Rewards and Reckoning

It was nothing more than a little wind and frost, leaving a smudge on the hem of his coat. As the second glass of liquor went down, the applause in the banquet hall thundered on without end. The opening drama, so meticulously prepared, had never even had the chance to play out; the storm had been thoroughly quelled the instant it stirred. Once the corpse was dragged away, it was as if nothing had happened at all. The music resumed, the dancing continued, and the clamor grew even wilder than before. Just as the atmosphere reached its fever pitch, under the eager anticipation of every eye in the room, Ling Shuo stepped back up onto the stage, his smile warmer and more cordial than ever. "I thank you all for your generous support and favor. The Seven Islands Commerce Association is newly founded, and a single tree cannot make a forest; going forward, I will still need to lean on each and every one of you." Pausing for a fraction of a second, he opened the roster in his hands and said slowly, "Next, I have a few personnel appointments to announce. Those whose names are called, please step forward." In an instant, you could have heard a pin drop in the hall. Everyone turned toward the stage with wide eyes, breaths catching in fervent anticipation. At last, it had arrived! The time to reward merit and distribute the spoils had come! "Jiwen." The first name called was, without question, his number-one confidant. In a flash, a figure who had been waiting for this moment pushed through the crowd, striding onto the stage with head held high and chest puffed out, before bowing low and offering his submission. "Don't be so serious. Today's my birthday—everyone should be in good spirits," Ling Shuo said, patting him on the shoulder. "All your blood, sweat, and tears over these past days haven't gone unnoticed by anyone. Keep up the good work. Going forward, Seven Islands Logistics will be relying on your continued dedication to manage the phlogiston supply." "Yes, sir! Yes, sir!" Jiwen nodded vigorously, beaming from ear to ear as he swallowed whole the choice cut of meat handed to him. "Mafizdin!" Ling Shuo called out the second name and warmly draped an arm around the young man's shoulders. "When the young get to work, they don't always know their own strength and can easily ruffle feathers. Everyone seated here is your elder, and they will surely show you patience and understanding from now on." Ling Shuo threw his full authority behind everything his subordinate had done: "The association always has dirty, grueling work to handle, and being unyielding is the right way to go about it. You've done well." He told him, "From now on, the dock security is yours. Put your back into it, understand?" "Yes, sir!" The dark-skinned, curly-haired young man nodded repeatedly. When he turned to look down at the floor, he held his head high and grinned from ear to ear. "Pishka, you've contributed a great deal. Going forward, the association's sponsorship management will be in your hands—keep giving it your all. "Xi Xian, working hard is a virtue. Fighting on despite repeated setbacks, never giving up—that makes a real man. Don't worry about those petty losses; the association will never forget what you've done. Ma Island is a fine place to temper a man. Show everyone what you can achieve there. "Lanse, to forsake the dark and step into the light, earning merit to redeem past faults—that's no easy feat. Going forward, the rubble and waste disposal that Rutswan used to handle is yours." One after another, the core pillars of the Seven Islands Commerce Association walked up, receiving their promotions and rewards, solidifying their standing, their faces flushed red with excitement. "Every one of you is my right hand, my trusted confidant, my brother. I never hog the table for myself—when there's meat and broth, we share the meat and drink the broth together!" Ling Shuo's smile suddenly vanished, replaced by an icy, solemn severity. "There is only one rule: do not embarrass me, and do not make me lose face before Mr. Ji. Never forget who gave you everything you eat, drink, and enjoy. Understood?!" "Understood!!!" A thunderous, unified roar erupted, rattling the entire venue. Countless guests raised their glasses in celebration, showering them with congratulations. As for what lurked beneath the smiles—jealousy, bitterness, or cold terror—it had become impossible to tell. Amid the clamor, Himawan sneered from the Wild Gathering table. "Carving up the Seven Cities already? Celebrating a little too early..." Abadesa's expression remained indifferent, swirling the red wine in his glass without a word. Aogao was still sprawled across the table, dead to the world, snoring like thunder in a drunken stupor. Beside him, Meng Sang shoveled rice into his mouth with head down—already on his ninth bowl and still going, eating with utter, devout absorption, as if determined to eat Ling Shuo out of house and home. The uncle-and-nephew duo of gluttons and good-for-nothings looked comically out of place at the table. Ling Liu glanced at him and smiled faintly. "Don't just eat rice, young man. Have a sip of water." "Huh? I... I'm not thirsty..." Meng Sang froze. The moment the words left his mouth, he felt the heavy foot pressing down on his instep bear down with sudden, vicious force. He immediately plunged his head back into his bowl, mumbling incoherently. Up on the stage, after a brief pause, Ling Shuo turned to a new page, catching everyone off guard. It wasn't over yet? "Well then, next up is..." He glanced down and said, "Lant." The festive atmosphere stalled abruptly. No one answered. As people exchanged glances, they realized that the man hadn't shown up at all—the nameplate at his designated seat was still sitting there untouched! Yet several people could have sworn they'd seen him when they first arrived... Where had he gone? "Not here?" After calling the name three times, Ling Shuo shrugged with feigned regret. "Perhaps he had too much wine from Iron Hook Trading. No matter." *Thud!* From downstairs, a loud crash suddenly echoed up, mixed with the sickening crack of breaking bone. Faint screams drifted up, indistinct and muffled. "Osten." At Ling Shuo's words, the hall fell into absolute silence. Still, no one answered. "What a pity," Ling Shuo sighed softly. "Always so cautious in his work, yet burdened by an incompetent child who dragged him down. When a son is not taught, it is the father's fault." *Thud!* Another heavy impact sounded, followed by another, and then another. The muffled splat of ruptured water skins drifted in from outside the windows. Behind the sheer curtains, the night seemed to turn hideous, the neon glow bleeding in like ravenous eyes peering into the hall. "Kramer," Ling Shuo called out. "Was the barbecue at Shiye tasty?" No response. *Thud!* "Marey, I paid off your gambling debts so many times. Why couldn't you keep your hands under control?" *Thud!* "Raitai, you... Ah, forget it. Sigh." *Thud!* Crash after crash rattled the air, one following another. Each man named had plummeted like a king falling from the heavens, furious and contorted, engaging in an all-out elbow-drop contest against the earth below—though unfortunately, their odds of winning were exceptionally grim. After the bestowal of rewards upon the meritorious came the reckoning for the traitors. Traitors who bit the hand that fed them weren't worth pity—death was too good for them! With every dull thud, the faces at the Wild Gathering table darkened, grim and overcast. Hearing those names—some familiar, some he had only heard of—Meng Sang even forgot to eat. His face turned pale. Then, struck by a sudden flash of inspiration, he tipped his head back, grabbed the liquor his uncle had left behind, drained it in a single gulp, and with a heavy *thud*, slumped over, passed out cold. If Aogao had had his eyes open, he would certainly have praised the boy for his wits: a bit slow on ordinary days, but at least quick to catch on. By now, no one was paying any attention to him anyway. Himawan and Abadesa had unconsciously clenched their fists. Almost everyone dying out there was tied to their respective factions—assets they had spent tremendous effort winning over. Now, every single one of them was performing a high-altitude dive, delivering elbow-drops to the pavement... And they were performing it right in front of their faces! This was retribution—pure, unadulterated retribution. It wasn't even just Ling Shuo getting even; it was him actively putting on a show for his financial backer and patron. Before his backside was even warm in the Dragon Head's seat, he had already begun baring his fangs at the three Wild Gatherings... Utterly deranged! "What a loyal dog," Abadesa muttered, glancing toward Ling Liu beside him with a sigh. "Casting all regard for his own life aside, putting his neck on the line to do that Ji fellow's dirty work." Wasn't that what they called casting pearls before swine, trusting the wrong master? Look at all the new tricks he had enthusiastically developed since joining Ji Jue—he had never acted like this in front of you. Was he always like this under you back then? Why aren't you saying anything? Ling Liu kept his eyes lowered, as though drifting in another realm, deaf to the surroundings, his expression utterly blank. Deep within those pupils, darkness churned, masking venomous malice and wrath without letting the slightest hint show. His composure and mastery over his emotions were truly admirable. Yet, right at that moment, Ling Shuo walked over with wine glass in hand. "Elder Ling, today is my thirtieth birthday. As the old saying goes, at thirty a man stands tall..." Resting a hand on the back of the chair, Ling Shuo leaned in with a half-smile. "How do you think I've established myself?" "You've stood tall indeed—a tree rising above the forest," Ling Liu said, raising his hands to offer polite applause. "Seeing you come so far, this father is truly happy for you. You really have learned quite a lot." He paused, letting out a regretful sigh. "I only worry that extreme joy begets sorrow, and that one wrong step will lead you astray—to a point where even I, as your father, won't be able to pull you back." "What are you saying, Elder Ling? What is there to fear? My only fear is not being happy enough." Ling Shuo gave tit for tat: "When one is joyful, one should revel in it; when one has achieved success, one should flaunt it all the more! "As you can see, the association is in its infancy and affairs are overwhelming. Much as I wish to stay close to you, I'm afraid that attending to personal ties would only get in the way of everyone's business... From this day forward, when it comes to your Three Festivals and Two Birthdays, I'm afraid I won't be able to pay my respects!" He paused, lifting his chin, and asked with feigned apologetic concern: "You won't hold it against me, will you?" "How could I?" Ling Liu's smile turned even more benevolent, just like an elder pleased to see his child achieve great things. He patted the back of Ling Shuo's hand and offered repeated praise: "A real man ought to prioritize his career above all else. "As long as you don't blame this father for holding you back, that is all that matters." The corner of Ling Shuo's eye twitched slightly. *That old dog...* *He really can endure anything!* Ling Shuo had provoked him to this degree, yet the old man hadn't shown the slightest shred of temper. His face had practically been stamped into the soles of Ling Shuo's shoes, and he hadn't reacted at all. Had he truly backed down? Like hell he had! The single most important lesson Ling Shuo had learned from his adoptive father over his entire life was how to bide one's time, hide one's claws, and swallow humiliation. The last time Ling Liu was overthrown from his seat as Dragon Head by his own subordinate, in order to cling to life, he had even offered up his biological daughter. When she was abused and tormented to death, he hadn't batted an eye. Calling in favors from numerous clan elders to plead on his behalf, he had managed to preserve his life in what should have been a certain death sentence... Yet the man who stepped on him to seize power had rejoiced for only ten days. Ten days later, in a ruthless counter-offensive, Ling Liu had personally flayed the man's entire family, cured their skins, and hung them across the threshold of the main hall for everyone to trample underfoot. The only reason he wasn't throwing a fit right now was that, in his eyes, Ling Shuo was already a dead man! It was precisely that smile that sent cold shivers down Ling Shuo's spine like thorns in his back. From the shadows, Old Chu stepped forward, whispering into his ear: "Should we..." Before the words could finish, Ling Shuo raised a hand, cutting him off. "Don't even think about it." Ling Shuo turned his head and gave him a chilling glance. "Not today." If not for the consequences and the fear of bringing trouble to Mr. Ji, he would have had this old dog killed right here, regardless of the cost. It wasn't that it couldn't be done; it was that it must not be done. Not today, not here. Whatever moves Ling Liu made, he had to take them head-on, endure them, and counter them step by step. He could only hope that Mr. Ji would see how loyal and diligent he was, and when the critical moment came... For a split second, faint laughter seemed to echo, so ethereal and indistinct that Ling Shuo froze in place. He looked back in confusion, but heard nothing. Like an illusion.