Seeking Fortune and Avoiding Evil in the Cultivation World Chapter 2 Eighth-Grade Opportunity

"The Dragon King Gang members have arrived."

At the sound of that voice, Su Weiwei's expression shifted dramatically, and she immediately grasped the situation.

After all, the Dragon King Gang's visits occurred nearly every month without fail.

It was impossible for her to remain unfamiliar with their presence.

"Head back into the house."

Jiang Fan instructed Su Weiwei. He was well aware that the Dragon King Gang consisted of ruthless individuals, and if they laid eyes on her, who could predict the consequences?

The timeless proverb that "beauty invites disaster" held unwavering truth.

"Alright."

Su Weiwei agreed with a nod. She retreated promptly into the room, following his words without question.

In the past, the task of delivering the monthly tribute had been shouldered by Father Jiang and Mother Jiang. Now that they were gone, the responsibility had shifted entirely to Jiang Fan.

Bang!

The wooden door of the thatched dwelling, left slightly open, was forcefully kicked ajar, radiating blatant arrogance and control.

Following that, a burly middle-aged man in his thirties, sporting a thick beard, strode inside, trailed by three other hulking figures.

Their gazes brimmed with a chilling killer's intent, stained by the blood of their victims.

All of them possessed sturdy frames, surpassing the build of any ordinary fisherman by far.

"Boy, you've got some nerve."

"Even knowing I'm on my way, you still had the audacity to shut the door."

"Are you trying to skip out on the monthly tribute?"

The middle-aged man fixed Jiang Fan with a fierce stare, exuding a subtle aura of hostility.

It felt like any rebuttal from Jiang Fan would invite a savage thrashing.

This man served as a key enforcer in the Dragon King Gang, called Zheng Wenbing, and known by his moniker Lord Bing.

He oversaw the gathering of tributes from the villagers of Osmanthus Village and had earned a fearsome reputation for his methods.

Countless fishermen had endured his vicious assaults.

"Lord Bing, I'd never dream of withholding the tribute."

"I was just recovering from a grave illness and couldn't step out to welcome you properly."

"The tribute is fully prepared. Kindly take it, Lord Bing."

Jiang Fan drew in a steadying breath and retrieved a sack brimming with copper coins.

This sum represented the tribute due for the current month.

It essentially drained every last coin from their household.

Though it pained him deeply, he had no choice but to hand it over to avert the looming threat.

"Well now, that was quick."

"Word is your parents passed away a few months back, and the burial expenses must have been hefty."

"Still, you're managing to cough up the tribute. Did you snag a Treasure Fish and strike it rich?"

Zheng Wenbing narrowed his eyes with doubt, scrutinizing Jiang Fan intently.

These so-called Treasure Fish were rare catches from Yunmeng Lake, packed with precious elements.

Just one could fetch no less than ten taels of silver on the market.

For any fisherman, landing a Treasure Fish meant they could rest easy for the entire year ahead.

Regrettably, such Treasure Fish proved exceedingly scarce, almost mythical in their elusiveness.

"No way that's possible."

"Given my meager abilities, even stumbling upon a Treasure Fish, I'd likely fail to reel it in."

"Whatever small amount remains came from scrimping and saving over countless years."

"Should I ever hook a real Treasure Fish, I'd rush to sell it straight to the Dragon King Gang without a second thought."

Jiang Fan feigned an air of trepidation and deference.

He understood that this realm held complexities far beyond a simple ancient empire.

Here, martial artists wielded supernatural prowess.

Legends spoke of these warriors leaping over walls, possessing superhuman strength, and resisting blades with ease.

The elite among them could rout armies single-handedly, vanishing from battlefields untouched.

And that was just the beginning.

Zheng Wenbing himself qualified as a martial artist, famed for fending off hordes of foes in close combat.

His three followers each boasted the might to take on ten opponents alone.

Jiang Fan had once harbored dreams of training in martial arts.

Unfortunately, even the entry fees for the lowest-tier academies surpassed ten taels of silver, far beyond the reach of a destitute fishing household.

"Good, you grasp the situation well."

"Our Dragon King Gang claims sovereignty over this eighty-li expanse of Yunmeng Lake."

"Whether Mortal Fish or Treasure Fish, they must all be traded exclusively to us."

"Concealing a Treasure Fish carries the penalty of death."

"Though I doubt you'd be foolish enough to try."

Zheng Wenbing appraised Jiang Fan once more and surveyed the sparse furnishings of the home, his wariness fading.

If Treasure Fish came easily, their value wouldn't soar so high.

Moreover, this young lad's fishing prowess paled against seasoned hands.

The chances of him securing a Treasure Fish were vanishingly slim.

He had let suspicion cloud his judgment unnecessarily.

"Absolutely, all our catches belong to the Dragon King Gang for sale."

Jiang Fan inclined his head in agreement.

Without doubt, this exemplified the tyrannical grip of the Dragon King Gang over Yunmeng Lake.

Every fisherman working those waters owed taxes and tributes to the gang.

They even dictated rock-bottom prices for the fish.

Exploitation layered upon exploitation, seven or eight times over.

What ended up in the fishermen's pockets was a pitiful fraction.

"Hmph."

"If all followed the rules as smoothly as you, our collections would go without a hitch."

"Should anyone at Yunmeng Lake give you trouble, just drop my name."

Zheng Wenbing clapped Jiang Fan on the shoulder, pleased enough to offer that empty assurance.

Internally, Jiang Fan scoffed at the words. The Dragon King Gang excelled at squeezing out payments but fled from conflicts swifter than hares.

Counting on them for aid was as futile as expecting fish to leap aboard of their own accord.

Naturally, he masked any reaction on his face.

When facing such brutish types, even a flicker of discontent could spark a merciless pummeling.

Around Yunmeng Lake, the Dragon King Gang embodied the sole authority; no recourse existed for the oppressed.

With those words exchanged, Zheng Wenbing signaled and departed alongside his three underlings. Duties called him to extort tributes from other fishers.

Once the sound of Zheng Wenbing's steps faded into the distance, Su Weiwei emerged warily from a side room and whispered cautiously, "Brother Jiang, are those villains finally gone?"

"Yes, they've all departed."

Jiang Fan confirmed with a nod.

Truth be told, enduring such oppression ignited a raging fire within him, seething with indignation.

Not even in his previous existence had he faced such humiliation, and it gnawed at his spirit.

While he endured for the sake of living on, the insult burned deep, etched indelibly in his mind.

One day, vengeance would come.

"What shall we do next? Handing over that tribute has left us utterly penniless at home."

Su Weiwei voiced her worry in a sorrowful tone, at a loss for solutions.

Their rice stores would barely hold out for three more days.

Without earnings soon, starvation loomed inescapably.

Bang!

As Jiang Fan opened his mouth to reply, a sudden notification echoed from the core of his mind: "By willingly offering the tribute, you thoroughly pleased the minor boss Zheng Wenbing of the Dragon King Gang, who views you as harmless and compliant, thus averting disaster. You have obtained an Eighth-Grade Opportunity along with one hundred Luck Points."

What in the world?!

This alert jolted Jiang Fan to his very soul. He remembered his Life Chart, the Great Blessings Equal to Heaven. So, escaping calamity paves the way for blessings? Was this its true essence?

Merely sidestepping peril guaranteed the arrival of fortunes.

Yet, what precisely constituted this Eighth-Grade Opportunity, and how could Luck Points be utilized?