Cold and Warm

In the backyard of the Xingyi Martial Arts Hall, Chen Jianghe stood beneath the old locust tree, having held the Three-Body Stance for nearly three hours.

[Current Skill: Three-Body Stance (Mastery)]
[Progress: 98%]
[Current Skill: Five Elements Fist (Mastery)]
[Progress: 70%]
[Current Skill: Phantom Shadow Steps (Novice)]
[Progress: 16%]
[Effect: Internalized force, penetrates the body to shatter meridians]

For the past half-month, he had practiced his fists and footwork by day and studied the Phantom Shadow Steps manual by night. Though his progress was steady, one matter had weighed on his mind: he had returned from Black Wind Ridge several days ago, yet Su Derong had not shown his face even once.

This was unusual.

Given Third Senior Brother's usual temperament, no matter how busy he was, he would typically swing by the martial arts hall every few days, fanning himself as he strolled in to drag Chen Jianghe to the Zuichun Brothel to "see the world" or gossip about the latest scandals in the inner city.

As he pondered this, the courtyard gate creaked open.

Chen Jianghe looked up and was slightly taken aback.

Su Derong walked in, fanning himself with his usual unhurried gait, but his complexion betrayed an irrepressible fatigue. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes, as if he hadn't slept well in nights.

"Yo, Junior Brother, still training?" Su Derong pulled at the corners of his mouth, his face assuming its habitual lazy smile. "So diligent—you make me feel quite ashamed, Senior Brother that I am."

Chen Jianghe turned and cupped his fists: "Third Senior Brother."

Su Derong walked over to the stone table and sat down, resting his fan on his knees. He remained silent for a moment.

He looked up at Chen Jianghe, his voice still carrying that airy, light tone, yet stripped of its usual banter: "Jianghe, there is something I must tell you."

Chen Jianghe walked over and sat opposite him: "Please speak, Senior Brother."

"The monthly stipend from the escort agency, and the beast meat allotment..."

Su Derong paused, rubbed his nose, and feigned a relaxed air. "I'm afraid it will be a few days late. The agency... has run into some trouble, and cash flow is a bit tight."

He hesitated, then added, "But don't you worry. In half a month at most, it will be made up."

Chen Jianghe was silent for a moment before speaking slowly: "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Su Derong froze, then laughed—a laugh that sounded far more genuine this time. "What could you possibly help with? Just train your fists well and break through to Transforming Strength as soon as possible; that is what truly matters. Once you reach Transforming Strength, I can bask in your glory. When we go to a restaurant to listen to music, I can drop the name 'Chen Jianghe' and maybe even get a discount."

He stood up, snapped his fan open, and gave it a few light waves before his chest, reverting to his usual irreverent self. "Right, the message is delivered. I have some business to attend to, so I'll be off."

"Senior Brother," Chen Jianghe called out to him.

Su Derong looked back.

Chen Jianghe was silent for a moment before saying, "Take care."

Su Derong blinked, then grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth: "Don't worry."

He turned and walked toward the gate. When he reached it, he paused, didn't look back, and simply waved his hand: "Train hard."

Chen Jianghe stood under the locust tree, watching Su Derong's back disappear beyond the gate.

In the inner city of Yilin County, the main street was as bustling as ever.

When Su Derong emerged from the heavy, black-lacquered doors of the Yongsheng Money House, the sky had turned completely dark.

This was the seventh place he had visited today.

And the seventh time he had been politely turned away.

The shopkeeper of the money house was a chubby middle-aged man named Qian, who had received favors from Grandfather Su in his younger years.

Just moments ago in the back room, Shopkeeper Qian had rubbed his hands together, his face plastered with an apologetic smile:

"Young Gang Leader Su, it isn't that I don't want to help. It's just... you know how the world is these days. The Green Dragon Gang is powerful, and several of the escort routes outside the city have been cut off. The current state of your Su Family Escort Agency... heh heh, it's not that I don't trust you, but the rules of the money house must be followed. Collateral, do you understand? You need something of value—land deeds, house deeds, antiques, or treasures... With nothing but empty words, I truly find myself in a difficult position."

Su Derong had smiled and nodded at the time: "Understood, understood."

He lifted his teacup and took a sip; the tea was of inferior quality, brewed thick and bitter.

In the end, unable to save face, Shopkeeper Qian fished a small cloth bundle from beneath the counter, pushed it forward, and lowered his voice: "This is fifty taels... of gold. I am lending it to you personally; it isn't on the money house's books. As for the interest, I'll charge the lowest market rate. Young Gang Leader Su, let us be clear—you must return this money... as soon as possible."

Su Derong took the bundle; it felt heavy in his hand.

Fifty taels of gold.

In the past, this would have been nothing more than his pocket money.

But now, it was life-saving coin bought by exhausting the last of his father's goodwill.

It was still a long way from the four-hundred-tael gold deficit facing the escort agency.

"Many thanks, Shopkeeper Qian." Su Derong stood up, his smile not fading in the slightest. "Within three months, principal and interest, I will certainly repay you."

"Easily said, easily said." Shopkeeper Qian saw him to the door, then suddenly lowered his voice: "Young Gang Leader Su, take a word of advice from me. In the current situation... when it is time to let go, you must let go. As long as the green hills remain, there is no need to worry about firewood."

Su Derong paused, didn't look back, simply waved his hand, and strode into the cold wind.

He visited several more mansions belonging to wealthy young men he had once called brothers.

The results were much the same.

Some gatekeepers simply said, "The young master is not in," sparing him even the formality of an announcement.

Others actually granted him an audience, but before the tea was even served, they would begin to lament their own hardships, claiming business was difficult and capital was tight, before finally tossing him ten or twenty taels of silver.

The most callous of them all was the young master of the silk shop in the west of the city, surnamed Sun.

Back in the day, Su Derong had frequently taken him to brothels, and Su Derong had always footed the bill.

Today, Young Master Sun sat in the parlor, legs crossed, toying with a mutton-fat jade pendant in his hand without even lifting his eyelids. "Brother Su, it's not that I don't want to help you. But how many escort routes does your Su Family Escort Agency even have left? I heard you lost another shipment a few days ago, and five or six men died? Tsk, tsk. This line of work, licking blood off a blade, is no long-term plan. If you ask me, you should fold the business early. With your skills, Brother Su, wouldn't it be better to work as a head guard for some household than what you're doing now?"

Su Derong held his teacup, his fingertips icy cold.

He smiled and gently placed the cup back on the table. "Brother Sun is right. I've troubled you today."

"Brother Sun is right. I've troubled you today." Only then did Young Master Sun lift his eyelids, fish a twenty-tael silver note from his robe, and toss it casually onto the table. "Take this to cover your emergencies. We've been brothers, after all; I can't just watch you starve to death."

The silver note fluttered down onto the table.

Su Derong looked at that note for three breaths.

Then, he reached out, picked it up, folded it, and tucked it into his robe, his smile remaining unchanged. "Many thanks, Brother Sun. Let us meet again another day."

He turned and walked out of the parlor, the sound of Young Master Sun's mocking whisper trailing behind him: "Another day? The Su Family ship is clearly about to sink..."

The voice wasn't loud, but it was just enough for him to hear.

Su Derong did not stop, his hand inside his sleeve slowly clenching.

But when he reached the courtyard gate, that hand loosened again.

He could not burn bridges.

At least, not yet.

He needed money, even if it was just a twenty-tael silver note.

As night deepened, Su Derong walked back along the long street, his footsteps faltering as he passed the Zuichun Brothel.

The building was ablaze with lights, filled with the sounds of strings and flutes, and the faint, melodic singing of women drifted out, mingled with the raucous laughter of patrons.

Once upon a time, he had been a regular here.

The best private room, the finest wine, the most beautiful girls—as long as he, the Young Gang Leader Su, spoke up, the manager would always greet him with a beaming smile.

Now...

He pulled at the corner of his mouth in self-mockery and was about to walk around it when a sudden commotion erupted inside.

"Instructor Zhao! You are a rare guest! Please, to the private room upstairs; we have kept it reserved for you!"

"Hmm."

Su Derong's footsteps stiffened.

He turned his head slowly and, through the gaps in the carved window lattice, saw Zhao Mingyuan walking into the main hall with several men.

Following behind him were Li Tian and two young martial artists he didn't recognize; judging by their attire and bearing, they were likely new guards recruited by the Zhao Family.

As the group was about to head upstairs, Li Tian suddenly glanced outside, his eyes lighting up. He tugged on Zhao Mingyuan's sleeve and whispered something.

Zhao Mingyuan stopped and turned to look toward the door.

His gaze collided directly with Su Derong's.

Separated by the lattice, separated by the lamplight, separated by a distance of thirty feet.

Zhao Mingyuan's expression was indifferent, yet a faint arc tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He didn't speak, just watched him like that.

Li Tian, however, suddenly raised his voice, his tone filled with undisguised mockery: "Yo, isn't this Junior Brother Su? What's the matter, standing outside drinking the wind? Do you want to come in? Shall I, your Second Senior Brother, treat you to a drink?"

Many guests inside turned to look.

Those who recognized Su Derong began to whisper: "It's that Young Gang Leader from the Su Family..."

"I heard the Su Family Escort Agency is finished; they're buried in debt."

"Tsk, tsk. He was so glorious in the past, and now he can't even afford to enter the Zuichun Brothel?"

Zhao Mingyuan raised a hand, stopping Li Tian from continuing his taunts.

He looked at Su Derong and spoke slowly, his voice not loud, yet every word was clear: "Su Derong? Nothing but a stray dog."

With that, he turned and headed straight upstairs, never looking back again.

Li Tian grinned at Su Derong before following him up.

The music of strings and flutes resumed inside, and the patrons' attention was quickly drawn back to their own revelry, continuing to toast and chat.

It was as if that moment had been nothing more than an insignificant interlude.

Su Derong stood in the cold wind outside the door.

The fist inside his sleeve clenched once more.

His knuckles turned white, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged.

He stared at Zhao Mingyuan's retreating back, watching the door to the private room slowly close, a flash of crimson flickering in his eyes.

Su Derong stood rooted to the spot for a full ten breaths.

Then, he slowly unclenched his fist.

A faint "crack" sounded as his joints relaxed.

The rigid expression on his face melted away bit by bit, replaced once again by that signature cynical smirk.

He straightened his lapels, snapped open his fan, and turned to leave.