Old Zhou's Appreciation

Scarface Li's incident was like a stone thrown into a stagnant pond, sending ripples neither too large nor too small through the small circle of low-ranking jailers in Zone D.

Xu Qian could clearly feel the change in the looks around him. The vague exclusion and probing from before had vanished, replaced by an attitude that carried a hint of scrutiny but, more than that, a tacit acknowledgment: "This kid isn't easy to mess with. At the very least, don't provoke him lightly." Even the old hands who usually liked ordering newcomers around spoke much more politely when asking him to help with odd jobs.

Zhang Meng felt honored by association. He practically walked with the wind at his back, bragging to everyone that he had "taught him well" and unearthed Xu Qian, this "unpolished jade." As always, Xu Qian maintained his slightly shy, diligent image of an honest man. He answered Zhang Meng's "praise" with a helpless bitter smile, crediting everything to "Brother Zhang's good teaching" and "luck."

This display of "not claiming credit" and "knowing when to advance and retreat" improved everyone's impression of him by several more points.

That afternoon, Xu Qian had just finished sweeping a stretch of corridor and was about to wash his tools when a passing jailer called out to him. "Xu Qian, Captain Zhou wants you in the Guard Room."

Xu Qian's heart skipped a beat. Zhou Kang wanted to see him? Was it because of Scarface Li? Would it be fortune or disaster?

His expression remained unchanged. He answered, set down his tools, straightened his slightly wrinkled jailer's uniform, and only then headed toward Zhou Kang's Guard Room beside the entrance to Zone D.

The Guard Room door was slightly ajar. Zhou Kang's humming drifted out from inside; he seemed to be in a good mood. Xu Qian knocked lightly.

"Come in," Zhou Kang's voice called.

Xu Qian pushed open the door and entered. Zhou Kang was sitting cross-legged on the room's only broken wooden chair, holding a tiny purple-clay teapot and slurping tea straight from its spout. The Guard Room was filled with the mingled smell of cheap tea leaves and tobacco.

"Captain Zhou, you wanted to see me?" Xu Qian bowed respectfully.

Zhou Kang set down the purple-clay teapot and lifted his eyelids. His bloodshot eyes, which seemed to have seen through all the ways of the world, swept over Xu Qian. He did not speak at once, merely tapping the tabletop with his fingers now and then.

Tap, tap, tap.

The dull knocking echoed through the cramped Guard Room, carrying an invisible pressure.

Xu Qian felt uneasy, but his face still wore that honest, somewhat nervous expression. He lowered his head slightly and waited.

After quite a while, Zhou Kang finally spoke slowly, his voice betraying neither pleasure nor anger. "I heard about Scarface Li."

So it really was because of that. Xu Qian's heart tightened, and he was just about to explain.

But Zhou Kang continued, "That scoundrel is tough as old leather. He's used to bullying the weak and fearing the strong, and he's given plenty of newcomers trouble before. This time, he kicked an iron plate. Serves him right."

Xu Qian froze for a moment. From that tone, it did not sound as though Zhou Kang intended to hold him accountable.

He cautiously raised his head and glanced at Zhou Kang.

Zhou Kang's face was expressionless, but there was an almost imperceptible scrutiny in his eyes. "Tell me. What were you thinking at the time? Weren't you afraid you'd mishandle it, beat him too badly, and bring trouble on yourself?"

Xu Qian's thoughts raced. He knew Zhou Kang was testing him. He could not appear too clever, but neither could he seem too foolish.

He chose his words, speaking with a trace of lingering fear and relief. "Reporting to Captain Zhou, at the time... I didn't think that much. I just saw him rush at me, and instinctively... instinctively used a few of the moves Zhang Meng taught me. I mainly wanted to push him away. I didn't dare hit too hard. Who knew... who knew he was so unable to take a beating..."

His words were half true, half false. It was true that he had not struck to kill; his attacks had targeted weak points that would temporarily rob the other man of mobility rather than vital areas. The lie was that he had absolutely not "failed to think that much." His counterattack had been precisely calculated using the Qi Gazing Technique.

As Zhou Kang listened, his fingers stopped tapping. He picked up the purple-clay teapot and took another slurp, then snorted. "Unable to take a beating? With Scarface Li's build, two or three strong men might not even be able to get close to him. You kid look skinny as a reed, but your strikes were precise and tricky."

Xu Qian's heart chilled. He knew he could not fool the eyes of an old hand like Zhou Kang, so he hurriedly lowered his head. "Y-yes... Zhang Meng taught me well. I only copied what he showed me..."

"Enough. Stop playing dumb in front of me." Zhou Kang waved a hand, cutting him off, though his tone seemed to soften somewhat. "I don't care whether you used Zhang Meng's country-farmer tricks or something else. What matters is that you understand the rules and know your limits."

He put down the purple-clay teapot, leaned forward slightly, and fixed Xu Qian with a sharp gaze. "You didn't piss your pants from fear, and you didn't lose your sense and beat him to death. You knew how to establish authority, but you also knew when enough was enough. That already makes you far better than plenty of idiots!"

Xu Qian understood. What Zhou Kang appreciated was not how well he could fight, but the "understanding of rules" and "sense of proportion" he had displayed.

In the Heavenly Prison, the relationship between jailers and prisoners was a delicate balance. Jailers needed to maintain their authority, but they could not go too far. Otherwise, they might provoke the prisoners into desperate retaliation or draw an investigation from above. This was especially true for the prisoners in Zone D, whose crimes were not the gravest and who might still have connections outside.