Langzhou is the eighth-largest prefecture in the thirteen prefectures of Yue, yet in terms of prosperity, it ranks only behind Xinzhou, securing second place. Located in southern Yue, Langzhou boasts fertile land, numerous rivers, lakes, and canals within its territory, and enjoys consistent favorable weather patterns, making it exceptionally well-suited for cultivating rice and grain crops—thus standing as one of the nation's foremost grain-producing regions. At the heart of Langzhou lies Jiyuan City, though not the prefectural capital, which is genuinely the largest city in the region. The major Xianglu Grand Canal, which runs through the entire country from north to south, passes directly through its center, and several other land and water transport routes converge here, establishing it as a vital transportation hub and a key commercial corridor. Countless merchants and travelers pass through annually, significantly boosting the city's economic activities. Consequently, it is no surprise that Jiyuan City has become the leading city in the prefecture. In Jiyuan City, numerous small and large carriage services, docks, and shipping households are scattered throughout the city. There were countless cartmen, laborers, and dockworkers in this line of work—several tens of thousands in number—and Sun Er-gou was one of them, a man who made his living by working the docks. As his name suggests, Sun Er-gou had a slanted brow and a crooked gaze, looking like a rough, unpolished pear or a badly shaped persimmon. Yet thanks to his skill in reading people and his talent for flattery, he had risen to become a minor leader at the dock, overseeing a team of dozens of laborers who earned their livelihood by hauling goods and luggage for passing merchants. Thus, when early that morning Sun Er-gou arrived at this small dock, several of his subordinates hurried over to him, respectfully addressing him as: “Good morning, Master!” “Master has arrived!” ... Hearing these titles, Sun Er-gou felt a sense of pride and elevation—being called “Master” indeed signified that he had gained a certain status among the dock workers. So he held himself with dignity, and hummed through his nose as a polite response to their greetings. “What’s so special about ‘Master’? Isn’t he just Sun Er-gou? "Exactly. A dog with just two legs, a dog in human form!" "Ha! Ha! Ha!" ... A stream of cold, mocking laughter reached clearly to Sun Er-Gou's ears. Upon hearing this, Sun Er-Gou's expression suddenly darkened, and his mood instantly soured. He slowly turned his head, gazing toward the group of several dozen people standing on the other side of the wharf, his eyes settling on a broad-shouldered, sturdy black-clad man. A hint of resentment flashed in his gaze. Among the people of Jia Yuan City, the one Sun Er-Gou resents most, this black-clad man ranks absolutely in the top three. Should someone tell him that he could exchange his entire fortune for the complete disappearance of this man, Sun Er-Gou might hesitate. But if the request were reduced to half of his wealth, he would readily agree. Of course, due to his habits of eating, drinking, gambling, and indulging in pleasures, his actual fortune—what he calls his "entire wealth"—is not substantial. The original name of this man had long since been forgotten. On the wharf, people either called him "Black Grandpa" or simply referred to him by his nickname, "Black Bear." He was the head of another small guild, the Iron Fist Guild, and held a position in his guild much like Sun Er-gou did in the Fourping Guild, which is why he had been assigned to manage another group of laborers here. With one mountain unable to accommodate two tigers, let alone this small wharf, the two guilds were never on good terms from the start. After several disputes over trade clients, their relations grew increasingly strained. Now, whenever they met, they either mocked or scolded each other, or pushed and excluded one another—only just short of coming to physical conflict. Given the friction among their subordinates, it was all the more difficult for Sun Er-gou and Black Bear, who were the primary beneficiaries of the business here. Indeed, the two looked upon each other with deep ill will. Yet, as minor leaders with some standing and status, they were well aware that the "Iron Fist Association" and the "Siping Clan"—the two factions they were currently dealing with—were allied and jointly opposing a larger clan, the "Poison Dragon Clan." Thus, although both wished to drive the other out and secure the wharf for themselves, they could only temporarily restrain and contain their ambitions. Their accumulated frustrations and anger, however, found regular outlet through outbursts from their subordinates, which had become a daily ritual for both of them in the morning. Indeed, without waiting for any signal from Sun Er-gou, several sharp-tongued members of his team immediately launched a brisk and unyielding counterattack. "Have you ever heard of the most foolish animal in the animal kingdom?" "The bear, of course!" "What kind of bear is the most foolish among bears?" "Definitely the black bear!" "Hah…" The black bear, who had been listening to his subordinates' mocking remarks and had previously looked pleased with himself, suddenly turned pale and his face darkened at this response. Sun Er-gou smiled and gave a satisfied pat to the shoulders of his subordinates, offering encouragement. Black Bear’s men didn’t back down either, spewing out a continuous stream of crude and unsavory remarks. Sun Er-gou, of course, wasn’t going to be polite—after all, they were all big men, who didn’t need to fear one another. Naturally, whatever was unpleasant or hard to bear, they picked it up and launched it back with equal force. As leaders, Sun Er-gou and Black Bear remained seated, observing calmly—men of some standing, they certainly didn’t want to join in the rowdy, womanly shouting match. Just as both groups were growing weary, their voices thick with effort and spittle, suddenly one of Sun Er-gou’s men gasped, “A boat’s approaching!” The announcement instantly silenced the nearly hundred men engaged in the heated exchange, who all turned their heads toward the riverbank. After all, the gleaming silver coins were far more appealing than the temporary discomfort of a sore throat. Yet when the Han merchants saw the vessel moored near the wharf, they grew somewhat disappointed. It was merely a flat-bottomed skiff, barely large enough to seat three or four merchants—far from a significant business engagement. This was understandable, for the wharf itself was both dilapidated and located in a remote spot. Under ordinary circumstances, it rarely saw large ships. Only during the peak trading season would vessels too large to dock elsewhere at other wharfs be forced to anchor here. The towering man trailed closely behind the young man, acting like a servant. This young man and the towering figure were precisely the pair who had journeyed for three consecutive months, finally arriving at the homeland of Doctor Mo.