In the afternoon, beside a pile of miscellaneous goods in the rear courtyard of the Fengtian Division's yamen, the stench of urine mingled with the reek of rotting timber, swirling endlessly in the corner.
Zhao Hu, with his sharp mouth and monkey-like cheeks, ground a dead cockroach beneath his toe and cast meaningful looks at the temporary constable beside him, a man named Zeng Jihe.
"Brother Zeng, it's not that I'm lecturing you. Take a look—what matters most in this yamen? It isn't working hard. It's following the right person."
Cheng Yuan's burly body leaned against the mottled wall, his arms folded across his chest like an Iron Pagoda. He spoke in a deep, booming voice. "That fellow Ye merely got lucky and managed to climb onto Chief Constable Mu's coattails. What sort of person is he? A phoenix from the heavens. Do you think he'll keep his eyes on the loaches in our muddy pond forever?"
Zeng Jihe was a young man barely over twenty, with fair skin and a slender frame. Among this crowd of seasoned operators, he was like a bean sprout that had yet to grow up. He rubbed his hands together, uneasy and awkward.
"But... but Brother Ye was personally selected by the Chief Constable..."
"Bullshit!" Zhao Hu spat out a mouthful of thick phlegm. "Personally selected? That's because Ye Qingxuan knows how to curry favor. Who knows how he caught the eye of some Noble Person? Things like that come quickly and leave just as quickly. Our Chief Constable Zhang is the one who's put down roots in the South City Yamen for twenty years! Only beneath a great tree can you enjoy the shade."
Cheng Yuan picked up the thread. "Brother Ling Xiao said that as long as you're willing to come over,