BPIFC -Volume 1 – Chapter 12 Stirring Up Trouble

Watching the market below quickly return to normal, Sun Fatty asked the investigator beside him:

“Did you spot Director Ouyang? He didn’t get suspicious, did he?”

The investigator replied:

“Director Ouyang is at Stall No. 73. Che Qianzi is a completely unfamiliar face, so even standing face-to-face he wouldn’t recognize him.

And the people I hired aren’t from the Bureau either. At most, he’ll think someone accidentally caused a disturbance by exposing the Underworld agents. He won’t connect it to you, Director Sun.”

Sun Fatty nodded with a grin.

Then he muttered to himself:

“I told you that little Taoist wasn’t ordinary. Kong Dalong really doesn’t know treasure when he sees it. Even without Gao Liang’s money, the kid could have lived a life of luxury.”

Before he could finish speaking, the investigator monitoring the Ghost Market spoke again.

“Director Sun, Director Ouyang and his people are leaving.

Six of them in total.

They’re heading out through the eastern exit.”

Glancing at his watch, Sun Fatty stood up and began changing into an Industry and Commerce Bureau uniform.

At the same time, he asked:

“Did Ouyang get anything good?”

The investigator shook his head.

“The investigators from Division Five all came out empty-handed.

Director Ouyang bought an old wristwatch at Stall No. 3 and a jacket at Stall No. 21.

After that, he spent most of his time browsing secondhand book stalls, but he didn’t purchase anything else.”

Hearing that Ouyang had come away empty-handed, Sun Desheng chuckled.

Picking up a walkie-talkie from the table, he said:

“In twenty minutes, start pushing in from both the east and west entrances.

And remember the important part—

Don’t miss a single stall.”

Meanwhile, at the secondhand book stall, Che Qianzi was feeling increasingly annoyed.

By now he had figured out that Sun Fatty had used him as bait.

The problem was that he still had no idea what exactly had happened or what role he had played.

Just as he was debating whether he should go find Sun Fatty, the market suddenly became chaotic.

Groups of tax inspectors, commerce bureau officers, and auxiliary police poured in from both ends of the street.

The vendors immediately panicked.

Many hurriedly pushed their carts toward the opposite exit.

Unfortunately, government personnel were coming from that direction as well.

The street itself was poorly designed.

There were only two exits—east and west.

Both sides were bordered by the blank walls of residential buildings.

There was nowhere to escape.

At first, the vendors were worried by the presence of the authorities.

But after calming down, they realized that all they were selling was old junk.

At worst, they could be accused of disrupting market order.

Most weren’t even operating without licenses or evading taxes.

The likely outcome was little more than a lecture.

Noticing several inspectors wearing uniforms similar to his own, Che Qianzi suddenly understood something.

He squeezed through the crowd.

Sure enough, he found Sun Desheng dressed as an Industry and Commerce officer.

Holding a loudspeaker, Sun Fatty was explaining to a group of agitated vendors:

“Not that I’m saying anything, but you’ve been illegally occupying public roads for years and still think you’re in the right?

Selling old junk isn’t a serious crime.

But cheating foreign friends?

Now you’ve embarrassed the country internationally!

Last month, an American bought a supposedly authentic erotic painting by Tang Bohu from this market.

And you people actually aged it with urine!

The poor guy took it onto the airplane, planning to study some classical art during the flight.

The moment he unrolled it, the entire cabin smelled like piss!

This matter has become huge.

The relevant authorities have issued orders for a thorough investigation.

Until we find the person who sold that fake painting, this market stays shut down.

You there—start registering everyone’s information!”

Halfway through his speech, Sun Fatty spotted Che Qianzi in the crowd.

He winked at him.

Then he handed the loudspeaker to a staff member and walked over.

Pulling the Taoist aside, he said cheerfully:

“I knew you had talent, little brother. Once this is over, dinner’s on me.”

Che Qianzi grabbed his arm tightly.

“No need. I’ll share a funeral meal with you on the seventh day after your death.”

Staring directly at him, he added:

“Talk. And if your explanation isn’t good enough, I’ll make sure you spend another six months in a hospital.”

Seeing Sun Fatty being restrained, several investigators moved forward to help.

Sun Desheng immediately stopped them.

“Mind your own business.

This is my little brother.

We’re just having a disagreement.

I’ll smooth things over.”

Then he turned back to Che Qianzi.

“Come on. We’ll talk in the van.”

The two boarded a tax-enforcement van parked nearby.

Once inside, Sun Fatty smiled and said:

“I didn’t have a choice.

Things were urgent and there wasn’t time to explain.

So I had to inconvenience you a little.

Let go of my arm first, and I’ll tell you everything.”

As he spoke, he checked his watch and pointed toward the market.

“See this place?

Locals call it the Morning Market.

Others call it the Ghost Market.

Don’t be fooled into thinking it’s just people buying and selling junk.

The water here runs very deep.

The market’s been around since the late Qing Dynasty, back when Jiuhe was still an active river port.”

He continued:

“The secondhand goods are just a cover.

The market is divided between Yin and Yang.

I won’t exaggerate, but at least one out of every ten vendors can’t really be called ‘human.’

Some sell funerary artifacts.

Others deal in magical tools and ancient manuals.

But since they never crossed the line, Gao Liang’s policy was always to look the other way.

Even the Bureau couldn’t easily interfere here.

It became a kind of lawless zone.

In fact, many of our old investigations got their leads from this very market.”

During the drive to Jiuhe, Sun Desheng had thoroughly reviewed the Bureau’s old records.

Only then had he realized how deep the Ghost Market’s connections ran.

Even Gao Liang had avoided provoking it directly.

No wonder Yang Xiao had specifically come to him for help.

Someone like Yang Shuji wouldn’t have been able to handle this situation at all.

Unfortunately, Che Qianzi had already lost patience.

Interrupting him, he said:

“What does any of this have to do with me?

Why did you bring me here?

Answer that question.

Otherwise I can send you back to the hospital to think about it.”

Before he could finish, a voice suddenly sounded from outside the van.

“Director Sun, care for a chat?”

The voice sounded familiar.

Che Qianzi instinctively looked out the window.

Standing beside the van was the hunchbacked wonton vendor.

Although he was speaking to Sun Desheng, he never looked toward the vehicle.

Instead, his eyes remained fixed on the bustling Ghost Market.

Sun Fatty grinned.

“Sure. Let’s chat.”

Rather than opening the door, he simply rolled down the window.

Still separated by the door, he replied:

“There’s plenty of time before sunrise.

I thought it would take you another hour or two before you came looking for me.

So talk. I’m busy.”

The hunchback continued staring toward the market.

“This time you’ve gone too far.

When Gao Liang was alive, he never pulled something like this.

There are important people in the Ghost Market.

If things become hostile, nobody benefits.”

After a brief pause, his tone softened.

“We’ve never dealt with Director Sun before.

To show our sincerity, please accept this small gift.”

As he spoke, a small sandalwood box suddenly appeared in his hand as if by magic.

He handed it to Sun Fatty.

Then he continued:

“To be honest, we’ve recently received a shipment from below.

We can’t afford delays.

Once these next few days pass, there will be another token of our appreciation.”

Before he could finish, Sun Fatty had already opened the box.

Inside was a pearl about the size of a ping-pong ball.

In the darkness, it emitted a faint, ghostly glow.

Even someone as inexperienced as Che Qianzi immediately recognized it.

A legendary luminous pearl.

Just as he was marveling at it, Sun Fatty casually stuffed the pearl into his hands.

“Take it home and let the kids play with it. I’ve got plenty of these.”

Then he added with a grin:

“Not that I’m bragging, but if you think it’s too small, ask your sister-in-law to swap it for a bigger one.”

For the first time, Che Qianzi found Sun Desheng a little less annoying.