Chapter Ten: The British United Press, Crown Prince Nine

After leaving the Fulong Building, Yang Sheng found a public restroom to wash the blood off his hands. Acting as if nothing had happened, he carried a severed head and hailed a taxi to the Yinglian Society’s headquarters in the New Territories.

The Yinglian Society’s headquarters was peculiar—it was located inside a restaurant.

This Rongsheng Restaurant was said to be opened by Chai Hongtu when he first arrived in Hong Kong, investing all his savings into it.

However, from the police patrols to street thugs, everyone harassed the place, and business was dismal.

After Chai Hongtu, in a fit of anger, killed a thug who came to collect protection money, he finally gave up on the restaurant and raised the Hongmen banner again, reopening the Xiangtang to pursue illicit ventures.

Though the society was established, Rongsheng Restaurant never closed; instead, it became the Yinglian Society’s headquarters.

The front door conducted business while the back door served as the headquarters—both functions coexisting without interfering with each other.

Ironically, since Chai Hongtu raised the Yinglian Society’s flag, no one dared come to collect protection fees anymore.

Yang Sheng arrived at the back entrance of Yinglian Society. Two guards dressed in black robes stood rigidly, exuding a vintage aura.

“Hongsheng Union’s Yang Sheng, please see Brother Chai Jiu, the seated leader of Yinglian Society,” one guard said.

Upon hearing Yang Sheng’s name, the guards froze momentarily, then their faces darkened.

The news of the Longcheng Contest earlier that day had spread throughout Hong Kong’s underworld.

One of Yinglian Society’s three tigers, the Vietnamese Tiger Ruan Feng, was taken down by a rank-and-file member of the declining Hongsheng Union—this was major news.

Now this guy actually dared to show up at Yinglian Society’s headquarters—was he courting death?

Still, the guards maintained their composure.

“Wait here,” one said coldly.

After a moment, another underling emerged. “You may enter. Brother Jiu is waiting inside.”

Entering Rongsheng Restaurant, following the underling as he weaved through corridors, Yang Sheng finally saw the current seated leader of Yinglian Society, known among insiders as Prince Jiu—Chai Jiu.

Chai Jiu was young, seemingly in his thirties, under forty.

Dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, he looked more like a schoolteacher than a gangster.

Leaning back in his boss chair with his hands folded on his abdomen, he appraised Yang Sheng curiously.

“Do you know what you’re doing? You just killed one of my Yinglian Society’s Double Flower Red Poles, yet you dare show your face before me? Aren’t you afraid I’ll throw you into the open sea to drown?”

Yang Sheng’s expression remained unchanged. “Brother Chai, you’re mistaken. I killed a Double Flower Red Pole under Luo Rong, not one from Yinglian Society.”

Chai Jiu raised an eyebrow. “Is there a difference?”

“There’s a big difference,” Yang Sheng smiled slightly. “Let’s be straightforward.I'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.