Tianjin's Eight Bowls and the Secret of the Hundred Trades

Nine Harmony Restaurant, a private room on the third floor.

The room had no famous paintings or calligraphy to dress it up, but it was spacious and bright.

A large round rosewood table stood in the center, covered with a red tablecloth faded white from washing.

The dishes came streaming in, one after another.

Tianjin's traditional Eight Great Bowls weren't all available today, but Nine Harmony Restaurant's master chef had put real skill into the meal.

These were hearty dishes.

First came four cold dishes: sliced braised pork knuckle, dressed jellyfish, five-spice smoked fish, and mustard cabbage.

Then came four hot dishes: stir-fried pork kidneys, sweet-and-sour pork, braised carp, and, as the grand finale, two braised pork knuckles the size of washbasins, glossy with oil and quivering enough to make mouths water.

Each pork knuckle was whole, its skin a gleaming red. A light poke with chopsticks broke through to the tender fat and lean meat beneath. It glistened with oil, and its aroma went straight up the nose.

The braised carp was smothered in a rich, dark sauce that made mouths water at a glance.

There were no fancy presentations, just honest slabs of meat, rich and plentiful.

To these carriage drivers, who rarely had a drop of fat in their bellies and earned their living by their strength, a table full of meat was dearer than any mountain delicacy or seafood treasure.

There were also great basins of white-flour steamed buns, each crowned with a jujube-flower pattern and steaming hot.

Under the table sat two jars of Burning Knife with their clay seals broken. The scent of liquor rose straight to everyone's noses.

"Uncles, brothers."

Qin Geng rose, holding a coarse porcelain bowl filled to the brim with liquor.

The noisy table fell silent at once.

Everyone set down their chopsticks and looked at the man who had now made a name for himself in South City: "Brother Xiao Wu."

Qin Geng swept his gaze over them. Xu Chun, Uncle Jin, Ma Laifu, Li Gou... Every familiar face was flushed with drink, every pair of eyes shining with excitement.

"We all came from hardship, so I won't dress this up in fancy words."

Qin Geng spoke steadily, without hurry. "Tonight's drinks are to celebrate, and to make one thing clear to everyone."

"We fought for Xun River Wharf with our lives."

"But that turf doesn't belong to me alone. It belongs to Xu Jin's Shanty and Ma Village Shack. It belongs to every man sitting here."

"From now on, we huddle together for warmth."

"If there's money, we earn it together; if there's meat, we eat it together."

"We're brothers stirring the same pot, so our hearts have to beat as one. If outsiders dare provoke us or come smash our rice bowl..."

Qin Geng paused and raised his bowl high.

"I don't care who they are or who's behind them."

"I, Qin Geng, won't stand for it! And neither will my fists!"

"This first bowl is to all of you!"

With that, Qin Geng tipped back his head and drained the large bowl of strong liquor in great gulps.

Burning Knife was fiercely strong, going down like a mouthful of hot coals. But Qin Geng's expression did not change; the gleam in his eyes only grew brighter.

"Good!"

"Brother Wu knows how to treat people!"

"Bottoms up!"

His words set everyone's blood boiling. They raised their bowls and, whether they could hold their liquor or not, drained them in one go.

"Eat! Eat! Don't hold back. There's plenty!"

Qin Geng sat down and urged everyone to pick up their chopsticks.

Soon the room filled with clinking bowls and cups, chopsticks striking crockery, and the smacking sounds of men chewing great mouthfuls.

Li Gou sat beside Ma Laifu with half a bun stuffed in his mouth and a chicken leg in his hand, grease shining on his lips.

Yet his eyes kept straying toward Qin Geng.

Watching Qin Geng sit among the others, flushed and surrounded like the moon by stars, Li Gou felt a tangle of emotions.

Envy. He truly envied him.

Two months ago, he and Qin Geng had been the same, wearing themselves out like dead dogs for a few copper coins a day and swallowing their anger when others bullied them.

But now?

Qin Geng sat in the seat of honor, carrying himself like a leader. Even the doorman had to bow and call him "Brother Wu."

And Li Gou? He could share in the meat and broth, but he was still one of those sheltered behind Qin Geng.

Li Gou looked down at his own thin arms, then at Qin Geng's imposing frame, its power obvious even beneath his clothes.

He wanted to learn martial arts too.

He wanted to be like Qin Geng someday: kill a bully like Chen Sanpi with one punch, protect the uncles, then stand tall and earn people's respect.

But...

Li Gou felt the few pitiful copper coins in his pocket.

He had saved them for ages to buy medicine for his mother.

I wasn't born for that.

Li Gou sighed inwardly.

He had no aunt who was a concubine in the Su Family and could give him silver dollars for medicine. He had none of Qin Geng's monstrous strength, enough to make more than a dozen runs a day without tiring, and certainly no so-called talent.

Just pulling his rickshaw to earn enough to eat left him as worn out as a dead dog. He fell asleep the moment he got back to the shanty. Where would he find the strength to practice boxing?

"Come on, Gouzi. What are you staring off for? Have a drink with your Uncle Ma!"

Ma Laifu touched his liquor bowl to Li Gou's arm.

"Right, let's drink!"

Li Gou came back to himself and hurriedly raised his bowl. The liquor and the smell of meat soon washed away those tangled feelings.

Around the table, talk gradually turned from the fight to how they would make a living from now on.

"Xiao Wu."

Uncle Xu set down his bowl, wiped the grease from his mouth, and lowered his voice. "What happened today felt good, but there's a danger we can't ignore."

"Tell me."

Qin Geng leaned in to listen.

"Boss Lin."

Uncle Xu frowned, his face full of worry. "That old bastard's a notorious smiling tiger. He'd betray anyone for a little profit."

"Taking Xun River Wharf cut off Yi He Shantytown's income, and we took a slice of South City's big pie."

"Boss Lin may be the chief Boss of South City, but he's got over twenty shantytowns under him. Ours are only two of them."

"If the people behind Yi He Shantytown slip Boss Lin some money, or if Boss Lin decides he wants a bigger tribute, all he has to do is twist his mouth, make things difficult for us, or flat-out order us off the wharf. Then our arms won't be able to twist that thigh."

Uncle Jin nodded along. "That's right. The official on the spot matters more than the magistrate far away. Boss Lin may not be much good, but he holds that position and speaks for the Dragon Head. If we don't send him a tribute, I'm afraid we won't last long."

"We were thinking everyone could work a little harder this month and make a few extra runs."

"By the middle of next month, we can pool some money, and you can take him something on our behalf."

"Keep him well fed, and every day he stays in that post is another day we can live in peace."

Qin Geng rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Uncle Xu and Uncle Jin's advice came from hard-earned experience.

In this world, hard fists alone could not solve every problem.

Personal ties and traded favors were part of the martial world too.

A man like Boss Lin couldn't build anything, but he could ruin plenty.

If Qin Geng confronted him head-on, Boss Lin could cite some excuse, such as "tidying up the rickshaws" or "reissuing vehicle licenses." With the Dragon Head's name behind it, he could stop them dead. Were they supposed to defy the Dragon Head too?

"Mm. Uncle Xu, Uncle Jin, you're right."

Qin Geng nodded, a sharp gleam passing through his eyes. "We'll do it your way. Peace is a good thing. We've only just taken the wharf; we need time to recover and put down firm roots."

"Good, then it's settled!"

Uncle Jin was pleased that Qin Geng had listened.

Qin Geng raised his bowl and took a sip, but he had plans of his own.

Paying tribute to Boss Lin was only a temporary measure.

Once his [Martial Artist] profession rose in level and he stepped into Bright Force, or even higher...

Would the Boss of South City still have to be named Lin then?

Boss Lin was greedy and incompetent.

In Tianjin, where the weak were meat for the strong, being incompetent while occupying a lucrative post was a sin in itself.

But Qin Geng kept that to himself.

A meal had to be eaten one bite at a time, a road walked one step at a time.

What mattered most right now was making money, buying medicine, and leveling up.

They drank until late into the night.

The main hall of Nine Harmony Restaurant had long since emptied, and the staff had begun cleaning up.

Only then did Qin Geng settle the bill and lead the drunken men home.

The doorman and waiters saw them all the way to the entrance, smiling broadly. "Take care, Brother Wu! Come again!"

The night breeze was cool against their skin and sobered them a little.

They returned to Xu Jin's Shanty.

Xu Chun, Uncle Jin, and the others really had drunk too much. After the fright and fighting earlier that day, they began snoring the moment their heads touched their pillows, loud enough to shake the straw on the shanty roof.

Qin Geng had drunk plenty too, but his constitution was unlike an ordinary person's, and something weighed on his mind. He was not sleepy.

He slipped quietly out of the shanty and went to the familiar threshing ground.

Moonlight fell like water across the open ground.

Qin Geng took off his long robe, baring the lean muscles of his upper body.

"Opening stance!"

He took up the Three-Body Stance and drew a deep breath.

As he worked through the breathing method, the blood and vital energy in his body began to surge.

The Burning Knife he had drunk turned into a rolling current of heat in his stomach. It was no longer liquor that muddled his senses, but pure energy.

In—out—

Qin Geng's breathing grew heavier. It seemed as though every pore in his body was breathing out the liquor.

Before long, a thin white mist rose from him: alcohol and sweat steaming off his skin.

His drunkenness faded swiftly with the mist, replaced by a clear head and a light, open feeling throughout his body.

The human body was a furnace, refining essence into energy!

When he finished the full set of standing exercises, Qin Geng felt comfortable all over and brimming with energy.

With a thought, the glowing screen of the [Book of a Hundred Trades] appeared before him.

Qin Geng looked closely, and his eyebrows rose.

[Profession: Martial Artist (Level Five)]

[Experience: 10/50]

"Huh?"

Qin Geng was surprised.

Last night it had still been at seven points, gained by forcing them up with a dose of Bone-Strengthening Powder that morning.

Now it had risen to ten?

Where had those extra three points come from?

He carefully thought back over the day's events.

He had taken no medicine and done no prolonged training.

The only thing out of the ordinary was the fight at the wharf that afternoon.

That punch!

"Killing Chen Sanpi took just one punch, and it gave me three experience points?!"

Understanding flashed through Qin Geng's eyes.

Of course.

A Martial Artist trains in the art of killing and cultivates the means to protect his path.

The heart of this profession isn't just practice. It's fighting!

Only in a battle between life and death can I truly bring all my skills together, and only then will experience shoot up.

That one punch earned as much experience as half a day's hard training, even with Bone-Strengthening Powder!

The discovery set Qin Geng's mind racing.

If real combat earned experience, did that mean there were other ways to level up besides training relentlessly?

Of the eight trades of the martial world, there was the martial performers' trade.

Taking posts as House Guards, escorting goods, teaching disciples, performing martial arts in the street.

All of those trades were, at heart, the work of a Martial Artist.

If I escorted goods and fought bandits on the road, my experience would surely rise fast.

If I performed martial arts before a crowd and accepted challenges, would that earn experience too?

Even opening a school and teaching disciples might count for something.

The more Qin Geng thought about it, the more sense it made.

Since the [Book of a Hundred Trades] was named for a hundred trades, it had to encompass all kinds of work. It would not confine him to being a martial brute who did nothing but train.

But that's for later.

Qin Geng shook his head and set those thoughts aside for now.

I'm not strong enough yet, and my name isn't well known enough.

"No one would hire me to escort a shipment, and no one would come to train if I opened a school."

"I still need to train hard, build a solid foundation, and raise my level first."

"Once I reach Bright Force, the world will be mine to roam!"

With that settled, Qin Geng put the thought aside and immersed himself in training again.

The moon set, and the stars faded.

Before he knew it, four hours had passed.

Qin Geng finished his practice and stood up. He glanced at the panel: his experience had risen by another 3 points.

"If I don't fight, Bone-Strengthening Powder and hard training alone can earn me about 10 points a day."

"At this rate, I'll hit level ten in a month at most!"

"Then I'll unlock [Sickly Tiger Bones] and enter Bright Force. I'll truly shed my old skin and be reborn!"

Dreaming of the future, Qin Geng returned to his lean-to, lay down on the stiff straw mat, and fell fast asleep.

In his dream...

He was no longer a poor cart puller.

He wore a silk robe and stood with his hands behind his back.

In every street and alley of Tianjin, high officials and wandering heroes alike greeted him with a respectful "Fifth Master!"

In the Tianjin of his dreams, Qin Geng's word was law!