The Martial Saint of the Defiled World

On April evenings, a thin layer of mist always shrouds the city of Jin Gang.

The fog rose from the Guhe River, mingling with the coal smoke from the cargo ships at the dock and the cooking smoke from the houses in the alleys, and wandered slowly through the alleys of Yong'an Lane like a ghost.

As the main body of the Zhaojie area of ​​Jingang City, Yonganli is the nominal location of the Zhaoguo City Hall.

The granite-built Western-style buildings, the chambers of commerce with bronze plaques, and the mansions where cars frequently came and went constituted the respectable side of Yong'an Lane.

Behind these glamorous facades, supporting this vast and bustling urban life, lies a labyrinth of winding alleyways. That's where ordinary people from the lower classes gather to live their lives.

Even within the alleyways, there are varying elevations.

Among them, Jishan Lane is considered relatively decent, with slightly wider lanes and houses that have been renovated in the last twenty years. Many houses have glass windows, and there are public taps at the entrance of the lane.

However, just two alleys away in Guanlanli, the scene is quite different.

The houses in Guanlanli are much older now.

The gray brick walls are mostly weathered and peeling, and the black tiles on the roof are uneven, with some places hastily covered with tarpaulin to prevent leaks.

The alley was so narrow that only one person could push a bicycle through at a time. The windowsills on both sides almost touched each other, and clotheslines were haphazardly placed in mid-air, with dripping water forming thin streams on the slippery bluestone slabs.

The public water taps are located deep in the alleyways, and queuing to draw water is a daily sight.

Jiang Shaosheng lives here, at No. 17 Guanlan Lane, which was left to him by his parents.

It is a two-story old-fashioned brick and wood house. The front half of the ground floor serves as the hall and kitchen, while the back half is relatively narrow.

A steep wooden staircase leads to the upper attic, which is Jiang Shaosheng's bedroom.

The house is old; the wooden floorboards creak underfoot, and the white walls have long since turned yellow.

But compared to those cramped tenements like the "72 Tenants" where seven or eight families are crammed together, having such a secluded place to live is already considered lucky.

This house was Jiang Shaosheng's most tangible asset in this chaotic world, the source of his confidence to still stand tall and say "I have a home."

As dusk deepened, the last rays of sunlight streamed through the small window of the attic.

Using this dim light, Jiang Shaosheng prepared the food in the kitchen.

A small handful of noodles, a few leafy greens, a spoonful of lard, and a sprinkle of salt—that's dinner.

Just as the noodles were scooped into the bowl, there was a knock on the door.

"Shaosheng, it's me."

Judging from the voice, it was my uncle.

Jiang Shaosheng put down his bowl, walked over, and unlatched the door.

Chen Zhaoxing, standing outside the door, was wearing a dark blue cloth shirt, carrying a small package wrapped in oil paper in one hand, which was still steaming, and a wine pot in the other.

He was only in his early forties, but his temples were already gray, his face was etched with deep wrinkles, and his back was somewhat hunched, making him look like someone in his fifties.

"Uncle, what brings you here? Come in quickly, it's cold outside."

Jiang Shaosheng stepped aside.

Chen Zhaoxing entered the house and, as if familiar with the place, placed the oil paper package and wine pot on the square table.

There were no lights on in the house, only the embers of the stove casting a faint red glow.

He rubbed his hands together and exhaled a puff of white breath: "Come on, Shaosheng, let's have a kiss and say a few words."

Jiang Shaosheng responded, turned around and took out two rough porcelain bowls from the cupboard, and then took out a dish of pickled vegetables.

Chen Zhaoxing had already unwrapped the oil paper package, which contained two fluffy white steamed buns, still steaming hot, with a tempting aroma of meat wafting through the air.

"Your aunt just finished making it, it's minced meat, eat it while it's hot."

Chen Zhaoxing picked one up and stuffed it into Jiang Shaosheng's hand, but he himself just sat there without moving.

Jiang Shaosheng held the scalding hot bun in his hand and glanced at his uncle's thin cloth shirt.

"Uncle, you haven't eaten yet, have you? Let's each have one."

"I've already eaten; I came after I ate."

Chen Zhaoxing waved his hand, picked up the wine pot, uncorked it, and poured wine into both bowls.

"Eat it quickly, it won't taste good if it gets cold."

Jiang Shaosheng didn't refuse anymore and took a bite.

The buns have thin skins and generous fillings, with delicious meat juice.

He knew that his uncle's claim of "having eaten" was most likely a lie.

It takes more than 15 minutes to walk briskly from Jishanli to Guanlanli.

If they had really eaten at home before coming here, how could these buns still be so hot to handle? They probably tucked them into their clothes and ran all the way here, keeping them warm.

My uncle worked as an accountant in a small foreign firm. It sounded respectable, but in reality, his wages were meager, and he had to put up with the attitudes of foreigners and compradors to support his family of four.

Although Aunt Shen Xiangjun was a thrifty and meticulous housekeeper, even the most skillful woman cannot cook without rice.

These meat buns are probably a rare treat for the family, yet they insisted on setting aside two for him.

He felt a pang of sadness, silently finished the steamed bun, and then picked up the wine bowl and took a sip.

The fiery liquor rolled down his throat, bringing a warm sensation, but also making his eyes slightly hot.

Chen Zhaoxing also took a sip of wine, smacked his lips, and then looked up to examine his nephew more closely.

"I heard what happened at Yongshoutang today from the people on the street. Manager Wang is gone."

Jiang Shaosheng nodded and briefly recounted what he had seen that morning.

Chen Zhaoxing listened silently for a long time before sighing.

"Alas, although Manager Wang is shrewd with his calculations, he's not exactly mean to his employer. In this world, it's true that no one, young or old, is safe on the road to the underworld; how can someone just disappear like that?"

Jiang Shaosheng put down his bowl and gave a wry smile.

"My luck is really strange. Including Yongshou Hall, I've worked for three different employers this year."

The first grain shop owner was arrested by the police in the middle of the night; the second was a comprador of a foreign firm, who was walking down the street when a stray bullet shot him; and now Manager Wang is…”

He didn't say anything more.

Chen Zhaoxing sighed heavily, picked up the wine pot and poured some more wine for Jiang Shaosheng, then filled his own cup as well.

"Don't say such discouraging things. Everyone has their own fate. What does it have to do with you, a mere employee, if the boss is in trouble? It's just that they're having bad luck and getting tainted by misfortune."

In the current situation, the foreign firms and businesses in the concessions have high barriers to entry, and you can't get in without strong connections.

In Zhaojie, even the larger shops are tightening their belts, holding onto their money to weather the winter, and they're short-staffed, with each employee filling a small position.

"Don't worry, I'll keep inquiring around for you these next few days. I'll see if there's any odd job I can do at the docks or warehouses. It'll be hard work, but at least I can make a living."

"Uncle, I'm sorry to have troubled you again."

Jiang Shaosheng was grateful. His uncle was struggling financially himself, yet he always remembered him.

"What kind of heretical talk are you spouting?"

Chen Zhaoxing waved his hand and picked up the bowl.

"We're like family, aren't we? Let's not talk about that. Come on, let's drink."

The two clinked bowls together, felt a little warmer, and started talking more.

As they chatted, the wine jug was emptied and the steamed buns were finished.

A blush rose on Chen Zhaoxing's face, indicating that he had said enough.

He glanced at the completely dark sky outside the window, stood up, and said, "It's getting late, I have to go back. Your aunt is waiting."

When he said "your aunt," his tone was a little timid.

Jiang Shaosheng knew that his aunt Shen Xiangjun was all bark and no bite; she complained about her family's difficult circumstances and criticized her husband for being poor but generous.

In reality, she often chooses to turn a blind eye to her husband's financial assistance to his nephew in order to maintain this hard-won warmth.

Jiang Shaosheng also stood up: "Let me see you out."

"Why would I deliver something? It's just a few steps."

Chen Zhaoxing patted his shoulder, then suddenly pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket and quickly stuffed it into Jiang Shaosheng's hand.

"Take this money and buy some rice and noodles so you don't go hungry."

He added, "Don't let your aunt know."

Jiang Shaosheng gripped the cloth bag tightly, his heart warmed as if by the stove.

"Uncle, I can't..."

"Take it!"

Chen Zhaoxing put on a stern face and said in a firm tone, "I'm your uncle! Why are you talking to me like that? Just stay home and live your life properly. Don't think nonsense. No matter how hard the world is, people still have to live. Even a blind sparrow won't starve. There's always a way out."

After saying that, he didn't give Jiang Shaosheng a chance to refuse. He turned around, opened the door, and his thin figure quickly disappeared into the thick night and fog outside.

Jiang Shaosheng stood by the door for a while.

A night breeze blew in, carrying the faint strains of opera music drifting from afar. A few barks from deep within the alleyway added to the desolation.

He closed the door, bolted it, and then placed a thick wooden stick on top of it.

Back at the table, by the dim light from the stove, I slowly cleared away the dishes.

Then, in the dimly lit hall, he began to demonstrate the starting stance of Bajiquan.

Relax your shoulders, drop your elbows, tuck your chest, and straighten your back.

In chaotic times, people drift like duckweed, and human life is as worthless as grass.

The saying "If you have a weapon, you will naturally have the urge to kill" is too extreme, but "If you have nothing of value, you can hardly move an inch" is indeed true.

Every job you do now will be a foundation for your future.

After finishing a round of boxing practice, I was slightly sweaty, but my mind was much calmer.

He blew out the last sparks from the stove and groped his way up the stairs in the dark.

The attic was low and had only one small window.

He lay on the hard bed, staring at the dark ceiling.

Outside the window, the night in Jin-gang City is deep.

The neon lights of the distant concessions shimmered faintly through the mist, shifting in a blurry and hazy light.

Nearby, only the scattered footsteps of people returning home at night and the drawn-out sound of the night watchman's clapper could be heard.

"Everything's alright!"

Jiang Shaosheng closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep.

……

After an unknown amount of time, just as Jiang Shaosheng was fast asleep, he felt a sudden tightness in his heart.

An inexplicable sensation jolted him awake, instantly causing him to break out in a cold sweat.

He immediately opened his eyes and involuntarily looked out the window.

In the dim light from the window, he saw several dark figures darting past like ghosts beneath the window.

Those people were masked, their movements were extremely swift, and they only cared about rushing in one direction.

Jiang Shaosheng had been hearing very well since childhood, and he was certain that he heard the word "chase".

What are these people chasing?

The moment the thought crossed my mind, the sense of unease vanished as quickly as the tide receded.

The footsteps quickly faded into the distance, and the alley returned to silence.

Jiang Shaosheng flipped out of bed with a somersault, quickly put on his coat, and searched the house inside and out, but found nothing, and his destiny was not triggered again.

Left with no other choice, he had to lie back down.

He knew this was the warning his "danger instinct" was giving him.

In other words, in that instant, something, which was likely what that group of people were chasing, posed a real threat to them, or at least carried strong malice.

He considered himself to be honest and well-behaved, never causing trouble for anyone, never even getting into a fight, let alone having any life-or-death feuds with anyone.

Jiang Shaosheng couldn't come up with an answer.

The alley had fallen silent, as if nothing had ever happened.

He exhaled, suppressing the extraneous thoughts.

I need to find work tomorrow, so since I don't have anything else to do, I'll take a break.