Misunderstanding

During his days at the martial hall, Xu Qing had seen clearly how everyone in the courtyard viewed him.

Wu Mingyuan's group turned their faces faster than pages. Once they learned that Dark Force was the end of the road for him, they would not even lift an eyelid. Zhou Wen and Xu Qing were even more scathing and sarcastic, wishing he would pack up and get out of the martial hall tomorrow.

The other senior brothers and sisters were also waiting to see him make a fool of himself. They did not say it aloud, but the gloating in their eyes could not be hidden.

Only Qin Liang had never changed since the first day.

Watching Qin Liang's faintly trembling shoulders, Xu Qing recalled his first day at the martial hall.

When meals were served, Qin Liang had smiled and said, "Junior Brother Xu, come on. I'll take you to the water room. Tonight's staple is white-flour steamed buns, so make sure you fill up!" That smile had been clean and simple, without scrutiny or testing.

Later, when the senior brothers and sisters in the courtyard mocked him for having no more than Dark Force, Qin Liang had smiled and comforted him. "Ignore those people. They can't eat grapes, so they call them sour. If you can't make it, they definitely can't either." When he said that, Qin Liang had not hesitated in the slightest. His words were as final as nails driven into iron.

On the day Xu Qing broke through to Dark Force, the others' teasing buzzed around the training ground like flies. Yet Qin Liang's face had blossomed with delight. He had said from the bottom of his heart, "Junior Brother Xu, congratulations!" That one word, "congratulations," had been truer than anyone else's.

Xu Qing remembered that bond.

"Senior Brother Qin, I'll help you with this." Xu Qing's voice was not loud, but it was steady. "Tomorrow morning, I'll report in and officially take up the post. Then I'll go with you to Green Willow Street. Don't worry tonight. Go back and tell your father not to be afraid."

Qin Liang's eyes reddened at once.

His lips trembled a few times. He wanted to say thank you, but it was as if something had lodged in his throat. He only nodded hard before turning and going back into the room.

He walked quickly, as though fleeing, plunging into the room without stopping for a single step. He was afraid Xu Qing would see him cry.

Sun Ping stood beside them and had listened from beginning to end. He had held his bowl for ages, yet his chopsticks had not moved once. The food had long since gone cold.

He looked at Qin Liang's retreating back, then at Xu Qing. He said nothing, only sighed silently.

That night, Qin Liang went home.

Sun Ping followed Xu Qing to train extra in the martial arts ground. One before the other, the two tirelessly held stances and practiced their fists, training until the moonlight faded, all around them fell silent, and they were utterly exhausted.

Early the next morning, when the sky was only beginning to lighten, Xu Qing went to the yamen.

After he reported in and received his assignment, Constable Qi pointed at a man in his thirties nearby. The man was leaning against a pillar and yawning, with eye gunk still clinging to the corners of his eyes. "This is Old Xue, Xue Guang. Have him familiarize you with the streets. From now on, just patrol with him."

Xue Guang wore a half-new constable's uniform, with several grease stains on the lapels that would not wash out. A saber hung at his waist, its scabbard knocking against the pillar with a clanging sound.

His eyes were narrowed, and he looked as though he had not awakened yet. But now and then, a sharp gleam flashed through those slitted eyes. That was something only an old hand in the martial world possessed. It could not be trained—it had been carved into him, stroke by stroke, by eight years of wind and frost on the streets.

He had heard Constable Qi mention how Xu Qing had defeated a Rushing Thunder Martial Academy disciple with one punch yesterday. He had spent eight years in the yamen and was himself a seasoned Dark Force practitioner. He had seen plenty of scenes, seen young men show off, and seen experts exchange blows. Yet he knew he absolutely could not have done the same.

To knock someone of the same realm to the ground with one punch and leave him unable to rise—how much strength did that take? How fast had that punch been?

He understood it clearly: this young man had a boundless future ahead of him. Building a good relationship now was far better than trying to cling to his coattails later. Giving charcoal in snowy weather and adding flowers to brocade—any fool knew which to choose.

"Brother Xu, come on. I'll show you around." Xue Guang opened his eyes wide, smiled warmly, and patted Xu Qing on the shoulder. The gesture was natural and friendly.

The moment the two stepped out of the yamen gates, they saw Qin Liang squatting beside the stone lions. His face was pale from the cold, his lips purple, and even his breath came out white.

When he saw Xu Qing emerge, he sprang to his feet. His legs had gone numb from squatting, and he staggered. The soles of his shoes slipped on the stone steps, and he had to grab the stone lion to steady himself.

"Junior Brother Xu..." His voice was a little hoarse, and his eyes were full of expectation and unease.

Xue Guang glanced at Qin Liang. His gaze swept from Qin Liang's frozen pale face to his trembling legs, then turned to Xu Qing. "Brother Xu, who's this?"

Xu Qing briefly explained what had happened to Qin Liang's family. After hearing it, Xue Guang's smile faded somewhat. His narrowed eyes opened a little wider, revealing a flicker of sharpness. The corner of his mouth curled in disdain, and he gave a light snort.

"Tiger Head Gang?" His tone was casual. "One of the two local snakes on West Street. Not long ago, they snatched Green Willow Street from Azure Flood Dragon Hall. I'd say they want to use this as an excuse to squeeze out more protection money. This is simple."

He looked at Qin Liang and spoke casually. "Where on Green Willow Street is your father's stall?"

Qin Liang hurriedly told him the location.

Xue Guang waved a hand, his sleeve stirring the air. "Come on, Brother Xu. Let's head to Green Willow Street first."

The three of them briskly made their way toward West Street.

Xu Qing followed behind Xue Guang, watching him swagger down the street. The saber at his waist swayed back and forth, its bronze fittings flashing in the morning light.

Pedestrians on the road all moved aside when they saw him. Those carrying shoulder poles turned sideways, those pushing carts slowed down, and even the beggars by the roadside shifted their bowls inward. Everyone feared getting in his way.

A complicated feeling suddenly welled up in Xu Qing's heart. This uniform, this waist token, this saber—these were confidence. Not the confidence of fists, but the confidence of rules. No matter how hard a fist was, blood still had to be wiped away after the fight. But when this uniform stood there, blood did not need to be shed at all.

When they reached Green Willow Street, they spotted Old Qin's wonton stall from afar.

The stall was small, with a few tables and several long benches. The tabletops had been worn smooth and shiny, while the pot on the stove gave off no steam today.

Two men sat beside the stall, one bald and the other with a pair of thin mustaches. They lounged on the benches with their legs crossed, their feet resting on another bench.

Old Qin squatted behind the stove and did not dare raise his head.

Xue Guang walked over without saying a word and simply stood there, looking down at the two men. He stood casually, one hand resting on his saber hilt, his thumb slowly rubbing the bronze band around it.

The bald man raised his head first. He saw the constable's uniform, then looked higher and saw Xue Guang's face staring down at him. His expression changed abruptly. He hurriedly stood straight, lowered his head, and bent at the waist, his voice trembling. "Master Xue, we weren't causing trouble. We were just sitting here to rest our feet."

The mustached man also scrambled to his feet. The bench fell over with a clang, but he did not dare pick it up. He hunched his neck and barely dared breathe. His hands did not know where to go, and in the end they hung limply at his sides, like two sun-withered eggplants.

Xue Guang ignored him.

He turned back and looked at Xu Qing, grinning. His smile seemed to say, See? This is all it takes. Then he looked at Qin Liang. Qin Liang stood behind Xu Qing, clutching the corner of his clothes so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

Xue Guang drew back his gaze and spoke. His voice was not loud, but it carried an unquestionable tone. "Go. Call Wei Shan over. Tell him Xue Guang from the yamen wants to catch up with him."

Xue Guang had worked in the yamen for years. He knew which gang controlled every street in the county town, as well as the ranks of their leaders, large and small, and even the people behind them.

He knew whom he could not provoke, which matters he could not meddle in, whom he should show respect to, and which matters he should hold onto without letting go. These eight years had not been spent idly.

The bald man did not dare utter a word of refusal. With his head lowered, he hurried off, nearly running as he vanished into the alley. The mustached man stood there, unable either to leave or stay. His feet seemed glued to the ground, an awkward smile hanging on his face. He looked exactly like a leashed monkey.

In less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, a man in his thirties rushed over.

The newcomer was Wei Shan, a minor leader of the Tiger Head Gang. A Dark Force practitioner, he called the shots throughout this part of West Street. Collecting protection money, lending at usurious rates, settling disputes for others—he did everything.

Wei Shan wore a gray cloth short jacket. A scar ran across his face, stretching from the end of his eyebrow to his cheekbone, making him look rather fierce.

But the instant he saw Xue Guang, all the savagery vanished from his face. The scar remained, yet the face beneath it changed—from a vicious dog into a lapdog.

He bent at the waist, piled on a smile, and clasped his hands. His voice was soft and gentle. "Master Xue, what wind has blown you here? The men below don't know any better. Please be generous with them." His gaze swept over Xu Qing and Qin Liang behind Xue Guang, then quickly withdrew.

Xue Guang did not respond. He pointed at Old Qin, then at the shattered bowls and plates on the ground and the overturned benches.

"Old Wei, the owner of this stall is my friend's father." Xue Guang's voice was bland. "You lost three taels of silver here, but the owner never even saw it. Why are you demanding silver from him?"

Wei Shan's smile stiffened for a moment, and his eyes shifted twice. He was calculating, weighing, measuring the gains and losses.

"Master Xue, the men below got it wrong. A misunderstanding—it was all a misunderstanding." Wei Shan bent another degree lower.

"A misunderstanding?" Xue Guang's tone remained bland, but he took his hand off his saber hilt and folded his arms, looking Wei Shan up and down. "A misunderstanding gives you the right to smash someone's stall? To extort three taels of silver from him?"

Wei Shan's expression changed. His cheek twitched, and the scar twisted with it, making him look somewhat chilling.

Though he and Xue Guang were both Dark Force experts, Xue Guang was a man of the yamen. He had official status, while Wei Shan was a criminal. It was only natural for officials to punish criminals. Besides, he had deliberately ordered his men to extort the money. If this matter reached the higher-ups, he would gain nothing from it.

"Master Xue, what do you say we should do?" Wei Shan stopped trying to explain and bent even lower.

Xue Guang looked at Qin Liang, then at Xu Qing. He slowly withdrew his gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly with the craftiness of an old hand in the martial world.

"What should we do? First, apologize to the owner. Second, compensate him according to the value of what you damaged. Third—" He drew out the last word, his gaze resting on Wei Shan's face for a moment. "Forget about those three taels of silver you lost. Let this matter end here."

"Yes, yes, yes. Master Xue is right. Of course, of course." Wei Shan nodded repeatedly.

He turned and clasped his hands toward Old Qin. "Boss Qin, I'm sorry. The men below didn't know any better and offended you. Please be magnanimous and don't take it to heart."

He took several bits of broken silver from his robes and offered them with both hands. "This is compensation for your tables, chairs, bowls, and plates. Please accept it."

Old Qin's body trembled uncontrollably. He hurriedly waved his hands and did not dare accept the silver. "N-no need to compensate me... The tables, chairs, bowls, and plates aren't worth much."

Xu Qing could see Old Qin's fear. It was not politeness—he was truly afraid. Xu Qing had seen this kind of fear countless times in Blackwater Bay. Those fishing families bullied by gangs all their lives had their fish stolen and boats smashed, yet still forced smiles and said, "It's fine." That fear grew from their bones, seeped into their blood, and could never be washed away.

At that moment, Xu Qing spoke. His voice was soft, yet steady enough to put people at ease. "Uncle, it's all right. Take the silver."

"Exactly. Take it. We should compensate you." Wei Shan stuffed the broken silver into Old Qin's hand. He did not use much force, but there was no room for refusal.

Wei Shan turned around, his gaze falling on Xu Qing. Xu Qing's constable's uniform and the saber at his waist clearly marked him as another constable. A trace of puzzlement flashed through Wei Shan's eyes.

Xue Guang noticed the confusion in Wei Shan's eyes and introduced him with a smile. "This is Brother Xu Qing, a top disciple of the Zhao Family Martial Hall. From now on, he'll patrol these nearby streets with me. You'll have dealings with each other."

"Greetings, Master Xu!" Wei Shan was quite tactful. He clasped his hands and bowed to Xu Qing, bending deeply at the waist. His face was wreathed in smiles, but his eyes secretly appraised Xu Qing, and no one knew what he was thinking.

Xu Qing returned the salute with neither servility nor arrogance, his face revealing neither joy nor anger.

"Master Xue, Master Xu, if there's nothing else, I'll take my leave," Wei Shan said again.

Xue Guang said nothing. He merely waved a hand casually, as though shooing away an annoying fly.

The smile remained on Wei Shan's face. He clasped his hands toward the two again, his waist bending and straightening, straightening and bending.

Then he turned around and hurried away with his men.