Childhood Friends

Evening.

Chen Cheng deliberately took a detour to a more distant neighborhood, bought a huge bowl of stewed mutton cooked to falling-apart tenderness, and ate it with two large buns until warmth spread through his whole body.

When he returned to Bitter Locust Village, whether by coincidence or design, Scar Bear and two lackeys were blocking the only path he could take home.

Chen Cheng's expression did not change as he walked straight over.

This time, he did not deliberately avoid their eyes or hunch his shoulders. Stopping before Scar Bear, he naturally straightened his back, gave a slight nod, and called out in an even voice.

"Lord Scar."

"Back already?"

Scar Bear had a blade of grass hanging from the corner of his mouth. He tilted his head as he looked Chen Cheng over, smiling without quite smiling.

"I heard you started training martial arts? How's that going?"

"Longshan Lower Academy. It's nothing much, but at least I can fill my belly," Chen Cheng said.

"Not bad."

Scar Bear nodded.

"When you cultivate Blood Qi and become a real Martial Artist, remember to tell me early. I'll waive your family's Peace Tax!"

"...You're joking, Lord Scar. Cultivating Blood Qi is probably beyond me."

Chen Cheng gave him a perfunctory reply.

Scar Bear waved a hand, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

After Chen Cheng took his leave and walked far away, one of the lackeys beside him narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice.

"Lord Scar, the last person Laitou had a grudge against before he died was this kid. Could it be..."

"Doesn't look like it."

Scar Bear spat out the grass stem and squinted in the direction Chen Cheng had vanished.

"I went to take a look this afternoon. There weren't any clues left at the scene, nor were there signs of a fight. The killer was an old hand. That Chen boy..."

Scar Bear paused, as if weighing something.

"He only entered the Martial Hall a few days ago. At best, he's a little stronger than some mud-legged peasant... No matter how useless Laitou was, he'd seen blood before. How could he die at that kid's hands the moment they met?"

At those words, the two lackeys both nodded silently.

Scar Bear narrowed his eyes, seemingly still calculating something, and muttered indistinctly.

"Still... after entering the Martial Hall, his courage has grown."

"Lord Scar..."

After thinking for a moment, the lackey beside him spoke again.

"Our Black Wolf Gang's talks with the Clear River Gang broke down last night... Should we make a move on Zhou Long's family..."

Slap!

Before the lackey could finish, Scar Bear had already slapped him across the face.

"If you want to fucking die, don't drag me down with you! Zhou Long has always been filial. Touch his family, and he'll fight you to the death!"

"Besides, matters between gangs are decided by the bigwigs above. They may fail to reach an agreement today, yet tomorrow they might sit together drinking and laughing!"

Scar Bear bared his teeth, almost enunciating each word.

"Unless the gang leader gives the order one day, nobody touches Zhou Long's family! Don't go looking for trouble for me!"

Buckwheat Alley.

In the little courtyard beneath the crooked-necked tree, a sweet, fishy scent of rust still lingered.

The three Black Wolf Gang lackeys who had lived with Laitou stood beneath the courtyard wall with faces ashen as dirt, not even daring to breathe loudly.

The slickness and viciousness they had cultivated on the streets had been crushed out of sight by a deeper fear.

Before them stood a man utterly out of place in this ruined little courtyard.

He was burly, broad-framed, dressed in a sturdy indigo training outfit beneath a half-worn but clean dark-blue jacket, with a cowhide belt around his waist.

His square face was covered in a thick beard, and his gaze was as deep as two bottomless pools.

Merely standing there, he exuded an invisible pressure that made the three lackeys feel as though sharp claws were gripping their throats.

"Rest assured, Master Zhao! We won't dare forget a single word you said... Even if we have to dig three feet into the ground, we'll drag out that murderer who deserves to be cut into a thousand pieces!"

"You have one month."

"...Yes! We understand! One month!"

Crushed nearly out of their wits by the tangible pressure and killing intent, the three lackeys could only nod desperately like pounding garlic. Their clothes were already soaked through with cold sweat.

After casting one last glance at Laitou's room, the man flicked his sleeve and left.

His burly back, carrying a suffocating low pressure with it, vanished into the deepening dusk at the mouth of the alley.

Only then did the three lackeys collapse to the ground as though their bones had been pulled out.

"Who would've thought that piece of trash Laitou... had actually latched onto a man like that!"

One of the fat ones smacked his lips.

"No wonder he always knew exactly which routes the trading firms used to deliver goods. He could rob shipments and nothing ever happened..."

Another, thinner man wore a face full of confusion.

"But that day... wasn't it Master Zhao himself who crippled Laitou's legs?"

The fat man snorted. "Wasn't that Laitou's own fault? He didn't silence the delivery laborer, and word got back to the Proprietor of the trading firm... Master Zhao had to give an explanation."

"Forget that for now!"

The man who had remained silent all along narrowed his eyes and muttered.

"Don't you two think... Laitou's brows and eyes, especially his nose bridge and chin... look a little like Master Zhao's..."

The other two froze, then spoke in unison.

"Hey! Now that you mention it!"

Three evenings later, Chen Cheng left the Martial Hall earlier than usual.

Normally, leaving early was not permitted, but Fatty Fang had made an exception for Chen Cheng.

Passing through the familiar South Third Guard, filled with filth and stench, he headed north. The streets and alleys gradually widened and grew cleaner, while more small brick-and-wood courtyards and buildings appeared on either side.

The omnipresent smell of excrement, urine, mold, and rot had become almost undetectable. In its place were the scents of food, grease, and burning firewood.

Though the pedestrians' clothes were still mostly plain, there were fewer patches, and their faces were not as withered as those in the slums.

The sheer scale of Zhao City far exceeded any ancient city Chen Cheng had known in his previous life.

Starting from the foot of the city walls, one hundred households made a village, and ten villages made a guard district. A full hundred guard districts made up only the slums of the South Outer City.

Beyond those hundred guard districts lay the Seventy-Two Wards of the South Outer City.

As for the Inner City north of the wards, with its high walls, deep moats, and strict guards, it had always been an untouchable mirage to Chen Cheng. He had never set foot inside it.

Lenan Ward, Zhaofu Restaurant.

The two-story wooden building had a black-lacquered signboard, bright wine banners hanging at its entrance, and attendants eagerly soliciting customers beneath them.

When one attendant saw Chen Cheng approach in sweat-soaked old clothes, he took him for a beggar. Frowning and baring his teeth, he was just about to drive him off.

"I'm looking for Zhou Long."

Before he could speak, Chen Cheng gave Xiao Long's name.

The attendant immediately piled on a smile.

"Oh! So you're Master Zhou's friend! Please, right this way! Master Zhou and the others arrived long ago. They're waiting upstairs in a private room!"

He turned to lead the way, bringing Chen Cheng up the creaking wooden stairs to a street-facing private room on the second floor.

He gently pushed the door open.

There were already four people seated inside.

Xiao Long sat on the right, having changed into clean gray cloth clothes. Some bloodstained bandages were wrapped around his arm, but he looked fairly well.

In the seat of honor and to the left sat two other familiar faces: Liang Guang and Cao Badou.

They had all been companions who rolled around in the mud together as children, but their circumstances were different now. Things could no longer be as they had been in their youth.

"Brother A-Cheng."

Hu Niu sat to Xiao Long's right and gently shifted the empty chair beside her.

Chen Cheng walked over, sat down, and greeted everyone one by one.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Xiao Long called for the waiter to serve the dishes.

Before long, three meat dishes and four vegetable dishes filled the small round table. The food was not particularly refined, but the portions were generous, the meat slices thick and fatty. Paired with a pot of warmed clear wine, it counted as a respectable feast.

"Xiao Long, what exactly is today's meal for? Why did you insist on calling Ba Dou and me here?"

Liang Guang was the first to lift his chopsticks, his gaze sweeping over Chen Cheng intentionally or otherwise.

"We're all brothers, so I'll be straight with you..."

Xiao Long grinned and spoke forthrightly.

"Brother A-Cheng lost his job at the trading firm. I originally wanted to ask you and Ba Dou to help give him a hand."

"But when I got home last night, Hu Niu told me that Brother A-Cheng had already joined Longshan Lower Academy. So there's no need to trouble you two after all..."

As he spoke, Xiao Long personally poured wine for Liang Guang and Cao Badou. Seeing Chen Cheng wave him off, he did not pour any for him.

"I booked this food and wine two days ago, so I didn't cancel it. Let's just treat it as a chance to get together. Come, let's have a drink first!"

"Cheers."

The three clinked cups. The heights of their cup rims were no different from the order of their seats.

Once the wine went down, all three of them began talking more.

Liang Guang's words were mostly about the rules and dignity of the Patrol Guard Bureau. Whenever he happened to mention a superior, his tone immediately became respectful.

Cao Badou, meanwhile, constantly spoke of ten years of hard study and his status as a provincial graduate, his words full of anticipation for next year's Prefectural Literary Selection.

Xiao Long agreed with both sides and gave them ample face. They were also fairly polite to Xiao Long, after all, he was a Martial Artist in the Clear River Gang who had cultivated Blood Qi. His status was different.

Yet toward Chen Cheng, though they were not openly rude, their distance was plain to the eye.

"Brother A-Cheng, won't you have a drink?"

Hu Niu asked softly. When Chen Cheng shook his head, the corner of her mouth lifted ever so slightly.

"Then eat more."

"Alright."

Chen Cheng truly did not stand on ceremony.

He ate heartily while listening for useful information amid the three men's conversation.

For instance, the Winter Tax might increase, and there might be another military levy next year. Those with official status or academic credentials could have part of their taxes reduced, while their clan relatives would be exempt from military service three times.

After three rounds of wine.

Somehow, the conversation turned back to Chen Cheng.

"It's good that Xiao Cheng is at the Martial Hall now."

Liang Guang took a sip of wine, sounding as if he were commenting on something that had nothing to do with him.

"It's a way out, at least. But learning martial arts isn't easy, especially at Longshan Lower Academy. Not only are you staking your life, but your future... depends on fate."

Cao Badou picked up the thread, his smile gentle yet distant.

"No matter what, strengthening the body is always good. We scholars also value rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics—the six arts, complete in every respect."

"Xiao Cheng, if you have the time, you might as well find a teacher to enlighten you and teach you to read. Learn a little more about the ways of the world, and finding a living in the future... will be easier too."

"Indeed."

Chen Cheng nodded and said nothing more.

Thanks to family connections, Liang Guang had become a clerk at the South Third Ward Patrol Guard Bureau. He held a measure of real power and had broad connections.

Cao Badou's family had unexpectedly prospered. He had spent more than ten years studying full-time, already earned the status of provincial graduate, and gained the qualification to enter officialdom. His future was bright.

Thus, their words naturally carried bureaucratic concern and the exhortations of stale pedants.

But in the end, they were not deliberately belittling Chen Cheng.

It was merely the instinctive condescension born of class and understanding.

Seeing that Chen Cheng was "willing" to listen, the two completely opened the floodgates of their superiority.

In their hazy drunkenness, even their last scraps of restraint gradually vanished.

"Xiao Cheng, it's not that your brother wants to criticize you..."

Liang Guang slapped the table, wine fumes spilling from his mouth.

"You think cultivating that whatever Blood Qi is as easy as scratching out a meal from the mud? With you... you're confused..."

He paused, then continued.

"And you, Xiao Long... Is the Clear River Gang really a place for people to stay? Fighting and killing all day, with your head tied to your belt..."

"And in the end, what do you get? Just the scraps that leak through the cracks between the bigwigs' fingers! The bigwigs move their lips, and your gangs have to risk your lives fighting and killing... sigh..."

"Isn't that so?"

Cao Badou chimed in from the side.

"Xiao Long, take this brother's advice and quit! Find a way to scrape together eighty or a hundred taels of silver, then have Brother Guang pull some strings in the Patrol Guard Bureau and get you a proper constable's post! Your whole life will be secure!"

He paused, then glanced at Chen Cheng, his tone light and airy.

"Xiao Cheng, you're the same. That 'contract of sale' at the Martial Hall is just something used to scare people! As long as the money is there, Brother Guang can erase it for you easily! Believe it or not?"

"..."

Steam from the food and wine curled beneath the halo of the oil lamp. Their old friendship seemed thin and delicate before the divide of reality.

Xiao Long silently poured himself drink after drink, his chest continually scorched by the fiery wine.

Hu Niu also lowered her head and no longer touched her chopsticks.

Chen Cheng alone remained as calm as ever, continuing to eat the rare meat on the table. Only the hand holding his chopsticks tightened almost imperceptibly.

After a long while, the wine was gone and the dishes had turned cold.

"Alright, we've eaten enough. Come on, change locations with me. Let's go have some fun at Dream Relic Pavilion... hic..."

Liang Guang narrowed his drunken eyes, a knowing smile appearing on his face.

Cao Badou no longer mentioned sages or refinement. He threw an arm around Liang Guang's shoulders and leaned close.

Xiao Long glanced at Hu Niu beside him. Just as he was about to refuse, Liang Guang and Cao Badou grabbed him from either side and whispered some tiger-and-wolf words in his ear, things like "birds of a feather" and "broad daylight."

A wicked grin gradually spread across Xiao Long's face, and he let them pull him up with only token resistance.

Only then did Liang Guang seem to remember Chen Cheng. He turned around and said flippantly.

"Cheng, come with us. Big brother will take you to broaden your horizons... hic..."

Chen Cheng set down his chopsticks and said calmly.

"No. It's late, and it isn't safe for Hu Niu to go back alone. I'll walk her home. You guys have fun."

"Fine, then Hu Niu will be in your hands!"

Liang Guang had never truly wanted to invite Chen Cheng anyway, so he went right along with it.

At that, the wicked grin on Xiao Long's face faded somewhat, and there was a little more warmth in his gaze toward Chen Cheng.

Hu Niu also secretly let out a breath of relief. She shot Chen Cheng a quick glance, then lowered her head again.

After leaving the tavern.

The three of them, Liang Guang included, slung their arms around one another's shoulders and headed laughing and joking toward the depths of Lenan Ward.

Chen Cheng and Hu Niu, meanwhile, walked side by side toward Bitter Locust Village.