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

Liu Yaren showed Jiang Lan three houses.

The first place was in the north of the city. The alley was so narrow that only one person could pass at a time, and the courtyard was tiny, so small that you couldn't even turn around to hang clothes to dry. Jiang Lan stretched out her arms in the courtyard and almost bumped into the walls on both sides.

Liu Yaren, observing his expression, led him away before he could even speak.

The second place was next to the East Market. It was in a good location, with the main street right outside, but it was too noisy. The blacksmith shop was right next door, and it was noisy from morning till night, the clanging and banging sound like someone was hitting their head with a hammer.

Jiang Lan stood there for a while, her ears ringing, and then she shook her head.

"Master Jiang, you'll definitely be satisfied with this third place." Liu the broker kept Jiang Lan in suspense, leading him through Changping Street and into an alley.

The alley was narrow but clean, with no puddles or mud on the flagstone pavement. The courtyard walls on both sides were whitewashed, and a few locust tree branches peeked out from the tops. At the end of the alley, Liu Yaren stopped and pointed to the black lacquered wooden door in front of him.

"Right here."

Jiang Lan glanced at it. The door was made of old camphor wood, thick and sturdy, and although the paint was old, it wasn't cracked. There was a single, clean bluestone step in front of the door. He reached out and pushed the door, but it didn't budge.

"This door is sturdy," he said.

"Of course!" Liu Yaren took out his key, unlocked the door, pushed it open, and stepped aside to let Jiang Lan go in first. "Please come in and take a look."

The front yard is pleasant to behold from the moment you enter. The ground is paved with smooth, even blue bricks, with a few specks of moss growing in the cracks—not an eyesore, but rather giving the yard a sense of history and human presence. An old locust tree stands against the east wall, its canopy shading half the yard, its trunk so thick that one person couldn't encircle it. To the west is a stone well, its rim polished to a shine, with a windlass mounted on it.

Jiang Lan walked to the well and looked down. The water shimmered, making it impossible to see how deep it was, but she could feel a chill rising from the wellhead.

"The well water is crystal clear. The previous owner was a silk merchant who lived there for five years, and they took good care of it," Liu the broker said, drawing a small bucket of water from the well and pouring it into the stone trough beside him. "Look, it's so clear, like a mountain spring. From now on, you and the old lady won't have to go out to fetch water when you need it at home."

Jiang Lan nodded. He had lived in Reed Bay for twenty years, and his biggest headache was fetching water. The wharf was not close to the boat, and the road was difficult to walk on. On rainy days, his feet were covered in mud, and in winter, his hands would crack from the cold.

Now that there's a well in the yard, life is completely different.

The courtyard has a square layout, with three main rooms facing south, providing good natural light; in winter, sunlight can stream into half the room. There are two rooms in the east wing and two in the west wing, with brick walls and tiled roofs, ensuring it's neither leaky nor damp. The kitchen is in the backyard; it's not large, but the stove and chimney are already there, and firewood is piled in the corner, left by the previous owner. The outhouse is next to the kitchen, hidden behind a low wall, making it quite respectable.

Jiang Lan looked around twice, inside and out. She went into each room, stood in front of it, pushed open the windows, and looked at the beams. The more she looked, the more satisfied she became.

The courtyard was even better than he had imagined.

"Who are your neighbors?" Jiang Lan asked. This was something he cared about. Reed Bay was chaotic because all sorts of people came from all walks of life. One day the Black Tiger Gang was collecting protection money, the next the Canal Gang was seizing the docks. He didn't want to live that kind of life after moving to a new place.

Liu Yaren answered readily: "Our neighbor to the east is Constable Mo, a veteran constable who has been working in the yamen for twenty years. Both of his sons work in the county yamen. Our neighbor to the west is Manager He of the Yuelai Inn, a respectable businessman who is also very amiable. They are all respectable families, unlike those shady characters."

The head constable and the innkeeper are both respectable people; it's easy to have them as neighbors.

"How much are you asking?" he asked.

Liu the broker held up two fingers, thought for a moment, then pulled one back, making a "one" and a "two": "One hundred and twenty taels."

Jiang Lan frowned.

"Could you make it less?" he asked.

Liu, the broker, thought for a moment with a bitter face: "I'll try to negotiate with the master. One hundred and fifteen taels is the most I can offer. I won't sell it for any less. Master Jiang, look at this place. Just across the bridge is the inner city. This courtyard may not be big, but it has a main house, side rooms, kitchen, and outhouse. There's even a well and trees. Where else can you find that? If the master wasn't in a hurry for money, this amount wouldn't be possible."

Jiang Lan didn't reply. He was calculating in his mind: 115 taels of silver, at least half of that would be the down payment. Besides, after moving, he would need to buy things, rice, flour, oil, salt, pots and pans, all of which would cost money.

But he really wanted this yard.

"Can we postpone the delivery?" he asked.

Liu the broker's eyes lit up. He'd been in this business for twenty years; what hadn't he seen? A newly appointed scholar, with a bright future ahead of him, was naturally short of money. As long as the deal went through, a delayed settlement wasn't a big deal.

"Anyone else certainly won't do, but you, Master Jiang—" he lowered his voice, "you're a newly appointed scholar this year, with a bright future ahead of you. I'll mediate with the master's family. Here's the deal: you pay sixty taels upfront, and once the contract is signed, you can move in. The remaining fifty-five taels can be paid back within six months, sixty taels including interest. It's all in black and white, and I'll vouch for it. What do you say?"

Sixty taels.

Jiang Lan counted the numbers in her mind again; that was enough.

"When do we sign the contract?" Jiang Lan didn't hesitate any longer. He moved from the dilapidated boat in Reed Bay into this alley; stepping across this one leg would open up a whole new world.

"I'll draft the contract first thing tomorrow morning and deliver it to your residence," Liu the broker said, his eyes crinkling into slits with a smile. This deal was a sure thing; his commission would be substantial, enough for him to drink for half a month.

"Reed Bay, Jiang Family Thatched Cottage," Jiang Lan left the address.

Liu Yaren paused for a moment, then nodded without saying anything. For someone in this line of work, keeping their mouth shut is the first rule.

As expected, Liu Yaren arrived the following afternoon.

He was dressed in a clean gray cloth robe, holding a contract in his hands, followed by a servant carrying a food box. The food box contained two plates of pastries and a pot of wine, wrapped in red paper, looking festive.

Jiang Lan read the contract word for word and had no objections.

He took out sixty taels of silver from his pocket and handed it over in person.

After receiving the money, Liu, the broker, pressed his fingerprint on the contract, then had Jiang Lan press his fingerprint as well. He then respectfully handed over one of the copies, saying, "Master Jiang, please keep this safe. From today onwards, this courtyard is yours."

He opened the food box, revealing snacks and wine: "A small gift, nothing special. Congratulations Mr. Jiang on your housewarming."

Jiang Lan accepted it without hesitation.

After Liu the broker left, Cheng Erniang came out of the kitchen, still clutching a rag in her hand. She looked at the contract on the table, wiped it on her apron, walked over, picked it up, and examined it against the light from the window for a long time.

She doesn't know many characters, but she recognizes the name "Jiang Lan".

"Is it really ours?" she asked.

"It really is ours now," Jiang Lan said.

Cheng Erniang didn't say anything more. She carefully placed the contract on the table, turned around and went into the thatched hut to start packing.

The stove was built when Jiang Lan's father was still alive. The water in the vat had to be fetched from the dock. The patches on the curtain were sewn by her stitch by stitch. It wasn't that she couldn't bear to part with the dilapidated house, but that she couldn't bear to part with the twenty years she had lived there.

On the morning of the move, Cheng Erniang stood on the dock and looked back at the boat.

She hoisted the bundle onto her shoulder and walked away without looking back.

The key to the new courtyard was in Jiang Lan's hand; it was bronze and heavy.

When Cheng Erniang entered the new courtyard, she stood at the door for a while.

She looked around, touched the bark of the locust tree a few times, then walked to the well and peered into the water. Turning back to Jiang Lan, she said, "This well water is so clear."

"We won't have to fetch water anymore," Jiang Lan said.

Cheng Erniang nodded and turned to go into the kitchen. She opened the stove and looked inside, then rummaged through the cupboard and found a few rough bowls and an iron pot left by the previous owner. Although old, they were still usable. She rolled up her sleeves, filled a bucket with water, and began to wash the pot and dishes.

Jiang Lan stood in the center of the courtyard, spread her arms, and stretched.

Above him were the branches and leaves of a locust tree, and beneath his feet were smooth blue bricks. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, falling in dappled patterns on his shoulders.

He had lived on a dilapidated boat in Reed Bay for almost twenty years, and today he finally has his own home.

The academic degree he earned, the down payment of sixty taels of silver, and the debt he had to pay off within six months—all of these were earned by himself.

He turned and went into the main room, took the roll of parchment out of his pocket, and placed it on the table.

A diagram illustrating the power of the Bengshanquan (Crushing Mountain Fist).

He spread it out and weighed it down in one corner with the jar of wine to prevent it from curling up again.

In the evening, someone knocked on the courtyard gate.

Jiang Lan opened the door, and standing there was a burly middle-aged man. He wore a gray short-sleeved shirt, with a long knife at his waist, and two strong young men behind him. The man's temples were bulging, and the muscles in his arms stretched his sleeves taut; he was clearly a trained fighter.

"May I ask if you are Brother Jiang Lan?" The man clasped his hands in a fist salute, his face beaming.

"My name is Song Hu. I recently moved here and am now in charge of the fish market here." His voice was loud but not harsh, and his tone was just right. "I heard that Brother Jiang passed the imperial examination with top honors, so I came to congratulate you. This is just a small token of my appreciation."

He waved his hand, and a young man behind him handed him a bulging red purse.

Jiang Lan took it and weighed it in her hand. It weighed about five ounces, not light.

He neither opened it nor declined, but simply tucked it into his sleeve: "Brother Song, you're too kind. Please come in and sit down."

"No, no, I won't sit down." Song Hu waved his hand, his smile fading and replaced by a worried expression. "To my shame, I just arrived in your area yesterday and heard that the Black Tiger Gang in Reed Bay was wiped out. Brother Jiang, you're a local, do you know the details?"

"I'm not sure. I just heard it from someone else." Jiang Lan's expression remained unchanged.

Song Hu sighed, "Alas, the world is not peaceful. Brother Jiang is a martial arts scholar, so you must be more careful in the future."

His gaze lingered on Jiang Lan's face for a moment, as if unintentionally, or as if he were observing something.

"Thank you for the reminder, Brother Song."

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Song Hu left with the two young men.

Jiang Lan stood at the door, watching the three figures disappear into the alley.

He had never heard of the name Song Hu.

But the word "tiger" reminded him of something else—before, Huo Yuanlong had Song Kui pass on a message: "On the night the Black Tiger Gang was wiped out, a minor leader named Black Tiger escaped in the chaos and has not been caught to this day."

Song Hu, Black Tiger.

The names are only one character different, but the timing matches up.

A stranger arrived in Reed Bay and took over the fish farm.

What is he doing here? Hiding from enemies? Or does he have some other motive?

Jiang Lan took the purse out of her sleeve and placed it on the table, next to the roll of kraft paper.

Go see Huo Yuanlong tomorrow. Bring these five taels of silver with you and let Huo Yuanlong see if he recognizes this "Song Hu".