Chapter 28: The Rules of the Martial World

He continued walking with his dog, specifically beckoning me to move from behind him to his side.

Once we reached a quieter area, Uncle Yong said softly, "You were right about what you said today. Everyone is born of flesh and blood, with no inherent distinction between high and low. But this place is overcrowded. A village originally meant for three thousand now holds thirty thousand. With such a crowd, you get all sorts of people—the dregs of society coming here to scrape by. This chaos cannot continue. Although a security team was established later and they act with a heavy hand, the results have been minimal; it has even stirred up tensions between the locals and the outsiders. There was one other thing you said that I agree with: the locals have indeed caught the tailwind of policy and risen to the top, but that has been the way of the world since ancient times—once people have money, they cling to their lives."

"Some of the young people here haven't had much schooling; they value 'street code' and brotherhood. Like you, they don't care about money, and if they disagree, they draw knives. Do you think they care if you’re rich or poor? If they don't like you, they’ll kill you and flee. So what if they get caught and executed? It’s just one more life lost."

"Even setting aside the friction between locals, don't the outsiders have their own troubles? The Henan Gang, the Sichuan faction, the Northeast group, the Hubei crowd—people from every region band together and fight to the death. Over the past twenty years, there haven't been fewer than five hundred bodies pulled from the river at the village entrance. How many girls have been ruined? Those who want to work honestly live in constant fear, and the women don't dare go out alone. If this continues, it will all fall apart."

"In the end, why has it come to this? Because people today have forgotten the word 'discipline.' In the old days, although everyone was poor and their methods might have been ruthless, they still respected the 'code of the underworld.' Now, all these people care about is money—they’ll betray their own kin for it. But I digress. I’m old, and I have deep feelings for this village; I watched it develop step by step. I can't control what happens in the outside world, and I understand that development comes with growing pains, but I want this village to be alright. For years, I’ve been thinking that to solve this problem, the outsiders must be managed by one of their own, and this management must establish order. No matter what you do, the rules cannot be broken."

"I’ve been looking for someone to step up, someone I could support with my meager reputation to help them establish that order. That person needs to be ruthless, intelligent, ambitious enough to want to get ahead, yet respectful of the code. I’ve looked at many: some are ruthless but lack brains, others are smart but lack the stomach for violence, and those who are both smart and ruthless often use despicable, shameless methods—letting such a person gain power would only create more chaos. Then I met you. I think you are the right fit. You are ruthless, you have a brain, your ambition is written on your face, and you understand the old underworld customs. Most importantly, you were chosen by the God-Tune Gate. I trust the eye that the God-Tune Gate has for people."

The hope that had just been extinguished in me flared up once more.

Yesterday, Xiaowen was saying that I needed to know what Uncle Yong wanted, what kind of person he wanted me to become, so that I could strive in that direction. Today, Uncle Yong had given me the answer. Perhaps even the conversation at the rice noodle shop earlier was a test.

Uncle Yong didn't look down on outsiders. He just wanted a sense of order in this small corner of Jinju Village.

"Uncle Yong, if I can really make a name for myself, I guarantee I will uphold the order you want. I left home to seek wealth—not because I love money, but because I have no personal pursuit for luxury. At the very least, what I want right now is to hold my head high for my parents," I said.

"You’re still too green," Uncle Yong countered. "You know about the incident at the Awang Restaurant, right?"

"The third floor, the gambling den. I know. I intend to get up to that third floor. I’ll earn the money myself and find my own people, but I know this road won't be easy. I won't ask for much of your help; if one day I do end up dead on the street, I only hope you can provide for my parents," I said.

"Go ahead and do it. It’s true that I’m not in a position to help you directly—not just because you’re green, but because the reasons are complex. I’m not without enemies, and if they knew I was supporting you, you wouldn't be able to handle the heat. Besides, the locals might not understand why I’d support a poor outsider instead of one of our own. But Uncle Yong gives you his word: if you really die, I will look after your family," Uncle Yong said.

"Thank you," I replied.

"If you pull this off, I’ll take you as my godson!" he said, looking at me.

With that, he waved his hand and said, "Go back. It’s time for work, and I want to walk around on my own."

I almost jogged all the way back. By the stairs, I saw Xiaowen just finishing up and getting ready to head out. Seeing my cheerful expression, she asked, "Did you find money on the ground?"

"I’m just happy to see you," I said.

She rolled her eyes. "I’m the woman you’ll never get in this lifetime. Off to work, bye."

She flicked her sleeve and turned to leave, her pleasant hair fragrance lingering in the air. I took a deep breath, ready to head upstairs, but that was when I saw a new mark by Xiaowen’s door.

It was a mark left by that "Old Rong"—the thief.

He had previously left a mark indicating his intent to target a single woman. I had replied with a mark indicating a "high-level master." Now, he had added a new diagram next to it: a triangle with a black line running through the center, with the character "two" on the left and "one" on the right.

The symbol meant "split the spoils fifty-fifty."

He didn't want to let Xiaowen go, but he didn't want to offend a member of the old underworld, so he was asking me to partner up. Although Xiaowen knows martial arts, she is still a woman, and the thieves of the "Dark Eight Sects" are despicable—who knows what kind of disgusting tricks they might use? Furthermore, how could I ever let Xiaowen be in any danger?

But how should I deal with this thief?

I crouched down, picked up a piece of coal dust, and drew a picture next to the "fifty-fifty" mark: a sun.

The sun represented "day." By drawing this, I was telling him I agreed to join forces and was asking for the time of the operation.

After finishing, I went home. My cousin, Chen Jianjun, was already up and brushing his teeth. I went to change into my security uniform. A poor kid doesn't fuss over injuries; at least the guard cap would hide the bandages on my head.

Before today, work felt like just killing time, but with a goal in sight, the energy I felt going to work was entirely different.