Ye Old Six

For the entire next day, Chen Fengyun spent his time in Feng Tianbao’s small shop, appraising over a thousand antique objects from various dynasties, focusing mainly on those from before the Ming Dynasty, since items from Qing Dynasty tombs rarely contained artifacts left by cultivators. To his quiet satisfaction, among the thousand pieces he examined, he actually discovered one infused with special energy—a Han Dynasty sculpture of the sage Laozi. The unique energy within it was converted into four attribute points.

Though he had devoted an entire day to this pursuit, gaining four attribute points was a tremendous reward for Chen Fengyun. He understood how difficult cultivation was in this era of spiritual decline, and the process of slowly gathering attribute points, little by little, brought him a sense of joy.

After returning home, Chen Fengyun told his parents that he had arranged to travel to Hangzhou for a few days with some classmates. His father and mother, still delighted by his recent enthusiasm, gave their consent after a few reminders, and even prepared to give him two thousand yuan for expenses.

“You don’t need to give me any money,” he told them. “I’ve been studying antiques in the market these days and managed to stumble upon a real treasure. A wealthy collector bought it for several hundred thousand. There’s two hundred thousand in this card—the password is Mom’s birthday. I’m leaving it for you. Don’t scrimp and save anymore; the money I have left is more than enough for my four years at university.”

He had fabricated a story, claiming the money he had earned in Yunnan was actually from a lucky find at the antique market. Given that similar stories had happened before in Chengdu, his parents believed him, especially since he had indeed been frequenting the antiques market lately.

Moreover, his parents already knew he had chosen to study archaeology at the Imperial University. Although they had voiced a few complaints, they hadn’t truly objected, and so paid little attention to his daily excursions to study antiques.

“Son, you’re grown now. Arrange your own affairs; we won’t interfere so much anymore,” his parents sighed.

“Mom, Dad, just wait and enjoy life. When you have free time, travel together—don’t save for my sake anymore. In the future, I’ll make money to support you,” Chen Fengyun replied with a smile.

Hangzhou, established as a county seat during the Qin Dynasty, boasts a history of over 2,200 years. It once served as the capital of the Wuyue Kingdom and the Southern Song Dynasty. Famous for its picturesque scenery, Hangzhou has long been praised as “Heaven on Earth.” Benefiting from the Grand Canal, its open trading ports, and thriving silk and grain industries, it has historically been a major commercial hub.

Rich in cultural sites, Hangzhou’s West Lake and its surroundings are dotted with natural and historical landmarks. The city is renowned for its distinctive West Lake culture, Liangzhu culture, silk heritage, and tea traditions, as well as the many legends that have become emblematic of Hangzhou’s identity.

On June 28th, Chen Fengyun and Feng Tianbao set out for Hangzhou, with one of Feng’s men driving. The journey from Chengdu took nearly twenty hours, and they arrived around midnight.

“Uncle Feng, are we staying at a hotel?” asked Chen Fengyun.

“No need,” Feng Tianbao replied, shaking his head with a smile. “Our old Six, a descendant of Uncle Thirteen, has an estate right by West Lake. We’ll stay there for the next few days. And he’s an excellent cook, so you’re all in for a treat.”

In truth, Chen Fengyun didn’t yet fully understand the Southern Branch. With a heritage spanning centuries, though it had waned some, the Southern Branch had long integrated into society. Aside from occasionally taking on jobs for little or no pay, each member had their own business ventures and focused mainly on their personal enterprises.

The core members of the Southern Branch numbered in the dozens. Besides Uncle Thirteen, Feng Tianbao’s generation was the most senior, with five individuals still active, and there were even more among the younger generation. When all their strength was combined, they wielded considerable influence across the southern provinces and had ties across all levels of society.

However, their intentions were not malicious. Their goals were to preserve the family legacy and pursue their various professions. As a result, they had a good reputation, and even the authorities were aware of their existence—sometimes seeking their help with certain matters.

Take Feng Tianbao’s generation, for example: each was well-known in their respective fields. Feng Tianbao was an authority in the antiques world; the third brother was involved in entertainment; the fourth managed underground circles; the sixth was a culinary king; and the eighth monopolized most of the seafood market in Hainan.

“Hahaha! Second Brother, Uncle Thirteen is thrilled to hear you’re coming. I’ve already prepared food and wine, and have been waiting for you for over an hour,” announced a stout man who approached as soon as they drove into the Cloud and Mist Estate by West Lake. He gave Feng Tianbao a hug.

“Old Six, you’re still the same, even at your age,” Feng Tianbao laughed, patting him on the back before gently pushing him away.

“Hello, Uncle,” a young man in his twenties greeted respectfully from behind the stout man. He was of medium build but sharp and energetic, with pronounced temples that marked him as a martial artist.

“Lin Chuan! It’s been a while—you’ve grown stronger,” Feng Tianbao said, giving him a friendly punch in the chest. The young man barely budged, which seemed to please Feng Tianbao greatly.

“Greetings, Second Uncle!”

Several other men, both young and middle-aged, stepped forward to pay their respects, each looking at Feng Tianbao with unmistakable reverence.

“Let me introduce you,” Feng Tianbao said, turning to the stout man. “This is Chen Fengyun, our young friend. And this is our Old Six, Ye Mingfu. He’s called Old Six, but friends on the street call him Sixth Master.”

“Welcome to Hangzhou, Brother Chen,” Ye Mingfu greeted, stepping forward with a smile and offering his hand.

“Hello, Uncle Ye. Sorry to trouble you,” Chen Fengyun replied, shaking his hand.

“This is my son, Ye Linchuan. You’re all young men—get to know each other,” Ye Mingfu said, pulling the young man over.

“Hello, Brother Ye,” Chen Fengyun greeted first, noticing the other’s awkwardness—uncertain how to address him, since both Feng Tianbao and Ye Mingfu called him ‘little brother.’

“Hello, welcome,” Ye Linchuan replied, opting to forgo a formal address.

“Come, all of you, greet Young Master Chen,” Ye Mingfu instructed.

“Greetings, Young Master Chen,” the group of young and middle-aged men said respectfully. Their deference was clearly out of respect for Feng Tianbao and Ye Mingfu, not Chen Fengyun himself.

Linchuan then personally led everyone to their rooms so they could freshen up. Afterwards, they gathered in a private dining room downstairs, where a lavish banquet awaited, served by three or four young and beautiful attendants.