks at a glance, but he only smiled slightly and said, “So that’s how it is. Third Brother, you have a good eye—this courtyard has a great location, great orientation, and even better feng shui. Did you buy it to renovate and move in after you get married?”

At this, Blake Clark flew into a rage, his finger nearly jabbing Brian Clark in the face. “As if I’d ever fancy such a dump!”

“In that case, Third Brother, you’re really willing to spend!” Brian Clark’s expression didn’t change at all. Noticing the curious glances from the neighbors and passersby, he deliberately raised his voice, “A rundown courtyard, and Third Brother actually spent over a hundred strings to buy it—how extravagant. The main branch of the Xu family isn’t short on money, but spending so much on a broken-down place, while last time claiming there was no money for the clan school’s repairs—that’s really odd.”

“You…” Blake Clark saw even more eyes turning their way, and was so angry he was practically fuming. But with important matters at hand, and knowing that if he acted rashly his father would surely beat him again, he could only snort, beckon to his two servants, and say, “Enough, I don’t have time to bicker with you, nor do I care to waste my time in this dump! You two, come collect the rent on time—if you don’t get the money, tear this place down!”

“Yes, young master!”

Watching the three of them storm off, Brian Clark was about to turn back into the courtyard when, glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Grant Clark, who should have been passed out drunk in bed, had somehow come out and was standing dazed at the gate. The two locked eyes; seeing Grant Clark’s face still flushed and reeking of alcohol, Brian Clark approached apologetically.

He had just called out “Uncle,” when Grant Clark waved him in and shut the gate, then snorted, “A few days ago, several old customers stopped hiring me to fetch water—I knew someone was up to no good, and now it’s clear. This rundown courtyard was only three hundred cash a month in rent. If he wants to buy it, let him. Worst case, I’ll just stay with an old friend nearby for a few days.”

“Forget it, forget it, I don’t want some nasty guest coming after me for a hundred strings of rent!”

Hearing this, Brian Clark looked up and saw a bald head peeking over the wall. At first glance, it was nothing special, but on closer look, he noticed several burn scars on the shiny scalp and was startled. The bald man then vaulted over the wall in a single leap, his indeterminate-colored robe looking like a monk’s habit. Before Brian Clark could ask, the middle-aged monk strolled over.

“I thought Eighth Clark had gotten lucky, meeting some generous benefactor who treated him to wine and meat, but turns out it’s just someone bringing big trouble. Eighth Clark, sorry, I was hoping to live here quietly for a few more years—I don’t want to mess with the local bullies, the The Clark Family. And as for you, Seventh Young Master Clark, don’t go wandering around like nothing’s wrong—your trouble is much bigger than Eighth Clark’s!”

Grant Clark, the one directly involved, didn’t seem to mind being rebuffed by the monk; he just gave a wry shrug. As an outsider, Brian Clark certainly wasn’t about to jump up and accuse anyone of disloyalty. But the last remark caught his attention. Still, since the monk was being so forward despite their shallow acquaintance, Brian Clark didn’t press, just nodded to show he understood. But while he held back, Grant Clark grabbed the monk and snapped, “Don’t leave things half-said! What trouble does Little Brian have? How come I don’t know?”

“Believe it or not. You spend your days running around Taiping Alley, but you only meet people of little consequence—of course you haven’t heard the news.”

The monk raised his eyebrows, then shook off Grant Clark’s hand with a flick of his sleeve. “Several elders of the The Clark Family are conspiring to hold a clan meeting and expel Seventh Young Master Clark, the thorn in their side. I hear they’re even roping in the The Sullivan Family. Doesn’t the The Sullivan Family have a marriage agreement with him? Now that their businesses are thriving, why would they care about a wastrel? Of course they’re happy to kick him while he’s down.”

“That old bastard? Back then, Second Elder Clark helped him a lot, and now he treats his benefactor’s son like this?”

“Ah, times change. Look, Seventh Young Master Clark doesn’t even bat an eye—why are you, an outsider, making a fuss?” The monk, half-smiling, walked up to Brian Clark and waved a hand in front of his face. “Seventh Young Master Clark, do you really not care, or are you so angry you can’t even speak?”