A Shake-Up of Power, the Mastermind Abacus Song

The dock fell deathly silent.

Only the river lapped against the bank, while waterbirds cried mournfully in the distance.

Every carriage driver felt a chill shoot from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

Too ruthless!

Too merciless!

They had wiped them out on a whim, roots and all!

This was the Dragon King Society's handiwork!

These were the rules that the newly emerged Hongsheng Cart Company had laid down for all of Ping'an County Town!

Qin Geng stood among the crowd, his expression still as water.

He felt no sympathy for Guan Ershun or Boss Lin. Men like them deserved to die.

What shook him was the method: the crushing, thunderous force of it, the ruthlessness that left no quarter.

He had thought the Ping'an Cart Company's roots ran deep, and Guan Ershun was an old hand. Surely they could hold out against the Hongsheng Cart Company for a while. In the end, the two would stand side by side, giving drivers like them a chance to profit.

But he had never imagined that Qi Hongsheng, the man rumored to "live off someone else," would strike so viciously, so swiftly, so cruelly!

A local tyrant of Guan Ershun's standing had been dumped in the river just like that, without even a chance to save face.

With that move, they had done more than destroy the Ping'an Cart Company. They had cowed every carriage driver.

Once the five men had been dealt with, the leader clapped his hands.

"Master Qi sends word!"

"From today on, the Ping'an Cart Company is no more! In Ping'an County Town, there is only one cart company: the Hongsheng Cart Company!"

"All carriage drivers are to register at the Hongsheng Cart Company on Linyuan Street. Anyone who takes fares without registering will end up like those bastards just now!"

The man pointed at the river, where bubbles still rose, his voice chilling.

The carriage drivers looked at one another, silent as cicadas in winter, hardly daring to breathe.

Xu Chun and Uncle Jin had gone pale too. They instinctively looked toward Qin Geng.

Qin Geng was the one they relied on now.

Qin Geng drew a deep breath and suppressed the shock in his heart.

The winds had changed.

Qi Hongsheng had just made a show of force. His arrogance was at its height, and so was his urge to kill. Whoever dared stick his neck out now would be the next stone dropped into the river.

"We won't be taking any fares today."

"Come on, let's register. A living's a living, no matter who we work for."

Qin Geng spoke.

"True enough."

Xu Chun nodded and followed Qin Geng. The others straggled after them.

When the other drivers' leaders from the north, west, and east of town saw Qin Geng leave, they followed at once.

Linyuan Street, Hongsheng Cart Company.

The old black signboard with its gold-painted words, "Ping'an Cart Company," had long since been torn down and tossed into a roadside ditch, where it had been trampled to pieces.

The newly hung "Hongsheng Cart Company" sign still had red silk draped over its corners, giving it the festive air of sudden wealth. But to the veteran drivers, it reeked of blood.

Qin Geng led the men from Xu Jin's Shanty and Ma Village Shack into the bustling crowd.

Plenty had come today, all poor wretches who had worked under the Ping'an Cart Company.

They stood hunched against the cold wind, hands tucked into their sleeves, their expressions mixed.

Some wore worried frowns, afraid the new bosses would skin them even harder;

others eyed the crowd slyly, wondering whether the chaos might land them a profitable patch.

Inside the company hall, several square tables had been pushed together across the middle of the room.

Behind them sat an accountant in a long gown. He gripped a wolf-hair brush, its tip heavy with ink, and wrote rapidly on yellow straw paper.

Beside him stood several laborers in short tunics with weapons tucked into their belts. They were Dragon King Society enforcers, all fierce brows and hard stares as they kept order.

Another man sat beside the accountant.

He was around forty, dressed in a long gray silk robe, with round gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. In one hand, he rolled a pair of glossy lion-head walnuts.

He was thin, almost shriveled, but his eyes gleamed with frightening sharpness. When his gaze swept over the crowd, it was like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, sending chills down people's spines.

Qin Geng did not know him, but Ma Laifu muttered behind him, keeping his voice low: "That's the Dragon King Society's mastermind. People call him 'Abacus Song.' They say he keeps a ledger in his head and can calculate a man to death without paying for it. Half the credit for Jiang Hailong holding on to the Dragon Head's seat belongs to him."

Abacus Song...

Qin Geng repeated the name silently and took another look at him.

Master Zhu Xin had said that anyone who made a name for himself in Tianjin was no ordinary man.

Abacus Song was undoubtedly a meticulous schemer.

The line crept forward like a snail.

The drivers who had just finished registering wore all sorts of expressions.

A burly man clutched his new cart plate and cursed with a miserable face. "Fucking rotten luck! I used to work the rich stretch around Dongzhimen. Now they've sent me to the paupers' graveyard up north. There are more ghosts than people out there. What the hell am I supposed to earn?"

Beside him, a scrawny driver beamed as he tucked his plate into his coat, chuckling to himself. "The wheel of fortune turns, and this year it's my turn. With the Bosses gone and the territories shuffled, I got the street by the theater. Tips are fat there!"

The crowd erupted, conversation buzzing on every side.

"Looks like they're reshuffling all the territories."

Xu Chun frowned and lowered his voice. "The Bosses went into the river, so the rules beneath them have to be made anew. Who gets meat and who gets soup is up to the Hongsheng Cart Company now. Abacus Song is carving up the pie again."

"What the hell's the point of carving it up?"

Ma Laifu snorted and pulled a somewhat flattened pack of Fake Camel cigarettes from his coat. His fingers were rough, but he expertly flicked one out and put it between his lips.

He struck a match, lit the cigarette, drew deeply, then slowly blew out a smoke ring.

The pungent smell of tobacco spread at once.

"They can divide the territories as finely as they like. In the end, won't fists still decide?"

Ma Laifu narrowed his eyes. "Give a good patch to a weakling, and someone will take it from him within three days. Give a bad patch to a hard man, and he'll beat some profit out of it. Drivers settling things with their fists—that's a rule our forebears left us. You can't change it."

As he spoke, he offered the pack to Xu Chun and Jin He. Each took a cigarette.

Finally, he held it out to Qin Geng.

"Xiao Wu, want one? These foreign smokes pack a punch. They'll perk you up."

Qin Geng shook his head and pushed the pack away. "Uncle Fu, I practice martial arts. Those things damage the lungs."

Ma Laifu did not press him. He chuckled and put the pack away. "Fair enough. You're headed for great things, unlike us poor bastards. If smoking kills us, so be it."

Qin Geng said nothing.

He had always kept his distance from foreign products like these.

Foreigners were up to no good these days. Opium ruined people openly, but who knew what they put in these cigarettes?

If he became addicted, the sinews, bones, and flesh he had worked so hard to train would probably be ruined.

The line grew shorter, bit by bit.

At last, it was Qin Geng's turn.

He stepped forward and stood before the large table.

Without looking up, the accountant asked mechanically, "Name? Which Boss did you work under? Which shack?"

"Qin Geng."

Qin Geng's voice was steady, neither servile nor arrogant. "I worked under Boss Lin in the south of town. I live at Xu Jin's Shanty."

The accountant raised his brush to write, but just as the tip touched the paper, his hand stopped.

Beside him, Abacus Song had been resting with his eyes closed, rolling his walnuts. Now they stopped with a click.

He slowly opened his eyes and fixed them on Qin Geng's face.

"Hold on."

Abacus Song spoke in a rather thin, high voice with a soft, unsettling edge. "Are you the Brother Qin Wu who killed Chen Sanpi with one punch at the docks?"