Chen Tie soon reached the depths of Goldwood Street. The Tiger Head Gang occupied a corner of the street, and its main building was also a small two-story house.
Small gangs generally could only stake out territory in the deepest parts of the streets.
He knocked three times on the gate, one long and two short to signal that he was one of their own. The gate soon opened, revealing a somewhat wary face.
"Oh, it's Little Tie."
"Hello, Brother Liu. I'm here with a message. The Little Knife Gang's leader invites Brother Qiang over at the hour of the dog to discuss dividing up the street."
The Tiger Head Gang's leader was named Zhang Qiang.
After entering, Chen Tie immediately explained why he had come. He only stood in the part of the courtyard near the entrance, keeping his back to the gate or a wall.
Unless there were special circumstances, he stayed in the courtyard, never taking the initiative to enter the little building or look around.
Chen Tie's thinking was that gang members hacking people up was all too normal. If there was so much as a rustle in the wind, he could make a quick escape.
But to everyone else, Little Tie was someone who knew the rules and could be trusted.
"All right, got it. I'll tell Brother Qiang in a bit." Liu Huan nodded and casually took out fifteen copper coins.
"Thank you, Brother Liu."
Smiling broadly, Chen Tie accepted the coins. He was just about to leave when he saw someone walk out of the little building.
It was actually Old Zhang the carpenter.
"Oh, Little Tie's here too." Old Zhang looked momentarily taken aback.
"Hello, Uncle Zhang. I didn't expect to see you here."
"I've been making a new set of furniture here these past few days. It's almost finished." Old Zhang changed the subject. "If you've got nothing else to do, head home early."
"All right, Uncle Zhang. I'll be off, then."
With that reply, Chen Tie left the Tiger Head Gang's courtyard.
Apart from this errand, he had nothing else to do today.
Chen Tie deliberately took a detour to another street in the western part of the city, where several dilapidated courtyards stood.
As he approached, he could hear voices reciting texts inside a courtyard, along with an old schoolmaster teaching.
The plaque above the courtyard gate bore three large characters: Private School Hall.
He had heard that the old man teaching there had once earned the licentiate degree in his youth. Unfortunately, he had neither connections nor backing. In this age where fists were truth, he had ended up opening a private school to make a living.
Families nearby with some means sent their children here. They did not ask that their children acquire five cartloads of learning, only that they could at least read.
Chen Tie made his familiar way to a section of the courtyard wall and brought over several stones to stack at its base. Standing on them, he could just see the lessons inside through a gap in the wall.
Chen Tie had slowly chiseled out that gap himself under cover of darkness. It was fairly high up, so he figured the old schoolmaster would have trouble noticing it.
Every time, Chen Tie had to tell himself that although this behavior was improper, a scholar's business could not be called stealing-only purloining.
"After two months of peeking, I've at least learned the writing here. I won't have to be illiterate."
As Chen Tie watched, he used a finger to copy the characters onto the ground at the foot of the wall. He had no interest in the texts themselves; he only wanted to learn to read.
After all, he had brought his values from his previous life with him. Expecting all this archaic scholarly verbiage to reshape them was plainly impossible.
He stayed until evening, when lessons ended. After moving the stones away, he walked home.
Back at his dwelling, all he could make for dinner was mallow soup, with a small amount of fermented beans mixed in for flavor.
As usual, Chen Tie lay down very early. Around the middle of the hour of the dog, he suddenly heard heavy footsteps in the alley, along with the sound of something scraping against a wall.
He was a little puzzled. Could there really be a thief in this wretched alley?
He got up quietly and went into the courtyard to listen through the gate. Judging by the pace, someone had passed his doorway. The sounds stopped roughly when they reached Old Zhang's home.
In principle, keeping excessive curiosity in check could avert a great deal of danger.
After wavering for a moment, Chen Tie cautiously opened the gate anyway.
He sniffed. There was a faint smell of blood in the air.
He took out a fire striker and saw a little blood on the ground outside his home, as well as intermittent red smears on the wall.
Mustering his courage, Chen Tie stepped around the blood and slowly felt his way along the trail. Not far away, he saw a figure lying on the ground.
When he drew closer, he discovered that Uncle Zhang was lying there on his back.
Old Zhang's face was deathly pale, and his body was covered in blood. Perhaps sensing the light, he slowly opened his eyes, the faint flame reflected in his pupils.
"Uncle Zhang, are you all right?"
Chen Tie went to Old Zhang's side and bent down, just about to reach out to check his condition.
"Don't move!" Old Zhang stopped him in a hoarse voice. "Don't get too close to me."
"I'm not going to make it. Just pretend you never saw me." Old Zhang paused for breath, opened the tool bag he carried, and took out a tightly wrapped little cloth pouch. "Take this. It's enough for you to become an apprentice and learn martial arts."
"I've seen you lingering around the martial arts school several times. You're still young. You have a long road ahead..."
Before Old Zhang could finish, the light vanished from his eyes. His hand holding the little pouch dropped limply, and his life slipped away.
Chen Tie picked up the little pouch. There was no mistaking the feel of silver.
His heart racing, Chen Tie glanced left and right, hurriedly stuffed the little pouch into his robes, then picked up a dry twig and used it to turn over Old Zhang's clothes.
Yes, there really were no other valuables.
Uncle Zhang, rest in peace.
Chen Tie observed a second of silence, then slowly headed back, clearing away any footprints he might have left as he went.
He slowly closed the gate. His younger sister Chenxi was already asleep inside.
He stuffed the little pouch into the pickle crock, made sure he had overlooked nothing, and immediately lay down on the bed.
Before long, louder footsteps sounded outside, but soon afterward, a group of people left, cursing.
Drifting between sleep and wakefulness, Chen Tie endured until dawn before slowly going outside.
Several people had already crowded into the alley ahead, all neighbors from nearby.
They gathered together, talking over one another.
Chen Tie walked over. Old Zhang's pale-faced body lay on the ground, but there were clearly a dozen or so additional blade wounds on him.
"Ah, in times like these, a human life isn't worth a dog's."
"He had some backbone, though, actually poisoning Zhang Qiang, the Tiger Head Gang's leader. I heard they started fighting at the Little Knife Gang's headquarters yesterday. Both sides came to blows."
"Old Zhang had it hard too. But avenging his child cost him his own life."
Listening to the neighbors talking over one another, Chen Tie finally pieced together what had happened.
Old Zhang had once had a daughter. She had been only thirteen when Zhang Qiang, the Tiger Head Gang's leader, abducted her and robbed her of her chastity. Afterward, she drowned herself in the river.
Old Zhang was only an ordinary man. When he went to the yamen to lodge a complaint, the constables devoured his property down to the last scrap. From then on, he had ended up in this little alley inhabited by refugees.
Not long ago, the Tiger Head Gang had happened to need several sets of tables and chairs, and they had sought out Old Zhang.
Old Zhang had seized the chance to buy some poison and smear it on the chairs. Last night, Zhang Qiang discovered he had been poisoned while at the Little Knife Gang's headquarters. Thinking the Little Knife Gang was responsible, he fought fiercely with them and was beaten to death on the spot.
The Little Knife Gang pressed its advantage and attacked the Tiger Head Gang's little building. They discovered that Old Zhang's chairs were poisoned and traced it back to him. He had failed to escape in time, leading to what had happened last night.
Old Sun's low voice rang out. "Since Old Zhang's gone, and he had no family, let's give him a proper burial."
At those words, the surrounding neighbors fell silent, their gazes evasive. Clearly, none intended to step forward and bury Old Zhang.
Although these were chaotic times and the authorities did little, the bodies of those who died in the city without anyone to bury them were cleared away every day.
Normally, they were buried in the burial ground outside the western city limits, with a separate hole dug for each body.
But in such a large city, so many people died that the yamen runners saved themselves the trouble by simply digging one large pit and burying all the bodies together.
Even getting a grave of your own was difficult.
Old Sun looked around, his lips parting slightly, but said nothing.
Although Old Zhang had always repaired everyone's tools for free, he understood their concerns. What if they offended a gang because of this?
"Grandpa Sun, I'll give you a hand."
"I happen to have nothing to do today. Everyone else probably has things to attend to."
Chen Tie spoke up.
I took his silver. The least I can do is see to his body.
The neighbors around them breathed sighs of relief and chimed in.
"Let Little Tie do it, then. I have things to do."
"Yes, Little Tie's still young. A little more experience will do him good."
Soon, Old Sun entered Old Zhang's home through its half-closed gate and pulled out a battered handcart.
Together, Chen Tie and Old Sun lifted Old Zhang's body onto it, then pulled the cart out of the alley.
The burial ground west of the city.
This wasteland was the final resting place of the poor. Earthen graves of all sizes lay scattered haphazardly about, without the slightest semblance of order.
Chen Tie and Old Sun took turns digging for four hours before they finished preparing Old Zhang's resting place. Soon, a little mound of earth took shape.
Old Sun turned toward a large burial pit nearby. The soil showed clear signs of having been disturbed.
"Little Tie, if I pass away one day, I'll have to trouble you to dig me a grave of my own." Old Sun wiped away his sweat. "With that many people, I'd feel too cramped."
"Grandpa Sun, that's hard labor. With these skinny arms and legs of mine, I might not finish even if I dug all day," Chen Tie said with perfect seriousness.
"You little brat. Just wait till Grandpa Sun deals with you later," Old Sun scolded with a laugh.
A little liveliness seeped into the somber mood.
At noon, they pulled the handcart back to the alley, only to find Old Zhang's gate standing wide open.
Chen Tie set down the cart and looked around. The little courtyard had been emptied out, and even the wooden door to the room lay on the ground.
He immediately understood: the neighbors had stripped Old Zhang's home bare.
Old Zhang had left no one behind, so naturally, after his death, the neighbors had devoured the estate of a man without heirs.
Everything useful was taken by the living. Perhaps that made a certain sense in these chaotic times.
Without pausing in the slightest, Old Sun turned toward his own home, leaving behind a few lightly spoken words.
"Little Tie, you've worn yourself out half the day. Go home and get some rest too."
That afternoon, Chen Tie did not go to the Little Knife Gang. After all, he was not a gang member.
Besides, if he went over now, what if they sent him on errands digging individual graves?
While his younger sister Chenxi played in the little courtyard, Chen Tie carefully opened the pickle crock, pushed aside the pickles on top, and took out the little cloth pouch Old Zhang had given him.
He slowly undid the slipknot, revealing the assorted bits of silver inside.
Chen Tie's eyes gleamed. He picked up a piece of silver with both hands. It felt slightly cool and had some weight to it. Its surface was rough and uneven, with a layer of gray-black marks in the crevices.
Clearly, this silver had been saved up over a long time.
After examining it carefully, Chen Tie estimated that there were fifty-six taels of silver.
Chen Tie murmured to himself.
"It takes fifty taels of silver to learn martial arts at a martial arts school. Thank you for your contribution, Uncle Zhang."