Be Kind to Others, Director Qian

Chapter 22: The Charitable Bureau Chief Qian

"Jiu'er, I've got a deal to take care of, I'll be out for a few days," Jiang Hao said to Jiu'er.

They'd only been staying for two days, and now he was leaving. Jiu'er felt reluctant. "What kind of deal? How long will you be gone?"

"I still have some unfinished business from my old trade that needs settling. I figure three to five days, then I'll be back," Jiang Hao said.

Hearing it was just three to five days, she nodded at once. "Then take care of yourself."

Jiang Hao left Shibali Slope and walked all the way to Gaomi County town. Entering the city, he noticed the gate guards were back to two men—it seemed the tension from his gun snatch had eased. Passersby came and went without the guards bothering them.

It was nearly noon.

Jiang Hao stepped into a tavern, and a Helper hurried over to greet him. "Sir, here for a meal? How many?"

"Just me."

"Then have a seat over here." The Helper ushered Jiang Hao to a table in the main hall, wiping it vigorously with the rag slung over his shoulder. "What'll it be?"

"One meat dish, one vegetable dish, and a jug of wine. You decide." He tossed out a Silver Dollar, which spun wobbling on the table. The Helper slapped it down, his grin widening. "Right away, sir, I'll get it sorted."

The Helper left.

Jiang Hao glanced around the place. Back then—well, just a few days ago—his pockets had been empty, and even eating was a struggle. Now he had money and could walk into a restaurant without a care. You had to admit, money really mattered.

The food and wine arrived, and Jiang Hao ate at a leisurely pace. Gradually, more customers trickled in, and the hall grew lively. At the table nearest him, two men chatted as they ate.

"A couple years back, the Japanese Army ran Bandit Zhang out and took over the whole northeast. Now it's their turf up there—business is tough."

"What about heading south?"

"South's a mess too. Those warlord bosses each rule their own patch, squeezing folks dry. Ah, forget it, forget it—let's drink. If it doesn't work out, we'll find another way."

They clinked glasses and downed their drinks in one gulp.

Japan occupying the three northeastern provinces, warlords carving up the country—what distant terms those were. To him, or to Jiang Hao's generation, they were just entries in history books. Living in a stable society, you couldn't grasp the struggle and suffering of the people in this era.

He remembered the film's ending: the Japanese Army pushed all the way to Gaomi, and Yu Zhan'ao and Jiu'er led a bunch of Helpers in a fight against the devils. In the end, they were all killed by the Japanese, leaving only their four- or five-year-old son.

But that was probably still four or five years away, around the time of Japan's full-scale invasion of China.

Was he really going to let Jiu'er go through all that again?

After eating, Jiang Hao strolled through the streets. He knew Gaomi County town well. He stopped at a tailor's shop, bought a set of clothes and a hat, and changed into the new outfit. He looked even sharper now.

In two days, Jiang Hao had gathered all the intel he needed.

At the base of the eastern city wall stood a three-courtyard compound—Qian Donglai's place. But it wasn't his home; it was where he kept his mistress. His real home was in the countryside, with his wife and kids.

Qian Donglai was a greedy, lecherous man. He'd have people find him pretty, untouched girls, or if a family was selling a beautiful daughter, he'd buy her up and stash her in that compound. After a year or two, once the novelty wore off, he'd sell them off and get new ones.

Jiang Hao stood at the street corner, eyeing the ornate gate. How many women had shed blood and tears behind those doors? Sleep with them for a year or two, then sell them off—only a heartless bastard like Qian Donglai could pull that kind of inhuman stunt.

Jiang Hao also dug up a key piece of info: at night, only a mute Old Man stayed to watch the compound; all the other servants went home.

Most wealthy households kept plenty of servants, but the Qian family was the opposite. The setup was odd, but it made things easier for Jiang Hao.

Night fell. Jiang Hao reached the back wall, took a running start, kicked off the wall, grabbed the top with his hands, and hoisted himself over.

Crouching on the wall, he peered down. The whole courtyard was pitch-black, except for one spot in the back where light glowed. He dropped lightly to the ground, pulled out his gun, and soon crept to the rear. Just past the back courtyard, he heard muffled, pained cries from inside.

Jiang Hao was startled. Why would there be a woman screaming in the Qian household?

He hugged the wall to the lit room. The high gates of the Republic era already had electric lights. Jiang Hao looked up and, through the glass window, saw a shocking sight.

In the middle of the room, a full table of food and wine was laid out. Qian Donglai was holding a horsewhip, lashing a woman viciously.

Crack after crack of the whip, scream after scream of agony. The woman was being beaten bloody.

"What a fucking monster."

Jiang Hao yanked open the curtain and strode in. Qian Donglai, in the heat of his excitement, suddenly noticed the woman's expression shift. He turned to see a masked man entering the room, knew trouble was coming, dropped the whip, and lunged for the dining table.

His gun was lying right there.

"Bam!"

Jiang Hao kicked Qian Donglai flying. Qian Donglai was in his forties, his body long hollowed out by wine and women. The kick landed solidly, sending him crashing against the wall, sprawled at the woman's feet.

Jiang Hao grabbed the gun off the table and aimed it at Qian Donglai.

Staring into the dark muzzle, Qian Donglai dared not move. He was a man of some experience and quickly put on a fawning face. "Good sir, I, Qian Donglai, have always been charitable to others. I take it you're after money—no problem. I respect the brotherhood of the underworld and always lend a hand to those in need. Just name your price, and I'll hand it over with both hands."

Jiang Hao sneered at Qian Donglai's pathetic display, then glanced at the woman hanging on the wall. He thought, a scumbag like this can't be left alive.

Qian Donglai clearly misread the situation. Seeing the masked bandit look at the woman, his eyes darted, and he quickly said, "Good sir, I'll throw in this woman too. Here's her Contract of Indenture—her life and death are yours from now on."