Chapter 5: Old Rong

Fortunately, no one else seemed to notice the scene.

I was momentarily stunned, as it was my first time seeing someone engage in such behavior in public. While I was frozen, the blond-haired man zipped up his pants, but then did something even more audacious: he reached for the backpack on the girl's back.

The lewd groping had just been an opportunistic act; his true profession was that of a pickpocket. Moreover, he reached out without the slightest attempt to hide it, even while I was staring right at him. I furrowed my brows, and the blond man’s other hand produced a small dagger, which he brandished at me. I looked up and realized several other people nearby were watching me with cold, predatory eyes.

To act in such a way, there had to be accomplices on the bus. Once discovered, they would shift from theft to robbery, even resorting to reckless violence. The girl herself realized someone was tampering with her bag; she trembled with nerves and began to sob quietly against my chest.

Recalling my experiences on the trains, I summoned my courage and used a specific gesture I had once seen a man named Liu Qingshan use against a scarred thug. I recited, "The ancestors left three treasures behind, disciples of all houses receive the true teachings, heaven and earth intertwine, the fire and water balance, fame spreads across the four seas. Greetings, old master of the craft, a true expert."

"What kind of gibberish is that? Enough with your rhyming!" The blond man, already annoyed that I was interfering with his fun, gritted his teeth and lunged at my abdomen with the dagger. His accomplices behind him also closed in, teeth bared.

Though everyone on the bus heard his insults and saw the blade, no one dared to speak up. They even made way for his accomplices to rush forward.

I am no bookworm. Having grown up brawling in the village and later facing ridicule and bullying for being poor in the city, I learned that my fists were the only way to maintain my fragile self-esteem. Of course, that was also what ruined my education. But those experiences meant that while I was panicked, I did not lose my head.

He was ruthless, so I had to be even more ruthless to intimidate him, or else my cousin Chen Jianjun and I would be no match for this gang. I grabbed the wrist holding the dagger and, lowering my head, slammed my forehead into his face. My skull connected with his nose, drawing a pig-like shriek of agony from him.

I pushed the terrified girl away. With his wrist still in my grip, I used both hands to wrestle the weapon from him; he was skinny and lacked strength, so I easily disarmed him. I grabbed his blond hair with one hand and pressed the dagger to his throat with the other, shouting at the charging gang, "Whoever comes closer, I’ll kill him!"

The blond man’s face was covered in blood, looking miserable, though it was mostly just a bloody nose. When the young thugs kept inching forward, assuming I wouldn't actually strike, I reversed my grip on the dagger and plunged it into the blond man’s arm. They stopped dead in their tracks at his scream.

"Kid, who are you with?" one of them asked.

"I'm with no one. Just a worker passing through, and I don't like what I see. I don't want trouble, but don't think about killing me. If I’m going down, I’m taking one of your brothers with me. Get off the bus! I’ll let your friend go once you’re gone," I said.

The man stared at me, and I stared back. In a fight, you must be vicious and your gaze must be unwavering; the moment you show hesitation, they see your fear. After twenty seconds of silence, he told the driver, "Stop the bus."

The driver slammed on the brakes and opened the doors. The passengers made way, and the gang jumped off. Once the doors closed, I breathed a sigh of relief and said to the driver, "Please, keep driving. Throw this guy off in a little while."

Five minutes later, the driver stopped again, and I pushed the blond man out. Only then did I realize I was covered in blood and drenched in sweat. My cousin, Chen Jianjun, was pale and shaking. He finally walked over, looked at my bloody hand, and said, "Cousin, are you okay? Don't worry, I have friends here too. I'll get them to settle the score with these people later."

"I'm fine. Do you have a cigarette? Give me one," I said softly. I wasn't a smoker, but I needed one to steady my racing nerves.

Chen Jianjun handed me one. Just as I lit it, someone nearby complained that smoking on the bus was uncivilized. I looked in that direction, and the voice vanished instantly. No one dared to meet my eyes. The crowd even moved away from me.

I didn't blame them for not helping earlier. Everyone looks out for themselves; when thieves pull knives at the slightest provocation, not everyone is brave enough to act. Even my cousin hadn't dared to make a sound, let alone a stranger.

The girl with the peach-blossom eyes who had hidden in my arms earlier was watching me with tear-reddened eyes. She gathered her courage, walked over, and wrapped a handkerchief around my hand. "Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," I replied.

The driver finally spoke up, seeming accustomed to such things. "Young man, you're lucky you're tough. These people steal and rob like this all the time. They always travel in groups of five or six, and they're vicious."

Hearing this, a passenger challenged him: "If you knew who they were, why did you let them on?"

The driver retorted, "They bought tickets. Why wouldn't I let them on? If I refuse to board them and get a complaint, are you going to pay my docked wages?"

The passenger persisted, "You could have called the police! Why didn't you help when the young man started fighting? If you had helped, we would have joined in too."

The driver turned and glared at the passenger. "Oh, give me a break. The first time I saw this happen, I tried to intervene. I ended up getting stabbed three times while I managed to injure two of them. It went to the police station and was ruled as a mutual brawl. When I asked the passengers to testify, they ran off faster than rabbits, and I ended up paying twelve hundred in medical bills for those thugs! You people only know how to brag. Expect you to help? Check your pants—did you piss yourself just now?"

The driver, having had his say, seemed to lose interest in the argument. As we reached the next stop, he told me, "Young man, you should get off here too. It’s not that I’m a coward, but I'm afraid they might be waiting for you at the terminal. Try to avoid this bus route for a while; they’re regulars here, and I’m afraid you’ll get the short end of the stick if you run into them again."

I thought that was sound advice, so I got off. Seeing me leave, the girl with the peach-blossom eyes clearly felt reluctant to part ways. Her reserve kept her from speaking, and her face turned bright red. Just as I was stepping off the bus, she chased after me and shoved a piece of paper into my hand.

"Call me on my pager!" she said.