Chapter 16: Dignity

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A man’s knees are worth gold.

This kneel, I am telling Uncle Yong that I am staking my life and dignity.

Yet, faced with my kneel, Uncle Yong shows no emotional ripple.

He merely asks, “Acheng, are your knees really that weak?”

I shook my head and replied, “No. In this lifetime, apart from kneeling for my family, I have only knelt once before—on the playground, on the street—begging someone who could control my fate to show mercy, not for myself, but for my father who toils endlessly in the fields just to give me a chance to escape. That kneel cost me my dignity. This time, kneeling to you, I intend to reclaim the dignity I lost.”

“The Shendiao Sect teaches you the ways of the lower echelons of the martial world. Master that book thoroughly, and you won’t lack money while roaming the world. Take the Qian Sect, for example. A friend once told me: ‘When the Qian Sect emerges, the world changes; when the Heavenly Scheme unfolds, heaven and earth transform; when the Earth Scheme is skillfully used, one becomes the wealthiest in the region.’ Why would you need to beg an old man like me?” Uncle Yong said.

“I can’t pull off the tricks of the lower eight generals; my conscience won’t allow it. I have no chance with the schemes of the upper eight generals. I see myself as a toad at the bottom of a well, and you are the noble benefactor who can lift me out. Uncle Yong, I don’t speak sweet words—my father always said I’m inarticulate—but here’s one thing: if you’re willing to lend a hand, I’ll remember your kindness forever. If you’re not, don’t look down on me just because of this kneel. I, Zhang Zhicheng, will rise above, it’s just a matter of time.”

“Quite the determination to rise one day. The martial arts world has eight hundred tricks, the Shendiao Sect produces immortals. Those chosen by the Shendiao Sect are indeed different,” Uncle Yong said.

After speaking, his brow furrowed slightly as his fingers tapped lightly on the table.

He kept murmuring two words: Shendiao Sect, Liu Qingshan.

After nearly three minutes of silent contemplation, he beckoned me over.

I stepped forward on my knees.

He reached out, patted my head, then asked, “Where do you work?”

“At the Awang Restaurant, as a security guard,” I answered.

“Oh, that place,” Uncle Yong murmured thoughtfully. After a pause, he said, “I know that place. Acheng, do you know why I tested you today?”

I shook my head, “No.”

“When I was young, I was just like you, unwilling to accept my lot, hoping to carve out a path with my own fists. Later, I joined the Hong Sect and took up the Double-Flower Red Rod. It’s called the Double-Flower Red Rod, but actually, it’s just a golden enforcer—a dog for others. It’s not shameful for a man to be a dog, nor to be a dog for a benefactor. The only fear is never even having the chance to be a dog. I spent my first half in the martial world, doing many evil deeds to rise. You see me now looking polished, but my enemies are everywhere, and many bear blood debts. I fear you might be one of my enemies coming to get close, with impure motives.”

“I’m not doubting you, just telling you I’m not suited to help you now. First, your position is too low; I have no way to start. Second, branding you with my mark may not be good for you. If my enemies target you, it’s beyond your capacity. For now, work hard at Awang Restaurant; getting out of Awang Restaurant itself is a skill.”

I was puzzled.

Getting out of Awang Restaurant?

I’m a security guard now.

At most, what can I become?

Head of security?

Shift supervisor?

But Caige got his manager position by betraying his sister.

What leverage do I have?

Uncle Yong ignored me, waving his hand, “Work hard. You can go now. This old man is tired—age slows me down; I can’t match your youthful energy.”

I nodded and left the room.

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Outside, I took a deep breath.

The first step.

I had finally stepped out.

Even if it was by kneeling and begging.

Once again, I thought of my father who had handed me a pack of cigarettes before leaving.

A father’s respect, passed through smoke.

It meant I was now an adult; my path was my own to walk.

I closed my eyes and spoke quietly to him, thousands of miles away, “Dad, wait for me.”

Opening my eyes, I took another breath and headed toward the house across the street.

At the corner, the girl named Xiaowen hadn’t closed the door. I glanced inside; her rented room was a notch above Chen Jianjun’s—a tidy and clean space. Not surprising—girls’ rooms are always cozier than men’s.

At that moment, she had taken off her work clothes and changed into sky-blue pajamas. The shorts were short, revealing a pair of long, slender legs that made my head spin.

As I looked, she looked up and met my gaze.

“Come in and sit for a bit?” she smiled.

“Is it convenient?” I asked.

“Afraid of getting hit again?” she inquired.

“Do you think I’m afraid?” I said.

Without hesitation, I walked in and plopped down on the sofa, unabashedly surveying her room.

A bed, a sofa, a simple cabinet.

A dressing table with few cosmetics, more like a desk cluttered with books. I glanced at them—varied subjects: advanced mathematics, economics, psychology, even some books on fortune-telling and history.

I couldn’t help but remember Chen Jianjun’s secret crush on her.

His chances seemed slim.

Both loved reading, but the way they read was different.

Finally, my eyes settled on the pillow.

A pair of black intimate garments, clearly just taken off.

I wondered if, held beneath the nose, they might carry her scent.

Perhaps I was staring at those two items too long because suddenly, a fierce murderous intent struck me.

The next moment, a cushion smashed toward my head. I ducked, holding my head, and when I looked up, the black garments were hidden beneath the pillow.

“Cheap,” I muttered.

“What do you mean by fiddling with tea cups with Uncle Yong and those things you said?” Xiaowen asked.

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“That’s not something a child can learn,” I yawned.

“Aren’t you stingy?” she retorted.

“That’s my livelihood, the very thing I rely on. There’s a saying in the martial world: I’d rather give ten taels of gold than reveal a single secret. Do you think I’d just tell you so easily?” I smiled.

Xiaowen sized me up.

She shared Uncle Yong’s habit.

The way she looked at people was like an examination.

While scrutinizing, her fingers drummed on the table.

There was a sense of superiority.

I stood up and said, “Nothing else, I’m leaving.”

“Answer my questions properly. It’ll do you good, no harm. Don’t think that drinking Uncle Yong’s tea and having him chat with you alone means you can rest easy. I have no intention of speaking ill of Uncle Yong, nor can I change his mind. But from what I know, right now, he’s only interested in you. He won’t help you outright. Interest is one thing; having the mood to promote you is something else entirely. There’s a lot to do in between,” Xiaowen said.

That was true.

I had thought about approaching Xiaowen to get closer to Uncle Yong.

What exactly was their relationship?

Was she really his goddaughter, or was there more to it?

That didn’t concern me.

Even though I liked the girl, some things were not mine to wonder or ask.

One thing was certain: this girl was someone Uncle Yong trusted and cared for.

“In the martial underworld, many old sect members can’t speak freely in public. So unique communication methods evolved—hand signs, slang, even tea formations. More accurately, code words. Like the markings outside your door—they look like random scribbles to outsiders, but I can tell they mean thieves have scouted the place and are ready to strike,” I explained.

“What is ‘Old Rong’?” she asked again.

“It’s another term for thieves. Sometimes called ‘Buddha Lord,’ and in some places, ‘The Three Hands,’” I said.

“How did you learn this? Does someone in your family do this?” she asked.

“No. On my way here, I met a master who saw my unlimited potential and wanted to befriend me. He gave me a book,” I said casually.

“Can I borrow the book to take a look?” she asked.

“You can. But first, tell me what you can do to help me. This is an exchange,” I said.

Xiaowen smiled gently, “You really don’t like losing out. You’ve been here almost a month, right? Tell me what you know about the entire Kumquat Village and its surroundings.”