The debt finds its debtor, Lai Tou dies

At the end of the month, in South City, Ping'an County Town, at sunset.

The setting sun gilded the rows of eaves and stretched the shadows in the alleys long.

Qin Geng crouched before an unassuming stall deep in an alley, his head nearly buried in a chipped earthenware bowl.

The bowl held steaming braised offal. Rich aromas of meat and sauce mingled, making his mouth water.

In his left hand, he held a freshly baked flatbread. He tore it into pieces and plunged them into the scalding broth, letting the pale bread soak up its flavor.

Then he picked up his chopsticks, grabbed a piece of tender stewed pig intestine, and stuffed it into his mouth with the broth-soaked bread. He chewed in great, hungry mouthfuls.

Fragrant and satisfying. The warmth seemed to wash the weariness from his entire body.

It had been a hard month.

But watching the copper coins in his hands multiply day by day set his mind at ease.

Today was the last day of the month. He had counted carefully: he had saved six hundred copper coins.

That was a little less than he had expected.

He had thought that, working himself to the bone, he could save at least eight hundred.

But ever since he unlocked the [Divine Stride] talent, his appetite had been like a flood through an opened sluice gate. There was no stopping it.

He pulled his cart faster, and his strength seemed inexhaustible. Each day, he covered thirty or forty percent more ground than before.

The uncles at the shantytown all said that when this half-grown boy ran with his handcart, he was far more than seventy percent faster than Uncle Xu Chun with a rickshaw.

But that strength had to be bought with food.

Four flatbreads used to see him through a day. Now he could eat ten and be so hungry his stomach pressed against his spine before half a day had passed.

And every few days, he had to buy a big slab of tofu to satisfy his cravings.

He used to dare indulge in this poor man's braised offal only once a month. This month, he had already eaten it twice.

It was not that he had stopped scrimping. He was truly hungry, with a hunger that rose from his very bones and could not be controlled.

Sometimes the smell of braised offal hit him like an opium smoker's craving. His legs simply refused to carry him onward.

Fortunately, it counted as meat that poor people could afford.

He had heard that the dish originated in the imperial city of Kyoto.

Before the Eight Banners entered the pass, they had revered wild boar. Later, once they settled in the imperial city, the palace consumed enormous quantities of pork.

But the imperial family and their relatives would not eat the offal. They considered it filthy.

Over time, the offal found its way to ordinary people. The poor simmered it with spices and sauces, turning it into a dish with a flavor all its own, a cut above tofu flavored with nothing but salty soy sauce.

Qin Geng swept through a great bowl of braised offal and five large flatbreads like a gale scattering clouds. Only then did the burning hunger in his belly subside.

Still wanting more, he licked his lips and called to the stallkeeper.

"Another bowl of porridge to fill the gaps."

"Coming right up!"

The stallkeeper was a lean man. He quickly ladled out a bowl of thick cornmeal porridge.

Qin Geng cradled the bowl and drank in small sips, half-listening to the conversation among several idlers at the next table.

These men were all well-known Master Xins in South City.

They did no work. All day, they sat in teahouses and eateries, drinking tea and gossiping about everything under the sun.

But they were not to be underestimated. After decades on the streets of Tianjin, they had contacts among every walk of life, from officials to merchants, and heard news from everywhere.

Whether someone's wife had taken a lover or a trading house was changing hands, they were always the first to know.

The shops on the street were happy to keep these Master Xins around.

They got a free large bowl of tea every day, at the very least. Those on good terms with a shopkeeper could even get a meal.

For the shopkeepers, it meant staying informed, so they would not be cheated without even knowing it.

One old man in a gray long gown held a cricket jar in his hand. His surname was Zhu, and he was the best-known Master Xin in the neighborhood.

Qin Geng finished his porridge, wiped his mouth, and went over with a respectful smile.

"Master Zhu Xin, could I ask you something?"

Master Zhu Xin had his eyes closed, listening to the cricket chirp inside the jar. He raised his eyelids and glanced at Qin Geng. "Ask."

"You've seen a great deal, sir. If someone wanted to learn martial arts in Ping'an County Town, where would be the best place?"

Qin Geng paused, then added, "Somewhere cheap, where he could learn real skills."

An amused smile touched Master Zhu Xin's lips. He gave his cricket jar a little shake.

"Ha! Buy me a bowl of sake and a plate of spiced broad beans, and I'll tell you all about it."

A bowl of sake cost three coins and a plate of spiced broad beans four. Seven coins altogether.

Qin Geng understood perfectly. That was the custom: if he wanted information from a Master Xin, he had to offer something in return.

Without another word, he called to the stallkeeper, "Boss, a bowl of sake and a plate of spiced broad beans for Master Zhu Xin. Put it on my tab."

The food and drink arrived quickly.

Master Zhu Xin tossed a broad bean into his mouth, took a sip of sake, and smacked his lips before speaking at his leisure.

"Xiao Wu, you've asked the right man. The waters of the martial trade run deep."

He tapped a thin finger on the table.

"Tianjin may lack plenty of things, but martial artists aren't one of them. Some run schools, some escort shipments, some serve wealthy households as House Guards, and some work as Red Poles and enforcers for the gangs. There's no shortage of people who know how to fight."

"You want to learn real skills? I'll tell you the truth: any martial artist who can still make a living around here has real skills. The question isn't them. It's you."

Master Zhu Xin narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. "And it isn't just the martial trade. Every trade places weight on a master's teachings being passed down to his apprentice. If a man takes a liking to you and wants to teach you, he might pass on even his most closely guarded skills without charging you a coin. If he doesn't want to teach you, you could offer him a thousand silver dollars and still get nothing but fancy moves and sham techniques. Without a connection or someone to introduce you, all you can rely on is your own 'sincerity' and 'fate.'"

He smiled, raised his bowl, and drained it. "Those few words were worth the price of your sake."

"Thank you for the advice, Master Zhu Xin."

Qin Geng nodded thoughtfully.

Sincerity... a connection...

He remembered Zhou Yonghe, the House Guard at Su Cloth Shop whom Li Gou had mentioned.

Zhou Yonghe had survived several gunshots and torn a foreign devil apart with his bare hands. Those were surely top-tier skills.

Besides, his aunt was with the Su Family. Did that count as a connection?

But then he shook his head.

His aunt did not have an easy life with the Su Family, and he still owed her five silver dollars. How could he have the nerve to ask her for an introduction?

He had to pay her back first.

Having settled that, he stood and clasped his hands toward Master Zhu Xin.

"Enjoy yourself, then. I'm off to find a fare."

Qin Geng picked up his handcart and set off at an easy pace.

He had just eaten his fill. Walking fast was a bad idea.

He strolled until his meal had settled a little, then gradually quickened his steps and began to run.

Night was falling, and pedestrians were thinning out.

He wandered the familiar streets around Xu Jin's Shanty, taking work when it came. When it did not, he stretched his legs and gained a little experience.

Over the past month, he had saved six hundred copper coins. The Book of a Hundred Trades in his mind had also reached level nine, with [Experience: (18/100)]. Level ten was not far away.

When the time came, he would have to think carefully about whether to upgrade [Divine Stride] or unlock the new [Endless Breath] talent.

What he looked forward to even more was the job at the foot of Bell Mountain on the third.

Five silver dollars. Once he had that money, he could repay his aunt. A few more months of saving after that, and he would have enough to show a martial arts school his "sincerity."

Qin Geng pulled his empty cart through a dim alley, its wheels making a monotonous creak.

It was completely dark now. It looked as though he would get no more work tonight.

Just as he was about to head home, he spotted a huddled figure beside a pile of rubbish at the corner of the alley.

The man was covered in blood, a ghastly sight in the gloom.

Startled, Qin Geng instinctively tightened his grip on the cart handles.

He meant to go around the man, but by the light spilling from a distant shop, the figure looked strangely familiar.

Gathering his courage, Qin Geng approached slowly.

"Help... help me..."

A faint voice, thick with the smell of blood, came from the man.

Qin Geng crouched and studied him in the faint light. His pupils contracted sharply.

It was Lai Tou!

Lai Tou of Yi He Shantytown—the man who had stolen his new cart and beaten him half to death!

There was no trace of Lai Tou's old arrogance now.

He was covered in blood, his face mottled with bruises. Bloody froth kept seeping from the corners of his mouth.

Qin Geng looked him over. There were no obvious knife or gunshot wounds. The blood seemed to have come from his own mouth, after someone had struck his internal organs with heavy blows.

He was badly hurt. His face was white as paper.

"Take... take me to Spring Renewal Hall..."

Lai Tou seemed barely conscious. His eyes were swollen to slits, and he had no idea who was before him. Acting on instinct, he fumbled inside his clothes, drew something out with a trembling hand, and pressed it into Qin Geng's palm. "I'll give you... a silver dollar..."

Qin Geng looked down. A heavy, gleaming silver dollar lay in his hand.

He gripped the coin, and anger flared up inside him.

The wheel of heaven really did turn!

"To hell with your mother! Take a look at who you're talking to!"

Fury surged through Qin Geng. He gave a cold laugh, stood, and kicked Lai Tou in the stomach without hesitation.

Lai Tou let out a pained groan and curled up even tighter.

Qin Geng tucked the silver dollar into his clothes, pulled his cart away, and did not look back.

He had picked up a silver dollar for nothing and vented his anger besides. The satisfaction was hard to describe.

There was not a ghost to be seen in that pitch-dark alley. No one would be the wiser.

He pulled his cart around for a while longer. When it was clear there were no fares left, he returned to the shantytown satisfied and fell straight into bed.

The second, early morning.

Qin Geng woke before dawn, before the hour of the rabbit.

He had adjusted his sleep schedule a few days early to prepare for the long job on the third.

It was autumn now, and the sun rose late. The eastern sky would not pale until halfway through the hour of the rabbit.

Once awake, he could not sit still. He took his empty cart and went out.

At a breakfast stall on the corner, he ate six sesame flatbreads in one go, washed them down with a bowl of soy milk, and felt warmth spread through his body.

Then he went straight to the stand outside Nine Harmony Restaurant and queued for a fare.

He was fast now and had strength to spare. He could always pick up jobs others thought too far away or too urgent.

By the end of the morning, he had earned another twenty-odd coins.

In the early afternoon, Qin Geng returned to Nine Harmony Restaurant for a rest, only to find something wrong with the atmosphere.

The Carriage Drivers around him, whether from Xu Jin's Shanty or Ma Village Shack, gave him strange looks, part scrutiny and part awe.

"What's going on?"

Baffled, Qin Geng nudged Li Gou beside him.

Li Gou's expression was complicated. He leaned in and lowered his voice. "Brother Xiao Wu, something big's happened. Lai Tou... is dead. They found him this morning in a little dark alley in South City, covered in blood."

He paused, studying Qin Geng's eyes carefully.

"People are saying... they're saying you beat him to death."

"What?"

Qin Geng's heart skipped a beat, but he let nothing show. Instead, he looked astonished. "Who started that?"

"The people from Yi He Shantytown were the first to spread it."

Li Gou watched Qin Geng's face closely and asked tentatively, "Brother Xiao Wu, you didn't really do it, did you?"

"Come on. How could it have been me?"

Qin Geng scoffed and waved a hand, his expression perfectly natural. "Lai Tou was a slab of muscle. You think someone my size could beat him to death?"

He deliberately paused before continuing. "Didn't we hear a few days ago that he'd crossed someone from the Grain Transport Gang at the House of Exquisite Red?"

"That's what I thought!"

Li Gou said, "It must've been the Grain Transport Gang. Their dockhands and river rats kill without blinking!"

Then he added worriedly, "But Brother Xiao Wu, you'd better be careful. Those fellows from Yi He Shantytown don't listen to reason. They might be using you as an excuse to pick a fight and vent their anger."

"Hah. Let them try."

Qin Geng shrugged, looking utterly unconcerned.

Things were different now.

If he wanted to run, ordinary people had little chance of catching him with his [Divine Stride] talent.

Without the cart, he could vanish into an alley in a flash. Even pulling it, he ran like the wind.

In Ping'an County Town, with its lanes twisting through nine bends and eighteen turns, trapping him would be harder for the Yi He Shantytown men than climbing to heaven.

Just then, a commotion rose among the Carriage Drivers at the stand.

A burly man in a smart vest strode toward them, surrounded by a crowd.

"Boss Lin!"

"Boss!"

The Carriage Drivers rose and greeted him respectfully.

The newcomer was Boss Lin, South City Carriage House's boss for this area.

But Qin Geng's gaze was fixed on the people behind Boss Lin.

Several of them were pushing a gleaming new rickshaw.

Brass handles, a jet-black lacquered body, sturdy rubber tires...

Qin Geng's breath caught. He recognized it at a glance. It was his treasure—the rickshaw he had saved for three years to buy, even borrowing money from his aunt to afford it!

"Xiao Wu."

Boss Lin stopped before the crowd, his gaze locking onto Qin Geng. To everyone's surprise, he wore a faint, warm smile.

"This is your rickshaw, isn't it?"

He pointed at the rickshaw and said loudly, "Lai Tou didn't know the rules when he took it from you. Now that he's gone, that matter is settled. Today, I'm making the call: the rickshaw goes back to you."

His words sent an uproar through the crowd.

Every gaze snapped to Qin Geng, the looks in their eyes even more complicated than before.

Li Gou stared at Qin Geng in a daze, his mouth wide enough to fit an egg.

Had the sun risen in the west?

Had Xiao Wu really beaten Lai Tou to death?

Otherwise, why would Boss Lin, who had always favored Lai Tou, follow the rules and return what Lai Tou had taken?

Where there were people, there were rivalries; where there were rivalries, there were rules. But above the rules stood personal ties and favors owed.

Among Tianjin's rickshaw pullers, fights over territory and customers—even smashing rickshaws or seizing them—were commonplace.

If you were no match for someone, you had to swallow your loss. That was the unspoken rule.

But once someone died, the nature of the matter changed.

According to the underworld's rules, the Boss had to step in and return what the dead man had taken to its rightful owner. It was a way to bring the matter to a close for the dead man's family.

That served two purposes.

First, once the victor who had killed the man got his property back, he was to leave the dead man's family and followers alone as far as possible. The score was settled.

Second, every grievance had its source, every debt its debtor. By stepping in, the Boss established who the quarrel lay between. If the dead man's family or followers sought revenge, they were to go after his killer, not drag in the innocent.

Of course, the rightful owner would usually try to wipe the other side out, and the other side would seek revenge.

Now, Boss Lin had personally returned the rickshaw to Qin Geng in front of everyone.

It was a deft move, and a vicious one.

Even if Qin Geng jumped into the Tianjin River, he couldn't wash the suspicion off himself. Yi He Shantytown would surely come after him for revenge.