Chapter 129: A Different Mo Fan (Part I)

The Boss, accompanied by Coldblood and Han, arrived in Ximen City. Their plan was to hold an underground auction for the goods they had seized. They coordinated with other cities to sell the items at low prices, intending to use the proceeds to purchase weapons.

Their motives were twofold: they genuinely needed the funds for arms, and they sought to monopolize connections to facilitate their grand scheme. Han drove the entire way, while Coldblood’s chest throbbed with intermittent, sharp pain—a torment that had intensified since the previous night. Han glanced at Coldblood in the passenger seat, brows furrowing in concern. What was wrong? Was the man ill?

At the Mo residence, Mo Lan said, "I have already taken leave. I was in the wrong before; please give me a chance to take care of her." She meticulously fed the medicine to the patient. Old Xian glanced at Mo Lan and the room, sighed helplessly, and stepped outside.

Back in the courtyard, he discovered two people talking. They had woken up so quickly—did they not catch a cold from the fever last night? And why were they speaking so loudly? What were they up to? Old Xian hid behind a nearby fence, eavesdropping.

"How did you get out last night?"
"Dad, I’m fine."
"How can you not take better care of yourself? How do you know you're fine?"

Mo Fan paced around the yard, eyeing the surrounding herbs. They were indeed precious specimens. He found his father overly long-winded and lacking composure. He was perfectly fine, yet the man continued to nag and nitpick.

Old Master Mo sighed. His wife had passed away early, leaving him with these two children. Unfortunately, neither was sensible—especially his son, who fancied himself clever but was entirely ignorant of worldly affairs. The old man sighed repeatedly, even contemplating standing up to argue with Mo Fan.

"Dad, if you don't get to the company, you'll be late. There’s plenty to handle there; go on. I’m taking the day off, and I have to go to school tomorrow anyway." Mo Fan, impatient, sat back down.

Old Master Mo sighed again, brushed the dust off his clothes, and strode away, deciding to deal with his son later. It was indeed time for work.

Old Xian ducked, fearing he would be seen; after all, spying on his own courtyard was a shameful act. The scent of herbs suddenly grew stronger. Just as Old Xian was lost in thought, he turned to see Mo Fan plucking his herbs and chewing them. His expression darkened instantly.

Old Xian rushed forward, shouting, "Young Master Mo, what are you doing? Why are you stealing my herbs? Without my permission, I hope you never set foot in my courtyard again."

Mo Fan smiled with satisfaction. He had known someone was watching all along. He hadn't expected his target to appear so quickly. Was the man so impatient to return with him?

Old Xian frowned at the sinister smile. He felt that while the man looked like Mo Fan on the surface, it was not the person himself. Surely there was no drug powerful enough to cause such a transformation. Had he missed a detail?

Mo Fan slammed his hand onto the table, sending the trays of herbs crashing to the ground. The beautiful plants were trampled into dirt and muck, many of them ruined. Old Xian’s face turned black with rage. Was this brat trying to stir up trouble? These were his beloved treasures; did the boy have no fear of being strangled?

"What’s wrong? Heartbroken? If you have the guts, come and catch me." Mo Fan wore a provocative grin. As he spoke, he moved to destroy the remaining herbs. Old Xian rushed to block him but was shoved aside, his head striking the stone table with a heavy thud.

Mo Fan had only intended to cause a little chaos without revealing his true objective, but the old man wouldn’t listen. Had he killed him? Mo Fan gingerly checked for a pulse and sighed with relief; at least the man was still alive.

This scene was witnessed by East, South, West, and North, who arrived just in time. They walked in quickly, their eyes cold as they glared at Mo Fan. Wasn't this guy supposed to be in a coma? How could he be here? Their gazes shifted; was this even the real Mo Fan?

Mo Fan regained his composure, stood up, and waved a hand, saying, "I didn't mean to, I—"

The mess in the courtyard was enough to make Mo Fan the prime suspect. With Old Xian unconscious and bleeding from the head, did he intend to silence him?

Two of the others moved to seize Mo Fan, but he fought back, showing no sign of giving in. East helped Old Xian up while North searched the courtyard for styptic herbs, rummaging through the broken remains on the ground until he found what he needed.

North washed the herbs, crushed them, and applied them to Old Xian’s forehead. Once the old man was settled in his room, the four of them turned their attention to the scuffle.

They frowned. This man had been rescued by An Feng’s group—why was he attacking them? Furthermore, Mo Fan had never possessed such martial prowess or physical stamina. How could he fight like this?

They watched for a few minutes. South and West seemed unable to best him, so the others joined in. After several exchanges, they realized Mo Fan’s skills were formidable—nearly rivaling those of Sister Qian Yin.

North struck blow after blow at Mo Fan’s chest, a form of retaliation for the Mo family’s actions. Regardless of whether this man was truly Mo Fan, he deserved a lesson. First, he had harmed Sister Qian Yin, and now Old Xian. Did the Mo family think they could bully anyone they pleased?

Mo Fan gradually fell behind, blood trickling from his lips as North’s punches proved heavy. As he prepared to flee, East kicked him back, sending him crashing into the stone table. He vomited blood and collapsed.

Having finished, the four of them smiled. This man thought he could challenge them? Not a chance.

"What are you doing?" Mo Lan, having dealt with matters regarding Qian Yin, felt a headache coming on and had come to request medicine from Old Xian. She arrived just in time to see Mo Fan spitting blood.

"If you have a grievance, take it out on me! Don't hurt the Mo family!" Mo Lan was agitated. Seeing the situation, she realized the four youngsters held a grudge against her family and were no longer fit to stay. Her tone was sharp; after all, Mo Fan was her own brother.

East said nothing. He gestured toward the ruined herbs and the fallen Mo Fan, then walked into the house, the others following without even glancing at Mo Lan.

Only then did Mo Lan notice the mess and the destroyed herbs, but she had no mind for that. She gently helped Mo Fan up, patting his back with concern. "Are you alright?"