Divine Stride Awakened, a Chance Encounter with the God of Wealth

The sun above the Nine Harmony Restaurant crept from the eastern eaves toward the top of the sky.

Waiting was a carriage driver's essential lesson.

Qin Geng leaned against the wall, eyes narrowed, resting his strength and conserving his energy.

Time slipped away in the silent wait.

Creak—

A rickshaw was pulled away. Old Liu from Ma Village Shack had picked up a fare to a theater in the west of town.

A while later—

"Let's go!"

A stout manager in a mandarin jacket came out of the restaurant and called for Wang Er from Xu Jin's Shanty. He wanted to go to the silk shop up north. Wang Er answered and briskly pulled his rickshaw away.

One by one, the drivers left, and the open space outside the entrance gradually cleared.

Before long, only two or three scattered carts remained at the stand.

In the end, besides Qin Geng's conspicuous flatbed cart, only Li Gou's somewhat worn rickshaw was left.

"Damn it, business is really something today."

Li Gou shuffled over and dropped down beside Qin Geng. He pulled a dry baked flatbread from his coat, broke it in half, and handed him a piece. "Brother Xiao Wu, put something in your stomach."

Qin Geng stood on no ceremony. He took it and stuffed it into his mouth.

Just then, the restaurant's door curtain lifted, and a customer stepped out.

The man wore a reasonably respectable blue cloth gown and carried a leather suitcase. He looked to be setting off on a long journey.

As soon as he came out, his gaze swept back and forth between Qin Geng and Li Gou.

Li Gou's eyes lit up. He was about to stand and call out, but then seemed to remember something. He looked at Qin Geng, then at his battered flatbed cart, chuckled, and swallowed his pitch. Instead, he told the customer, "Sir, look at my brother Xiao Wu. He's sturdy and has strength to spare."

He was giving Qin Geng the job.

Warmth stirred in Qin Geng's chest, and he nodded to Li Gou.

But the customer frowned. He cast a disdainful glance at Qin Geng's flatbed cart, shook his head, and said directly to Li Gou, "I'll take you. Your rickshaw looks comfortable. Two steps on that broken wooden cart and my bones would rattle apart."

With that, he headed straight for Li Gou's rickshaw.

Li Gou's smile stiffened. He glanced awkwardly at Qin Geng and shrugged, his expression saying, What could I do?

"Right you are, sir. Sit tight!"

Li Gou answered briskly and went over to lower the shafts.

The customer climbed in. Li Gou lifted the rickshaw and, before pulling away, turned back to make a face at Qin Geng.

Qin Geng smiled and took no offense.

The man had only spoken the truth. His flatbed cart really was not suited to carrying passengers.

The only reason anyone rode it was the low fare.

With Li Gou gone, the vast space outside the Nine Harmony Restaurant held only Qin Geng and his lonely flatbed cart, casting a forlorn shadow.

He waited nearly another hour. Thinking the wait had probably been for nothing, Qin Geng was about to cruise elsewhere for fares.

Then another man came out of the restaurant.

The moment the man appeared, Qin Geng narrowed his eyes.

He wore a somewhat worn black gown and a pair of small, round glasses in the Western style. The lenses were pitch-black, hiding his eyes. He also held a string of gleaming prayer beads. He looked like a fortune-teller who wandered the streets.

The man reached the entrance and looked around. Seeing only Qin Geng's battered cart in the empty space, he frowned almost imperceptibly, as though deciding whether to wait longer or simply walk back.

Qin Geng knew he could not wait any longer.

He rose, brushed the dirt from his backside, and approached with an honest smile. "Need a ride, sir?"

The man said nothing. He merely studied the flatbed cart through his dark glasses.

"The cart's a bit battered,"

Qin Geng admitted without embarrassment, patting its sturdy wooden shaft. "But these hands are steady. Set a bowl of water on the cart, and I guarantee not a drop will spill before we arrive."

The man seemed amused. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "How many coppers to Osmanthus Fragrance Studio in South City?"

Osmanthus Fragrance Studio was a well-known Rouge Shop in Ping'an County Town.

Qin Geng quickly reckoned the distance. It was no short trip.

He held up eight fingers and answered earnestly, "Eight coppers."

It was neither too much nor too little, an honest fare.

Eight coppers meant eight copper coins.

Here in Tianjin, three kinds of money were commonly used.

The most valuable was the gleaming silver dollar, also called a dayang. Officially, one silver dollar could be exchanged for a thousand copper coins, or a thousand coppers.

But the exchange rate changed every day. When silver was dear, a dollar could fetch eleven or twelve hundred; when its value fell, it might fetch only around nine hundred.

As a child, Qin Geng's greatest dream had been to save a clinking pile of copper coins, take them to a money shop, and exchange them for one heavy, shining silver dollar he could rub in his palm.

Next came the small silver pieces, called xiao jiao or little silver ingots. Ten of them made one silver dollar.

Those who could afford to spend such money were mostly the sons and daughters of wealthy families. They used it for tips and snacks, with a certain air of refinement.

At the bottom, of course, were the copper coins clutched in the hands of common people like them.

Working as a driver for Xu Jin's Shanty, Qin Geng ran from dawn to dusk whenever wind and rain did not stop him. Even with quick hands and feet and the best of luck, he could earn eighty-odd coppers at most in a day.

And the company had first claim on those eighty coppers.

It took half as its cut, a rule as unshakable as thunder.

The cost of renting the cart came out of what remained.

As for the battered flatbed cart Qin Geng now used, Boss Lin had granted him the "favor" of letting Uncle Xu advance three months' rent, so he did not have to worry about it for the moment.

Even so, after the company's cut, he had only around forty coppers left each day.

Qin Geng ate and slept at Uncle Xu's shack, so he paid nothing for a room.

Drivers with nowhere to stay had to spend another five to ten coppers at night for a place on the communal sleeping platform at the Chicken Feather Inn in South City. Dozens of men squeezed into one room, and the smell could knock a man off his feet.

He was hard on himself, too. He ate only twice a day.

Before heading out each morning, he spent three coppers on three baked flatbreads that filled the belly best. With the free big bowls of tea from the young attendant at the Nine Harmony Restaurant, they kept him going until afternoon.

When he finished work at night, he ate another three flatbreads.

His daily food cost was six coppers.

Only on the first and fifteenth of each lunar month, his days for a little feast, did he indulge himself. He spent five coppers on a hot slab of tofu from the street corner and ate it dipped in soy sauce.

If he had a little extra money at the end of the month, he went to the Stewed Delight stall for a bowl of poor man's stew, broth and all. It counted as meat. Eating until sweat covered his brow was the greatest pleasure he could imagine.

By that reckoning, he could save nearly one silver dollar a month.

That was now, of course. Three years ago, when he first started pulling a cart, he could not earn even thirty coppers a day. He had worked himself half to death for three years before his stamina improved and he gradually saved enough for that new rickshaw—and even then, it had taken another five silver dollars borrowed from his aunt.

Then one night had sent him right back to being a beggar.

Qin Geng shook his head, driving the jumble of thoughts away. Now was not the time for them.

"Let's go."

The customer in dark glasses nodded. "Keep it steady."

"Right you are! Please, have a seat."

Qin Geng's spirits lifted. He hurried forward and deftly settled the flatbed cart level.

The customer sat down, his back ramrod straight.

Qin Geng took a deep breath and put his arms to work, lifting the heavy cart smoothly.

Creak—

The wheels began to turn.

Pulling an empty cart was called cruising for fares; only with a passenger aboard was it a proper run.

Qin Geng could clearly sense that, on a proper run, the experience bar after [Carriage Driver] on the glowing panel rose a little faster than when he cruised back with an empty cart.

[Experience: (15/40)]

[Experience: (16/40)]

Delighted, he made his steps even steadier.

The flatbed cart rolled into the streets, and the bustling life of Ping'an County Town in Tianjin rushed to meet him.

Shops of every sort lined the road.

At a smithy, iron rang with a clang-clang. Sparks flew as a bare-chested blacksmith swung his great hammer, pounding the iron beneath it red-hot.

Steam billowed from a stall selling baked buns. Fresh from the oven, their scent made passing children drool.

Behind the pawnshop's high counter sat a cold-faced appraiser with a small brass scale, finding fault with everything the poor brought in to pawn.

People came and went along the street: peddlers carrying their loads through the lanes and shaking pellet drums;

idle bannermen in long gowns, birdcages in hand, strolling with measured steps;

and children in split-crotch pants, their braids sticking straight up, chasing and tussling in the alleys amid bursts of bright laughter.

Qin Geng pulled the cart through the crowd. His strides were short but quick, and remarkably steady.

When he came to uneven paving stones, he tested them ahead of time with his toe and deftly adjusted the angle of the shafts, letting the wheels roll over smoothly.

The customer aboard barely felt a jolt.

That was the skill Qin Geng had honed over three years as a driver.

After the cart had traveled for about fifteen minutes, the customer, silent until then, suddenly spoke.

"Not bad. Steady."

There was a trace of approval in his voice.

"You flatter me, sir. It's just how I make a living."

Qin Geng answered modestly.

Soon, the sign for Osmanthus Fragrance Studio, with its red lanterns, appeared at a corner in South City.

Qin Geng brought the cart to a smooth stop.

The man got off and made the same habitual motion, brushing the hem of his gown with his hand to flick away dust.

He took eight copper coins from inside his gown and handed them to Qin Geng.

"Here."

"Thank you, sir."

Qin Geng took the money and closed his hand around it. The coins still held the man's warmth.

For the rest of the day, Qin Geng was like a wound-up spinning top, running tirelessly through the streets and alleys of Ping'an County Town.

The jobs were scattered and paid little, but there were plenty of them.

He hauled goods from South City to the North Gate, then carried a passenger from the western outskirts to the eastern market.

He ate both lunch and dinner on the cart.

Two baked flatbreads and a big bowl of tea made a meal.

Sweat soaked the jacket against his skin, then the wind dried it, leaving a white crust of salt.

His legs felt filled with lead, every step unbearably heavy.

But Qin Geng's heart burned hot.

For he could clearly see the experience value for [Carriage Driver] climbing bit by bit on the glowing panel visible only to him.

(20/40)... (23/40)... (26/40)...

Every completed trip was a small leap forward.

When night fell and Qin Geng dragged his exhausted body back to the shack, his experience had settled at [26/40].

It had risen a full ten points in one day.

At this rate, one more day—two at most—and he would reach level five!

That night, Qin Geng lay on the hard wooden bed and gazed through a hole in the roof at the cool moon above.

He opened his palm. Inside lay the day's earnings: a pile of copper coins of different sizes and varying wear.

Qin Geng counted them carefully. There were seventy-six coppers in all.

He had spent six on food and, by the rules, handed thirty-eight over to the company.

That left thirty-two coppers in his own hands.

He still had to deduct the cart rent from those thirty-two.

But Uncle Xu had already advanced three months' rent for him, so that debt could wait for now.

If I save thirty-two coppers a day, that's nine hundred and sixty in a month. Almost enough for a silver dollar.

Qin Geng calculated silently.

First I'll pay back the cart rent Uncle Xu advanced. Then, if I scrimp and save and keep running for half a year, I should be able to repay the five silver dollars I owe Auntie.

At the thought, Qin Geng felt hopeful about the days ahead again.

The illusory glowing panel of the [Book of a Hundred Trades] appeared before his eyes at just the right moment.

Looking at the words on it, Qin Geng could not help breaking into a grin. Worn out from head to toe, he fell into a deep sleep.

He slept soundly.

In his dream, he was no longer a poor young man pulling a battered flatbed cart.

He wore a jet-black silk training outfit and stood in the largest martial arts arena in Tianjin.

Below the platform stretched a dark sea of people.

Across from him stood several golden-haired, blue-eyed Western strongmen.

At the sound of a gong, he blurred into motion. Like a fierce tiger descending the mountain, he struck the Westerners until tendons snapped and bones broke, leaving them sprawled on the ground, unable to rise.

All Tianjin was shaken. Whenever people of the underworld saw him, they bowed respectfully and addressed him as "Fifth Master!"

One word from him, Fifth Master Qin, set the rules for Tianjin.

The days passed one after another.

Qin Geng rose before the roosters and slept later than the dogs. Like a tireless old ox, he pulled his battered flatbed cart diligently through the streets and alleys of Ping'an County.

He said little, but he did his work beautifully.

He pulled the cart quickly and smoothly, charged a fair fare, and never took a longer route.

The experience points in the Book of a Hundred Trades in his mind finally reached [39/40] one afternoon a few days later. Only one point remained before the next level.

That day, Qin Geng was waiting for a fare outside Nine Harmony Restaurant as usual.

Li Gou sidled up to him and lowered his voice. "Brother Xiao Wu, did you hear? Lai Tou from Yi He Shantytown caused trouble again a couple of days ago. He got into a fight with men from the Grain Transport Gang over a girl at the House of Exquisite Red and cracked one of their managers over the head. I heard the gang's put out word that they'll give him three cuts and six holes."

Qin Geng's interest stirred, but his face betrayed nothing. "He has Boss Lin backing him. The Grain Transport Gang will have to think twice."

"Not necessarily."

Li Gou spoke with relish at Lai Tou's misfortune. "Boss Lin runs the carriage yard, but he has no say over the waters of the Tianjin River. Those Grain Transport Gang men live with their tongues on the edge of a blade."

As the two chatted, a familiar figure emerged from the restaurant.

It was the fortune-teller from a few days earlier, dressed in a long black robe and little round black spectacles.

This time, plenty of carts waited outside Nine Harmony Restaurant, and the lead cart was still there.

By the rules, the first fare had to go to the lead cart.

But the fortune-teller did not even glance at it. His gaze swept over the crowd, settled squarely on Qin Geng, and he raised a hand to point.

"You. Come here."

The other drivers froze for a moment, then turned envious eyes on Qin Geng.

When a customer asked for a driver by name, it meant the driver had done a good job last time and won the customer's favor.

It was something to be proud of.

The man at the front of the line was in his forties. Far from getting angry, he grinned at Qin Geng and gave him a thumbs-up.

Delighted, Qin Geng hurried to answer, "Right away, sir. Just a moment."

He pulled his handcart over at a trot.

The customer climbed aboard and gave the same instruction as before. "The usual place. Keep it steady."

"Just leave it to me!"

Qin Geng set off, his brisk steps carrying the cart into the flow of people.

Just as the cart rounded a corner and its wheels bumped lightly over the flagstones, a strange sound rang out in Qin Geng's mind.

It was as though an ancient bronze chime had been struck, grand and solemn.

Then the glowing Book of a Hundred Trades panel before his eyes shone with a soft light.

The experience bar beside [Profession: Carriage Driver (Level Four)] filled in an instant: [40/40]!

The words began to change.

[Carriage Driver (Level Five)]

[Experience: (0/50)]

[Profession level increased. Please choose your core talent.]

[Divine Stride (Level One)]: Your speed increases and can increase further as the talent levels up.

[Endless Breath (Level One)]: Your stamina increases and can increase further as the talent levels up.

It's here!

Qin Geng's heart pounded wildly, and excitement he could barely describe surged through him.

He hardly hesitated.

Stamina mattered, of course, but speed was what let him seize fares, make good time, and even run for his life!

He could choose [Endless Breath] when he reached level ten.

In his mind, he said, I choose [Divine Stride]!

The moment the thought formed, a strange current of heat surged up from his tailbone and swept through every limb.

It was as though a new, weightless strength had been poured into Qin Geng's legs.

The ground beneath his feet seemed soft and springy.

Every step felt effortless, with strength to spare.

He quickened his pace without thinking. Like an arrow loosed from the string, he shot forward with the cart.

The sudden burst of speed startled the passenger, who grabbed the edge of the cart.

Strangely, though the cart was moving nearly twice as fast, it remained as steady as Mount Tai, without the slightest unnecessary jolt.

Qin Geng felt as though he were treading on two invisible balls of fire, their heat burning against the soles of his feet.

He was no longer moving on muscle power alone. There was something subtler to it, as if every step borrowed a push from the earth.

Qin Geng threaded through the narrow lanes, dodging left and right. His footwork had a nimbleness and speed he had never known before.

Man and cart passed through streets and alleys, steady all the way.

"Oh?"

The passenger in the little round black spectacles gave a soft sound of surprise. "I couldn't tell before. You've got fire wheels under your feet."

"Fire wheels?"

Still absorbed in the new sensation, Qin Geng echoed the words without thinking.

"Hm?"

Now it was the passenger's turn to be surprised. An odd note entered his voice. "You brought out those fire wheels yourself, and you don't know?"

After a pause, the passenger seemed to speak to himself. "Opened his own way to it. He has talent."

Qin Geng was lost in a fog. What did he know about fire wheels?

Assuming the man was simply praising his speed, he smiled. "You flatter me, sir. I've been pulling carts for three years. I know the trade. If you find the ride steady, I hope you'll use my cart again. In another year or so, I should have saved enough to buy a proper rickshaw."

The passenger said nothing more and fell silent.

Before long, the sign for Osmanthus Fragrance Studio came into view again.

Qin Geng brought the cart to a smooth stop. This time, he was not even breathing hard.

The passenger got off and made that same distinctive gesture, brushing nonexistent dust from the hem of his robe.

He turned back, his pitch-black lenses facing Qin Geng, and a smile suddenly touched his lips.

"Good. On the third day of next month, at a quarter past five in the morning, wait for me at Heaven-Reaching Gate, at the foot of Bell Mountain outside town. Bring me back here afterward."

He paused and held up five fingers.

"Five silver dollars."

Qin Geng froze. Even his hand, raised to scratch his ear, stopped in midair. After a long day, perhaps his ears had gone bad and he had misheard.

Five... silver dollars?

That was not fifty copper coins, or even five hundred. It was five thousand!

Even if he went without food or drink for a month and ran himself ragged, he could save only a little under one silver dollar.

And this single fare would pay him five?

What kind of sum was that?

It was enough to pay off his aunt's debt!

Qin Geng stared at the man in disbelief.

Heaven-Reaching Gate at the foot of Bell Mountain was a good sixty or seventy li from Ping'an County Town.

That distance was nothing to him. Added together, the routes Qin Geng ran in a day covered at least that much.

Especially now. His legs felt impossibly fast, and with [Divine Stride], he could make the round trip in little time if he ran for all he was worth.

A huge meat pie had fallen from the sky, and it was stuffed with nothing but meat!

The passenger added one more thing.

"But you must be fast. Run like your life depends on it. Understand?"

"Yes, sir! Just leave it to me!"

Coming back to himself, Qin Geng broke into a broad smile and thumped his chest in assurance.

"One more thing."

A warning edged the passenger's voice. "Whatever you see or hear on the road, don't go talking about it."

"I know the rules, sir."

Qin Geng's smile did not waver. "My lips are zipped, and anything I hear blows right past. You can rest easy."