“I’m sorry,” Hong Shu shook her head. “I can’t help you. It’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “Well, thank you anyway. I should be going. Business won’t wait.”

  “Take care of yourself! I hope we’ll meet again,” the woman said in farewell.

  Mingzhu worries deeply about that boy’s fate. She didn’t ask me to look for him, but with her kind heart, she’ll keep worrying for a long time, Zhang Ming thought. I need to find him. Preferably alive.

  After circling the entire district, he questioned shopkeepers and petty vendors about local street urchins and where they could be found. Zhang Ming visited the market and spoke with fishermen; some vaguely remembered a boy who had sold river fish. Then he went to all the places where homeless children gathered and tried to learn the boy’s fate from them. But the ragged little beggars scattered at the sight of him, and those he managed to catch offered nothing useful.

  The former Zhang Ming’s memories led him to people who traded in information, but they did not keep track of slum children and could offer no answers, though they still took his money for the question.

  As evening fell, the streets began to empty. There was no one left to ask. After spending nearly the entire day searching without finding any trace of the boy, Zhang Ming decided to return to the inn.

  I lived here for quite a while, but I never searched for anyone before. I won’t find him on my own. Besides, there are more important matters, he reflected on the way back. I need helpers who know the city well. The bandits won’t do, they’re outsiders and draw too much attention… Hm.

  When he returned, the bandits were already fast asleep. Only two stood watch, hidden in the building’s shadow. At Zhang Ming’s appearance, they stepped forward, awaiting orders, but he dismissed them with a wave and headed to the innkeeper’s room, knocking firmly on the door.

  After a moment, a disheveled, somewhat frightened old man emerged.

  “What do you require, sir?” he asked with a bow.

  “Bring supper,” Zhang Ming ordered briefly. Then he returned to the common hall and took the largest table.

  “While you wait, please have some tea, sir!” the half-blind old man shuffled out from the kitchen some time later, carrying a tray.

  Because of his age, his hands trembled. Cups and teapot rattled sharply on the tray, threatening to fall at any moment. With mild curiosity, Zhang Ming watched the innkeeper’s slow approach, wondering whether he would make it without dropping anything.

  The old man managed. Setting the tray down, he began pouring tea with shaking hands. To Zhang Ming’s surprise, he did not spill a single drop.

  “The best tea in the district,” the old man smiled, then shuffled back toward the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

  Guests rarely came anymore. The inn had long since fallen into decline, crumbling year after year, as if wishing to grow old alongside its owner and disappear with him one day. The arrival of the bandits had breathed life into both of them. It seemed as though they had returned to the days before the district became slums, when noisy lodgers filled the rooms and lively chatter could be heard from afar. Whoever these new guests were did not matter, the old man was sincerely glad for their presence.

  “Please eat, sir! Everything prepared at the highest standard!” the old man boasted, setting down trembling plates. “My cooking is known throughout Baohe.”

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  “I don’t doubt it,” Zhang Ming nodded, awkwardly working his chopsticks and stuffing his mouth with food. “Quite good, actually. Sit. Keep me company.”

  “Oh no, sir! How could I?”

  “It’s fine. Sit. I have something to ask you.”

  “Mm,” the old man agreed.

  “You know this district well? Tell me, which gang runs things here now?”

  “Oh! That’s an easy question. The Mad Saber Gang,” the elderly owner sighed. “Because of people like them, this district turned into slums. All the decent folk left. Others are afraid to even come here. Tsk.”

  “You know where to find them?” Zhang Ming continued eating, clearly enjoying the meal.

  “Hm. Of course I know. Any coin that ever found its way into my pocket went straight to them… They’re bad people. Best to stay far away.”

  “I certainly hope they are,” Zhang Ming said quietly, then added aloud, “You cook excellently, old man. I didn’t expect that. We’ll be staying here a while.”

  “Thank you, sir! I’m honored to serve!”

  “Ahem. Wake the boys!” Zhang Ming called to the sentries. “We have business.”

  Meanwhile, in their lair, the leader of the Mad Saber Gang, Bigmouth Wang, lounged in his chair, looking down at the people kneeling before him. A husband and wife, weeping, knocked their foreheads against the floor and begged for mercy while he grinned.

  Moments like these were what he lived for. The sense of power intoxicated him more than wine. He enjoyed controlling the lives of others, deciding who lived, who died, taking whatever he desired. Built like a bear, huge with a massive belly, no one in this part of the slums dared cross him.

  “If you can’t pay in silver… I hear you have a daughter,” Bigmouth Wang said with a saccharine smile.

  “She’s only eleven! Please, spare her!”

  “Silence! You dare argue with me?” he barked, then turned to the thin man beside him. “What’s that noise outside? Brother Hezi, go check.”

  The assistant strode out of the hall, closing the door behind him. Outside came his curses and threats, then the sounds shifted to blows and cries of pain. The gang leader nodded approvingly, Hezi always handled discipline well, though he sometimes went too far with his cruelty.

  Bigmouth Wang turned his gaze back to the couple on the floor.

  “Now then. Have you decided? Will you send your…”

  Suddenly, the door burst from its hinges with a crash. When the dust settled, a man stepped into the hall at an unhurried pace, dragging loyal Hezi across the floor with one hand as if he were a sack of manure.

  Halfway to Bigmouth Wang’s chair, the newcomer stopped and tossed the bloodied body forward as though it weighed nothing. From beneath long, disheveled hair, a predator’s gaze locked onto the gang leader.

  “Welcome your guests,” the stranger bared his teeth in a grin.

  “W-who are you?” Bigmouth Wang shouted, reaching for his massive saber.

  “Your new master.”

  “What?” the leader roared savagely. “Are you insane? How dare you!” Yet a cold bead of sweat slid down his temple. “I am a warrior of the First Stage of Tempering…”

  He did not finish. The stranger was suddenly less than a meter away, fist already descending.

  A dull thud echoed through the hall. In the next instant, the leader’s body slammed into the wall behind the throne, then lurched forward and crashed heavily onto the floor, shaking the furniture. Bigmouth Wang did not make another sound. A small pool of blood spread from his shattered mouth.

  The uninvited guest strolled toward the luxurious chair adorned with furs and dropped into it as though he had always owned it.

  “Why is the fatso so weak?” he snorted. “Instead of stuffing his face like a pig, he should’ve done a few push-ups. How did he even break through to the First Stage?”

  The husband and wife still kneeling on the floor trembled in terror. The gang leader had frightened them to the core, yet an even more dreadful figure had appeared and sent Bigmouth Wang’s massive body flying with a single blow. For such a man, killing two random people would be no harder than crushing a fly.

  The stranger’s gaze lowered to the unfortunate pair.

  “Who are you?”

  “Ah…” The woman fainted on the spot.

  “I-I-I…” the man stammered.

  “Mm. Sit over there for now.” The frightening man waved a hand dismissively and seemed to lose interest in them.

  Without rising from his knees, the man dragged his wife to the wall and tried to make himself invisible.

  Soon, sun-darkened men with sturdy builds entered the hall, like barbarians descending from the mountains. At a command, they began hauling in the bodies of the bandits and piling them before the chair. From time to time, their blood-smeared faces turned toward the two accidental witnesses.

  With trembling hands, the man wrapped his arms around his wife and prayed. Never in his life had he called upon the gods so fervently.

  “Brother Zhang! We’ve tied them all up!” Lu Piao reported with a broad grin.

  “Are they all alive?”

  “Seems so… It wasn’t easy not to kill anyone.”

  “Excellent. Wake them. That boar first.”