A Drinking Session Earned Him a Godfather

The food and wine were laid out, and the two drank warm wine together, its fragrance filling the room.

Their coarse porcelain bowls clinked with a clear sound. The mellow aroma of Songjiang Three Whites wafted past their noses, while the savory scent and steam of braised food dispelled the slight chill of the late spring evening.

Old Chen raised his bowl and took a great swig. His brows relaxed as the fiery sensation in his mouth gave way to comfort. His gaze was full of appreciation as he looked at Shen Yan.

"You're young, kid, but you know what you're doing. You don't panic when trouble comes, and you don't go soft when you act. You know when to leave yourself room, and you don't show off. You're far better than those spineless cowards at the station who just collect their pay."

"I've been a patrolman in the West District for twenty years. What Green Gang thugs, street hoodlums, or Japanese bastards haven't I dealt with? There really aren't many young men like you who know what's what, neither cowardly nor overbearing."

Shen Yan took a small sip of wine.

"You flatter me, Uncle Chen. I'm just trying to make a living in these chaotic times. All I ask is to keep a clear conscience and protect the people around me. From now on, I'll still be counting on your guidance around here."

He spoke tactfully, with a young man's edge but no lack of humility. Every word struck a chord with Old Chen.

They drank bowl after bowl, and as the wine flowed, they spoke more and more openly.

Old Chen filled him in on the balance of power in the West District-which areas belonged to the Green Gang, which ones the military police patrolled most heavily, and who at the police station couldn't be trusted.

Shen Yan also revealed a little about himself. He said only that he had been born in Guangzhou, his family had suffered at the hands of bandits, and he had ended up in Shanghai, determined to gain a foothold in the police force and survive these chaotic times.

There were no insincere pleasantries, only honest words from the heart.

As they talked, the two found themselves getting along better and better.

The more they drank, the warmer they felt, and the more they talked, the closer they grew.

Old Chen actually couldn't hold his liquor all that well. After a few bowls, his tongue began to tangle. Holding his bowl, he stared at the dim yellow lamplight on the table with a somewhat unfocused gaze and suddenly sighed.

"When I was young... I was just like you, always thinking about making something of myself."

Shen Yan listened quietly without replying.

"Back then, I worked in the French Concession. I knew a girl who worked at a silk shop. She was pretty and kind, and she didn't look down on me for being a poor patrolman." Old Chen sipped his wine, his gaze drifting into the distance, as if he could see through the walls to events from decades ago.

"We'd agreed to get married once we saved up enough money. She made me a pair of shoes and put them away in the cabinet. She said she'd give them to me to wear on our wedding day..."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"What happened then?" Shen Yan asked softly.

"Then? Then the January 28 Incident broke out." Old Chen raised his bowl and drained it in one gulp, his tone as flat as if he were talking about someone else. "Japan bombed Zhabei, and a bomb hit the silk shop where she worked. By the time I got there, the whole street had been flattened."

Shen Yan fell silent.

"They never even found her body." Old Chen poured himself another bowl. "Those shoes are still at the bottom of my cabinet."

He looked up, his cloudy eyes hazy with drink and tinged with something else that was hard to put into words.

"Twenty years have passed in the blink of an eye. If I'd married her back then, our child would be about your age by now..."

Before he finished, he laughed and waved a hand.

"I'm getting sidetracked. Let's drink!"

Shen Yan raised his bowl and clinked it against Old Chen's.

He said nothing, but something inside him was gently touched.

Old Chen looked at him, then suddenly set down his bowl and spoke in earnest.

"Young Shen, tell me honestly. What do you think of me, Old Chen?"

Shen Yan was taken aback.

He looked at Old Chen's face, deeply lined by the years, and his eyes, cloudy yet clear, and suddenly thought of his father from his previous life, who had died young. He remembered how his father would come home from work, his face full of exhaustion, yet still smile at him. He remembered how his father had scrimped and saved to put him through school.

His heart warmed.

He stood, raised his bowl, and bowed respectfully to Old Chen, calling out in a clear voice:

"I, Yan, have wandered for half my life without finding a worthy lord. If you will not turn me away, I wish to take you as my foster father!"

"Good! Good! Today I'll-wait, what did you say?"

Old Chen froze on the spot, the wine bowl in his hand coming to a halt as his eyes went round.

He had only wanted to take on an apprentice, someone who could help him in the police force from now on.

He hadn't expected Shen Yan to skip a step and claim him as his godfather!

Just like that, they had gone from partners to father and son...

What now? Would he have to worry about feeding him, taking care of his every need, and seeing him married with children?

He realized it in an instant: this kid was as sly as a monkey. Give him a pole and he really would climb it.

Old Chen was both annoyed and amused.

But as he watched the young man bowing respectfully before him and thought of what he had just said, he suddenly felt-

Maybe this was fate.

Heaven had seen him alone for twenty years and sent him a son.

Old Chen smacked his lips, waved a hand, and agreed.

"All right, all right. You've got me! From this day on, you're my godson!"

After draining his bowl, Shen Yan gave Old Chen three resounding kowtows.

Their standing as father and son was settled.

Under the dim yellow light, the little shikumen house felt warmer than ever.

Having gained a son without the pain of childbirth, Old Chen was overjoyed.

He drained bowl after bowl of wine, and before long, he had drunk himself unconscious.

Shen Yan helped him to bed and carefully tucked him in. As he turned to leave, he suddenly noticed the old cabinet beside the bed. Its door hadn't been fully closed, revealing a neatly stacked pair of cloth shoes inside.

The uppers had yellowed, but the stitching was fine and even.

Shen Yan stood there looking at them for a while, then gently shut the cabinet and quietly closed the door behind him as he left.

It was late at night outside, and the long street was deserted. All he could hear was the faint rustle of the night breeze passing through the lanes.

Shen Yan walked slowly back to his rented place, recalling the strange yet heartwarming way they had become family that evening. A smile tugged at his lips without his realizing it.

He thought of the shoes Old Chen had mentioned and the light in his eyes when he said, "Our child would be about your age by now."

This old man was worth caring for in his old age and seeing off at the end.

As he walked, unrestrained laughter and shouting suddenly came from the street ahead, mingled with a few lewd words in Japanese, breaking the silence of the night.

Shen Yan frowned and immediately slipped over without a sound, keeping to the shadows along the street.

Two drunken men stood swaying at the entrance to an alley. They wore swords at their sides and crooked kimonos, their faces full of malice and lust.

[Name]: Kuroki Yū

[Gender]: Male

[Identity]: Black Dragon Society ronin

[Good and evil points]: -90

[Thoughts]: Pretty girl! Pretty girl! Pretty girl!

[Name]: Yamamoto Ken

[Gender]: Male

[Identity]: Black Dragon Society ronin

[Good and evil points]: -85

[Thoughts]: Pretty girl! Pretty girl! Pretty girl!

When Shen Yan saw the two men's off-the-charts negative good and evil points, his face instantly turned icy.

As a standard corporate drone, he had always hated staying up late to work overtime.

But tonight, I'm definitely working overtime!

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the system minimap. A small squad of Japanese patrolmen had just walked away, heading deeper into the neighborhood. They were clearly too lazy to bother with their two drunken comrades.

Then I won't stand on ceremony.

Shen Yan instantly hunched his back, put on a fawning, sleazy expression, and hurried up to them with an ingratiating smile, speaking in a halting accent.

"Honorable sirs, pretty girls! Plenty of pretty girls!"

Kuroki Yū glanced up at him. The moment he opened his mouth, a powerful stench of alcohol and bad breath hit Shen Yan in the face, nearly making him pass out.

Fine.

You dumbass, that's one more reason for you to die.

Yamamoto Ken grabbed Shen Yan by the collar.

"Where are the pretty girls? Hurry up and take us to them! We'll reward you handsomely!"

"Yes, yes!"

Enduring the stench of their breath, Shen Yan led them toward a secluded alley.

"Yoshi, you're a very good citizen! We'll reward you well!"

The three went deeper and deeper, and soon came within sight of the end of the alley.

"Honorable sirs, the pretty girls are right over there."

Shen Yan pointed to the shadows at the end of the alley.

Suspecting nothing, the two ronin staggered forward.

Shen Yan checked the minimap again, making sure there was no one else around.

He took a pistol from his space, screwed on a suppressor, flicked off the safety, raised it, and fired!

"Pfft, pfft."

After two nearly inaudible shots, the two ronin were hit in the back of their heads and fell dead without a sound.

"Thank you for the reward, honorable sirs. I'll take those good and evil points."

[Ding!]

The cool system notification sounded in succession.

[The host has slain two evildoing Black Dragon Society ronin, punished foreign enemies, and protected the people. Reward: +175 good and evil points]

[Current Good and Evil Points balance]: 219 points

[As this is the host's first time killing Japanese invaders, additional reward: Japanese Language Mastery (native level)]

A vast amount of Japanese knowledge instantly flooded his mind-he had mastered the accent, slang, and grammar.

The corners of Shen Yan's lips rose slightly.

An unexpected bonus, too.

Now, with his level of Japanese, never mind ordinary conversation-even if he were to write a few haiku, they would be no worse than Matsuo Bashō's.

He opened his space and put away both corpses, along with all the bloodstains and shell casings on the ground.

From then on, those two beasts would be gone from the world forever, without leaving the slightest trace.

After making sure he had overlooked nothing, Shen Yan turned and headed home.

He still had work tomorrow.

Staying up late wasn't a good habit.