"Extra! Extra—!"
"The Western Golden Lion Empire signed the Twenty-One Demands of Martial Arts with Zhenwei Martial Arts Hall this morning!"
"To raise military funds, Gao Dashuai has mortgaged all the mining rights along thirty miles of the Yuehan Railway to the Eastern Black Sun Corporation!"
"The Yellow River burst its banks. More than two hundred thousand refugees are now massed outside the concession's iron fence!"
Three pieces of news, each one a knife to the heart.
The streets erupted in an uproar. Some stamped their feet and beat their chests, but most only shook their heads numbly.
"Coming through, coming through!"
A rickshaw forcibly plowed a gap through the chaotic crowd.
The man pulling it was named Lu Zhen.
A faded old vest hung from his shoulders. Sweat soaked his back until it shone, steam rising from it.
At first glance, his steps looked a little strange.
He couldn't put weight on his right leg. He limped with every step.
As his legs moved at different lengths, the two shafts rocked up and down in turn, as if a boat were sailing through waves.
On the seat, a rich madam with fashionable permed waves clutched her chest with a handkerchief, her face full of displeasure.
"Damn it! What a calamity!"
The wheels had barely rolled over a small mound of dirt when the rickshaw lurched down, then bounced back up.
The madam swayed, nearly banging into the handrail, and immediately shrieked:
"You cripple! You can't even walk straight, yet you're out pulling a rickshaw? You're bouncing me all over the place—you'll shake my dinner right out of me!"
"I've got a game of pai gow arranged with Mrs. Smith. If you shake all my luck away and I lose money, can you afford to take the blame?"
"Yes, yes, madam. Sit tight. The road ahead is better."
Lu Zhen apologized in a low voice, bending his waist sharply.
His large feet, in black cloth shoes, dug firmly into the bluestone road. The muscles in his calves instantly tightened like iron and stone, forcibly steadying the rickshaw.
The main road ahead was blocked by marching students, so Lu Zhen skillfully turned the rickshaw into a narrow lane called Tobacco Pouch Alley.
In the time it took to brew a pot of tea, a red-brick Western-style house stood before them.
"We're here, madam."
Lu Zhen lowered the shafts, pulled the sweat towel around his neck—its original color long gone—and carelessly wiped his face.
The madam got out and carefully straightened her qipao. As soon as she opened her purse, a strong, sour smell of sweat swept toward her on the wind.
She recoiled as if avoiding a plague, furiously fanning her nose with her perfumed handkerchief. Her brows furrowed. "Country folk always smell so sour and foul. Disgusting..."
Two silver coins clinked into Lu Zhen's calloused palm.
For three kilometers, the standard fare was two silver dollars. Not a cent in tip.
Lu Zhen didn't look twice. He bent down and turned the empty rickshaw around.
After walking a few steps, he instinctively lowered his head and sniffed his vest.
"Yeah, it does smell a little."
He muttered to himself, his expression untroubled.
Firewood, rice, oil, and salt.
Firewood came first.
In the depths of winter, water froze solid as soon as it fell. Coal was expensive, and firewood even more so. How could he bear to waste it heating water for a bath?
When his body itched, he would just draw a bucket of cold water by the well and scrub himself hard with a wet cloth.
People said rickshaw pulling was "high-paying" work among laborers, but the trade had too many rules and too much exploitation.
The license, the uniform, the fixed cut they had to pay... From dawn till dark, once he'd covered his meals, he barely had a few coins left.
As for his lame leg... Lu Zhen rubbed his stiff knee, his gaze darkening for a moment.
At eighteen, he had been a student in the Martial Arts Class at Jingcheng Middle School in the north of the city.
Back then, his adoptive parents had been critically ill. Desperate to get money for their treatment, he'd agreed to throw a match for the wealthy Zhao Jincheng at the Provincial Capital's Martial Arts Academy selection trials.
Who would have thought Zhao Jincheng was so vicious? The moment Lu Zhen let up, he launched a full-force sneak attack and destroyed the meridians in his leg.
Afterward, he broke his word and turned the accusation around, leaving Lu Zhen branded with the scandal of "selling a spot" and expelled from school.
That limp had lasted twelve years.
Enduring the ache in his leg, Lu Zhen returned to Pig Cage Alley, Ocean City's lowest slum.
Three men in black, short jackets stood outside the shack at the end of the alley, collars open to reveal vicious blue tattoos.
The Black Snake Gang.
Lu Zhen's heart sank.
A month ago, he had awakened the Mystery of the Womb and regained his memories of a previous life.
Unwilling to spend his whole life as a cripple, he had borrowed thirty silver dollars from the Black Snake Gang and bought a dose of Bone-Mending Muscle-Regenerating Soup.
He'd taken the medicine, but it had vanished like a mud cow sinking into the sea, leaving not a ripple—only a mountain of debt.
"Cripple Lu, finally decided to come back?"
The leader, Triangular Eyes, spat out a melon seed shell and gave him a sideways look with his fleshy face. "Where's the money?"
As he spoke, his shifty eyes glanced at the tightly shut window. He grinned lewdly. "The one inside is your sister, right? Heard she's sixteen? Perfect. Drunken Flower Pavilion needs a maid. With her looks, she could fetch a dozen or so silver dollars."
Lu Zhen steadied himself and blocked the doorway. "We signed a contract. The loan term is six months. I'll pay back the principal and interest. It's only been a month."
"Six months?" Triangular Eyes grinned theatrically, and the thugs behind him laughed along. "Cripple Lu, pulling rickshaws made you stupid? The principal's due in six months, but interest is calculated by the week! You borrow nine, pay back thirteen, and the interest compounds. You think we're a charity handing out porridge?"
He stepped closer, the stench of his yellow teeth filling the air. "Five silver dollars in interest every week. Miss even one coin, and we'll break one of your legs!"
Lu Zhen fell silent for a moment, then pulled three silver dollars and a handful of loose silver coins from his clothes and laid them in his open palm.
This was everything he'd managed to save over the past half month, pulling his rickshaw day and night and pinching every last coin.
Triangular Eyes snatched the silver dollars and blew on them to hear them ring.
"Ding—"
"You know what's good for you." Triangular Eyes weighed the coins, some of his viciousness fading. "Same time next week. Have the money ready. Don't make me come knocking."
The three pests swaggered away, and silence returned to the alley.
Lu Zhen turned to the broken wooden door of his home, stuffed with straw, and knocked softly three times.
"Little sis, it's me."
Inside, something heavy shifted. The wooden door creaked open a crack.
A pale little face appeared in the gloom.
It was his little sister, Lu Wan. She clutched a pair of scissors tightly in her hand. Only when she saw her big brother did her tense shoulders finally sag, and her eyes instantly reddened.
Lu Zhen slipped inside and bolted the door behind him.
An older woman sat beside the table in a blue floral cotton jacket. It was his big sister, Lu Fang.
When she saw Lu Zhen come in, Lu Fang stood up awkwardly, twisting a handkerchief in both hands, her face full of guilt. "Zhen... I'm sorry about today."
"It's gotten cold, so I thought I'd bring you two a couple of pounds of cornmeal. I didn't notice I had a tail, and I ended up leading those hooligans straight here..."
Lu Zhen paused while pouring water.
No wonder Triangular Eyes hadn't gone to the street corner today and had come straight to the house.
His big sister had married three years ago. Her husband's family, the Zhou Family, had once been prosperous; one of their ancestors had been a martial artist. But after several generations, the family had fallen into decline.
In this world, people were divided into nine ranks.
A rickshaw puller like him was one of the miserable laborers at the very bottom, selling his strength and burning through his short, wretched life.
But martial artists were different.
They were carp leaping over the Dragon Gate, respectable people.
An ordinary laborer could work himself to death for a year and still fail to save ten silver dollars.
But a martial artist could earn hundreds a month with ease, whether escorting goods or becoming an instructor at a martial arts hall.
Night had fallen completely.
Lu Fang glanced at the window, her expression anxious. "Zhen, it's late. I have to go back."
She rummaged inside her jacket, gritted her teeth, then took out two warm Yuan Silver Dollars and placed them on the table.
"Take this money. Wan'er is still growing. Buy half a pound of meat so she can have something nourishing. It's so cold—buy another hundred pounds or so of coal briquettes. Don't let the two of you freeze."
Lu Zhen looked at the two silver dollars but didn't move.
These two dollars were probably money his sister had scraped together a coin at a time—perhaps even half a month's grocery money for the Zhou Family.
When he didn't answer, Lu Fang forced a stiff smile. "Take it. I'm doing fine with the Zhou Family. I have enough to eat and wear, and your brother-in-law is... considerate."
As she spoke, she insisted on pressing the silver dollars into Lu Zhen's calloused palm, then turned to open the door.
"Wait."
Lu Zhen tucked the silver dollars into his clothes, grabbed the sweat towel from the corner, hung it around his neck, and lifted the door bolt.
"Good timing. I have to go back to the rickshaw firm and return the rickshaw. They'll dock my pay if I'm late." Lu Zhen bent down and took hold of the rickshaw waiting in the cold wind, breathing out a cloud of white vapor.
"I'll take you on my way."
"Little sis, lock the door..."
All the way there, he stuck to the main roads.
It was a longer route, but there were streetlights and patrols from the Constabulary.
Once he'd watched his sister enter the Zhou Family's gate and heard the gatekeeper lock it, Lu Zhen finally turned to leave.
The Shunfa Rickshaw Firm was brightly lit.
Once he'd returned the rickshaw, he was free.
Lu Zhen walked out of the firm, tightened his tattered vest against the cold, and headed into an empty alley.
Suddenly, he stopped.
His vision blurred. Rows of pale-blue characters abruptly appeared before his eyes.
[Daily Settlement Panel activated] [Today's settlement: Pulled a rickshaw for eight hours, traveling a hundred miles.] [Rewards: Silver dollars +2, Profession Experience +5, Physique Experience +5, General Experience +5!] [Current Daily Settlement Level: LV1, daily rewards multiplied by an additional X1]
As the characters appeared, a strange warmth sprang into existence and instantly flowed through all four limbs and the hundred bones of his body, finally gathering in his dantian.
Lu Zhen rubbed his eyes hard...
The panel immediately transformed into a translucent character status window.
Lu Zhen (30 years old) Money: 4 silver dollars Current Profession: Rickshaw Puller Level: Daily Settlement Lv.1 (0/50) Skills: Pulling a Rickshaw Lv.1 (5/50) Physique: Meridians Blocked Lv.1 (5/50) General Experience: 5 points
Lu Zhen stared at the "Money: 4 silver dollars" entry on the panel, his hand instinctively reaching into his clothes.
Originally, he'd only had the two silver dollars his sister gave him.
But now...
One, two... three, four?
He really had two more!
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