[Chapter 2]

"The people from the Dragon King Gang are here."

Mu Qingyao's face turned pale at the voice. She instantly knew what had happened. After all, people from the Dragon King Gang came almost every month. It was impossible for her not to be familiar with them.

"You go back inside the house," Xiao Fan said to Mu Qingyao. He knew that everyone in the Dragon King Gang was a ruthless killer. If Mu Qingyao was seen, who knew what might happen? The saying "beauty brings disaster" was eternal, after all.

"Alright," Mu Qingyao nodded without hesitation and obediently hid in the room.

Originally, paying the monthly protection fee was handled by Xiao Fan’s parents. But since they had passed away, the responsibility now fell to him.

Boom!

The ajar wooden door of the brick house was kicked open arrogantly. A tall, burly, middle-aged man in his thirties, with a rugged beard and a muscular frame, barged in. Three equally imposing men followed behind him.

Their eyes gleamed with a sinister light, and their presence exuded the cold aura of men who had taken lives. Their physical strength far surpassed that of ordinary fishermen.

"Kid, you’re bold. You knew we were coming, yet you still dared to close the door. What’s the matter? Trying to avoid paying your dues?" The middle-aged man glared at Xiao Fan fiercely, his presence emanating malice. His name was Zheng Wenbing, nicknamed “Master Bing.” He was a notorious leader of the Dragon King Gang, responsible for collecting payments in Osmanthus Village. Many fishermen had suffered severe beatings at his hands.

"Master Bing, how would I dare refuse to pay?" Xiao Fan said, taking a deep breath. "I’ve just recovered from a serious illness and didn’t have time to greet you. The money has been prepared for a long time. Please, accept it."

From his pocket, Xiao Fan pulled out a small cloth bag filled with copper coins—the last of his family’s savings.

Zheng Wenbing smirked. "Oh? You’re awfully compliant. I heard your parents passed away a few months ago, and the funeral must have cost you a fortune. Yet here you are, still able to pay up. Did you strike it rich by catching treasure fish?"

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His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Xiao Fan. Treasure fish were rare, highly prized creatures from Yunmeng Lake, with every part of their body worth a fortune. One fish could fetch at least ten taels of silver, enough to support a family for a year. But they were so scarce that catching one was almost a miracle.

Xiao Fan shook his head quickly. "How could that be? With my skills, even if I encountered a treasure fish, I wouldn’t be able to catch it. This money is simply the result of years of frugality."

Feigning fear, he added, "If I ever caught a treasure fish, I’d sell it to the Dragon King Gang immediately. I’d never dare to keep it for myself."

Xiao Fan’s performance was flawless. He knew this wasn’t an ordinary feudal dynasty—this was a world where warriors with extraordinary powers existed. Stories of warriors leaping over walls, wielding superhuman strength, and becoming invulnerable to weapons were common. The most powerful could fight armies singlehandedly and emerge unscathed.

Zheng Wenbing himself was a warrior, capable of overpowering dozens in close combat. Even his henchmen could fight ten men at once. Facing such power, resistance was futile.

"Good. You’re smart to know your place," Zheng Wenbing said, glancing around the shabby house. His suspicion eased. A family as poor as this couldn’t possibly be hiding a treasure fish.

"This 800-mile Yunmeng Lake belongs to the Dragon King Gang," Zheng Wenbing declared arrogantly. "All fish caught here—ordinary or treasure—must be sold to us. Anyone caught hiding treasure fish will be executed."

Xiao Fan nodded submissively, knowing this was the reality. The Dragon King Gang ruled Yunmeng Lake with an iron fist, demanding taxes and fees from all fishermen. Even the prices for their catches were dictated by the gang, leaving fishermen with barely 20–30% of their earnings.

"If everyone was as cooperative as you, our work would be much easier," Zheng Wenbing said with a smug grin. "If anyone dares trouble you, just mention my name."

Xiao Fan forced a polite smile. He knew better. The Dragon King Gang was diligent in extorting money but would vanish at the first sign of real trouble. Counting on their help was as futile as hoping fish would leap into his boat.

After making his empty promise, Zheng Wenbing and his men left. They had other fishermen to shake down.

As their footsteps faded, Mu Qingyao cautiously emerged from her hiding spot. "Brother Xiao, are they gone?" she asked nervously.

"They’re gone," Xiao Fan replied. Yet deep inside, he was seething. Being bullied like this ignited a fury within him. In his previous life, he’d never endured such humiliation. Though he remained calm outwardly, he vowed to settle this debt one day.

"But what do we do now?" Mu Qingyao said, her voice heavy with worry. "That payment took everything we had. We only have enough rice for three days. If we don’t earn more, we’ll starve."

Xiao Fan was about to respond when a sudden message echoed in his mind:

[You handed over the money willingly, satisfying Zheng Wenbing. He now sees you as harmless and obedient. By avoiding disaster, you have earned an eighth-grade opportunity and 100 luck points.]

"What?!" Xiao Fan’s mind raced. He recalled his unique destiny—a fate said to bring great blessings after surviving calamities. Could this be what it meant? Endure a crisis and gain a reward?

But what was this "eighth-grade opportunity"? And what could he do with luck points?

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