Yongyang Square is located in the northwest corner of Yan Capital City, and it is a very inconspicuous little place.
Most of the residents here are peddlers and common people, not too poor, but far from wealthy.
After a night of rain, the roads of Yongyang Square were muddy and impassable.
Shang Jingchuan was trudging along with enough supplies for a day’s use.
If someone who knew him saw him at this moment, they would surely be shocked, unwilling to recognize him.
Because he was once Governor Shang, someone who paid great attention to appearance, always maintaining cleanliness and propriety no matter the situation.
Yet now, he appeared unkempt, with a scruffy beard, messy hair, and wearing a worn-out long robe. At a glance, he looked like a destitute scholar.
Finally walking out of the muddy section, Shang Jingchuan arrived at a tiny inn, wiped the mud off his shoes on the doorstep, and slowly stepped inside.
"Old man, why are you back so early today?" The inn’s attendant greeted him with a smile.
Calling him an attendant is a stretch; this inn was so small that including the shopkeeper, there were only two people, and they were a father and son.
So, this boy, just fifteen or sixteen, also served as the inn’s young shopkeeper.
"Hmm, there weren’t many people at the market today, so I bought some supplies and came back early," Shang Jingchuan said, handing over the items in his hands.
The young attendant deftly took them, opened the package for a look, and then asked, "The usual?"
"Yes, the usual will do."
"Alright!"
The young attendant took the items and went into the kitchen.
Despite his young age, his cooking skills were quite decent.
To save money, Shang Jingchuan often bought ingredients himself and had this young man do some processing for him.
Shang Jingchuan went to the counter, poured himself a pot of tea, and sat down in a chair to drink it slowly.
This nameless little inn naturally couldn’t afford good tea; it was mostly what was left over at the tea shop, mixed together and sold off.
The advantage was that it was cheap, and sometimes, if you were lucky, you could get some decent tea leaves. The downside was that the flavor varied greatly.
At first, Shang Jingchuan found it hard to swallow, but after getting used to it over these days, he suddenly thought this soy sauce-like tea wasn’t so bad.
While sipping his tea, the inn’s shopkeeper came in from outside.
The inn’s shopkeeper’s surname was Bai, but Shang Jingchuan never asked for his full name, so he always called him Shopkeeper Bai.
Shopkeeper Bai was in his forties, but whether due to hard living or some other reason, his back was already hunched, his hair greying, and with a perpetually worried face, he looked almost like an old man of sixty.
But today, Shang Jingchuan noticed something different because Shopkeeper Bai looked even more worried than usual, as if the concern was overflowing from his face.
He hunched over, approaching Shang Jingchuan, sat down, drank a bowl of tea, and then wiped his mouth.
"Old friend, I’m really sorry, but you have to move out today."
"Move out? Why do I have to move out? I didn’t owe you any rent?" Shang Jingchuan asked, bewildered.
When he "ran away from home," he had some money with him. Although not much, it was enough for a place like this.
"It’s not that you owe me rent, but honestly, this inn... I can’t keep it open any longer!"
At the end of his words, Shopkeeper Bai’s voice was sorrowful, tears welling up in his eyes.
"What happened?" Shang Jingchuan couldn’t help but ask.
"Sigh, don’t ask. Asking won’t help. I won’t charge you for the past few days’ stay; just hurry up and move out."
After saying that, Shopkeeper Bai got up and staggered away.
Watching his retreating figure, Shang Jingchuan felt puzzled.
Although this little inn was shabby, it was clean and had been passed down as ancestral property from Shopkeeper Bai’s family.
Moreover, since they didn’t hire anyone and did everything themselves, the expenses were minimal, so despite having few guests, they could still make ends meet.
How come it was doing fine before, and now suddenly it has to close down?
As he was wondering, he suddenly heard an argument coming from the kitchen, and then he saw the young attendant rush out, brandishing a kitchen knife.
Shopkeeper Bai hugged him tightly from behind, tears streaming down his face, pleading, "Son, you can’t go. If you go, you’ll be risking your life."
"Father, let go of me. Those people are targeting our inn, and if I don’t vent this anger, I can’t stand it."
The usually amiable young attendant now had red eyes and a somewhat ferocious look on his face.
"What can you use to fight them? They have the backing of the Four Seas Gang. Accept it; at worst, we’ll move to the countryside," Shopkeeper Bai cried.
Perhaps the mention of the Four Seas Gang had an effect, for the young attendant suddenly froze, the kitchen knife clattering to the ground, and then he slowly crouched down, covering his face and crying bitterly.
Shang Jingchuan stood by, thoroughly perplexed, though the name Four Seas Gang was clear to him.
He couldn’t understand how this little inn would get involved with the Four Seas Gang.
So he stepped forward, helping up the equally disheartened Shopkeeper Bai from the floor.
"Old friend, what’s really going on? Can you tell me?"
"Sigh, well, since you’re insisting, I’ll tell you."
Then Shopkeeper Bai simply recounted the events.
It turns out there was a gang of thugs in Yongyang Square led by someone named Bai Laosan.