The old nest was a three-story house built in a deep alley, no different from the other three-story houses in the city—simple and crude, as long as it was livable.
Because the alley was too deep, sunlight was scarce, and the cramped rooms were cluttered with杂乱, looking no better than a prison cell.
However, in Fa Yingge's eyes, this was his true home.
"Is that Fa Yingge?" A hoarse voice asked as a short old man descended the stairs from upstairs.
He had a slight bald spot, with sparse gray hair hanging loosely on either side of his cheeks, and a similarly sparse beard. He wore old black clothes, the edges of which were worn shiny from frequent use.
"Welcome back," the old man said.
"You're not dead yet," Fa Yingge said with a smile.
"If I were dead, there'd be no one to host your welcome party," the old man said with a smile.
"If you were dead, we'd have a welcome party every day," Fa Yingge said.
"Enough joking around. Did you have a good day today? Hand it over!" The old man held out his hand.
Faying grabbed a handful of coins and placed them in the old man's hand.
"That's not enough. We still need to buy tonight's wine," the old man shook his head and said.
"Old vampire," Faying laughed and cursed, then emptied all the money from his pockets, finally turning his pockets inside out.
"Go take a shower first. Old Pi has already brought some clothes that fit you. They're a bit old, but they look pretty good." The old man said.
Fayingge smiled and followed the old man's instructions.
A hot bath was the only pleasure unavailable in prison. For the past three months, Fa Yingge had only managed to take a quick shower with water slightly warmer than cold. Therefore, upon returning to his old haunt, the first thing Fa Yingge thought of was to soak in the bathtub.
This indulgence made Fa Yingge completely lose track of time. By the time someone came to call him, the sky had already begun to grow dark.
Fa Yingge changed into new clothes. The old man was right—the clothes were a bit old but the style was indeed nice. Unfortunately, this outfit was only suitable for today's occasion; it would be too conspicuous to wear on the street.
Fa Yingge, dressed neatly, walked into the hall, which had already been prepared. In the middle of the table was a large barrel, emitting a faint aroma of wine.
Having gone three months without alcohol, this was the second item on Fa Yingge's list of things he intended to thoroughly enjoy.
As for the food, though it wasn't a lavish feast, it was still quite abundant.
Grilled meat, roasted chicken, large fish, and a pot of tender stewed lamb—for Fa Yingge, who had been eating prison food for three months, it was an irresistible temptation.
However, Fa Ying Ge wasn't in a hurry to dig in. He tasted all the dishes, then poured himself a full glass of beer and sat by the door watching his younger brothers return one by one.
The news of Fa Ying Ge's return had clearly spread among the group. Even before it was completely dark, the younger brothers began arriving one after another.
Each one of them, upon seeing Fa Yingge sitting at the door drinking beer, came over to greet him.
The old nest soon became lively.
The old nest at night was Fa Yingge's favorite place. Though not very old, Fa Yingge was the leader of the "golden fingers" in the old nest.
The old man was called Pam, the leader here, responsible for managing this group of "golden fingers."
Fa Ying Ge didn't know that over the past three months, several new young brothers had joined the den. Now there were at least thirty or forty people in the den. It seemed like they would have to split off a group and form a new den, heading to another city to make a living, just like two years ago.
Fa Ying Ge watched the young brothers eager to return to the den and thought to himself, "The old man just told me not to drink too much, as he has something to discuss with me later."
Was this matter about him leading a group of brothers to strike out on their own?
Fayingge pondered that he had known the old man since he was six years old, following him on the streets to pick pockets, starting as a lookout, then a bridge hand, and finally becoming a "golden finger." Twelve years had passed, and the old nest had been split and reorganized four times.
The former leaders had long since split off. Some had achieved considerable success and established themselves outside, while others had failed.
If he were to split off, what kind of fate awaited him?
Fa Yingge pondered in his heart.
If he really did split off, who would be willing to follow him? Where would be suitable to establish a new territory?