When Qin Geng returned to the shanty, Uncle Xu, Xu Chun, and Uncle Jin had long since gone out with their rickshaws.
That was the lot of the poor: stop working, stop eating. Even if something good had happened yesterday, the sun still rose today, and they still had to go out into the streets, sweat until they split in eight, and earn a few copper coins.
Qin Geng shut the battered wooden door, his heart pounding even faster than when he sprinted with his rickshaw.
"Five silver dollars... and another five next month!"
He paced before the hard plank bed, his straw sandals making a faint rustle against the muddy floor.
Qin Geng pulled the little cloth pouch from inside his clothes, untied it, and poured all six silver dollars onto the bed.
"Clink—"
The clear, ringing sound was more beautiful in that dim shanty than a star performer singing onstage.
Six silver dollars were a fortune in the slums.
If word got out, never mind the ruffians from Yi He Shantytown—even the poor fellows living alongside him might turn green-eyed.
Qin Geng drew a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.
Money in his pocket invited trouble. Spent on acquiring skills, it would become a blessing.
Shopkeeper Lu's words still rang in his ears: "Among the Three Teachings and Nine Schools, every trade has its path to the divine."
Those words had set his blood alight, making him feel that even pulling a rickshaw could lead him to the heavens. But he knew all too well how vicious this world was.
The "Zombies" he had seen that morning at the foot of Bell Mountain, dressed in official robes and leaping three meters at a time, had doused much of his arrogance like a bucket of icy water.
Running fast was how you escaped with your life;
Fighting was how you secured your place in the world!
Daoist arts, Confucian arts, feng shui and yin-yang—they sounded mysterious, but where was he supposed to find a master?
Such experts either lived deep in the mountains or sat as honored guests in grand estates. A rickshaw puller like him had no way to reach them.
Only the martial world offered a path. In Tianjin, plenty of people opened schools and took disciples, and plenty hired themselves out to guard homes and courtyards. Its paths were the roughest, but also the most practical.
"First, pay back the money!"
Qin Geng made up his mind.
He crouched and rummaged under the bed for a good while before dragging out a moldy little wooden chest from the very back.
It held almost everything he owned. He searched through it and found a blue-gray long gown.
The gown had been washed pale, and its cuffs bore two patches. Still, compared with the sleeveless work clothes he wore pulling his rickshaw, caked with sweat stains and greasy grime, it was his only "respectable" outfit.
After changing, he found a sturdy hemp cord and bound the six silver dollars tightly around his waist, against his skin. Then he fastened his gown over them.
Only when he was sure nothing could go wrong did Qin Geng push open the door and stride out of Xu Jin's Shanty empty-handed, leaving his rickshaw behind.
Beyond the shantytown, he followed the official road north for the better part of an hour before the towering walls of Jinmen City came into view.
The moment he entered, noise surged toward him.
Tianjin was now the greatest metropolis in the north of the Great Xin Dynasty, the so-called "Gateway of the Emperor, Nine Rivers' Lower Reaches."
Though Foreigners had carved a vast stretch of land to the east into the Concession, put up Western-style buildings, and posted Foreigners patrolmen with heavy clubs, the old city still had a bustle and prosperity all its own.
The streets teemed with traffic: rickshaws, horse-drawn carriages, bicycles, and even the occasional black automobile belching smoke—the rides of Foreigners and wealthy comprador merchants.
Shops crowded shoulder to shoulder on both sides of the road.
Cloth sellers, imported-goods merchants, secondhand clothing dealers, and food vendors flew their banners in the wind as shop assistants called out over one another.
"Hot rice cakes, fresh from the steamer—"
"Scissors sharpened—kitchen knives honed—"
Qin Geng threaded through the crowd. His steps were light, but his gaze had unconsciously grown more appraising.
Before, he had looked at this prosperity for the spectacle, with envy. Now, with six silver dollars on him and Shopkeeper Lu's words in mind, he looked at the world with more confidence—and more ambition to find a place in it.
He had a clear destination this time: the area around the bustling Secondhand Clothing Street.
On his previous visits to Jinmen City, he had mostly gone to the Su Family's grand house by the Su Cloth Shop. Back then, he was a poor relative coming to borrow money and beg for help. Even if he arrived empty-handed, no one faulted him for it; at worst, he got a few cold looks.
This time was different.
He was going to repay a debt—and ask another favor.
If he wanted something done, he had to observe the proper courtesies.
Last time I visited Aunt, she kept looking at the watch on First Madam's wrist. She couldn't hide how much she envied it.
As Qin Geng walked, he calculated in his head. I wonder if six silver dollars would buy one like it.
His aunt, Qin Xiu, had suffered plenty herself.
Years ago, his wretched father—her own elder brother—had gambled until he lost his mind, then sold his unmarried sister into the Su Family as a maid to pay his debts.
How old had she been then? She had cried herself hoarse while several thugs forced her into a cart.
Qin Geng had been small. All he could do was watch, powerless to stop them.
Over the years, Aunt had endured life in the Su Family. With her looks and quick wits, she had risen from maid to concubine. She was only the seventh concubine, but to outsiders, she had flown onto a high branch and become a phoenix.
Qin Geng knew how hard-won that transformation was. She had sharpened her wits into needles and pricked out a path to survival among the women of that sprawling estate.
She had probably scraped together the money for his rickshaw by saving every coin she could.
That kindness weighed heavier than a mountain.
Lost in thought, Qin Geng turned into a rather imposing shop: Hendeli Watch Shop.
Its name was well known throughout Tianjin. It specialized in clocks and watches imported from the West.
The moment he stepped inside, he was met by an air of foreign elegance.
The glass counters gleamed. Inside stood all kinds of mantel clocks, pocket watches, and delicate wristwatches.
Rows of clocks hung on the walls, their tick-tocks blending together like a flowing river of time.
There were few customers just then, only two compradors in Western suits looking at pocket watches.
The shopkeeper was a man in his forties with gold-rimmed glasses and slick, glossy hair. He wore a dark-blue long robe and jacket, though a strip of snow-white shirt cuff showed at his wrist, along with a glittering gold watch. He had the shrewd air of a man at home in both Chinese and Western worlds.
When he saw Qin Geng enter, the shopkeeper did not chase him off like a snobbish assistant might have done.
A man in this business needed a sharp eye.
He could tell at a glance that although Qin Geng was shabbily dressed and his gown fit poorly, he carried himself with plenty of spirit. His eyes, especially, were startlingly bright. He looked less like a loafer browsing idly than a man with money and a purpose.
"What can I show you, young sir?"
The shopkeeper came out from behind the counter. "A mantel clock to grace the home, or a pocket watch to hear it tick?"
Qin Geng showed no nerves. He cupped his hands. "Shopkeeper, I'd like a gift for an older woman in my family. Nothing too expensive, but it should be presentable."
He paused, then added a little awkwardly, "I can spend about one silver dollar."
One silver dollar was hardly a major sale at Hendeli.
The gold and diamond watches cost dozens, even hundreds, of silver dollars.
But the shopkeeper's smile did not fade. Businessmen knew that harmony brought wealth, and even a mosquito's leg was still meat.
Besides, in Tianjin, there were plenty who begged for food one year and became lords the next!
"One silver dollar... A gift for an elder. That's a fine gesture."
After a moment's thought, the shopkeeper turned and took several relatively simple ladies' wristwatches from a velvet tray in the corner of the counter.
"Have a look at these, young sir. They came from the East. Their movements aren't as precise as the Swiss ones, but they keep good time."
"This one has a silver-colored rim and a small face, with a piece of red glass set into it. Very festive."
Qin Geng leaned in for a look.
The watch was indeed exquisite. Its silvery case glinted coolly beneath the light, and its strap was made of fine black leather. Roman numerals marked the face, with a red stone no bigger than a grain of rice set at twelve o'clock. He knew it was only colored glass, but it still gave the watch a touch of flair.
His aunt might be a concubine, but she was only in her early twenties. The style was neither dowdy nor frivolous. It suited her perfectly.
"How much is it?"
Qin Geng asked.
"This watch normally sells for one and a half silver dollars."
The shopkeeper flicked a few abacus beads. "Since it's for an elder, I'll give you an honest price: one silver dollar and a hundred copper coins. That's practically cost price. Consider it the start of a friendship."
Qin Geng calculated quickly.
One silver dollar and a hundred copper coins was still within his means.
He nodded, took a silver dollar from inside his clothes, counted out a hundred copper coins, and stacked them neatly on the counter.
"Done. I'll take it. Please wrap it nicely for me."
"Of course! Just a moment."
The shopkeeper deftly took the money, found a small box embossed with gold foreign lettering, lined it with red silk, and carefully placed the watch inside. Then he tied a lovely bow around it with red ribbon.
Qin Geng accepted the box and tucked it carefully into his clothes. He thanked the shopkeeper again before turning to leave.
Ninggan Street, Su Residence.
This street was one of Tianjin's famed wealthy neighborhoods. Everyone who lived here had money or status.
And the Su Family stood above the rest.
The Su Family had made its fortune in silks and satins. Later, rumor had it, they had forged ties with Foreigners and expanded their business into arms and canal shipping.
Qin Geng stood outside the side gate of the Su Residence and looked up at its towering walls.
This was no mere house. It was a city within a city.
The outer wall alone stood nearly ten meters high, built of tightly fitted blue bricks and topped with barbed wire.
Inside, pavilions and halls rose one behind another. Supposedly, there were over a thousand rooms, and the guards, servants, maids, and older serving women together outnumbered the soldiers in a battalion.
The main gate, painted vermilion and studded with brass, was reserved for honored guests and the masters of the house. It usually remained shut.
The side gate was open, with people coming and going without pause.
There were vendors delivering vegetables and meat, stewards carrying ledgers, and guards wearing uniforms.
Qin Geng walked familiarly up to the side gate and cupped his hands toward a young servant guarding it.
"Sorry to trouble you."
The servant was leaning against the doorframe, picking his teeth. He raised his eyes at the sound.
For a gatekeeper at a grand estate, the most important skill was not guarding the property but recognizing people.
Even if someone was a poor relation of the master's family, so distant their family trees barely touched, a gatekeeper remembered after one visit who they were, what backing they had, and how they ought to be treated.
"Well, if it isn't Brother Xiao Wu?"
The servant recognized Qin Geng at once. He was neither fawning nor arrogant, merely raising his brows with a teasing grin. "What's this? No rickshaw work today? Come to ask Seventh Madam for a few silver dollars?"
Qin Geng nodded and smiled along. "That's right. I have something I'd like to see Seventh Madam about. Sorry to trouble you, but could you let her know I'm here?"
"Sure. Wait here."
The servant gave him no trouble. He turned and called to a younger page inside the gate. "Hey! Go tell them Seventh Madam's nephew from her own family is here."
"Right away!"
The page answered and ran inside.
"Rest here a while, Brother Xiao Wu," the servant said. "This grand estate has plenty of rules. Word takes time to pass in and back out again."
"Of course, of course."
Qin Geng was in no hurry. He squatted beside the wall and waited.
He waited for a full half hour.
Such were the rules of a grand estate: messages passed through layer after layer, each rank rigidly observed.
By the time Qin Geng's backside had gone numb, the page finally came running back, panting. He leaned close and whispered a few words in the gatekeeper's ear.
The servant nodded, turned to Qin Geng, and cupped his hands. "Brother Xiao Wu, Seventh Madam says you may enter. Xiao Yan'er, show him the way."
The page named Xiao Yan'er answered in a clear voice, "Brother Xiao Wu, follow me."
"Thank you."
Qin Geng stood, straightened his gown, and followed Xiao Yan'er across the threshold of the Su Residence.
As soon as he entered, the noise outside vanished, replaced by an oppressive hush and solemnity.
Smooth bluestone slabs paved the path beneath his feet, with neatly trimmed flowers and trees on either side.
Qin Geng followed Xiao Yan'er through one moon gate after another and along corridor after corridor.
The Su Residence was astonishingly large, a maze in all but name.
As they passed a secluded courtyard, Qin Geng faintly heard shrill screams and the crack of a whip striking flesh.
He glanced over instinctively. Two burly men stood at the courtyard gate, Mauser C96 pistols tucked into their belts and vicious looks on their faces.
"That's..."
Qin Geng's heart lurched.
"Shh—"
Xiao Yan'er turned and put a finger to his lips. "Brother Xiao Wu," he whispered, "that's the family's Discipline and Punishment Office. It's a private prison. They lock up servants who break family rules, or... people in business who won't cooperate. Just keep walking. Don't look around or listen."
A chill ran down Qin Geng's back.
This was the foundation of a great household. This was power.
Within these high walls, they were the law, with the power of life and death in their hands.
It only strengthened his resolve to learn martial arts and make something of himself.
In this man-eating world, only by becoming a wolf could he avoid being slaughtered like a sheep.
After another quarter of an hour, the two finally arrived at a small courtyard deep within the estate.
The courtyard was not large, but it was tastefully arranged.
Several crabapple trees grew there. It was autumn, and their yellowing leaves lent the place a desolate beauty.
"Seventh Madam, Brother Xiao Wu is here."
Xiao Yan'er stood outside the door and announced him respectfully.
A languid but slightly cool woman's voice came from inside. "Let him in."
Qin Geng drew a deep breath, lifted the door curtain, and went in.
A faint incense burned inside.
A woman in a pale purple qipao sat on a cushioned couch, reading a book.
She looked to be in her early twenties. Her fair skin and features bore some resemblance to Qin Geng's, but she carried the poise of someone long accustomed to high standing, along with a faint sorrow she could not quite conceal.
This was Qin Geng's own aunt, the Su Family's seventh concubine, Qin Xiu.
Two pretty young maids stood behind her, gently tapping her legs with padded massage mallets.
"Aunt."
Qin Geng stepped forward and bowed with utmost respect.
Qin Xiu set down her book and glanced up at him. The corner of her mouth curled, though it was hard to tell whether she was smiling. "What wind blew you here today? Why aren't you pulling that precious rickshaw of yours? What brings you all the way into my secluded courtyard?"
Her words were sharp, but there was little coldness in her eyes.
Qin Geng did not beat around the bush. He took the heavy cloth pouch from his coat and offered it to her with both hands.
"Aunt, I came to pay you back."
Qin Xiu paused, apparently surprised.
She waved the maids away.
"Five silver dollars?"
She did not reach for the pouch. She merely asked the question.
"Yes. Principal and interest—it's all there."
Qin Geng spoke earnestly. "And... thank you for lending me the money to buy my rickshaw. I haven't forgotten what you did for me."
With that, he took a finely wrapped box from his coat, placed it gently on the table, and pushed it toward Qin Xiu.
"When I came last time, I saw you glance at the First Madam's foreign watch more than once. I can't afford one set with diamonds, but this watch is a small token from your nephew. I hope you won't turn your nose up at it."
Qin Xiu looked at the box, and something stirred in her eyes.
She reached out with slender fingers and gently opened it.
The silver case, black strap, and red glass ornament gleamed in the room's soft light.
She stared at the watch for a long while, her gaze distant.
At last, she sighed softly and closed the lid.
"Hah. No one visits the temple without a prayer."
Qin Xiu looked up, her shrewd, capable air returning. "You think I don't know what you're like? These five silver dollars and this watch must have emptied your pockets."
"Go on, then. What do you want from me this time? Don't give me that 'repay what you borrow, and you can borrow again' routine. I haven't even had time to warm this money in my hands, and I'd wager you're already scheming to get it back out of them."
Caught out, Qin Geng showed no embarrassment. He just scratched his head and grinned shamelessly. "Nothing gets past you, Aunt."
His smile faded, and his expression turned serious. "Aunt, I want to learn martial arts."
"Martial arts?"
Qin Xiu frowned.
"Yes."
Qin Geng met her gaze. "The world's too chaotic, and I can't bear to pull a rickshaw my whole life. I've heard the Su Family keeps quite a few remarkable people around, especially Master Zhou, the House Guard. He's a true expert. I'd like you to introduce me. Even if I have to start as an apprentice, I want to learn a couple of real moves to defend myself."
Qin Xiu looked him up and down, her expression complicated.
"You? Learn martial arts?"
She shook her head. "Do you think learning martial arts is child's play? It takes bitter work! And it costs a fortune. The gift to take on a master and the medicinal baths alone are no small expense. You can barely afford to eat. Where would you find the money to fill that bottomless pit?"
At that, she glanced at the pouch and the box on the table.
Her hand brushed over the box.
Her slender hand pushed the shabby pouch of money back to him, leaving only the box with the watch.
"I'll keep the watch. Take the five silver dollars back."
"Aunt, but—"
Qin Geng grew anxious and started to speak.
"..."
Qin Xiu shot him a glare, cutting him off. "Let me make this clear. I'll introduce you once. Whether Master Zhou agrees to take you on depends on you."
"And if you do start learning martial arts, the expenses will be sky-high. I may have a place at the Su Family's table, but I still have to watch other people's faces. I can't afford to support a martial arts student."
"Even if you're starving, don't come asking me for money."
Harsh as her words were, warmth surged through Qin Geng's chest.
He quietly put away the pouch and bowed deeply to Qin Xiu.
"Don't worry, Aunt. If I can get through the door, I'll walk the rest of the road myself. I'll earn my own money! I won't trouble you!"
"All right. Spare me your vows."
Qin Xiu waved a hand impatiently and called toward the door. "Xiao Hong!"
A young maid in green came in.
"Madam."
"Take him to the stables in the inner courtyard and see if Master Zhou is there. Tell him this is my nephew from my family, and he wants to learn a few moves to defend himself. Ask him to see what he can arrange."
"Right away, Madam."
Xiao Hong answered brightly, then beckoned to Qin Geng. "Come with me."
Qin Geng bowed to Qin Xiu once more, then followed Xiao Hong out.
After they left Qin Xiu's courtyard, Xiao Hong led him toward the northwest corner of the estate.
The grounds here were plainly less refined than the front courtyard. Bluestone paving gave way to packed earth, and the faint smells of horse manure and fodder drifted through the air.
After winding through turn after turn, they arrived at a large courtyard beside the stables.
The courtyard was spacious—almost empty.
Yellow earth covered the ground. Several heavy stone locks lay about, and a few wooden training dummies stood in a corner, cracked from repeated palm strikes.
In the middle of the courtyard, a man in black training clothes sat on a bench with his back to them. He was not tall, but his build was lean and powerful. He was unhurriedly wiping down a short blade that flashed cold in the light.
The man seemed to hear their footsteps. Without turning his head, he spoke in a low voice that grated like metal against stone. "Who's there?"
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