Fifteenth Day of the Twelfth Month: An Encounter with Abacus Song

"What happened, Uncle Xu?"

Qin Geng walked up to Xu Chun and asked.

Xu Chun tapped his pipe against the sole of his shoe, leaned close to Qin Geng, and lowered his voice. "Xiao Wu, it's just like we said before. That Hongsheng Cart Company is even more ruthless than Ping'an Cart Company."

"The new Boss in South City has put the word out. Starting this month, their cut goes up to sixty percent."

"Sixty percent?"

Qin Geng frowned slightly.

Ping'an Cart Company had been greedy enough to demand fifty percent.

Most cart companies took forty.

At sixty percent, they were practically driving the Carriage Drivers to their deaths. What remained would barely keep them fed.

"The thing is, they're still taking forty percent in the west and north of town."

Xu Chun said indignantly, "They're bullying us because South City has no one to stand up for it! Everyone's run out of ways to make a living. That's why we gathered here to ask you what we should do."

"Abacus Song gave you his word, so Xu Jin's Shanty and Ma Village Shack only pay twenty percent. But the others..."

Xu Chun let the words trail off, but his meaning was clear.

Boss Lin, the former Boss of South City, was dead. Now everyone was scattered like loose sand.

Qin Geng had not taken Boss Lin's place, but his standing among the men was considerable. To them, he was the pillar holding South City up.

So when trouble came, they naturally turned to him.

Qin Geng swept his gaze over the crowd.

Every pair of hopeful eyes was filled with helplessness.

A few months ago, faced with a scene like this, Qin Geng might not even have managed to speak clearly, let alone make a decision.

But things were different now.

He was a Bright Force Martial Artist, someone who had reached a higher level.

From a different height, he naturally saw things from a different angle.

Hongsheng Cart Company belonged to the Dragon King Society.

The Dragon King Society had colluded with foreigners over the "Snake Corpse." They were courting their own deaths.

Once the authorities launched a full investigation, the Dragon King Society was bound to fall.

When that happened, the cart business in Ping'an County Town would be a fat prize with no owner.

Master Zhu Xin had told him: he needed territory of his own and a group of people who would listen to him.

If he could win them over now, then when chaos came, these three hundred-odd Carriage Drivers would form Qin Geng's most dependable core.

At that thought, Qin Geng made up his mind.

But his face betrayed nothing. He showed no great indignation.

"Strictly speaking,"

Qin Geng began slowly, his voice quiet but steady, "Abacus Song personally agreed that my two shanties would pay twenty percent. What you brothers pay, whether you live or die, has nothing to do with me."

At those words, the mood instantly went cold.

The eyes of several shanty heads dimmed, and they lowered their heads.

Of course.

Qin Geng had earned his privilege through his own abilities. Why should he offend Hongsheng Cart Company for their sake?

"However,"

Qin Geng's tone shifted, and his gaze sharpened. "Sixty percent is too much. It leaves people no way to live."

"I'll talk to Abacus Song."

Qin Geng made no sweeping promises and gave no chest-thumping guarantees. He merely said, "But I can't promise it'll work."

Everyone looked up sharply, hope rekindling in their eyes.

"That's enough! Just hearing you say that is enough, Fifth Brother!"

"You're a good man, Fifth Brother! Whether it works or not, we'll remember what you've done for us!"

"Exactly. We're not asking for much. Even a ten-percent cut would put a few more pounds of cornmeal on the table at home."

The Carriage Drivers cupped their hands in thanks, and the stifling atmosphere finally eased.

Before long, the crowd dispersed.

After they were gone, Xu Chun wanted to say something. But seeing Qin Geng's bearing and remembering how much more capable he was than the rest of them now, Xu Chun figured he must have his own reasons and kept quiet.

"Xiao Wu, that Dragon King Society is no easy lot to deal with..."

Jin He was quick-tempered, and he looked worried.

"It's fine."

Qin Geng waved a hand. "I know what I'm doing. Keep the men under you in line. Don't stir up trouble for now. Just pull your carts and keep your heads down."

He could not explain.

If he said too much and word got out, jeopardizing the major case against the Dragon King Society, that would be disastrous.

That was why he had only said he would speak to Abacus Song, without promising anything else. He did not want to put the Dragon King Society on its guard.

That afternoon, Qin Geng did not go out with his cart.

He practiced standing post on the open ground in front of the shanty.

The Blood Fare he had eaten at the Ye Family home was still working through his body, its warmth lingering within him.

Qin Geng closed his eyes and regulated his breathing.

He breathed in like a dragon drawing in water and breathed out like a tiger roaring through the mountains and forests.

With the rhythm of his breathing, his sinews, bones, skin, and membranes trembled faintly, grinding that current of heat down bit by bit and drawing it deep into his marrow.

[Profession: Martial Artist (Level 10)]

[Experience: 8/100]

Watching the experience value creep upward on the panel, Qin Geng calculated.

It's a little slow, but at least it's steady.

At this rate, with the Ye Family's Blood Fare, I can gain a level in a month or so even without Dragon-Tiger Decoction.

In the days that followed, Qin Geng settled into an exceptionally regular routine.

Before dawn, he got up and went to Crouching Ox Alley to tend the fierce horse and the litter of slender hounds at the Ye Family home.

Once his work was done, he ate a hearty lunch of Blood Fare.

Around noon, he made a trip to South City to visit Master Zhu Xin, bringing along some soft, easy-to-eat food.

Master Zhu Xin grew frailer by the day, and his coughing worsened. Sometimes he could not even finish a sentence. He relied entirely on Qin Geng's care; otherwise, he would have struggled even to eat.

After noon, Qin Geng pulled his cart for a few hours to earn some copper coins, then returned to the shanty to train and sleep.

As for speaking to Abacus Song, Qin Geng had not forgotten, but he was in no hurry to go.

He had not expected to run into Abacus Song before he went looking for him.

The fifteenth day of the twelfth month.

The cold gripped the earth, and the north wind howled.

After lunch at the Ye Family home, Qin Geng tucked a few meat buns and a bowl of egg soup for Master Zhu Xin close against him and headed into the wind toward Tanlong Alley.

I've worked at the Ye Family home for twenty-five days now.

As Qin Geng walked, he looked at the Book of a Hundred Trades.

My Martial Artist profession has reached level eleven, and level twelve isn't far off.

With Zheng Tonghe's guidance, the Coiling Dragon and Clawing Strike forms of Xingyi Dragon and Tiger are etched into my bones. I've got the force down and found my way. They're no longer empty moves—they're killing strikes that can injure someone with the slightest motion.

My Carriage Driver profession has reached level thirty-nine, too. Level forty is just around the corner.

A flicker of anticipation rose in Qin Geng's heart.

What will level forty be like?

Still mulling it over, he turned into Tanlong Alley.

The moment he rounded the corner and looked up, Qin Geng froze.

The red-lacquered gate of Master Zhu Xin's home, shut tight all year round, now stood wide open.

This is bad.

Qin Geng's heart sank. He quickened his steps, moving like the wind.

As soon as he entered the courtyard, he saw a group of people standing outside the main room.

Just inside the courtyard, he spotted a wealthy woman in Western-style dress standing by the main room's door. She held a handkerchief and wore a look of disgust.

Several thugs stood behind her. One of them, a man with a fleshy, brutish face, was the newly appointed Boss of South City.

Inside the main hall were several more men.

A few burly men—clearly skilled fighters from the Dragon King Society—had Master Zhu Xin by the arms and were dragging him out.

Master Zhu Xin's feet were off the ground. His face was ashen, and he struggled in pain.

Qin Geng's eyelid twitched, and fury shot straight to the top of his head.

And in the grand armchair at the center of the hall sat a man.

It was Abacus Song.