Washing Hands in a Golden Basin

"Washing your hands in a golden basin is nowhere near that simple!" Inside the teahouse, an old man bundled in a sheepskin vest took a few drags from his long tobacco pipe. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he shook his head with an air of seasoned wisdom. "This ceremony originally came from the boatmen hauling grain to the royal palace in Han Chang'an. Once they came ashore at the Wei River ferry, they held a ritual to mark the end of their work for the imperial authorities. "The basin wasn't made of real gold either—it was copper. But as time went on, the custom spread to all sorts of trades, and everybody picked up the habit." The speaker was Old Donkey Head, a lifelong carter who had roamed north and south and seen his fair share of the world. Now that he was old, he spent his days idling in the Xianyang teahouses. A circle of onlookers had gathered around him. Quite a few knew nothing of jianghu conventions, and one of them chuckled. "Old Donkey Head, hasn't it been years since you washed your hands in a golden basin?" "Bah!" Old Donkey Head waved his hand dismissively. "This old bag of bones just got too decrepit to work. I still have to discipline the young pups on ordinary days, so that doesn't count. Completely quitting the trade—now that is washing your hands in a golden basin. "In ordinary trades, it sounds straightforward enough: you announce in public that you'll no longer make a living from that bowl of rice, usually inviting peers from your trade to bear witness. With one less competitor, your rivals are naturally thrilled and might even send a modest gift in congratulations. "Only local trade bosses are qualified to stage such an affair. If a useless nobody like one of us tried to pull that stunt, wouldn't it be a laughingstock?" "Hahaha, fair point!" The crowd burst into laughter. One young gentleman among them grew curious. "Then washing one's hands in the golden basin of the jianghu must be a whole different matter, right?" "Naturally," Old Donkey Head sighed. "Wherever there are people, there is a jianghu; wherever there is a jianghu, there are grudges and grievances. If you're a greenwood outlaw who has slaughtered countless lives, how could those karmic debts vanish just because you say so? "Even if the victims agreed, the authorities wouldn't! "The same goes for running a martial arts school. You can wash your hands, but old debts must be settled. If even a single person refuses to let it go, the retirement doesn't count." "What happens if someone refuses?" "They're martial artists—if words fail, fists talk! In short, every grievance has to be cleared before your hands are truly washed. "Once you pass that trial, anyone who comes seeking vengeance afterward is breaking the rules. But on your end, if you meddle in jianghu affairs again, you've broken your sacred oath as well." Understanding dawned on the onlookers. "So that's how it works!" "No wonder there's been such an uproar." "Monkey Zhou wants to wash his hands, but I doubt he'll make it through." "Why wouldn't he? Is there anyone left who can beat him?" "Can't people invite fighters to back them up...?" Amid the chatter, the young gentleman shook his head. "What a ridiculous rule. If you have a grudge, take your revenge. Can an oath really stop anyone?" Old Donkey Head took a slow puff of smoke and said with profound meaning, "If jianghu rules have survived to this day, there is a reason for it. "In the jianghu, everyone grows old. No matter who you are, the day comes when you can no longer carry the weight..." *** "Zhou has no choice but to step down." Inside the Zhang Martial Arts School, as soon as the disciple who served tea withdrew, Zhang Shitong beamed and lowered his voice. "Luck has abandoned Monkey Zhou. Even if he had three heads and six arms, he'd have to accept his misfortune." Li Yan took a sip of tea. "Chang'an reached a conclusion?" For things to unfold so abruptly, the trouble could only have started at the very root. "Indeed," Zhang Shitong said with a grin. "Lord Li's fortune is soaring. Word has it the Li family's fleet rendered distinguished service, and the Emperor personally issued an imperial edict promoting him. There's even a strong chance he'll enter the imperial court. "Meanwhile, Assistant Administration Commissioner Lu Kang has lost all hope. Having resorted to shady maneuvers earlier, he had no choice but to submit his resignation and retire to his ancestral home to save his own skin. "Ah, human calculations never outmatch the mandate of heaven!" Li Yan had no interest in the squabbles of officials. He asked in a deep voice, "Zhou Pan intends to wash his hands in a golden basin. Where do you all stand on this?" Zhang Shitong shook his head. "Lord Li suffered plenty of setbacks before, but to display magnanimity, he chose not to pursue the matter. He even petitioned the imperial court to grant an honorary archway to Lord Lu's family. Naturally, we can't push things too far on our end either. "The Canal Gang and Taixing Livery care about profit above all. As long as the Zhou family obediently retreats from Xianyang and lets them take over some turf, they won't utter a peep. "The elders of the martial arts trade were mostly afraid of being oppressed once the Zhou family rose to power. Now that the storm has passed, they have no desire to invite trouble. "Only Senior Luo Shihai insists that the Zhou family hand over the culprit from back then." Li Yan glanced at him. "What about your Zhang family?" Zhang Shitong chuckled slyly. "My father has been nominated as the next president of the Xianyang Divine Fist Association. How could he kick a man when he's down? Naturally, where it is possible to let someone off, one should let them off." "Tsk, tsk." Watching his smug expression, Sha Lifei felt a wave of irritation and couldn't resist mocking him. "You people reaped the benefits, so of course you can afford to be generous. When the Zhou family was ruining people's homes and destroying families, they never thought of letting anyone off. "What about the victims? Has none of them come knocking to settle scores?" Zhang Shitong took no offense. He paused for a moment, then shook his head. "You are a man of the jianghu yourself—how could you say something so naive? "Zhou Pan's ceremony is meant to placate the major factions of Xianyang. If those ordinary victims show up at his door, he can simply settle the score with violence. What does he have to fear? "In this jianghu, the biggest fist is the only one with the right to speak..." Choked by the truth of it, Sha Lifei muttered a few curses under his breath and fell silent. Li Yan said calmly, "Since you have already made your decisions, why summon me here?" Zhang Shitong replied, "Didn't you cripple Zhou Bai? His father, Zhou Peide, is already in prison. My father thinks this is the perfect opportunity to clear the air so there won't be future trouble. "My father wants you to join the Divine Fist Association. After a few years of seasoning, you could open a martial arts school or an escort agency to build an enterprise for the Li family, fulfilling the bonds of the older generation." Li Yan was somewhat surprised, but after a moment of silence, he shook his head. "I appreciate Senior Zhang's goodwill, but I'm afraid I cannot comply." Zhang Shitong froze. "Why?" Li Yan took a sip of tea and said with complete composure, "My fist may not be the biggest, but I am one of those victims too!" *** The sixth day of the ninth month: auspicious for meeting kin and sealing pacts; inauspicious for burials. "Hurry up, hang the lanterns!" "Why hasn't the fish arrived yet?" "The boatman said the Wei River has been strange these past two days—barely any fish. They went to other channels to cast their nets, but they'll definitely make it in time." "Make sure to check them. Don't let them pawn off dead fish on us." "Where is Martial Uncle Wang Yao?" "He said the clinic is packed and he can't get away." "Bullshit! Does he not know what day it is? He's clearly—" "Forget it, just let Master know." Outside the courtyard of the Zhou Martial Arts School, disciples scurried about in a flurry of activity. Everyone knew what day it was. Yet as they hurried to and fro, a trace of bewilderment lingered in their eyes. When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter, and the Zhou family was no exception. Over the past several days, more than half of the disciples had bowed out and departed. Those who remained were loyal, but they couldn't help feeling panic, unsure of what their future held. Many still remembered the last time the Zhou estate had been this bustling. It was during the Mid-Autumn Festival, when the Eight Great Vajras gathered together. Every martial arts school and escort agency in the city, and even the yamen officials, had sent gifts to their door. Back then, the opera troupe had been hired from Chang'an. The bright moon had shone down on a hall packed with distinguished guests, overflowing with jubilation. Who could have imagined that in so short a time, everything would come to this? Among the Eight Great Vajras, Zheng Xianhuai's entire household had been wiped out; Zhou Peide was thrown into prison, sentenced to beheading after the autumn; and Yuan Qu and Zheng Heibei had fled, only to die after colluding with heretics, their family assets confiscated by the authorities. Wang Yao from the clinic and Liu Jincheng from the escort agency had both claimed urgent business and refused to come, clearly seeking to sever ties with Zhou Pan, since they still had to make a living in Xianyang. Today, of the Eight Great Vajras, only two were present—and both were members of the Zhou clan. The mansion was collapsing so fast that they could barely comprehend it. Many disciples had already begun calculating their own exits. Once Zhou Pan finished washing his hands in the golden basin, he would most likely take his clan out of Xianyang and return to his ancestral home. These disciples had thrown their weight around under the Zhou family's banner for years, offending no small number of people. It seemed that after today, Xianyang would no longer be safe for them either. Outside the Zhou residence, a crowd of idle onlookers had gathered to watch the spectacle. They pointed and whispered, their faces brimming with schadenfreude. The disciples burned with fury at the sight. In the days of the Zhou family's supremacy, these people wouldn't have dared even to approach, let alone put on such wretched smirks. Yet not a single disciple stepped forward to confront them. After today, with the Zhou family gone, they would become nothing more than rootless duckweed. If a conflict broke out, no one would stand up to protect them. Fewer troubles were always better than more. Before long, the auspicious hour arrived. Firecrackers cracked and popped as the guests arrived as scheduled. A disciple at the gate called out the names in a ringing voice: "Master Liu of Qingquan Martial Arts School arrives!" "Escort Master Li of Changsheng Escort Agency arrives!" "Foreman Qin of Taixing Livery arrives!" "Chief Han of the Canal Gang arrives!" "Old Master Zhang of the Zhang Martial Arts School arrives!" "Head Constable Guan of the yamen arrives!" The onlookers by the entrance were hardly surprised. For Zhou Pan's retirement ceremony, every attendee was a figure of renown in Xianyang. Naturally, those without deep ties or serious grievances had sent modest gifts out of courtesy even if they didn't come in person—an act known as sending regard where one could not go. What the crowd truly wanted to see was whether anyone would dare make trouble today!