Tell You Something

Qi, the constable captain, was at his wits' end when Xu Qing stepped into the yamen.

Qi sat behind his desk, a thick stack of case files spread before him. The one on top had just been urgently delivered, its ink not yet dry.

One hand kneaded his temple while the other gripped the corner of a file. His brows were twisted into a knot as he muttered something under his breath.

Hearing footsteps, he did not even look up, merely waved a hand. "Since you're back, go patrol the streets once. Today's customary money will be paid as usual. Nothing will be deducted."

Xu Qing acknowledged him and turned to leave.

He made a round along South Street and West Street. The shopkeepers of several stores piled on smiles when they saw him, clasping their hands and calling, "Greetings, Officer." He nodded in return, neither warm nor cold—never making people feel close to him, but never making them think him arrogant either.

What he did not know was that no sooner had he left the martial hall than an attendant in blackish-gray training clothes arrived there.

The attendant held a gold-flecked invitation in his hands and knocked open the martial hall's gates.

Chen Wang went up to meet him and asked why he had come. The attendant said he was from the county assistant magistrate's residence, sent under the orders of the second young master, Su Changhe, to invite Young Master Xu Qing of the Zhao Family Martial Hall to a banquet at Lucky Auspice Restaurant that evening.

"Xu Qing?" Chen Wang froze for a moment, his brow creasing slightly. He turned back to look at Xu Qing, who was practicing his stance in the training yard. Xu Qing's legs trembled, his waist and hips stiff as a door plank, his stance crooked and unsteady.

Chen Wang turned back, intending to ask for clarification, but the attendant had already stuffed the invitation into his hand and left.

Chen Wang stood where he was, holding the invitation. He lowered his head and looked at the name on it. It was indeed "Xu Qing." Then he looked up again at the figure swaying atop the Plum Blossom Stakes in the distance. Something felt off, but he could not say what.

Xu Qing was practicing his stance in the training yard. His calves shook, veins bulged on his forehead, and sweat streamed down from his temples into his collar, making him itch. He could not help wiping it away. Yet with that single motion, the stance he had worked so hard to hold immediately slackened again.

He had been at the martial hall for more than three months, but his Three Talents Stake had shown no improvement. Every time he practiced it, it felt like torture.

Yesterday, during his day off, he had gone with his mother Tong to visit his second uncle. That second uncle, who had always doted on him, no longer looked at him with the same warmth this time.

Xu Qing understood at once.

It was all because of Xu Qing!

Xu Qing had broken through to Bright Strength and taken up a constable's post. His second uncle must have thought Xu Qing had a promising future and now looked down on him. A stone seemed to press against his chest, leaving him unable to breathe. But he had no choice but to accept reality. Xu Qing truly was better than him in every way—far better.

Just as irritation churned in him, he saw Chen Wang walking toward him with an invitation. The card swayed in Chen Wang's hand, its gold-flecked cover flashing beneath the sunlight and making him squint.

He ended his stance with ill grace. His legs went soft, and he nearly lost his balance. He assumed Chen Wang was again sending him to run errands and do odd jobs, so his mouth drooped and his face stretched long.

"Junior Brother Xu." Chen Wang came before him and handed over the invitation. His tone was flat, his face expressionless. "The county assistant magistrate's second young master invites you to Lucky Auspice Restaurant for a banquet tonight."

Xu Qing thought he had misheard. He stood stunned for a long while, mouth slightly open and eyes fixed on Chen Wang. Only when Chen Wang stuffed the invitation into his hand did he finally react.

He looked down at the invitation in his hands, his fingers trembling slightly. He carefully opened it. Several lines were written on the gold-flecked paper in an elegant hand and courteous wording, signed with the three characters: "Su Changhe."

His eyes flew wide open, his mouth hanging agape. It was as if someone had smacked the back of his head with a brick. He was completely dumbstruck.

The county assistant magistrate's second young master, Su Changhe?

Inviting him to a banquet at Lucky Auspice Restaurant?

Lucky Auspice Restaurant was the finest restaurant in the county town. A single banquet there cost more silver than his family spent in an entire year. Every time he passed that street, he would look up at it, swallow his saliva, and think that once he made something of himself, he would definitely go inside and feast to his heart's content.

He had never even entered Lucky Auspice Restaurant in his life. And now someone was inviting him to a banquet? A young master from the county assistant magistrate's family, no less?

Xu Qing turned the invitation over and over, examining it three times. He confirmed that he was not dreaming, that no one was playing a joke on him. A rush of heat shot from the soles of his feet straight to his head, setting his cheeks aflame and making his heart pound faster and faster.

He clenched the invitation tightly. The corners of his mouth curled upward on their own, so high that he could not press them down.

"Even the county assistant magistrate's son is inviting me to a banquet now." He gritted his teeth until they clicked, vicious delight suddenly surging through him. Let's see who still dares look down on me!

After Xu Qing finished patrolling the streets and bid farewell to his aunt and uncle, he headed for the martial hall.

He still had to practice his stance and boxing. He could not miss a single day.

He had inadvertently provoked someone he should not have, and he understood that better than anyone. The matter of the Leviathan Gang had been handled cleanly, without leaving a trace, but Lin Mu was no fool. Sooner or later, he would catch the scent.

Xu Qing had to become stronger—strong enough that no one would dare touch his family, strong enough that no one would dare mention the name "Lin Mu" before him.

The moment he entered the martial hall's courtyard, a figure sidled up to him, like a dog that had been guarding the place specifically waiting for him.

Xu Qing.

He held the invitation in his hand and deliberately let it show. His face was brimming with smugness, the corners of his mouth raised, the corners of his eyes raised—his entire body, from head to toe, screamed, "Look at me showing off."

"Oh, Junior Brother Xu, back from patrolling the streets?" Xu Qing's voice was neither loud nor soft, just enough for the nearby fellow disciples to hear. "Let me tell you something. Young Master Su from the county assistant magistrate's residence invited me to Lucky Auspice Restaurant for a banquet tonight."

He tipped back his head and lifted his chin high, holding up the invitation as he began to boast. "See this? This is what capability looks like. You think being some errand-running constable at the yamen makes you impressive?"

He bit down hard on the words "errand-running," his tone carrying naked contempt.

"Young Master Su would not even spare you a glance. But I'm different. A distinguished person personally sent me an invitation. What does that mean? It means he thinks highly of me."

He thrust out his chest and raised his chin higher still, until it was nearly level with the roof. "Don't think becoming a personal disciple at the martial hall makes you so great. In this world, martial skill alone is useless. You need connections. You need a path. Young Master Su invited me because he sees my potential. My future, Xu Qing's future, may not be any worse than yours."

Several disciples nearby turned to look. Some were curious, some envious, and they whispered among themselves.

Zhou Wen edged closer, like a dog that had caught the scent of meat. His eyes were locked on the invitation, shining like two bronze bells, as though he wanted to glue his eyeballs to it.

"Junior Brother Xu, you've got something going on! So that's why Senior Brother Chen was looking for you. And you kept it hidden? That's not very brotherly of you!" He slapped Xu Qing on the shoulder, knocking him sideways and making him stumble before he hurriedly straightened himself.

"Even a young master from the county assistant magistrate's residence is inviting you—you're about to rise in the world!" Zhou Wen showered him with flattery, so exaggerated that it sounded as if Xu Qing had already become the county magistrate. "When you make it big, don't forget your brother here!"

Xu Qing listened to Zhou Wen's praises, his shoulders jerking with each slap, the smile on his face impossible to contain. He cast a sidelong look at Xu Qing, waiting for him to show envy or jealousy.

Xu Qing looked at him without any expression at all.

As if he were looking at a stone. A piece of wood.

"Move."

The two words were not loud, and his tone was not heavy. Yet they seemed to have been fished out of an ice cellar, cold enough to pierce the bone, cold enough to make chills seep from the gaps in one's bones. Xu Qing involuntarily stepped half a pace aside.

Xu Qing walked past him without looking back. His pace was neither fast nor slow, exactly as usual, and he headed straight into the inner courtyard.

Xu Qing's smile froze on his face. It was like being slapped across the face—painful and burning. Before he could withdraw that smug expression, it shattered all over the ground.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He spat at Xu Qing's retreating back and muttered, "Pah! What are you putting on airs for?"

His voice was quiet, but the nearby disciples all heard it. They looked at one another, but no one responded.

Xu Qing felt too humiliated to bear it. His face burned as if he had been slapped in public. He turned and went to discuss what to wear that night with Zhou Wen.

The two huddled together, heads pressed close, whispering back and forth.

As they whispered, Wu Mingyuan walked over, his stride as calm and unhurried as ever.

He swept a glance over Xu Qing, his gaze falling on the invitation. Xu Qing hurriedly presented it with both hands, as respectfully as if submitting a memorial. "Senior Brother Wu, have a look."

Wu Mingyuan accepted it and lowered his head for a glance. His face showed no expression, but his finger paused briefly along the edge of the invitation—just for an instant, so brief it was nearly impossible to notice.

He tossed the invitation back to Xu Qing, gave a faint snort, and turned away to continue practicing his stance without offering even a single word of congratulations.

Xu Qing saw it clearly. In the instant Wu Mingyuan took the invitation, a glint flashed through his eyes and vanished. It was not approval. It was not gratification. It was envy, jealousy, a silent: Why wasn't it me?

Xu Qing's lips curved faintly upward. His chest puffed out without his noticing, and he lifted his head, widening the angle between his chin and the roof still further.

Even Wu Mingyuan was jealous.

At last, the knot in his heart loosened. Like a stifled thunderstorm that had been trapped all summer finally cracking down, followed by pouring rain—cool and wonderful.

If I can latch onto Su Changhe in the future, who will still bother watching your face, Wu Mingyuan?

In the inner courtyard, Xu Qing changed into training clothes, stepped onto the Plum Blossom Stakes, sank his shoulders and dropped his elbows, settled his qi into his dantian, and began throwing punch after punch.

Lucky Auspice Restaurant or Young Master Su—what did either have to do with him?

His path lay in his fists, not at a wine table.

The sky gradually darkened.

Xu Qing dawdled at home for a full half hour. He pressed his half-new blue cloth robe again and again, polished the jade pendant he had borrowed over and over, then spat into his palm and slicked back his hair until it gleamed so smoothly that even flies would slip if they landed on it.

Before leaving, he inspected himself again and again in the bronze mirror, turning left and right. Only after confirming that there was not a single thing amiss from head to toe did he take a deep breath and step out the door.

Lucky Auspice Restaurant stood at the busiest intersection in the eastern part of town. Its three-story wooden building had upturned eaves and pointed corners, with red lanterns hanging beneath them and casting a warm glow over the entire street. Several sedan chairs were parked before the entrance, their bearers squatting by the wall and chatting idly.

Xu Qing stood outside and looked up at the golden signboard. The three words "Lucky Auspice Restaurant" were written in bold, powerful strokes, like they had been carved by blade and axe. He swallowed, adjusted his collar, and stepped inside.

More than a dozen tables filled the main hall, every seat occupied as cups clinked and wine flowed.

A serving boy came up and gave him a quick once-over. The glance was swift as a gust of wind, yet Xu Qing felt that gust scrape from his face down to his feet, then sweep back up from his feet to his face.

The smile on the boy's face faded somewhat. "How many in your party, sir?"

"I... I'm here for a banquet. Young Master Su invited me." Xu Qing handed over the invitation, his voice a little tight.

The boy took the invitation and looked at it. His expression changed at once, his smile suddenly deepening with fawning warmth as he bent at the waist. "So you are Young Master Su's honored guest. This way upstairs, please. Upstairs, please."

He stepped aside, one hand hovering at the small of Xu Qing's back without actually touching his clothes, though the gesture was there. With the other hand, he indicated the stairs, his manner attentive enough to seem like he was serving his own father.

Xu Qing's back immediately straightened. His chest rose another notch, and even his breathing became much smoother.

He followed the serving boy upstairs.

On the third floor was the innermost private room.

The serving boy stopped before the door and knocked lightly three times.

After knocking, he stepped aside and extended a hand in invitation.