Third Master (Please Keep Reading)

"Extra toppings?"

The old woman deftly ladled out a bowl of soup, then scooped up a small spoonful of pig's blood and offal, shaking it and shaking it.

The scent of spices, mingled with the distinctive aroma of organs, rushed into his nose.

"Granny, stop shaking your hand. Once I, A-Wen, make it big, I'll add a dollar's worth of toppings here every day and support your business."

Li Xiuwen could not help saying it. The old woman's hand shook even worse than the lunch ladies'; she even pinched pennies over a few pieces of pig's blood.

"By the time you make it big, this old granny will already be in the ground."

"How could that be? I, A-Wen, already asked Buddha. Granny, you're so kind—you'll definitely live to a hundred."

"I believe in the Lord."

"It's all the same."

"Granny, where's your son? He's not helping you out anymore?"

"My A-Hua has grown sensible. These past few days, he found a job doing manual labor, earning money to support me in my old age."

As she spoke, the old woman revealed a gratified smile.

"That's good. If A-Hua can support himself, you'll be able to leave in peace someday."

A-Hua had a congenital intellectual disability. He was already over thirty, unmarried, and still had to rely on the old woman to support him.

Before long,

Li Xiuwen had finished a bowl of pig's blood, drinking every last drop.

"More soup!"

"Did you reincarnate as a starving ghost? This pot of ancestral secret soup of mine—you've drunk half the pot all by yourself."

The old woman took the bowl. Though reluctant, she still ladled him a large, brimming bowlful.

"I've made up my mind... I'm going to buy some flatbread. Granny, don't clear away my bowl. I'll want another refill after I finish."

"Refill my ass. I'm closing up."

Li Xiuwen ran to the flatbread shop across the street and waited for fresh griddle cakes to come out of the oven.

He had just bought the flatbread and had not even stepped outside when he heard a clang from across the way. A bowl had probably fallen to the ground.

He looked out through the window.

Over at the pig's blood stall, a tall figure dressed in a careless, slovenly manner held a flip-flop in one hand, with one foot planted on the table where Li Xiuwen had been eating.

It was Brother Ji.

The Thirteen Guardians had come to stir up trouble. The few diners left in the shop all lowered their heads and left, not daring to meet his eyes.

"Granny, did you know your son owes me money?" Brother Ji casually grabbed a handful of pig offal from a basin and stuffed it into his mouth, acting as though he had returned to his own home.

"How could that be? My A-Hua never borrows money from anyone." The old woman's face looked awful. She knew Brother Ji had come looking for trouble again.

Brother Ji clapped his hands. Two little thugs emerged from the dark alley, dragging out a figure whose face was battered and bruised, his mouth full of bloody foam.

"Ask your precious son."

The old woman hurried forward to help A-Hua up and asked, "What happened? You owe someone money? How much?"

A-Hua lowered his head and cried shakily, "Mum, I... I don't know. Brother Ji said he'd give me candy pills to eat. After I ate them, he said I owed him money."

"What candy pills?" Suddenly, the old woman's expression changed. Her son's eyes looked somewhat like those of the Dragon-Chasing Duke on Guangwang Street.

Hollow. Numb. Without the slightest glimmer of life.

She pointed tremblingly at Brother Ji. "You tricked A-Hua into touching that stuff. Do you have any humanity left? You knew A-Hua was a fool!"

Brother Ji spread his hands and smiled. "I didn't trick him. He wanted to eat it himself... right, boys?" He looked toward the other thugs.

"That's right. This fool wanted to eat it himself. What's it got to do with us?"

"You old hag, pay up now! Otherwise, we Thirteen Guardians will smash your stall to pieces."

The old woman silently wiped away her tears. Urged on by the thugs, she went inside and turned the place upside down, finally taking out a scattered stack of crumpled bills and coins.

"How much does he owe you?"

"Three hundred. With interest, make it four hundred. I've always respected the old and cared for the young." Brother Ji stuck his hands into his pockets and smiled crookedly.

The old woman carefully counted the money, counting it over several times, afraid of giving too much.

"Count your mother. Asking for four hundred is already merciful of me." The impatient Brother Ji snatched all the old woman's money and turned to leave with his men.

The old woman was dragged to the ground and split her head open. She climbed up and cried out, "That's my coffin money! You can't take all of it!"

After Brother Ji and his group had completely disappeared, Li Xiuwen came out of the flatbread shop, helped the old woman up, then went to the clinic next door to buy her a bandage.

"Granny, don't let A-Hua go out anymore. Lock him inside the house. The stronghold is getting more and more chaotic..."

After helping the old woman tidy up her wrecked stall,

Li Xiuwen looked in the direction Brother Ji and the others had gone.

He drew a deep breath, clenched his five fingers until they creaked,

then turned around and headed toward the martial arts hall.

The stronghold was small, no bigger than a pellet.

Yet the stronghold was also vast. The people here had developed the use of space to its utmost limit.

People often said the stronghold was divided on the surface into five districts: east, west, south, north, and central.

In reality, there were two more districts that had been overlooked: the Rooftop District and the Sewer District.

These two districts crisscrossed in every direction and were best suited for concealing filth and harboring scum. They were battlegrounds that the lowlife thugs of the stronghold fought tooth and nail to claim.

The Thirteen Guardians of Longjin Road were hiding in a secluded dead end of the sewers.

"Third Master..."

Brother Ji, usually so imposing and domineering, knelt on the ground.

On a "throne" built from scrap copper and rotten iron sat a bare-chested old man with a figure-eight mustache.

The old man's eyes gleamed brightly, his face flushed with health. He was lean yet sturdy, smoking a dry pipe in his left hand while holding a chain in his right.

At the other end of that chain was a well-groomed young married woman with an alluring figure, dressed in a qipao.

She lay prone on the ground, trimming Third Master's gray toenails.

This old man was none other than the notorious Third Master of Longjin Road, leader of the Thirteen Guardians.

"Rotten-Life Ji, why is this month's turf money short again?" Third Master blew out a ring of smoke and asked with narrowed eyes.

"Third Master, the annual Crossing River Association was held not long ago. Ever Joy has been cracking down hard lately, so we haven't dared to act rashly." Brother Ji lowered his head.

"Don't drag your feet. Heaven's Will and Ever Joy are on the brink of war. Before they clash, they'll definitely clear the field. Finish raking in one last haul and get out early," Third Master said.

"Third Master, are the higher-ups really in such a hurry to leave? When the snipe and clam fight, the fisherman profits. With the strength of our Tong Heavenly King, maybe we can use this chance to swallow the stronghold whole." After speaking, Brother Ji added quietly, "We've heard that Mr. Ming suffered qi deviation while training years ago. Whether he still has his peak strength is anyone's guess."

"Mr. Ming has watched over the stronghold for thirty years. Even the Governor of Fragrant Sea has to show him some respect. Even if the rumors are true, he's not someone we can easily contend with."

"That's true... even a starved camel is bigger than a horse."

"The Children's Gang is nothing but a loose rabble, incapable of achieving anything. Third Master is old. I only want to take the brothers and earn one more sum, build up some capital, do legitimate business, and enjoy my old age in peace. Rotten-Life Ji, if next month's turf money fails to meet the target, then it'll be time for you to yield that third seat to someone more worthy." Third Master rubbed the knuckle duster in his hand.

After a moment of silence, Brother Ji said quietly, "Understood."

In a dark alley, Brother Ji led two underlings out of the sewers.

One underling said, "Brother Ji, isn't Third Master making things difficult for us?

With just this tiny patch of Longjin Road, how are we supposed to squeeze out five thousand in profit for him every month?"

The other underling said indignantly,

"Brother Ji, stop taking this crap! I remember you mentioning it—you've got a cousin hanging around Thunder God Shed, don't you? What future is there in following Third Master?"

Brother Ji narrowed his eyes, a dangerous aura surfacing around him. "Heh heh. I ended up in this state thanks to that cousin of mine. Even if I die, I'll never go looking for him!"

The underlings fell silent.

After a pause, he said, "Don't speak recklessly about Third Master behind his back. We just focus on getting things done."

Brother Ji's expression remained calm, but inwardly he cursed that old bastard for being disloyal.