Sand and Gravel

Such was the world: when your strength fell short, you had to accept it rather than dream of defying fate. When your standing was insufficient, you had to see clearly where you stood rather than expect anyone to show you face. Looking at the handprint on the tabletop, Chen Ping'an saw the situation with absolute clarity. Qi and blood second layer, perfected—strength training accomplished! Previously, it had been merely an abstract concept to him, but the handprint on the wooden surface laid the gap bare before his eyes. Pressing out a handprint with pent-up force was worlds apart from leaving such an imprint with casual ease. The latter signified strength that could be released and reined in at will. Against such power, he stood no chance at all. With force like that, if Little Tiger were to strike him with full intent, Chen Ping'an's lesser mastery of Iron Shirt could never withstand it. A few more blows, and he would be killed or critically wounded! Monthly dues! These so-called monthly dues were nothing more than a polite term for protection money. It had long been common knowledge that the Tiger Head Gang collected dues every month in Pear Blossom Alley and the surrounding streets. Yet ever since Old Chen had established a foothold in the commandery city, he had never paid a single copper of that blasted money. Old Chen had never paid, and naturally, Chen Ping'an had never paid either. Little Tiger's parting words had made the message crystal clear: starting next month, Chen Ping'an would have to begin paying monthly dues. Back then, Old Chen could avoid paying because he was a registered runner on the rolls of the Nanquan Lane Suppression Office, whose martial cultivation had reached the perfected second layer of qi and blood. Now, though Chen Ping'an was likewise a runner in the Nanquan Lane Suppression Office, in the eyes of Little Tiger and his ilk, he had not even stepped across the threshold of martial arts, and he was nothing more than an unregistered temporary runner. Compared to Old Chen of the past, the difference was like heaven and earth! The rule of monthly dues was set by the Tiger Head Gang. Old Chen had possessed the power to break it, but the present Chen Ping'an could not. In the eyes of Little Tiger and his men, the status of an unregistered runner was simply not enough! When your strength fell short, you had no choice but to swallow insults and bear the disgrace. That was the rule of the strong, and the undeniable truth of this world. Chen Ping'an walked forward and shut the courtyard gate, the smile on his face only then slowly fading away. "Big Brother, are you all right?" Noticing that Chen Ping'an looked unwell, Chen Er Ya hurried over to comfort him. She had heard Little Tiger's parting words just now as well. "Nannan, I'm fine! Now that the debt is settled, I just feel a great weight lifted from my shoulders." Chen Ping'an gave the receipt in his hand a light wave. "Mm! The silver is paid off, and with you working as a runner, our days at home will only get better and better!" The little girl spoke earnestly, nodding to make herself sound more convincing. "I heard the aunties next door say that the Tiger Head Gang's dues are charged by head. Able-bodied men pay one qian of silver, able-bodied women pay half a qian, and the elderly and children pay twenty small cash each. There are only the two of us at home, so that's only one hundred and twenty small cash a month. With your monthly stipend from the office, it'll be effortless!" The little girl put on a breezy tone. In Great Qian currency, one tael of silver equaled ten qian of silver, and one qian of silver equaled one hundred small cash. Chen Ping'an stroked the little girl's head, nodding in agreement. "Mm, Nannan is right. A mere hundred and twenty small cash is nothing difficult for your brother." "Mm." The little girl nodded vigorously. "Nannan, now that our debts are cleared, the two of us can live our lives in peace." Chen Ping'an pulled Chen Er Ya into his arms, but a sharp glint flashed deep within his eyes. *Monthly dues?! Within a month at most, I'll make the Tiger Head Gang break their rule for me!* *** Inside the small courtyard, Chen Ping'an gently comforted Chen Er Ya. Since it was his day off and he had no street patrols to attend to, he practiced Iron Shirt once more in the afternoon. After another half-shichen session, the experience value on his panel shifted from 4 to 5. Chen Ping'an attempted a second round of Iron Shirt right after, but he found his skin turning faintly red and the strain difficult to endure. The interval of rest between sessions clearly had not been long enough. *If every day were a day off, I could easily get an extra practice session in during the daylight!* Chen Ping'an mused quietly to himself. Unfortunately, such a day off came only once every ten days. After finishing his Iron Shirt training, Chen Ping'an wiped down his body. He spent the entire afternoon inside the small courtyard without stepping foot outside. For dinner, he planned to make braised pork trotters—a substantial dish. Chen Ping'an and Chen Er Ya bustled about in the small kitchen early on. With brother and sister working in tandem, the preparations went swiftly. Tonight's dinner consisted of a large bowl of braised pork trotters, a plate of stir-fried sliced meat with seasonal vegetables, a bowl of steamed egg with small shrimp, and two bowls of cooked white rice, one large and one small. The rich aroma of meat drifted through the entire courtyard, enough to make anyone's mouth water. Martial cultivation consumed a tremendous amount of energy, and Chen Ping'an ended up devouring every last bite of the meal. This left Chen Er Ya thoroughly astonished. The other dishes were one thing, but those braised pork trotters... Though called trotters, all the meat extending up the shank was included as well! "Big Brother, your appetite lately... is really amazing!" The little girl stared at Chen Ping'an with wide, surprised eyes. "Hahaha, yes, not bad, right?" Chen Ping'an chuckled as he picked the remaining scraps of meat from the pork bone. "I'm practicing martial arts now, which demands a plentiful supply of qi and blood. When the body hungers, the appetite naturally opens wide! Nannan, go ahead and buy some beef and mutton tomorrow. Don't pinch pennies! As long as I succeed in martial arts and become a registered runner, everything we deserve will come our way!" Seeing that Chen Ping'an had eaten with such relish, the little girl nodded like a pounding pestle. After dinner, brother and sister chatted casually as they cleared the table. Halfway through washing the bowls and chopsticks, a knocking sound came from outside the courtyard gate. *Thump! Thump! Thump!* "Who is it?" The two exchanged a glance, and Chen Ping'an called out. "Young Brother Chen, it's me. Your Uncle Zhang." A thick, resonant voice answered from beyond the gate. "It's Uncle Zhang!" Chen Ping'an hurried over and pulled the gate open. Standing outside was a dark-skinned, sturdy, and capable old man—Uncle Zhang himself. Across Uncle Zhang's shoulders rested a carrying pole with a basket on either side, filled with the sand and gravel Chen Ping'an had requested. "Come in, Uncle Zhang, please come in." Chen Ping'an welcomed the old man inside. "Young Brother Chen, where would you like these dumped?" Stepping into the courtyard, Uncle Zhang glanced around. "Right over there will do fine!" Chen Ping'an pointed with a smile toward a corner beside the gate. Uncle Zhang acknowledged the direction, lowered the baskets, and carefully tilted them, pouring the sand and gravel onto the spot Chen Ping'an had indicated. "Young Brother Chen, what do you need all this sand and gravel for?" Uncle Zhang asked curiously as he tipped the load. "Oh, it's like this. The Suppression Office passed down a few grappling techniques and told us to use sand and gravel to condition our hands whenever we have free time," Chen Ping'an fabricated casually. "Ah, so that's it," Uncle Zhang said, nodding with a hint of envy. "Those who eat government grain truly have it good—the benefits are wonderful, and they even teach you martial skills." "It's nothing special, just some rudimentary basics, better than nothing," Chen Ping'an laughed it off. "Brother Zhang is helping out in the restaurant kitchen, isn't he? He's doing quite well for himself too!" "Ah, Young Brother Chen, if my Tieniu had even half your ability, I'd wake up laughing from my dreams." Amid their idle chatter, the two baskets of sand and gravel were soon emptied completely into the small courtyard.