Every Trade Has Its Way to Survive

In the Great Xin Dynasty, the Three Teachings and Nine Schools, every trade and every profession, had its own way to survive!

From the day they first scraped together a living to the day they sought to make a name for themselves, every trade that roamed the world knew a few killing techniques. Together, those skills were known as Great Xin Martial Arts.

The Netherworld Office trade, for instance, had plenty of uncanny methods and stranger ways to kill.

Daoists and Buddhist temples, meanwhile, had their own methods of training and killing.

But whatever the trade, it all came down to having a master. Without one, where could you learn the real skills that put food on the table?

The upper three teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—and arcane trades like Feng Shui Masters, corpse drivers, and Paper Effigy Makers offered rare chances and masters even harder to find. Most skills were passed down within families. If they weren't in your fate, you went without.

But in the Great Xin Dynasty, which fighting methods were easiest to learn?

Martial arts.

Xingyi Bagua, Baji Tantui... escorting caravans, working as House Guards or Red Poles.

They were easy to learn but hard to master, and they weren't cheap. Still, martial arts schools were everywhere, making a master easiest to find in that line of work.

Of course, "easy" was relative.

Finding a good master was no simple matter.

It was only easier than in other trades people took up to make a living.

And making a name for yourself still meant swallowing no small amount of hardship.

But first, I need a cart to haul jobs and pay Auntie back.

Then I'll save up, find a Martial Artist to study under, and learn some moves.

One skill might earn me a living, but if I want to stay alive and safe—or make something of myself—I have to know how to fight.

That was what Qin Geng thought.

Looking at the glowing panel before him, he felt he had something to hope for.

The hot porridge settled in his stomach, warmth spreading from it and driving away the lingering chill and the weakness left by his injuries.

Qin Geng held the rough clay bowl and drained the last of the rice broth. Then he let out a long breath.

His hunger and physical exhaustion had eased, but his mind only grew more alert.

He immersed himself in the illusory panel that only he could see.

[Book of a Hundred Trades]

Those three ancient-looking characters seemed to hold some ineffable truth. They filled him with awe.

The line beneath them—[Every person in this world has a trade; through diligence, mastery may reach even ghosts and gods]—gave him still more to ponder.

"Through diligence, mastery..."

He murmured the words and stared into space.

More than half an hour passed like that.

As he sat deep in thought, the shanty's battered wooden door creaked open.

A gust of cold wind swept in, carrying the earthy smell of the street. Five men filed in behind it, with Xu Chun at their head.

Qin Geng's heart tightened. He hurriedly sat up straight.

Xu Chun's face was dark as a storm. One cheek was badly swollen, and a trace of blood still clung to the corner of his mouth.

The four men behind him were in much the same state: bruised faces, rumpled clothes. One had an eye blackened by what looked like a vicious blow.

Beside Xu Chun walked a brawnier middle-aged man named Jin He. He was a loyal man of few words, with the strongest arms in the shanty.

Jin He could have earned far more working as a Porter at the docks. But Xu Chun had once helped him, so he had stayed here pulling carts.

Half of Xu Jin's Shanty's name came from him.

The others were fellow villagers who had followed Xu Chun and Jin He from the countryside. They stuck together in Tianjin, sharing what warmth they could while they earned their bread.

The mood in the shanty turned oppressive. The air was thick with sweat, medicinal liquor, and barely contained fury.

"Uncle Xu... Uncle Jin..."

Qin Geng's voice came out dry. Seeing their injuries, his heart sank. "None of you got hurt too badly, did you?"

What he feared most was seeing someone with a broken arm or leg.

Here in Nine Rivers' Lower Reaches, a person's hands and feet were their livelihood. Lose the use of them, and your life was as good as over.

Fortunately, everyone seemed whole. None appeared to have suffered a crippling injury.

Xu Chun said nothing. He came over and thumped Qin Geng's shoulder with his uninjured hand.

He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a long sigh.

"We didn't take too bad a beating. At least we got to vent a little."

Xu Chun's voice was hoarse with a weariness hard to describe. "But we couldn't get the carriage back."

"Boss Lin has spoken."

Xu Chun went on, helplessness and resentment in his eyes. "You crossed into their territory to pick up fares first. You broke the rules. Lai Tou's side called it a lesson on behalf of South City Carriage House. That's the end of it."

"Damn it!"

Jin He spat, then grimaced as the movement pulled at the cut on his lip. "Lai Tou fights dirty. They call that a lesson? He was trying to beat Xiao Wu to death!"

"Enough. Keep it down."

Xu Chun stopped him with a curt word, then pushed something in through the door.

Creeeak—

A harsh scraping sound rang out as a battered handcart rolled up before Qin Geng.

"Boss Lin said we couldn't leave you without a way to earn your keep."

Xu Chun pointed at the handcart. His voice betrayed neither relief nor bitterness. "Got you an old cart from the carriage house. It's a rental. I paid three months up front."

Qin Geng's gaze settled on the handcart and stayed there.

His new carriage had been a proper passenger carriage.

Its brass handles had gleamed brightly enough to dazzle in the sun.

The body had been finished in fine black lacquer. Its leather seat, stuffed with cotton, had been comfortable to ride in.

Most important were its two solid rubber wheels. On bluestone streets, they had rolled fast and steady, with hardly a jolt.

With a carriage like that, a driver could wait outside the grand restaurants and foreign firms for well-heeled gentlemen and ladies.

The tip from a single fare could equal half a day's earnings for an ordinary Carriage Driver.

What stood before him now was a handcart.

Its two weather-beaten wooden handles had been rubbed glossy with use, their surfaces webbed with fine cracks.

The bed was pieced together from planks of uneven thickness. Dried mud and nameless grime filled the gaps.

Its two wooden wheels were absurdly large, with thin iron rims. One looked warped, leaving the whole cart listing slightly to one side.

This thing could hardly be called a carriage. It was a tool for hauling freight.

Pulling it meant going to the docks to carry heavy loads or hauling coal and odds and ends for people: the hardest, most exhausting work for the least pay.

Going from a passenger carriage to a handcart meant more than changing vehicles. It meant a fall in standing.

The others in the shanty looked at the handcart, anger and humiliation deepening on their faces.

How was this a solution? It was an insult.

Yet to everyone's surprise, when Qin Geng finally moved, his face showed none of the despair or defeat they had expected.

He slowly rose and walked over to the handcart. He ran a hand along its rough wooden handle, then pushed it a few steps and felt the wheels creak beneath it.

He was disappointed. He was bitter.

But another, stranger thought occupied far more of his mind.

As long as I have a cart... as long as I'm still pulling one... my experience will keep rising...

He could almost see the experience bar after [Carriage Driver (Level Four)] inching forward, slowly but surely, as he handled the cart.

"Uncle Xu."

Qin Geng turned to Xu Chun. His gaze was unnervingly calm. "How much was the rental? I'll count it as a loan."

"What are you saying, boy?"

Xu Chun frowned. "You took a beating and lost your carriage. I couldn't even settle the score for you. That's shameful enough. Don't talk to me about money!"

"Uncle Xu, that's not how I see it."

Qin Geng shook his head, but his voice was firm. "Here in Tianjin Guard, rules matter. I got greedy and went into someone else's territory to take fares. I broke the rules. I got beaten, and my carriage was taken because I couldn't defend myself. I've no one else to blame. Boss Lin has spoken, so that matter is settled. But the rental is my own affair. I should pay it myself."

He spoke clearly and without either arrogance or submission.

Xu Chun, Jin He, and the others stared at him.

They had not expected this shy, reserved youth to come through such an ordeal unbroken. If anything, he seemed to have grown up all at once.

Qin Geng said no more. He went to the handcart, gripped its handles with both hands, and heaved.

The battered cart groaned but rose steadily in his grip.

"Uncle Xu, Uncle Jin, all of you should put some medicine on those wounds and get some rest."

Qin Geng said, "I'll take the cart out, look for a job, and see how it handles."

"Xiao Wu, you..."

Jin He started to say more, but Xu Chun reached out and stopped him.

Xu Chun watched Qin Geng's retreating figure. Approval flickered in his clouded eyes. "Go on, Xiao Wu. This time, make sure you know your stand."

A stand was their patch, the place where Carriage Drivers earned their keep.

Xu Chun was warning him not to make the same mistake again.

"Got it."

Qin Geng smiled and answered.

He started pulling the handcart. Its weight made him stumble, but he quickly found his footing.

Without looking back, Qin Geng hauled the battered cart—far too large for his slight frame—out of the shanty. Step by swaying step, he disappeared at the end of the narrow, dim alley.

Only when he was out of sight did the stifled anger in the shanty finally erupt.

"Damn it! That Boss Lin is an animal too! What a blatant show of favoritism!"

One man punched the mud wall, shaking flakes of plaster loose. "Lai Tou gave him two women, and now he's planted himself firmly on Lai Tou's side!"

"Xiao Wu's voice has gone hoarse. They really didn't hold back."

"What kind of justice is that? Are we supposed to let them trample us for nothing?"

Jin He listened to their angry complaints, his face livid. He turned to Xu Chun. "Old Xu, can you really swallow this?"

"If I can't, what can I do?"

Xu Chun sat down in a corner and took out his pipe, but for a long while he couldn't get it lit.

"This is Nine Rivers' Lower Reaches, Tianjin itself. The Three Teachings and Nine Schools mix here like fish and dragons, and the rules carry more weight than the law! Even Xiao Wu understands that. Don't you?"

"I understand the rules!"

Jin He's voice was rough. "I also understand that my brother got beaten and his carriage was stolen! I can't swallow it!"

"Old Jin!"

Xu Chun snapped his head up. "Calm down! Boss Lin has only just taken office. His seat isn't secure yet, so he needs people like Lai Tou to be his dogs, biting whoever they can to build his authority. Going against him now would be smashing an egg against a stone! Have you forgotten how Old Eight from Ma Village Shack ended up at the bottom of the Tianjin River three years ago?"

At the mention of Old Eight, Jin He's anger faltered. Wariness took its place.

Xu Chun sighed, his tone softening. "I know. None of us can swallow this. But we came from the countryside with families depending on us. We have to endure it and wait. Fortune turns like the wind and water. Lai Tou's so busy clinging to power that he's offended everyone around him. One day, his master will kick that dog aside."

He knocked his pipe against the sole of his shoe and stood. "All right, stop standing around. Put medicine on your wounds and rest if you need to. The rest of you, come look for fares with me. We still have to live."

"All right."

"Got it, Brother Chun."

They were still seething, but they knew Xu Chun was right. One by one they dispersed, and the shanty grew quiet again. Only a gloom that would not lift lingered in the air.

Qin Geng pulled the handcart along Tianjin's uneven stone streets.

With every turn, the wheels went "creak, creak," like an old man struggling to catch his breath.

The noise drew looks from fellow drivers and idle men by the roadside. Some were sympathetic, some delighted by his misfortune, and some openly scornful.

Qin Geng paid them no mind.

All his attention was on pulling the cart.

He could feel precisely how his arms needed to pull, how his back and waist needed to brace, and how his legs needed to step to move the cumbersome cart with less effort.

Meanwhile, on the panel in his mind, the experience bar for [Carriage Driver] rose slowly but unmistakably.

[Experience: (13/40)]

[Experience: (14/40)]

Every sway, every effort, every turn of the wheels seemed to lay another brick in the road to his future.

The feeling was wondrous. It washed away the sting of those stares and soothed the last trace of humiliation in his heart.

Following his memory, Qin Geng passed through several alleys and arrived at Nine Harmony Restaurant.

It was not one of the finest establishments, but it had a good location. Merchants came and went from north and south, and there was money to be made.

Seven or eight passenger carriages were already parked haphazardly on the open ground outside.

Some were new and gleaming; others had paint peeling from their frames.

Some drivers wore respectable waistcoats; others were as ragged as Qin Geng.

Qin Geng parked his handcart at the very end of the line, in the least conspicuous spot.

He sat on a step. A young restaurant attendant spotted him and, without a word, brought out a large chipped bowl filled to the brim with strong tea.

"Brother Xiao Wu, have some tea. Warm yourself up."

"Thanks."

Qin Geng accepted the bowl and thanked him.

A bowl this large would have cost at least one copper coin in a teahouse.

Here, Qin Geng paid nothing.

In Tianjin, Carriage Drivers like them had a nickname: "stringers."

They carried all sorts of people through streets and alleys. In a single day, they heard and saw more stories than a storyteller could tell.

Which trading house had received new stock, which official had taken another concubine, what strange thing had happened on which street—they heard it all firsthand.

That was why shopkeepers were happy to do these "stringers" a small favor. A bowl of tea and a few courteous words cost little, and might earn some goodwill.

Maybe one day, he would hear something useful from their mouths.

The same went for the idle men and masters like Master Xin who scraped a living on the streets.

Of course, carriage drivers had an iron rule of their own. Eight words summed it up: zip your lips and let what you hear blow past.

Passengers talked about anything and everything in the carriage. It might be family gossip, or it might be business that could cost someone their head.

As a carriage driver, if you heard it, you had to let it pass your ears like a gust of wind. Once it blew by, it was gone, without leaving a trace.

Your lips had to stay zipped, too. Swallow every secret and let it rot in your belly.

A loose-lipped carriage driver could not last in this trade.

At best, you lost your passengers' trust, and no one wanted to ride with you. At worst, one careless remark could bring death down on you before you knew it, and you would be sunk in the Tianjin River to feed the fish.

Still, rules were rigid, and people were not.

Even information that was not meant to spread fell into two kinds: "dead lines" and "live lines."

A "live line" was harmless gossip, like some boss being afraid of his wife or some famous performer having a taste for men.

Such tidbits were not worth much, and letting them slip did little harm. Drivers sometimes traded them for a few cups of wine.

A "dead line," on the other hand, was information that could truly get someone killed.

That kind of information could never be sold on the side.

By the rules, it had to be reported to the Boss, who would pass it up to the carriage stand's Dragon Head.

The Dragon Head would bundle the information and sell it according to its value. He took the money and shouldered the consequences himself.

Anyone who dared sell a dead line privately broke the rules of the entire trade. Everyone would turn on him, and his end was often worse than if he had crossed a passenger.

What good was money if you did not live to spend it?

Qin Geng held a huge bowl in both hands, sipping his hot tea while keeping his eyes on the lead carriage outside the restaurant.

After three years as a carriage driver, he knew these ins and outs by heart.

Last time, he had gone to the ferry landing to snatch fares because he was desperate to earn money and pay his debts. Greed had gotten the better of him, and Lai Tou, who had never liked him, had caught him red-handed. That was how he had gotten his feet wet.

A fall into the pit made a man wiser. He would not stumble over the same thing twice.

As the saying went, "When the lead carriage's bell rings, ten thousand taels of gold follow."

The stand outside Nine Harmony Restaurant belonged jointly to Xu Jin's Shanty and another called Ma Village Shack.

Drivers from the two shanties took turns waiting for fares here, with seniority deciding their places in line.

The one at the very front was called the "lead carriage," or the "Dragon Head."

That place usually went to the longest-serving driver with the strongest reputation in the neighborhood.

The rule was simple: until the lead carriage moved and took a passenger, none of the carriages behind it could move.

Even if a wealthy passenger came out of the restaurant in a sable cloak, looking for all the world like a fat sheep ready for slaughter, you had to watch him pass without stepping forward to solicit his fare.

That first big fare belonged to the lead carriage.

Only after its driver took a passenger and pulled away could the others start taking fares in order.

If a wealthy passenger came along then, landing him was down to your own skill and luck.

Qin Geng was in no hurry. He waited quietly, like a patient hunter.

When he finished his tea, he returned the bowl to the young attendant, shifted over, and drew close to a skinny boy beside him.

The boy was named Li Gou. Like Qin Geng, he was an orphan with neither father nor mother, taken in by one of the old people at the shanty.

He had been a carriage driver even longer than Qin Geng—five full years. By rights, Qin Geng should have called him older brother. But Qin Geng had an aunt who had married into Jinmen City as a concubine. Among drivers who generally came from poverty, that counted as an impressive connection.

So although Li Gou was a few years older, he had always politely called him "Brother Xiao Wu."

"Brother Xiao Wu, are you... all right?"

Li Gou looked at Qin Geng, then glanced at the shabby handcart beside him. His eyes were full of sympathy. "That bastard Lai Tou hit way too hard."

"If I weren't all right, could I be out here waiting for fares?"

Qin Geng smiled and patted his chest, speaking as though it were nothing.

"That's good!"

Li Gou seemed to breathe easier, then cursed indignantly, "That son of a bitch Lai Tou will get his legs broken and be thrown into the Tianjin River one day! With Boss Lin backing him, he's almost stopped treating the rest of us like we matter."

After grumbling for a while, he suddenly lowered his voice and said to Qin Geng with an air of mystery, "Hey, Brother Xiao Wu, let me tell you something. I picked up a big fare to Jinmen City at noon, and something huge happened! You might even know the man involved."

"Who? Someone from the city?"

Qin Geng's interest stirred.

"A House Guard from Su Cloth Shop. What was his name... oh, right, Zhou Yonghe!"

Li Gou's face lit up as he talked. "What a sight he was! A black fur coat, glossy as could be, and leather boots. Even the way he walked stirred a wind! Brother Xiao Wu, didn't your aunt marry into the Su Family? Do you know this House Guard of theirs? Are you close?"

"House Guard" was trade jargon for the experts in big merchant houses, great lineages, and powerful gangs who could fight and kill, settle trouble, and hold the line. They were something between stewards and bodyguards.

Qin Geng curled his lip and shook his head. "Never met him."

His aunt was said to have married into the Su Family, but in truth she was an unwelcome concubine who could barely get out of the Su household. Qin Geng himself only had a chance to see her at the back gate on holidays and ask for a little spending money.

How would he ever meet someone as important as a Su Family House Guard?

Qin Geng was not the sort to slap his own face swollen just to look fat. If he did not know the man, he did not know him.

"Tch."

Li Gou looked disappointed, but his own story soon fired him up again. "Guess what happened? Halfway there, two foreign devils suddenly sprang out of an alley with those black guns that spit fire and shot at Master Zhou's carriage!"

"Foreign devils? With guns?"

Startled, Qin Geng leaned forward without meaning to.

"Exactly!"

Li Gou slapped his thigh, his voice shooting up an octave. "Bang, bang! Two shots! Louder than New Year's firecrackers! My calves cramped up on the spot. Good thing I was quick on my feet and sharp-eyed. I yanked the handles hard and pulled the carriage aside. That was the only reason Zhou Yonghe didn't take a bullet to the head!"

"And then?"

Qin Geng pressed him, curious.

He paid particular attention to stories about Martial Artists and other experts, though he also knew Li Gou was probably boasting about how fast he had moved and reacted.

With Li Gou's nerve, it was a wonder he had not wet his pants.

"Then it got even wilder!"

Li Gou was in full swing now, spittle flying as he spoke. "Master Zhou jumped off the carriage. He'd clearly been shot several times, and his clothes were red with blood, but he acted like nothing had happened! The two foreign devils tried to shoot again, but hah, too late! Master Zhou moved like a wildcat. He shot over there in a flash, and in a single exchange, he tore one of them apart with his bare hands!"

"Tore him apart?"

Qin Geng sucked in a cold breath, his eyes widening.

"You bet!"

Li Gou gestured as he spoke, fear and excitement mingling on his face. "He grabbed him by both shoulders and pulled. Rrrip! Flesh and blood flew everywhere! His guts spilled all over the ground!"

"Good heavens... Now that's an extraordinary man."

Qin Geng muttered to himself, a storm of towering waves rising in his heart.

The man had survived several gunshots, then torn someone apart alive.

That went beyond anything Qin Geng knew of warriors. It sounded like the demons and monsters from storybooks.

Qin Geng could not help wondering: if he learned martial arts and paired them with that blasted [Book of a Hundred Trades], might he one day master powers like that himself?

His body was small and frail, but the Book of a Hundred Trades could gain levels and grant talents.

If even a Carriage Driver could have [Divine Stride] and [Endless Breath], what might the [Warrior] trade offer?

Might there be talents like [Indestructible Diamond Body] or [Infinite Strength]?

For a moment, Qin Geng's thoughts raced.

"Shame, though."

Li Gou smacked his lips, regret plain on his face. "Master Zhou's attendant was rushing me to get moving, so I didn't have the chance. Otherwise, I'd have gone over and collected some blood. I've heard that eating cornbread dipped in a foreign devil's blood can cure a hundred illnesses!"

Li Gou's words pulled Qin Geng out of his daydream. He shot him a sideways glance and exposed him without mercy. "More like your legs went weak with fright and you hurried off with the carriage. If you hadn't been scared, knowing you, you'd have stood there watching. Wouldn't Master Zhou have given you a reward afterward? And the moment you got that money, wouldn't you have gone straight to Old Wang's on the corner for a big steaming bowl of lamb and flatbread soup?"

"Ha ha..."

Li Gou gave a couple of dry laughs at having his thoughts laid bare. Unembarrassed, he scratched his head and carried on. "Hey, Brother Xiao Wu, you've got relatives in the city, so you've seen more than me. Tell me, does a foreigner's blood really cure illness better than the blood of us Great Xin Dynasty folk?"

"Who knows?"

Qin Geng shrugged and was about to tease him some more.

Jingle, jingle—

A clear peal of bells rang out.

The driver at the very front of the line had shaken the copper bell hanging from his carriage handles.

"The Dragon Head has rung." He had taken the first fare and was leaving.

The drivers behind him could get ready to take passengers.

Every driver, including Qin Geng and Li Gou, perked up at once. They stopped talking, straightened their backs, and stared at the doors of Nine Harmony Restaurant with burning eyes, like a pack of hungry wolves waiting to be fed.

Qin Geng stood and went to his handcart, gripping its handles with both hands. He said to Li Gou, "Time to wait for fares. Don't complain later that I stole your passenger even with a handcart."

"Pfft."

Li Gou curled his lip and looked Qin Geng's battered cart up and down. "With that thing? I'll let you go first today. Wouldn't want Brother Xiao Wu to starve."