Old Acquaintance

The next day, dawn had barely broken.

The mist over the river had yet to disperse. The cold wind wrapped itself in dampness and burrowed straight down people's collars.

Lu Zhen pulled his rickshaw and had arrived early at Shiliupu Pier.

This was Ocean City's vital waterway artery. Merchants came from north and south, and Western steamships all docked here.

"Ooo—ooo!"

A deep ship whistle pierced the thick fog. On the river, a giant steel vessel flying the Stars and Stripes cleaved through the waves and slowly approached the shore.

"It's here! A big ship!"

"Look at that draft—there must be quite a few foreigners aboard!"

The crowd instantly erupted.

Those who could afford such Western liners were either rich or noble, and they were the most generous with their money.

A casual tip of a dime was enough to feed an ordinary person for two days.

If one was lucky enough to take a foreigner into the Concession, that was a fare of one or two silver dollars.

"Get them!"

Someone shouted.

The coachmen who had been squatting on the ground sprang up at once, grabbed their shafts, and charged toward the pier entrance.

In the past, because his legs were inconvenient, Lu Zhen had always been squeezed to the very outside. He could only pick up short-haul passengers no one wanted, or poor merchants carrying heaps of luggage who could not bear to spend money.

But today—

Lu Zhen drew a deep breath and clenched the shafts with both hands.

Ahead of him was a burly man who, relying on his broad frame and fat body, forcibly shoved two people aside.

Lu Zhen did not evade.

He aligned his waist and stance, then slammed his right foot into the ground.

A stream of heat surged from the sole of his foot straight to his waist.

That right leg, which had once held him back, now stood like an iron pillar, steadily supporting the force of his entire body.

"Make way!"

Lu Zhen called out low, and the wheels spun wildly.

His body swayed, and he slipped through the gap between the burly man and the others like a loach.

The burly man only saw a blur before his eyes. A gust of wind swept past, and the spot in front of him was gone.

"This Cripple Lu... since when was he so fast?"

While the burly man stood stunned, Lu Zhen had already rushed to the very front.

The gangplank had only just been set in place.

The first passengers were coming down.

Lu Zhen positioned his rickshaw right in the middle and lowered the shafts.

Once the gangplank was secure, the iron gate of first class opened with a clang.

Amid a crowd of foreigners in suits and leather shoes and Chinese compradors, one figure stood out strikingly.

A woman wore a tailored pale-purple Western dress and a wide-brimmed French sunhat. Its brim was pressed low, revealing only a stretch of snowy white, slender neck.

She carried an exquisite brown suitcase in one hand and wore white lace gloves. Supporting herself on the gangplank, she descended slowly.

The river wind blew past, lifting the broad brim of her hat slightly.

It revealed a cool, exquisite profile beneath.

The instant Lu Zhen's gaze touched that face, his body abruptly stiffened.

Xiao Yuqing.

Back at Jingcheng Middle School, she had been the school beauty and a martial arts prodigy.

Her father had also been the director of the Ocean City Education Bureau.

Back then, Lu Zhen had also been one of the top students in the Martial Arts Class, and he had crossed paths with her a few times.

By his count, they had not met for twelve years.

Judging by her Western manner from head to toe, she had presumably just returned from studying abroad.

Lu Zhen subconsciously lowered his head and looked himself over.

On his feet were black cloth shoes worn through at the toes. His trouser legs were rolled up to his knees, covered in river mud that had yet to dry.

The vest on his body had long been washed pale, and a dirty towel for wiping sweat still hung around his collar.

An indescribable heat rose to his cheeks, and Lu Zhen even wanted to turn his rickshaw around and leave.

But the next moment, he tugged at the corner of his mouth in self-mockery. What was he running for?

With his dark face, callused hands, and appearance of a rough laborer—

How could she possibly still recognize him?

Lu Zhen shook his head.

"To the French Concession. Cathay Hotel."

A voice from his memories rang out.

Xiao Yuqing seemed not to have recognized him.

Lu Zhen inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

He lowered his head even further and answered dully, "Yes, miss. Please sit tight."

About half an hour later, a wire fence and chevaux de frise appeared ahead. It was the checkpoint to the French Concession.

Outside the checkpoint, laborers waiting to enter the Concession to deliver goods or work stood in a long dragon-like line. Each kept his head down and shoulders hunched as they waited for the patrolmen to search and interrogate them.

Out of habit, Lu Zhen was about to slow down and line up.

"No need to queue over there."

Xiao Yuqing's calm voice came from behind him. "Take the right side—the martial artists' passage."

Lu Zhen froze.

The road on the right was broad and smooth, with no chevaux de frise. Only two patrolmen stood there, carrying long guns and holding wolfhounds on leashes.

It was a route reserved for foreigners of status, or martial masters with official rank.

If an ordinary coachman dared approach it, he would inevitably get a sound beating.

"Miss, I pull a rickshaw. I'm not qualified to use that road..." Lu Zhen explained quietly.

"Go as I said." Xiao Yuqing's tone was calm, yet brooked no refusal.

Lu Zhen could only brace himself, turn the rickshaw around, and head straight for the empty lane on the right.

As soon as he neared the checkpoint, the expressions of the two patrolmen, who had been smoking and chatting, changed at once.

One of them, a pockmarked patrolman, stepped forward. He slammed his rifle butt heavily against the ground and pointed at Lu Zhen as he cursed.

"Where did this blind dog come from? Is this a road you can use? Why don't you piss in a puddle and look at your own poor, shabby face? Get back and queue up!"

The wolfhound beside him also began barking wildly, baring its white fangs.

Just as Lu Zhen was about to stop and apologize, a hand in a white lace glove slowly extended from behind him to the front of the rickshaw.

Between two slender fingers was a palm-sized black iron plaque.

The plaque was small, but gold powder had been used to outline a roaring lion's head upon it. Beneath it were four vigorous Chinese characters—"Martial Alliance of the World."

And on the reverse were four small, gilded words.

[Hidden Force Martial Grandmaster]

The pockmarked patrolman had still been shouting, but the moment his gaze landed on the plaque, his eyes nearly popped out. The cigarette in his mouth fell to the ground with a patter.

"A... a Dark Force Grandmaster?!"

His whole body trembled. His back instantly bent, and his face piled up with fawning smiles.

"Oh, this lowly one failed to recognize Mount Tai! I didn't know a Grandmaster stood before me! Damn it! I truly deserve to die!"

As he slapped his own mouth, he frantically fished a red pass from the guard booth.

"Please! Please, go right ahead!"

The patrolman bowed as he carefully stuck the pass onto the mudguard of Lu Zhen's battered rickshaw.

When he was done, he even bowed and scraped to Lu Zhen. "Little brother, sorry for the trouble. Make sure you pull this carriage nice and steady."

Lu Zhen pulled the rickshaw through the checkpoint and onto the smooth, clean asphalt road.

Yet turbulent waves churned within his heart.

A Hidden Force Martial Grandmaster.

Lu Zhen had received formal training himself back then, so he knew the realms of martial arts all too well.

He had only just recovered and was currently at the early Force Refining Realm.

After that came the middle and late stages of Force Refining Realm, two great hurdles.

If he advanced further and trained all the qi and blood in his body into a unified whole, so that his force could penetrate beyond his skin and strike a person like hanging a painting, then he would become a Bright Force Martial Master.

Only upon reaching Bright Force could one truly enter the hall.

Such people, if they opened schools and accepted disciples, were revered as masters. If they joined the army, they started as platoon or company officers. Even in these Concessions where foreigners ran rampant, they could hold their heads high, and foreigners would have to show them some measure of courtesy.

But above Bright Force was Dark Force.

It meant transforming fierce and rigid force, drawing it into the marrow, and with a movement of the Intent, closing one's pores to lock in all one's essence, qi, and spirit without leaking a trace.

When they struck, they did so silently and invisibly. A palm that looked soft and limp actually carried needle-like force, capable of shattering a person's internal organs through a thick cotton quilt and killing without drawing blood.

Such people possessed endurance as lasting as a horse's and senses as sharp as a god's. Even a dozen burly men with guns might not be able to harm them at close range.

At that point, one was respectfully called a Grandmaster.

In these troubled times, a Dark Force Grandmaster—whether seated as an honored guest of a warlord or hired by a foreign trading house as an offering master—was a great figure who shook an entire region, with a status comparable to a provincial military governor.

Lu Zhen tightened his grip on the shafts.

Twelve years. Xiao Yuqing had actually become a Dark Force Grandmaster?

Back when they were in school, they had been classmates. Though their family backgrounds had differed, they could at least exchange a few moves in martial arts class.

Now, twelve years later, she had become someone capable of founding her own school, while he still sold his labor in the Ten-Mile Foreign Field just to put food on the table.

Lu Zhen sighed inwardly, exerted force through his feet, and sent the wheels rolling swiftly. He only wanted to deliver this great Buddha as soon as possible, take his money, and leave.

Before long, the rickshaw turned onto a broad avenue lined with plane trees.

A grand white Western-style mansion came into view.

Its ornate black iron gates were shut tight. Black automobiles stood in the courtyard, and a gatekeeper in livery waited by the entrance.

"We're here."

Lu Zhen came to a steady stop, gently lowered the shafts, and bent his body low in the same motion.

The iron gates opened with a creak.

A young maid in a pink short jacket, her hair tied into twin buns, hurried out.

At the sight of Xiao Yuqing, the maid's face immediately blossomed into a smile, and she cried in a clear voice.

"Miss! You're finally back! Master and Madam have been waiting anxiously in the hall!"

As she spoke, her nimble eyes swept to the side, catching sight of the half-worn rickshaw and the coachman reeking of sweat.

The young maid's pretty face instantly fell. She hurried forward, reaching out to support Xiao Yuqing while pinching her nose and complaining.

"Miss, how could you come back in this sort of carriage?"

"Master clearly sent that Ford automobile to the pier to pick you up. If people saw the Eldest Miss Xiao riding in such a filthy rickshaw, how humiliating would that be?"

As she spoke, she shot Lu Zhen a disdainful glare, as though she were looking at something unclean.

Xiao Yuqing's expression remained indifferent, and she did not respond to that.

She smoothed her skirt and said softly, "Enough, Xiao Ran. Stop talking. Pay the fare."

The maid named Xiao Ran curled her lips, looking thoroughly unwilling.

She pulled two silver dollars from the purse in her sleeve and casually tossed them into Lu Zhen's arms.

"Take it!"

Xiao Ran lifted her chin. "Two silver dollars. No need for change. The rest is a tip for tea. Keep your eyes open in the future—don't dare pull just anyone. Is this place somewhere you can enter whenever you please?"

Lu Zhen caught the two silver coins with both hands.

He said nothing, only answered dully.

"Thanks."

After saying that, Lu Zhen bent down, lifted the shafts, turned the rickshaw around, and breathed a sigh of relief.

At the entrance to the mansion.

Xiao Ran was about to help her mistress carry the suitcase when she looked up and saw that Xiao Yuqing had not entered.

The eldest miss, usually so cool and proud, was now gazing thoughtfully in the direction where that coachman had disappeared.

"Miss?"

Following her gaze, Xiao Ran asked in confusion, "What are you looking at?"

Xiao Yuqing shook her head, returning to her usual coolness.

"Nothing. Let's go inside."