Chapter 7: Awang Restaurant

"This has nothing to do with being a half-immortal; it’s just the 'underworld craft' you dismissed as boring earlier," I said softly.

Chen Jianjun’s eyes darted around. Among all our relatives, he was considered one of the sharpest—otherwise, he wouldn't have left home to work so early. Working away from home is common now, but back in 1999, the term was still quite foreign. Most country folk had a mindset limited to the local soil, scratching a living from the earth, and they felt an instinctive ignorance and fear toward big cities. If you wanted to go work with a fellow villager, you had to owe them a significant favor.

"Tell me more," he said with a lecherous grin. "If a guy could pull off a 'hero saves the beauty' stunt, who knows? I might just win her heart."

"Is she very beautiful?" I asked out of curiosity.

"You haven't seen her. Once you do, you'll know what 'a beauty that belongs only in heaven' means. But honestly, we can only look. Word is, several local bosses and a few big shots have had their eyes on her for a long time. If Uncle Yong hadn't declared he was going to take her as his goddaughter, she’d have been passed around by now. Even if she were willing, I’m not sure I’d dare take her. Enough of that, tell me, how did you know she was being targeted by thieves?"

"There’s an inconspicuous mark by her door: two triangles, one upright and one inverted, side by side, with a few strands of hair on the right side. It’s a common tag used by thieves, indicating that a single woman lives there. They’re surely planning to strike soon," I explained.

Chen Jianjun went back to take a look but remained skeptical, suggesting the mark might just be a child’s doodle. I couldn’t argue with him; it was a matter of belief. After explaining, I warned Chen Jianjun not to mention it to anyone. There was an underworld code: see through a trick but don’t expose it. Cutting off someone’s livelihood is like killing their parents. If the thieves found out we had broken their code and leaked their secret, we might find ourselves in trouble.

Chen Jianjun agreed readily. We left and headed to his workplace. It was a restaurant called Awang Restaurant—three stories high with top-tier decor. The first floor was a lobby, the second had private rooms, and the third was for entertaining guests. My cousin Chen Jianjun, who was hailed by our family as a great success, was actually just a waiter there, earning four hundred and thirty yuan a month. However, because the restaurant was upscale, the clientele was wealthy, providing extra income through tips.

The person he introduced me to was a slightly flabby middle-aged man. Chen Jianjun fawningly offered a cigarette and said, "Brother Cai, this is my cousin, just arrived from the countryside. I watched him grow up; he’s steady and sharp."

Brother Cai took the cigarette, looked me up and down, and said in a thick Sichuan accent, "The lad looks decent enough." His gaze then shifted to my hand, which was wrapped in gauze.

I quickly tucked my hand behind my back to avoid making a bad impression on the boss. He squinted at me and asked, "How’d you get hurt?"

Before I could speak, Chen Jianjun jumped in. "On the bus ride here, he ran into some petty thieves. My cousin just got into town and didn't know the risks, so he stepped in to help. The thief got desperate and pulled a knife. Don't let his honest look fool you; he disarmed the guy and scared him off. Otherwise, it could’ve been a disaster!"

Brother Cai chuckled softly. "Got guts, I see. Jianjun, since you asked, I have to give you face. But with that hand, you can’t work as a waiter for a few weeks. Why not go home and rest?"

"I’m fine..." I quickly interjected.

"It’s not about whether you’re fine; it’s about how customers will eat when they see that injury. How about this: can you work as a security guard? I’m short one. The pay is lower, but it’s easier—three hundred and twenty a month, plus a fifty-yuan housing subsidy."

"I can do it," I said.

"Good. Keep your eyes sharp. Not many people dare to cause trouble here, but our customers are big bosses; you don't want to offend any of them. You’ve got a clean look; who knows, maybe some rich lady will take a liking to you, and you’ll rise to the top," Brother Cai laughed.

With the job settled, Brother Cai had me fitted for a uniform and introduced me to the staff and the other two guards. After registering at the front desk, my hiring was complete. As Chen Jianjun took me to buy daily necessities, I asked if I had made the right choice becoming a guard.

He said it was fine. The pay and tips were lower, but it was much easier than serving people. And he added that Brother Cai wasn't entirely wrong—if a wealthy woman took a shine to me, I’d be set.

"Is Brother Cai the owner?" I asked.

Chen Jianjun dropped his respectful facade and spat on the ground. "Hardly. The owner is Awang—isn't that obvious from the name? His sister used to work here as a waitress. The boss took a liking to her and she bore him a child. Awang has a wife and two daughters, but his sister was lucky enough to give birth to a son. The boss’s wife had to swallow her pride and accept it. Awang opened branches elsewhere, and his sister is the boss-lady there. This guy, Brother Cai, is just the brother-in-law filling in as a manager. Don't let his look fool you; he’s ruined plenty of the waitresses here!"

I said nothing. I was taught by my mother from a young age never to gossip about others' faults. Even though she was a village housewife, she never participated in such talk. Moreover, regardless of how Brother Cai got his position, they were people who had "made it" out of the village, which, to someone like me, made them figures to look up to.

Of course, in my youth, I had my own pride and recklessness. I was certain I was here to fight for a bright future. But for now, it was true that a single word from Brother Cai could decide whether I survived in this strange city. Perhaps, as our teacher used to say, a person can have backbone, but must never be arrogant.

After I was settled, Chen Jianjun went to work. I returned home and put on the brand-new security uniform. Looking at the person in the mirror, small as a speck of dust, I told myself: Zhang Zhicheng, you chose this path. Even if you have to swallow your own broken teeth and blood, you must keep walking.

How to walk? One step at a time, on my knees if necessary. More than half of China is made up of farmers like me. Eighty percent of that half share my ambition to rise above others and change their fate. How many eventually have their edges smoothed away by life, forced to surrender, gradually forgetting their initial stubbornness and dreams? How many truly make it out?

The thought made me panic. I picked up that book again and read the line on the title page: "A man must not treasure his life too much; a woman must not treasure her body too much."

The only thing I had to offer was this wretched life. Liu Qingshan, whom I’d met briefly on the train, became the guiding light in my chaotic life. Like a lone wolf catching the scent of blood, I waited for my moment, ready to act. I read the strange book gifted by the master word by word. The jargon, the rules, the tea-arrangements—everything was awkward and difficult to memorize, yet I devoured it all as if I were starving. Not for anything else, but for Liu Qingshan’s words about "gathering the three elements at the peak."