Chapter Seven: The Dark Azure Disciple

Jiang Xiaodao found himself out of options again.

Just yesterday, he had spent all forty wen he had, every single one gone.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to be frugal; it was simply that he never had much money to begin with. Besides, he had been starving for so long that once he started eating, he couldn’t stop himself.

He had hoped that Big Gap-Tooth would give him some money again, but when he took out the foreigner’s head from the kang’s edge this morning and pried open its mouth, he found not a single coin inside.

Instead, the head was tucked under the kang’s edge, smoke-blackened and charred, so much so that it was no longer frightening but rather somewhat comical.

Angrily, Jiang Xiaodao slapped the head and then put it back in place.

Rumors had circulated at the morning market that someone in the Wang family had died, yet throughout the day, there was no sign of official investigation or any stirrings from the foreign devils.

Jiang Xiaodao was naturally puzzled.

The disappearance of Big Gap-Tooth was also a blessing in disguise; it meant that others were unlikely to suspect this orphan of the burglary at the Wang residence.

Yet, the question of where his next meal would come from remained a pressing problem.

“If only I could have two bowls of bean curd like yesterday,” he sighed.

As the old saying goes, it’s hard to learn good habits, but easy to fall into bad ones.

Just after noon, when his stomach growled, Jiang Xiaodao’s thieving impulse flared up again, making him restless and uneasy.

Given his skills, the fact he wasn’t caught at the Wang residence last time was pure luck, a blessing from heaven letting him off the hook. So why did he still dare to entertain crooked thoughts?

The answer lay in his background.

Since losing his parents, Jiang Xiaodao had been living a aimless, desperate existence, where eating, sleeping, and starving were the sum total of his life.

With only his older brother around for support, after so long, he felt empty inside, without purpose, and needed some form of excitement to feel truly alive.

Believe it or not, this is human nature.

However, that night at the Wang estate, Jiang Xiaodao realized that while he might never be a master burglar who could scale walls and leap through windows, he might still manage petty theft.

At the markets of Liaoyang City, surrounded by crowds watching street performers, he thought he could blend in and slip a purse from a distracted onlooker.

But hunger for too long tends to breed illusions.

At the crossroads, he glanced around and saw a storyteller’s stall outside a teahouse, naturally drawing a crowd.

The storyteller was recounting the episode of “Instructor Lin at the Mountain God Temple in the Snowstorm.” Among the listeners stood a stout man in a deerskin jacket.

This man, appearing about fifty years old with a stocky build and sturdy arms, had a graying braid. He stood there foolishly, hands tucked into his sleeves, smiling absentmindedly.

A deep green coin pouch hung from his black silk waistband.

Judging by his expression, he was completely captivated by the story.

Step by step, Jiang Xiaodao edged closer, tiptoeing as if engrossed in the tale, while stealthily reaching to steal the purse.

Whether it was the boy’s exceptional skill or the man’s genuine foolishness, it didn’t take long before Jiang Xiaodao succeeded.

The purse landed heavily in his palm.

His heart pounded wildly; daring not to glance around, he hurriedly stuffed the pouch into his chest and turned to leave.

Just as he reached the crossroads, a young man in his twenties suddenly appeared from the side.

The youth had a handsome face but bore a natural laziness, with drooping eyes that looked perpetually half-asleep.

Without a word, he stepped in front of Jiang Xiaodao and lazily extended his hand.

“Give it here.”

“Huh?” Jiang Xiaodao stammered, “Give... give what?”

“The purse!” The youth yawned. “Don’t be shameless! Hand it over, now!”

Jiang Xiaodao swallowed hard. “What? You know him?”

“None of your business! Hurry up and give it here, no dilly-dallying!”

Jiang Xiaodao felt frustrated, wondering how his luck had turned so sour.

He was tricked trying to steal from the Wang estate, and now he was being intercepted in the street?

He thought it was just bad luck, but in truth, the youth had been watching him closely all along.

As Jiang Xiaodao despondently debated whether to hand over the purse, a commotion suddenly arose behind him.

People turned to see several well-dressed martial artists approaching.

At their head was Li Qun from the Changfeng Escort Agency.

The escort members parted the crowd, causing the storyteller to object.

“Gentlemen, the martial artists have business in the northern market. What’s the meaning of disrupting my trade?”

Though the Changfeng Escort Agency was large, Li Qun was polite.

“Mr. Yan, we apologize. There’s a reason for this. If you suffer any loss today, our agency will compensate you.”

With that, Li Qun turned and approached the man in the deerskin jacket, clasping his fists respectfully.

“May I ask, are you Jiang Chenghai, Elder Jiang?”

The crowd turned to look, seeing the man still tucked in his sleeves, nodding cheerfully with a hint of foolishness.

“Yes, yes, I am Jiang Chenghai.”

Li Qun sized him up, finding him to look like a simple farmer no matter how he looked at him. He couldn’t fathom why his master held the man in such regard.

“I am Li Qun, and He Xinpei of Changfeng Escort Agency invites you to come with us.”

Just then, a bald man with half a face emerged from the teahouse.

He strode over to Jiang Chenghai and shouted fiercely at Li Qun and the others, “What do you want?”

“Nothing. My master just wants to invite you to visit us,” Li Qun replied.

The crowd whispered among themselves, eager for the unfolding drama.

Meanwhile, at the crossroads, several more onlookers stood up, stirred by Li Qun’s arrival, though they kept their distance as mere spectators.

Jiang Xiaodao glanced over and suddenly recognized the large red-faced man standing beside Li Qun—it was the same guard who had blocked him in the dog’s hole a few nights before!

Fear surged through him. Looking up at the youth in front of him, he noticed the young man was also peering, and seizing the moment, Jiang Xiaodao bolted.

That youth was none other than Gong Bo’nan, the seventh brother of the “Old Owl” Jiang Chenghai.

Caught off guard, Jiang Xiaodao managed to sprint over ten meters before Gong Bo’nan gave chase, unable to close the distance but relentless.

The southern market was crowded, but Jiang Xiaodao, small and nimble like an eel, darted in all directions, slipping into a narrow alley at a fork in the road.

Gong Bo’nan pursued, never losing ground but unable to catch up.

Seeing the thief pulling further away, he suddenly stopped, bent down, and picked up a stone about the size of a mahjong tile.

Weighing it in his palm, he flicked his wrist, sending the stone flying like a bullet from a blunderbuss.

“Whoosh—smack!”

“Ouch!”

The stone struck the hollow behind Jiang Xiaodao’s right knee.

His calf cramped instantly, and he stumbled forward two steps before collapsing with a thud.

Gong Bo’nan strolled over lazily, crouched down, and wore a look of disdain.

“With skills like that, you still try to steal? Go find an honest job before someone beats you to death!”

Who was Jiang Xiaodao?

A meek donkey—you couldn’t rile him up!

“Don’t look down on people!” he spat. “Do you know who broke into the Wang estate that night, the one the Changfeng Escort’s dozen men couldn’t catch?”

“Was it you?”

“Yes, it was me!”

“That’s some skill, I’ll admit.”

Jiang Xiaodao immediately puffed up his chest.

“Of course!”

Gong Bo’nan grinned. “Then do you know who knocked down that big red-faced guy that night?”