From a tuberculosis patient to a martial arts master

Another private room.

Zhu Hong put down his teacup, looked away from the lavish banquet, and muttered, "The actors in this play don't quite fit."

Although he wasn't a connoisseur of music or admiring lyrics and melodies, he knew the lyrics should be about luxurious scenes of silk and brocade, pavilions and banquets. But the chanting that reached his ears was filled with a lingering sense of desolation and sorrow, making his heart feel heavy.

"They come without a name, and they leave without a trace."

Life is fleeting, like drifting catkins; life and death both pass in silence.

Zhu Hong shook his head, recognizing someone desperate to survive. He felt sorry for them, but that was all.

story.

Everyone has it.

But not everyone should ask that question.

"The seasonal first course, 'Steamed Fish with Qilin,' has arrived! Serving you your dish, sir!"

At that moment, a clear announcement came from outside the door.

"Enter."

Zhu Hong said calmly.

The servants then carried food boxes and wine jars in single file, not daring to make a sound, and laid out the food and wine one by one.

Roasted goose with Chinese toon firewood, lotus root with golden lotus seeds, and thick soup made with black crane...

最后:

"Fish head facing the wine vessel, accompanied by fine dishes."

Once the main dishes were served, the leader said softly, "Sir, the dishes are all ready. Please enjoy your meal." He then placed the earthenware jar of "Drunken Li Bai" on the center of the table, bowed, closed the door, and quietly left.

"I have a gourd of wine to soothe the weariness of travel."

Zhu Hong glanced at the delicacies and delicacies, then his gaze shifted and settled on the jar of "Drunken Li Bai".

As the old saying goes:

I can live without meat, but I dare not give up wine?

He raised his hand to break the clay seal, and without even looking for a cup or saucer, he picked up the wine jar, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp. "Refreshing!" He casually wiped the wine stains from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, a carefree smile spreading across his face.

"Let us drink and sing, for how short is life?"

It has been a long time... since I've drunk so heartily.

The spicy liquor rushed down my throat, burning my chest and abdomen, as if washing away the fatigue of the past few days with this one sip of strong liquor.

He took a few more sips and put the wine jar down.

"Whoosh..." Zhu Hong picked up his chopsticks and swished them away like a whirlwind.

Roast goose, river perch, and hot pot dishes were served in turn, and the meal was enjoyed to the fullest. There was none of the restraint of a government official. He even murmured to himself, "A leisurely person in this bustling world, let's enjoy the present moment to the fullest."

On the stage, the singing gradually reached its peak.

As the song reached its most tender moment, Bai Xiuying gracefully swayed her water sleeves, her movements elegant and captivating. A chorus of soft praises immediately rose from the audience. The young men had long forgotten the beauties beside them, focusing only on applauding and cheering, paying no heed to the woman before them.

At that moment, laughter and joking voices rose from the neighboring booths:

"how?"

"I told you so, sir? We're kindred spirits, and we're more open about having fun than anyone else."

"Hahaha, people eat and they are lustful."

"No, that's inappropriate. It should be said, 'When drinking with a bosom friend, what does clothing matter?' This gentleman is clearly a discerning person." Someone praised him.

"Life is about enjoying it to the fullest."

"..."

Zhu Hong ignored the drunken young men, poured himself a drink, and ate heartily. When he was full, he let out two burps.

"Young man, how was the meal?"

Suddenly, the wooden door was pushed open, and a familiar voice came from inside.

Leading the group was Li Hang, followed by seven or eight burly men, each with a short stick at their waist, exuding a roguish air, clearly seasoned thugs who had been fighting for years. One of them stood shoulder to shoulder with him, dressed in a dark, tight-fitting outfit. He had broad shoulders and a strong back, with well-defined muscles and bones, and his qi and blood were deep and stagnant, revealing the solid foundation of a martial artist at the Muscle Refining Realm.

Judging from this, there are two martial arts performers in total.

Well prepared.

"Wild boy!"

At that moment, from behind a group of tall men, Ma Pan immediately sprang out like a wild dog with its fur standing on end: "You dared to impersonate a constable? We've found out this time. Let's see what you're up to, trying to escape...?"

The word "escape" had barely landed on the ground.

Ma Pan glanced sideways at Zhu Hong's neatly dressed official uniform, paused for a moment, his face changed drastically, then suddenly flushed red. He pointed at Zhu Hong and laughed wildly, "Hahahaha! Caught red-handed!" The exhilarating feeling of finally releasing all the pent-up anger was written in his twisted and arrogant eyes.

"You swindler, not only do you freeload, but you even dare to sit here swaggering around in this outfit."

He stomped his feet, his face beaming with smug arrogance:

"That's practically suicide!"

Zhu Hong's expression was indifferent. His fingers loosened their grip, and the bamboo chopsticks in his hand landed lightly on the porcelain plate with a "clatter." "Annoying, you beast who never learns from your mistakes." He glanced at her coldly, his tone as icy as a blade.

"Have you already forgotten the lesson from last time?"

When Ma Pan was hit where it hurt, his face instantly turned a deep purplish-red, and the veins on his neck bulged: "You...you dare to insult me?!" Before he could finish speaking, he charged forward like a furious bull, but Li Hang blocked him with his arm like an iron gate, stopping him in place.

"What are you trying to stop me from doing?!" He twisted his neck and glared, his voice like a broken gong:

"Hurry up and bring that brat here!"

"Regarding this matter," Li Hang frowned slightly, a hint of impatience flashing in his eyes, "Manager Ma said that I would make the decision."

Having said that, he ignored the crazed Ma Pan, casually grabbed a pearwood stool from beside him, and without asking any permission, slammed it down opposite Zhu Hong. He then abruptly sat down, slamming his hand on the edge of the table. "You said I could go to the yamen to find you, so I went. But on the yamen's register," he said, his gaze sharp and menacing.

"No such person found. What's your explanation?"

After speaking, he glanced at his official uniform, his expression darkening once more.

Zhu Hong didn't even lift his eyelids, using the tip of his chopsticks to stir the last peanut in the dish until it rolled to the edge.

"What's the explanation?" He suddenly chuckled softly.

"You led a bunch of hooligans to cause a ruckus, and now you dare say there's no such person?"

"Stop with your words." Li Hang tightened his grip, his voice deep and firm: "All government officials have official documents and are registered. I've already inquired extensively these past few days, and you, despite wearing official uniform, have no record." His eyes flashed sharply.

"If it's not a fake, then what is it?"

"Ask everywhere?" Zhu Hong's lips curled into an extremely faint sneer.

"You bunch of vile dogs from the gutter, do you even deserve to utter the words 'examine everywhere'?" He raised his eyes, his gaze piercing Li Hang's eyes, his contempt undisguised: "You go through a few streets and alleys, ask a couple of lowly bums you've fed, and rummage through a few pages of tattered accounts, and you dare to boast that you've traversed the entire government register?"

These words are undeniably detrimental, directly undermining people's moral conscience.

Li Hang stared intently at Zhu Hong, remained silent for a moment, and then said, "I didn't come here to argue with you." He slowly revealed the details he had gathered over the past few days, word by word:

My father, Zhu Shuan, died seven or eight years ago.

He was adopted by his maternal uncle, Zhu Quancai, and soon after, he sold "Zhao's Funeral Shop".

He has always lived under someone else's roof.

"Although..." Li Hang slowed his speech, "I don't know what kind of luck you had to grow these fangs, but none of that matters anymore. What matters is—" His words were tinged with coldness:

"You are neither from a prestigious family nor a government official. Therefore," he leaned closer, almost pressing his face against Zhu Hong's:

"The charity will not be 'soft on you'."

After listening, Zhu Hong showed no fear. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, letting the back support his entire weight. "Are you done?" he asked, as if he had just listened to some trivial chatter. After a long while, he finally raised his eyes. "If you really wanted to take action, you would have done it just now. But you chose the most verbose method."

He suddenly looked up, and asked with a half-smile:

"What are you waiting for?"