Fang Zong was also thinking about the FBI.

"Really? Yang Tiesheng, isn't following me like this considered treason?" Fang Zong touched his lips, finding this matter quite interesting.

Yang Tiesheng following him was like a brightly lit billboard, imprinting an 'F' on his left cheek and a 'B' on his right; all that was missing was an 'I' etched into his very bones. Fang Zong was certain this wasn't Peter's idea!

"Speak, who sent you?"

"Headquarters!" Yang Tiesheng was very honest, but he couldn't be dishonest, he couldn't hide it anymore. He said with a smile, "Headquarters' plan is very simple, it's just to give the relevant departments in the East a little bit of a headache. You're no longer in the FBI, and Headquarters doesn't want you to join the relevant departments in the East. We're going to play a counter-espionage game, let's see if the big officials in the East have the heart to do it."

Yang Tiesheng patted his chest and said, "To the big shots at headquarters, I'm just a pawn. I've come to terms with it. They're betting on the magnanimity of the people of Dongguo, so I'll take the gamble too. Whether you're forced back to the FBI or stay in Dongguo, I'll follow you. I admire you!"

With such a high hat placed on his head, Fang Zong was not happy and glared at Yang Tiesheng.

...

At home.

Knowing that Yang Tiesheng was her son's former colleague, Mom immediately began to treat him with great hospitality. She brewed tea, cut watermelon, and piled melon seeds and peanuts on the coffee table. She also took out the ginseng and abalone that Peter had mailed, intending to stew them for dinner, so as not to embarrass her son.

Yang Tiesheng kept shouting "No, no!" and was sweating profusely, which made Zhao Zhixia think he was too hot, so she kept turning the air conditioning down.

Dad also took some time to sit on the sofa and keep the guests company. However, being a man of few words, he could only sit quietly to the side, drinking a glass of premium Blue Mountain coffee that Mom had saved for him, his brows furrowing at the bitter taste.

"Uncle, Aunt. I rushed here this time and didn't bring anything nice." Yang Tiesheng was sweating more and more. He quickly took out a box and placed it on the coffee table, saying, "This is a little trinket that our old boss Peter paid the majority of the cost of, which was made by the old craftsmen in the department. Please accept it with a smile."

"Look, you've already come all this way, why bring anything?" Mom politely declined.

Fang Zong was also a little curious. Peter was leading the way in giving gifts, so what good things could he have given him? When he opened it, he saw a glittering gold object—a pure gold statue of the God of Longevity, heavy enough to weigh at least ten kilograms!

"Damn it, now I have an explanation!" Fang Zong thought to himself, glancing around as if he had a bitter pill in his mouth.

Ten kilograms of gold, in Fang Zong's current perspective, doesn't seem like much anymore. But he has to admit, when it comes to gifts, nothing attracts as much attention as real gold and silver. His parents' old mahjong friends all gathered around, looking at it from all angles, almost as if they wanted to take a bite out of it to test if it was real gold.

Fang Zong quickly dodged, but it was clear that he would need at least half an hour to explain himself...

April 1, 2019.

April Fool's Day!

Late at night, Dad finally managed to believe that Fang Zong had been a high-ranking official in the United States and that it wasn't an April Fool's joke. He returned to his room with an incredulous look on his face, and then came muttering noises from his parents; clearly, they hadn't slept well that night.

Fang Zong turned on his computer in the room and began searching.

First, the storefront!

While still holding the title of FBI agent, Fang Zong couldn't hold an official position in Dongguo, nor did he want to. He figured he might as well open a clinic with some unique features, and he was sure that the clinic would attract a lot of customers.

The storefront doesn't need to be very large, but at the same time, he also needs to consider other things.

The card room doesn't need to be closed; all that's needed is to hire two young girls to serve tea, water, and cook for the guests. Fang Zong has 600,000 US dollars and doesn't mind tripling or doubling the salaries, but the location needs to be chosen.

It can't be a villa; the villa area is too far from the old street.

His parents' mahjong partners and friends were mostly around the old street. Living too far away, even if he bought a villa on a hilltop, wouldn't be considered filial piety, and in this era of resurgence of ghostly energy, it would easily lead to danger. Fang Zong thought carefully for a while, then simply shut down the computer and opened the window.

Below the window is the old street.

Both sides of the old street are lined with a whole row of storefronts.

Fang Zong tapped his fingers on the windowsill a dozen times before making a phone call.

April 2, 2019, sunny.

Suddenly, the sound of renovations came from downstairs, with people coming and going. It seemed as if more than a dozen renovation teams were working at the same time. The next morning, a big red banner was hung up.

"Dad, Mom, my clinic is open!" Fang Zong suddenly said during breakfast.

"It's good that you opened early... What? So fast!" The two old people were completely dumbfounded.

"They're downstairs, let's go down together." Fang Zong rarely had the chance to be filial, so of course he wanted to show his parents some respect. At his insistence, the family of three immediately went downstairs and turned from the driveway onto the outside.

Although it was early morning, there were already quite a few people on the old street.

This old street was one of the earlier sections to be developed, and it couldn't compare to the recently developed commercial streets, but the rent was still quite high. At this time, four storefronts were completely opened up and hung with big red banners. When many people saw Fang Zong and the two old men coming, they quickly cleared a path to welcome them in.

"How much rent must this cost?" The four storefronts were all combined, and the renovation cost must have been substantial. Inside, various medicines, equipment, metal shelves, and hospital beds were neatly arranged in separate sections.

The old man was quite shocked. With his current income level, even if he didn't eat or drink, he might not be able to afford the rent here. He spent so much on renovations, and if he couldn't pay the rent, wouldn't it be a complete waste?

"Dad, this is a purchased property, no rent required. Why don't you come upstairs and take a look?" Fang Zong couldn't help but laugh. With his current perspective, he was too lazy to bother with renting.

In fact, he didn't spend any time thinking about it; he just made a phone call.

They paid a down payment of $600,000 first. Everything else, such as the shop transfer, the purchase of merchandise, and the loan, was handled by the relevant departments. Old Meng was right there, so there was no concern that he would renege on the debt to the Ghost Slayer Team given his abilities.

"As you said, the third, fourth, and fifth floors upstairs were bought at a high price, and the entire second floor was knocked down. The total area is equivalent to a four-story villa, plus six of the best mahjong tables... Xiao Zong, this old man didn't take out a loan for you. You owe this old man a lot of money." Old Meng's wrinkles were all squeezed together as he laughed. In his eyes, the significance of Fang Zong, a former high-ranking FBI official who was still very young, being in debt was not insignificant.

"Don't worry, I'll return it to you soon." Fang Zong smiled meaningfully and waved his hand: "Let's cut the ribbon."

The ribbon-cutting ceremony had to be performed by a prominent figure in Shancheng. Meng Laode called the mayor, but Fang Zong refused, insisting on cutting the ribbon himself. However, there was a custom in Shancheng that someone skilled in calligraphy should write a couplet and post it.

Fang Zong also took matters into his own hands, and Meng Laode, not minding the low price, helped him grind the ink.