The Lost Tomb : Restart (The Sound Of Providence)

Chapter 124: Unusual Recruiting Process

I had been in a high position in recent years and had been both respected and looked down upon. I had been called Little Master Three since Uncle Three's era, so it was regarded as a kind of moniker in the business. But the Nine Gates wasn't the only underground group in China. There were many families like the Nine Gates everywhere. The name Little Master Three worked in the Nine Gates' system, but may not be recognized in other people's systems.

Moreover, these systems were so closed off that they were beyond the scope of one's imagination. Those in the Nine Gates had a long-standing reputation in their own system, but in some places, they might just be a random name. Everyone was familiar with goods from the Nine Gates, but they probably didn't know who the specific people in the Nine Gates actually were.

This Hong Ding Shuixian was also a nickname, but it was impossible for me to know how prestigious the nickname was in his system. I didn't know why, but for some reason, it sounded like delicious cuisine [1].

In addition, it should be noted that there were certain rules when recruiting grave robbers in the Nine Gates' system. No matter how unusual the recruiting process might be, the rules in this business were established by convention and Uncle Two's existence ensured that they were actually followed. But once you got out of the Nine Gates' system, these rules were useless.

I rarely dealt with people outside of the Nine Gates. First, there were enough people within the Nine Gates' system, so the profit that could be made was more than sufficient. Second, these wild grave robbers were unfamiliar and the probability of accidents was too high.

Those outside of the Nine Gates didn't have any predecessors, territories, or rules. They might have some unique skills that others couldn't dream of, but they all had a common feature: they didn't trust people.

Hong Ding Shuixian lived in Wuxi, so Fatty and I went to pay him visit. This guy lived in a dilapidated community that looked like it had been built in the 1990s. The façade on the houses looked very old after being drenched in the rain for so long. We could see all kinds of private balconies on each floor. The flowers and grapes growing in the sun rooms gave off a strange vitality.

Hong Ding Shuixian lived on the sixth floor of a seven-story residential building that didn't have an elevator. When we climbed up the stairs, we saw that the door was open and the air was filled with smoke. There were big, rough-looking tattooed guys playing mahjong at about six or seven tables.

I looked inside and saw that the room was only eighty square meters and appeared to have been converted into a mahjong room. There were cash and tiles on the tables, and it seemed as if the pools weren't small.

As Fatty and I glanced at each other, several of those big men looked at us while rubbing their tiles. One of them said, "Someone complained again. Tell your leader that it's useless. If you keep whining, we'll demolish your property."

I did a rough visual inspection of their positions and then looked at the stairs behind me. It was true that fighting these hooligans in this kind of space might not end well. I wanted to ask which one was Hong Ding Shuixian, but Fatty elbowed me and pointed to the innermost table, where a shirtless young man with red hair was intently drawing tiles.

Fatty winked at me, but I shook my head. If we fought at the door, we could handle all those people inside. But if we walked into this room and really fought, they would be able to spread out and overwhelm us.

In the end, I knocked on the door, stood on the threshold, and shouted, "We're looking for Hong Ding Shuixian."

As I knocked, I looked at the red-haired young man, but he didn't move at all. Instead, I noticed a thin, small man came out from behind the door. He was only as tall as my chest and holding a kettle like he was pouring water for the tattooed guys. "Looking for me?" He asked us. "What's going on?"

Fatty and I exchanged another glance and I asked, "Are you Hong Ding Shuixian? Isn't it 'red-capped' daffodil?"

The little man scratched his crotch and then pointed at it. "Red-capped daffodil isn't my nickname, but the nickname of my second child. I usually don't show it to guests."

I didn't understand. He put down the hot kettle and whispered, "Who introduced you? I don't take male customers."

I looked at Fatty as if to say: Are you sure this man can help us? Fatty narrowed his eyes and said to Hong Ding Shuixian, "Don't you remember me? I'm Pangpang [2]."

I looked at Fatty with widened eyes, unable to believe my ears. Fatty said to me, "Don't get me wrong, we're netizens. It's my net name, my net name." 

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Notes:

[1] Many restaurants like to come up with fancy names for dishes. That's why Wu Xie felt the name sounded like something delicious.

[2] The pinyin of Fatty's name is Pangzi. Pang (胖)= fat/plump. It seemed stupid to say 'Fatfat' and since it's an online nickname, I figured it was best to leave the pinyin.