Chapter Four: Testing the Waters

Benevolence unites guests from all directions, and righteousness gathers heroes from the four corners of the world.

Inside the council chamber of the Changfeng Escort Agency, Chief Manager He Lishan sat at the head of the room, his face dark and sullen. He was in his forties, with thick brows, large eyes, broad shoulders, and a sturdy frame. His long, thick braid, jet-black and polished with oil, hung down his back. As he rested his hands on his knees, he held the posture of a crouching tiger, possessing an inherent authority that commanded respect without a word.

Several young escorts stood opposite him, heads lowered in shame, trembling as they stood with their hands at their sides.

After a moment of brooding, He Lishan asked, "Those two thieves... did they really not give any warning?"

"No, sir." The speaker was Li Qun, the leader of that particular escort squad. Since the incident occurred at the Wang residence, he bore the primary responsibility.

"Hiss! This is a deliberate attempt to break the rules and slap the face of my Changfeng Escort Agency!" He Lishan knit his brows, racking his brain to recall who might have been harboring a grudge over the past few years.

In the underworld, a "warning" refers to the practice of "tossing a stone to test the path." As the saying goes, those who walk the rivers and lakes are one family. Whether they belong to reputable schools or deviant sects, if one traces their lineage back eighteen generations, they all share the same roots. Therefore, when a thief happens upon a grand mansion and intends to seek a fortune, etiquette dictates they must toss a stone into the courtyard to "ask the way."

If the stone lands with a clatter and there are guards on duty, they must step out and reply: "Brother, no need to stir the wind; there is a guest in the kiln. You are welcome to borrow the light. We shall meet again under the heavens; if you are in trouble, speak up, if not, let us be friends."

Once this exchange is made, most thieves will depart. If there is no response from within, the doors are considered wide open, and the visitor is free to take what he can. After all, everyone is just trying to earn a living granted by the ancestors; there are plenty of places across the land to find a meal. Cutting off a man's livelihood is like killing his parents. If a person is truly desperate, the guards might even offer some help. Everyone in the business hits a rough patch eventually, so it is best to make things convenient for one another.

However, the two thieves from last night had violated this code. While they claimed to be robbing the Wang residence, it was clearly an affront to the Changfeng Escort Agency.

He Lishan glanced at the red-faced man standing next to Li Qun. "Erqiang, what happened with you?"

Erqiang shuddered and quickly replied, "Master, I had already caught the kid, but for some reason, I suddenly felt a numbness in the back of my neck and passed out. Just as I was coming to, that punk kicked me."

*It must have been a concealed weapon,* He Lishan thought. *If he can use hidden projectiles, he is likely no amateur.*

"Can you remember what he looked like?"

Erqiang hesitated. "It was hard to see clearly, but he was just a half-grown lad, maybe thirteen or fourteen, about this tall."

"A child?" He Lishan raised his brows and let out a cold snort. "Useless!"

Li Qun quickly stepped forward. "Master, Erqiang and the others lack experience. Last night's failure is all my fault!"

"If it isn't your fault, is it mine?" He Lishan stood up. "I’ve told you time and again that the city is filled with all sorts of people lately. Stay alert! Every single day, you do nothing but disgrace me!"

Li Qun had nothing to say and withered in silence. The Changfeng Escort Agency in Liaoyang had a loud reputation and formidable skills; thieves and bandits from far and wide usually gave them a measure of respect. Over time, these younger members had inevitably grown complacent. Li Qun possessed genuine martial skills, but he had never actually "hit the road" to guard a shipment, so he could not be considered a true veteran of the rivers and lakes.

This was hardly his fault. In these chaotic times, bandits were proliferating, which should have meant booming business for escort agencies. But ever since the foreigners introduced trains, steamships, and firearms, the escort business had become increasingly difficult. Many young escorts, despite their skills, had no opportunity to escort shipments and were forced to settle for house-guarding jobs. It was hard to imagine what the industry would look like in a few years.

"How much did the client lose?" He Lishan asked.

"Not much, actually. Just two jade thumb rings."

"What kind of nonsense is that! You are the guards on the pole; your job is to protect the house! Don't tell me about two rings—even if you lost a chamber pot, it would still be a slap in our faces!"

Having finished his reprimand, He Lishan walked toward the door.

"Master, where are you going?" the men asked.

"To find Ninth Master Zhang and clear the air."

"We'll go with you!"

"This isn't a brawl! Why are you following me? Do you want to embarrass me even more?"

He Lishan strode out a few steps, then suddenly stopped and turned back to warn them: "Don't let the Old Master know about this!"

Li Qun looked distressed. "Master, how can we hide it? It's already spread all over the city."

"Don't ask me! Think of a way yourselves!"

...

Ninth Master Zhang lived off the "Rong family's rice"—a term for the underworld. In the lands beyond the Great Wall, it was rare to call someone "Master" without cause, as it could easily be mistaken for an insult. The name "Ninth Master Zhang" caught on because his real name was Zhang Jiuye, and through repeated mispronunciation, it evolved into Ninth Master Zhang. He was quite fond of the title, so people were happy to indulge him.

Ninth Master Zhang was in his thirties, with sparse eyebrows and a pair of small, date-pit-shaped eyes. His ten fingers were long and slender. He was always smiling, no matter where he went, careful not to offend anyone. It was said that when he looked at people, he started with their shoes; with just one glance from bottom to top, he knew exactly which pocket their wallet was in. As he brushed past, he would swipe it without a soul noticing, a skill that commanded universal respect in the underworld.

However, he had a strange ailment: he suffered from hair loss. While others lost the hair on their heads, he lost hair from all over his body. Yet, he insisted on growing a mustache. He had been trying for over a decade, but it remained wispy and sparse, not even enough to twist between his fingers. If a strong wind blew and he accidentally lost three or five strands while out, he would return home to sigh, groan, and even secretly weep.

Ninth Master Zhang never engaged in "robbing the rich to help the poor," but he was always generous and righteous toward his peers. He was humorous and lacked airs, and as long as no one made fun of his mustache, everything was fine. Because of this, despite his appearance, he was the leader of everyone who lived off the underworld in Liaoyang.

All the thieves in the city, big or small, had to leave their stolen goods with him for a few days until the heat died down before they could sell them off. Ninth Master took a twenty or thirty percent commission as a rule. If the situation was too tense or the victim was too powerful, he would weigh the risks for a couple of days and perhaps even send someone to quietly return the stolen items.

Even thieves from out of town had to pay their respects to the Ninth Master upon arriving in Liaoyang. Only if he nodded his approval could they conduct their business; if he did not, even a dragon would have to coil up and behave. His word carried more weight than the local constables. Of course, if a visitor was short on cash and he refused to let them work, then as the local leader, he would cover their food, lodging, and travel expenses. That, too, was the rule!

Because of his profession, Ninth Master Zhang loved to be where the action was. Every afternoon, he could be found at the crossroads, either in a teahouse or a restaurant. Today was different; he arrived at the teahouse early, sitting near the entrance and craning his neck to look outside. As soon as he saw He Lishan approaching, he stood up to greet him.

"Ah, Brother Shan, I guessed you'd come looking for me. I've been waiting for a long time."

He Lishan cupped his hands in greeting. "Ninth Master, *He Wu*!" (A traditional greeting among the brotherhood.)

"He Wu, He Wu!"

He Lishan turned his head. "Manager Tang, open a private room. My brother and I have some things to discuss."

"Right away! Master He, please, go on up!"

Ninth Master Zhang and He Lishan exchanged polite gestures before walking side-by-side up to the second-floor private room. Once they were seated and the waiter had served the tea and departed, Ninth Master Zhang spoke before He Lishan could open his mouth.

"Brother Shan, let me put this on the table first: regarding what happened last night, I truly have no idea what's going on!"