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Chapter 59.1 - IOU and cards



When Yang Jing came, he saw Liu Heitou’s look of hatred. But Liu Heitou was afraid that this guy, who didn’t care about playing cards according to common sense, would suddenly hurt him. He could only say to Yang Jing, “Misunderstanding. There is a bit of a misunderstanding between us, Master Yang. A misunderstanding.”

Damn it! Jiang Zhen is crazy! After he heard what the people in Hexi Village said about him, why didn’t he take it to heart? Not to mention that, no matter how upset he was, Jiang Zhen refused to back off and let him go. He only hoped that Yang Jing could make Jiang Zhen release him.

“He said . . . it was a misunderstanding,” Yang Jing said to Jiang Zhen, hoping Jiang Zhen would release Liu Heitou.

Despite the fact that Liu Heitou called him Master Yang and called himself Little Hei, it was mainly because he feared people from the government. Except for some exotic birds like Jiang Zhen, most people were afraid of the government. However, Liu Heitou was very respectful towards Yang Jing, and Yang Jing didn’t dare to offend Liu Heitou.

There was a high-ranking official in their county town; he was a second rank senior official in the imperial court, and it was his troublemaker of a brother who owned the gambling shop. The person behind the gambling shop was a county magistrate who no one dared to offend and had to be flattered befittingly. What was a yamen officer like Yang Jing worth? He never dared to argue when he lost money there.

Although Liu Heitou was only a thug, he was highly valued by the manager of the gambling house. Yang Jing didn’t want to start a conflict with him.

Jiang Zhen didn’t speak but gave a slight sign to Yang Jing in a place Liu Heitou couldn’t see.

Yang Jing was slightly stunned when he saw this, and once again advised Jiang Zhen, “Jiang Zhen, I know Liu Heitou. Since I’m his acquaintance, let him go first, and we can discuss it.”

“I will let him go, but there is nothing to discuss. Leave!” Jiang Zhen seemed to give Yang Jing some face and finally let go of Liu Heitou.

Liu Heitou looked at Jiang Zhen bitterly and left without looking back. He had lost face this time! Even though Liu Heitou didn’t care about losing face as much as Yang Jing, it was hard to accept being treated this way. Liu Heitou took his men and left quickly.

Jiang Zhen felt that Liu Heitou had malicious intentions towards him, frowned slightly, but was still not particularly afraid.

Obviously Liu Heitou was a thug, and thugs were never irreplaceable. Some people needed thugs to help them, but they wouldn’t help them in return.

Jiang Zhen actually had something to ask Yang Jing, but at that moment, he had to deal with the Liu family first.

Seeing that Liu Heitou was knocked down and ran away, the Liu family were already scared. It was just that they were previously caught by Zhao Fugui, Zhao Jinge, and the others and fought, so they were all more or less injured, and were now unable to run away.

Jiang Zhen still had the bloody knife snatched from Liu Heitou in his hand, which looked terrible.

Liu Dacheng looked at him, clutching his mouth where two teeth had been knocked out and was bleeding. He said, “Misunderstanding, it’s all a misunderstanding . . . We have come here for the wedding.”

“Yes, we’re all here for the wedding,” Liu Ermao said too.

“You came here for the wedding? Where is your gift money?” Jiang Zhen raised his eyebrows and asked, playing with the dagger in his hand.

The Liu family came here to make trouble today, bringing baskets and wooden buckets, which they planned to use to take things away from the Zhao family, but they didn’t bring any money.

“We forgot to bring it. We’ll make up for it next time, next time,” Liu Dacheng hurriedly said. When he spoke, his mouth was not only windy, but also so painful that he was about to burst into tears.

“Really?” Jiang Zhen raised his eyebrows and asked.

“Jiang Zhen, don’t believe them. These people’s words are just like farts,” Zhao Fugui said indignantly.

“It’s alright, Dad. You can ask them to write a debt note.” Jiang Zhen smiled.

“Debt note?” Zhao Fugui was slightly shocked. Most of them in the countryside didn’t know how to write or read. Even if they borrowed money, they wouldn’t write any debt notes. At most, when the sum was relatively large, they would find several people as witnesses. For example, in their village, they would usually go to Jiang Ping, the village head, and ask him to act as a witness.

“It will be a debt note,” Jiang Zhen said. Then he looked at Wang Haisheng and said, “Go and bring me the pen, ink, paper and ink stone I bought last time.”

Wang Haisheng nodded and immediately went to Jiang Zhen’s house to take the ink, brush, paper and ink stone that Jiang Zhen had bought when they went to Fucheng.

When Jiang Zhen found that he didn’t know many traditional Chinese characters, he decided to study hard and bought a set of the cheapest pen, ink, paper and ink stone. As for why he could only ruthlessly buy the cheapest set . . . ink, paper and ink stone were too expensive in this era. That set of brush, ink, paper, and ink stone had never been used by Jiang Zhen and was still brand new.

Taking these things from Wang Haisheng’s hand, Jiang Zhen went in the house and said to Wang Haisheng, “Tie up the Liu family.”

As soon as Jiang Zhen spoke, Wang Haisheng immediately moved his hands. He Chunsheng, He Xiasheng, and Jiang Ming, Jiang Ping’s son, who had just helped them fight, also went to help.

Jiang Ping, the village head of Hexi Village, had two sons. The elder son, Jiang Quan, helped him supervise the construction of the new house when Jiang Zhen asked the Jiang family for a house. He was married and had a very stable personality; he was recognized as Jiang Ping’s successor by the villagers. Jiang Ming, the second son . . . seeing that his nose was now dark and blue and his face was swollen yet he was still excited, it was obvious that his temperament was totally different from his father’s and his brother’s. Of course, this was also because he was young. The sixteen-year-old Jiang Ming was full of energy and had nowhere to vent it. It was not surprising that he liked to fight.

“This rope can’t be tied like this . . .” Yang Jing pointed out to several people nearby. He didn’t dare to offend Liu Heitou, but he didn’t care about the Liu family. As for tying people up with ropes . . . although his technique of binding people was not as good as that of Jiang Zhen, he had specially learned it!

By the time Jiang Zhen had finished grinding the ink and laid the paper to write, Liu Dacheng and his eldest son had already been tied up. The others were either children or women, so they didn’t bother to tie them up.

After a glance at Liu Dacheng, Jiang Zhen said, “I won’t overcharge you with the gift money. Ten silver is enough. Also, ten silver as compensation for breaking things in my family’s house. In the past, you also borrowed ten silver from my family . . .”

Who would give ten silver as a gift? What was more, the damaged things, the food, and the drinks they had, would all add up to two silver at most. But Jiang Zhen asked them to pay ten silver as a compensation?

Liu Dacheng was full of resentment, but he didn’t dare to refute. Thirty was thirty. He could always drag it on. If he really couldn’t, he would let his parents pay. Zhao Liu couldn’t force her elderly parents to pay back the money.

Liu Dacheng had long been used to avoiding his debts. He was thinking like this, when he heard Jiang Zhen say again, “It all adds up to one hundred silver. I’ll write a debt note, and you can just press your fingerprint.”

“One hundred silver?” Liu Dacheng looked at Jiang Zhen in disbelief. How could he owe a hundred silver? It was one hundred silver!

“Of course, it is 120. How much did you think it was?” Jiang Zhen sneered.

“We only borrowed ten silver . . .” Plus today’s twenty, shouldn’t it be thirty?

“The remaining seventy are interest,” said Jiang Zhen with a frown. “However, I seem to have calculated too little interest for you. When Liu Heitou lent others money, it would double in a month. I can’t be any worse than him . . .”

“It is good. It is good,” Liu Dacheng hurriedly said. If they doubled the amount of money every month, like Jiang Zhen said, after the fifteen or sixteen years since he borrowed them . . .

“As long as you think it’s enough,” Jiang Zhen said, writing the debt note directly.


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