Proving God begins with the principle that no effort is wasted.

The aftermath of the clash between the Canal Gang and the Black Tiger Gang at the docks spread to the grain shops on Linhe Street within three days.

Both gangs suffered heavy casualties. The Black Tiger Gang was forced to retreat to its old stronghold in the south of the city. The Cao Gang was busy taking stock of its territory and appeasing the merchants, and had no time to clean up the mess.

Linhe Street was caught in a power vacuum between the two factions, and overnight it became a paradise for all sorts of vagrants and thugs to take advantage of the chaos.

Although some members of the Black Tiger Gang came to investigate last night, they did not notice anything unusual and simply thought they were ordinary guards, so they left hastily.

Jiang Lan knew what was going on, but she didn't say anything and just went to work at the grain shop as usual.

As Jiang Lan carried the rice bag toward the warehouse, she could still hear the sounds of the street.

That afternoon, there weren't many casual customers in the shop. Jiang Lan had just put the last bag of rice into the warehouse when the curtain of the shop door was suddenly lifted off, and three figures swayed in.

The leader was a lean man with a short brown shirt tied around his waist and a slick, oily stick tucked behind his back. His triangular eyes scanned the shop, and he was clearly not there to buy rice.

Jiang Lan didn't put down the empty sack in her hand. Leaning against the warehouse door frame, she stared coldly at the group without moving her feet. She took in the surrounding escape routes and the size of the other people.

"Where's the boss? Get out here!" The lean man slammed his hand on the counter with a loud "bang," his voice so loud that the rice container on the counter shook.

Uncle Zhou hurriedly lifted the curtain from the back room, his face plastered with his usual apologetic smile: "Gentlemen, would you like to buy rice or oil? Our shop is honest and fair, young and old alike."

"Buy rice my ass!" the wiry man sneered, spitting all over the counter. "The docks are under our brothers' control now, you know? Your shop is on our territory, so you'll have to pay two hundred coins a month in management fees. Not much, so if you know what's good for you, pay it up quickly, and I'll guarantee you can open your shop safely."

Uncle Zhou's smile froze for a moment, his back still bent: "Gentlemen, our shop is just a small business, always operating honestly. Whether it was the Black Tiger Gang or the Canal Gang's share of the profits, we never missed a month. This month's payment hasn't arrived yet..."

"The past is the past, the present is the present!" The wiry man slammed his hand on the counter again, causing the abacus on it to slide half a foot. "Don't try to use your connections to bully me! If you don't pay up today, you can forget about opening this shop!"

Two burly thugs behind him immediately stepped forward, their hands on their groin, looking menacing.

Uncle Zhou was so frightened that he took half a step back, and sweat instantly beaded on his forehead. Just as he was about to say a few more words of apology, a steady voice suddenly came from behind him. The volume was not loud, but it clearly drowned out the thugs' shouts.

"Wait a minute."

Jiang Lan put down the sack in her hand, walked over slowly, gently pulled Uncle Zhou half a step behind her, and looked up at the lean man.

He was still wearing his martial arts school uniform, with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing his muscular arms. His eyes were calm, showing no fear whatsoever.

"Who the hell are you? Who gives you the right to speak here?" The skinny man glanced at him up and down, a hint of wariness in his triangular eyes, but his tone remained arrogant.

"I'm the guard of this shop," Jiang Lan said in a nonchalant tone. "You want to collect management fees? No problem. First, produce the receipt from the Canal Gang."

The lean man was taken aback, as if he hadn't expected him to say that, then cursed, "What cop? My word is law!"

"The docks are in chaos right now; anyone can come and collect money." Jiang Lan looked at him, her tone still flat, but her reasoning was crystal clear. "If we give you the money today, and tomorrow the canal gang comes and says they don't acknowledge the debt and want to collect it again, will you bear the loss?"

Uncle Zhou quickly chimed in, "Yes, yes, yes! This young man is right! If you gentlemen had official receipts from the Grand Canal Gang, we would pay whatever amount is due without hesitation, no questions asked!"

The wiry man, his face flushed red with embarrassment, suddenly pulled a short stick from his back and slammed it against the counter. Pointing at Jiang Lan's nose, he yelled, "Shut the hell up! I said I'd take it! If you don't pay today, I'll break your arm!"

Before he finished speaking, he took a step forward, the short stick in his hand whistling through the air, and smashed straight at Jiang Lan's shoulder.

Uncle Zhou was so frightened that he cried out "Oh dear!" and his face turned pale.

But Jiang Lan didn't dodge.

Just as the short stick was about to hit his shoulder, he suddenly stretched out his right hand, his five fingers as hard as iron, and grabbed the end of the stick with perfect precision, pulling it gently into his arms.

The lean man was pulled forward by the sudden force, his center of gravity shifted, and he fell face-first into the counter.

Before he could react, his throat suddenly felt heavy—Jiang Lan's left fist was firmly pressed against his Adam's apple, the force just right to lock his breath, preventing him from uttering a single word. He froze on the spot, not daring to move.

"Don't move." Jiang Lan's voice remained calm.

The two thugs who had come with them were about to rush forward when they saw their boss being subdued in one move, with his throat pressed against a fist. They stopped in their tracks, unsure whether to advance or retreat, their faces turning pale and then red.

Jiang Lan loosened her fist, casually threw the short stick she had snatched to the ground, and took a step back, giving the other party a way out.

"The dock is now unclaimed land. We understand you want to make money." He looked at the lean man who had recovered and was coughing violently while clutching his throat, and his words were still clear. "But if you take this money today, when the canal gang comes tomorrow, the first person they'll look for is you who took the money under false pretenses, and the second person they'll look for is us who broke the rules. No matter how you look at it, it's not worth it."

"Go back and wait for the rules of the Canal Gang to be set. Uncle Zhou will not shortchange you a single penny on the amount of fees you are required to pay."

The lean man clutched his throat, coughing until his face turned red, his eyes filled with both fear and hatred as he looked at Jiang Lan.

He knew he had met his match today. The young man in front of him looked quiet and unassuming, but his skills were formidable. Even the three of them combined might not be a match for him.

He gritted his teeth, glared at Jiang Lan, and squeezed out, "Fine, you've got guts. We'll see!"

With a wave of his hand, he and his two henchmen slunk away, lifting the curtain behind them. The cursing they had hurled as they left grew quieter and quieter, and all traces of their earlier arrogance had vanished.

The shop fell silent instantly.

Uncle Zhou let out a long sigh of relief, plopped down on the stool behind him, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and grabbed Jiang Lan's hand, shaking it repeatedly: "Thanks to you, Jiang Lan! Thanks to you! If it weren't for you today, my shop would probably not only have been robbed, but the storefront would have been smashed!"

He turned around, took out a small piece of silver from the money box at the counter, and stuffed it into Jiang Lan's hand. It was heavy, weighing a full half tael.

"Take this money!" Uncle Zhou's tone was firm, brooking no refusal. "This money was originally meant to be a reward for your guards. You saved such a huge disaster for me today, this is what you deserve!"

Jiang Lan held the silver coin in her hand, tried to push it back twice but failed, so she accepted it.

Half a tael of silver!

It was enough for him to work at the grain store for more than ten days, enough to buy his mother several tubes of ointment for treating her hands, and enough for him to buy a medicinal bath pack to help with acupressure...

After finishing work in the evening, Jiang Lan didn't go straight home, but instead went to the pharmacy at the end of the street.

He bought a blood-activating and stasis-removing ointment, not for himself, but for his mother, Cheng.

Cheng made a living by weaving fishing nets and mending clothes. Her hands were covered in cuts from the netting, and they were swollen for almost half a year. She couldn't bear to buy proper ointment and just boiled wild herbs she picked from the riverbank to apply to her hands, but it was of no use at all.

The ointment cost twenty coins. Jiang Lan carefully tucked the remaining silver into her pocket and turned to walk home.

Pushing open the door, I saw Mrs. Cheng busy at the stove. The dim firelight illuminated the white hair at her temples, and her back was more hunched than before.

"Mother, reach out your hand." Jiang Lan walked over, pulled her to sit on the stool, took out the ointment from her bosom, unscrewed the cap, and a cool medicinal smell immediately spread out.

Mrs. Cheng paused for a moment, looked at the ointment, and quickly withdrew her hand: "You child, why are you wasting money? My hand is fine, it'll be better in a couple of days..."

"Something's up." Jiang Lan didn't let go, but pulled her hand and gently opened her palm.

Some of the cuts from the hemp rope had scabbed over, while others were still oozing blood. His ten fingers were swollen like bloated radishes. He looked at them, his fingertips pausing for a moment.

He bent down and carefully applied the ointment to the wounds, his movements extremely gentle.

"Where did the money come from?" Cheng asked, her eyes slowly reddening, her voice a little hoarse.

"This is the reward money Uncle Zhou gave me for being a bodyguard." Jiang Lan lowered her head and continued applying the medicine. "Today, some thugs came to the shop and caused trouble. I helped resolve it, and Uncle Zhou gave me this money specifically."

After a long silence, Cheng reached out her other hand and gently patted his head, her voice incredibly soft: "Alan, you've grown up."

Jiang Lan didn't look up, and her hands didn't stop moving.

After applying the medicine, he handed the ointment to Cheng Shi and repeatedly instructed, "Mother, apply it once in the morning and once at night from now on. Don't be stingy with it. I'll buy you more when you run out."

Mrs. Cheng clutched the ointment, nodded, her eyes still red.

Jiang Lan stood up and walked to the open space at the bow of the ship outside the door. Just as she stood on the wooden stake to prepare for her evening boxing practice, a timid voice suddenly came from behind her.

"Jiang...Jiang Lan?"

He turned around and saw Liu Tie standing at the gate of the courtyard, clutching the hem of his clothes tightly in his hand, his face full of embarrassment and awkwardness.

Liu Tie was a fellow student from a poor family at his martial arts school. His family situation was not much better than his. The two did not have a deep relationship. They would just nod and greet each other when they met at the martial arts school.

"What's wrong?" Jiang Lan jumped down from the wooden stake and asked.

Liu Tie stammered for a long time, his face flushed red, his head almost touching his chest, before finally managing to stammer out, "Could you... lend me thirty copper coins?"

Afraid that Jiang Lan would refuse, he quickly added, his voice trembling, "I'm still thirty coins short of my tuition for next month. The martial arts school teacher said that if I delay any longer, they'll expel me. I... I really can't find anyone to borrow from. My father is sick, and all the money in the house has gone to medicine..."

Jiang Lan looked at him.

He knew this feeling all too well. When he first entered the martial arts school, he was in the same boat, struggling to raise enough money for tuition, afraid of being expelled, afraid that his only path to advancement would be cut off.

It wasn't that Liu Tie wasn't trying; it's just that his natural aptitude was a bit lacking, and his family didn't have the money to buy medicinal baths to help him. After practicing for half a year, he hadn't opened up a single acupoint and was still making no progress.

Jiang Lan didn't say anything, but reached into his pocket, took out thirty coins, and handed them over.

Liu Tie suddenly looked up, his eyes instantly reddening. His hands trembled as he took the money, and he could only repeat two words over and over: "Thank you... thank you! I'll definitely pay you back next month when I get paid!"

"No rush." ​​Jiang Lan withdrew her hand and only said one sentence, "Practice your skills well and don't waste this money."

Liu Tie nodded repeatedly, clutching the money tightly, then turned and ran off quickly, his figure disappearing into the alleyway.

Jiang Lan watched his retreating figure, then turned around and stood back on the wooden stake.

The evening breeze, carrying the dampness of the river, blew over, and the boy's figure stood straight as a pine tree in the moonlight.

One punch, two punches, three punches.

Tiger Charge! Tiger Swing! Tiger Pounce!

The force of the punch carried a whooshing sound, and sweat dripped down his chin onto the deck, leaving a small wet patch.

After finishing his set of punches, he stood still, slightly out of breath, when a golden light suddenly flashed in his mind:

【Crushing Mountain Fist (Beginner): 230/300】

【Crushing Mountain Stance Exercise (Minor Success): 43/500】

Jiang Lan looked at the line of text, took a deep breath, and her eyes lit up.

He steadied himself in his horse stance and clenched his fists.

Only by further improving his boxing skills can he secure the livelihood of the grain shop, protect his mother, and truly gain a foothold in this chaotic world.