Pear Blossom Alley had the character "blossom" in its name, and both inside and outside the alley, there truly was a refined air completely different from the Southern District.
The bluestone road was laid smooth and even. The shopfronts on either side all had vermilion-lacquered doors and gleaming tiles, with intricately carved lattice windows. The slanting morning sunlight cast a warm glow over the gilded signboards proclaiming "A Hundred-Year-Old Establishment."
The air held none of the lingering damp and sour rot of the Southern District. Instead, it was a mixture of face-powder fragrance, the scent of distillers' grains, and the sweet, sticky aroma drifting from the pastry shops.
Wei Datong walked in the middle of the three, thrusting out his chicken breast and slightly raising his chin as he slapped the old short blade at his waist, making it clack-clack. As he passed a silk shop, the owner, who had been leaning over the counter and working an abacus, hurriedly stood up. He clasped his hands across the threshold and bowed, his face piled high with smiles.
With his hands behind his back, Wei Datong sauntered over at a leisurely pace. He merely swept the other man with the corner of his eye, gave an "Mm" through his nose, and counted that as a response.
The shopkeeper bent his waist even lower.
Xiong Tiezhu carried his thick-backed saber on his shoulder. He looked straight ahead, placing one steady foot after another. Seeing his burly figure, the pedestrians in the street moved aside long in advance.
Ye Qingxuan followed at the rear. He looked at the silk shopkeeper's fawning smile, then at Wei Datong's smug, petty-official manner, and felt no ripples in his heart. In Pear Blossom Alley, this black uniform truly was a handy tiger skin.
They followed the alley from east to west, then wound back from west to east. All along the way, they saw nothing but prosperity: flourishing trade and orderly streets. Now and then, a few idle ruffians would gather in a corner to bask in the sun, but at the sight of their uniforms, they immediately scattered, slipping into nearby side streets and vanishing without a trace.
The entire morning passed just like that, amid unhurried footsteps. Unruffled, as plain as still water.
Near noon, the three returned to the Fengtian Division yamen.
The kitchen in the rear courtyard had long since begun sending out the aroma of food. Calling it fragrant was perhaps a stretch; it was really just the smell of brown rice mixed with a large pot of vegetables. Several long wooden tables had been set up in the courtyard and were already filled with temporary constables like themselves. Some squatted, some sat, each holding a large black pottery bowl and eating with loud, huffing noises.
A wooden barrel nearly as tall as a person was filled with snowy white brown rice. Beside it sat a large iron pot of stew, its main ingredient cabbage boiled yellow and mushy. The broth was cloudy, with a few pitiful specks of oil floating on top. Occasionally, a slice or two of meat would surface from the bottom, only for the cook wielding the ladle to press it back down at once, drawing a burst of laughter.
Wei Datong filled a bowl to the brim, then begged the cook to ladle on an extra spoonful of vegetable broth. He found an empty spot, sat down, and began wolfing it down.
Xiong Tiezhu served himself two bowls of rice and stacked them together. He took only half a ladle of vegetables, then sat to one side and ate with absolute precision, one bite of rice followed by one bite of vegetables.
Ye Qingxuan also filled a bowl to the brim. After two nights of tempering, his stomach had long been empty. The moment he smelled the food, he felt the dormant beast in his belly awaken. Without saying a word, he lowered his head and ate. He emptied the bowl in just a few mouthfuls.
He got up and filled a second bowl.
After finishing, he still felt hollow inside. He stood and walked toward the rice barrel.
"Hey, Qingxuan, were you reincarnated from a starving ghost?" Wei Datong had just scraped his bowl clean and was picking his teeth. Seeing Ye Qingxuan go for more rice, he could not help teasing him.
Several people nearby also turned to look at the sound.
Ye Qingxuan merely smiled without answering and filled a third bowl to the brim.
His appetite was far better than usual. Cultivating the Indestructible Vajra Body was like feeding a furnace. It rapidly transformed the food he consumed into vital blood and qi, replenishing his body's deficiencies.
Seeing that Ye Qingxuan ignored him, Wei Datong lost interest and turned to complain about the food. "Damn it, it's cabbage boiled in plain water again. My mouth's gone so bland I could sprout feathers. We run our legs off outside all day, and this is what we get?"
He scraped around in his bowl with his chopsticks for a long while. At last, he managed to turn up a tiny piece of fatty meat no bigger than a fingernail. He hurriedly picked it into his mouth, smacked his lips over it for a long time, and only then was willing to swallow.
"I heard..." he said, lowering his voice to Ye Qingxuan and Xiong Tiezhu, who was eating silently beside them. "Chief Constable Zhang and the others have a separate kitchen in the rear hall. They get chicken and fish every meal, along with top-grade yellow wine from Du Kang Tower in the western part of the city. What a cushy life, tsk, tsk..."
Xiong Tiezhu swallowed a large mouthful of rice and replied in his deep, muffled voice, "They're chief constables."
"So what if they're chief constables? Do they have something other than one nose and two eyes?" Wei Datong said indignantly. "We're here eating husks and greens while they're over there feasting on fish and meat. What the hell kind of business is this?"
Ye Qingxuan slowly ate from his third bowl.
He listened to Wei Datong's complaints, but his gaze crossed the noisy courtyard and looked toward the rear hall.
The food was merely a small reflection of the Fengtian Division's strict hierarchy.
They ate differently, and they dressed differently too. Temporary constables wore coarse hemp black uniforms discarded by others, while official constables wore newly tailored cotton uniforms.
They drank differently as well. In this courtyard, when they were thirsty, they could only ladle a dipper of well water from the vat. But Chief Constable Zhang and the others could sit beneath the eaves and have fine Mingqian Longjing tea brought to them.
Behind all this was power.
Power decided what you ate, what you wore, and what you used. It decided whether others bowed to you with clasped hands or looked down on you with disdain.
Yesterday morning, he had been thinking that he needed to sit beneath those eaves.
No, that wasn't right!
He swallowed his last mouthful of rice and set the black pottery bowl heavily on the table with a light clack.
What he wanted was not to sit there and listen to others speak. He wanted to stand there and hold forth before the people filling this entire courtyard below!
In the afternoon, the sun blazed fiercely.
The streets of Pear Blossom Alley had grown much sparser as well.
Wei Datong yawned until tears spilled from his eyes. "Come on, let's rest under the shade over there." He led the other two with practiced familiarity into a small side lane. At the end stood an abandoned courtyard wall, beneath which grew an old locust tree. Its luxuriant branches scattered a broad patch of cool shade.
The three found a clean stone step and sat down.
Wei Datong pulled a waterskin from his robes, took a drink, then comfortably leaned against the wall. He half narrowed his eyes and began chatting about neighborhood gossip. He went from how Widow Wang of East Street had quarreled with someone again to how Butcher Liu of West Lane had taken a new concubine, recounting everything with lifelike animation.
Xiong Tiezhu laid his thick-backed saber across his knees and pulled an oilcloth from his boot. He carefully wiped the blade. Even beneath the shade of the trees, it still gleamed with a chilling light.
Ye Qingxuan leaned against the tree trunk and closed his eyes to rest. He appeared to be taking a break, but in truth, his mind had sunk into his body, sensing the flow of vital blood and qi through his limbs and bones. The heat brought by those three bowls of rice was seeping thread by thread into his flesh, skin, sinews, and bones, nourishing the hidden injuries left behind by his arduous cultivation the previous night.
His hands hung at his sides, but his fingers curled and opened unconsciously, mimicking the motion of slapping flesh.
That rest lasted more than an hour.
Only when the sun slanted westward and the heat gradually faded did the three return to Pear Blossom Alley's main street and slowly patrol another two rounds.
Nothing happened that day.
When it was time to finish their shift, the three returned to the yamen and handed in their waist plaques. The constable in charge of attendance did not even look at them. He collected the plaques, waved his hand, and let them leave.
Hong Qingshan, the nominal veteran constable leading the team, had not shown even a shadow from beginning to end.
The three left the yamen gate and went their separate ways.
Wei Datong loudly announced that he was going to the tavern at the street corner for a couple of drinks. Xiong Tiezhu shook his head, shouldered his saber, and went straight home.
Ye Qingxuan also politely declined Wei Datong's invitation, saying only that his younger sister was waiting at home. Bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, he walked along the road back to the Southern District.
The streets were filled with people coming and going. Hawkers' cries and laughter blended together, brimming with the smoky, earthy bustle of the mortal world.
But Ye Qingxuan's heart was thinking of something else.
Today's patrol had yielded nothing. Tomorrow and the day after would probably be much the same. Relying on this meager salary, let alone repaying his debts, he could barely cover the daily expenses for himself and his sister, much less the cost of his cultivation.
He had to find another way.
His footsteps quickened by several paces without him realizing it.
Night, come quickly.
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