Going on Duty

After a smooth session of Iron Shirt practice and another point of experience gained, Chen Ping'an had meant to press his advantage and keep training. But his body told him he could not go on. He had one day off, and tomorrow he would go on duty. That would demand no small amount of strength and energy. Chen Ping'an thought it over and decided to leave it here for today and pick it up again tomorrow. He put away the undergarment he used for practice, washed up carelessly, and got ready for bed. Chen Er Ya had already finished washing up and was waiting for him in bed. In ordinary households, space was limited, and brothers and sisters did not stand on ceremony. Ever since they were small, Chen Ping'an and Chen Er Ya had shared one bed. Of course, their bedding was laid out separately. "Brother, you finished your martial practice!" Chen Er Ya said excitedly. "That's right." Chen Ping'an answered and climbed onto the bed, slipping into his own bedding. Chen Er Ya had laid it out for him beforehand. "Nannan, tomorrow brother goes on duty. When you're home alone, don't just make do with lunch. Remember to eat something good. We bought plenty of eggs today, so tomorrow eat them without worrying. And the leftover beef, don't save it for brother. Eat all of it." Knowing Chen Er Ya's temperament well, Chen Ping'an gave his instructions. "We only have ten days until the debt comes due. Brother earns the money and supports the family all by himself, and the pressure is already so heavy. If I really ate the way you said, how would we ever get by?" Paying Little Tiger back fourteen taels, principal and interest, in ten days—that had plainly become the worry gnawing at Chen Er Ya. "Nannan, eat without worry. The family can afford this much. As for the money, brother already has a plan." Chen Ping'an reassured her. In the moonlight, Chen Er Ya looked at Chen Ping'an with pure disbelief on her face. "Really, brother isn't lying to you! Would brother joke about something like this?" Half-lying on the bed, Chen Ping'an reached out and rubbed Chen Er Ya's head. In truth, he really did have some ideas about how to scrape together the remaining silver. But putting those ideas into practice would mean taking some risks. There were still ten days. No rush. Better to first get somewhere with his Iron Shirt training! "Really?" "Really!" "I knew brother would find a way." Chen Er Ya's face broke into a delighted smile. "Mm. Oh, right—tomorrow don't be stingy with the money. Go buy some pork leg meat, and then..." Chen Ping'an went on and on. The two of them talked for a long while, until Chen Er Ya finally grew sleepy and slowly drifted off. Moonlight spilled down, and a calm, peaceful look settled on Chen Er Ya's face, her breathing steady and even, as if she were sleeping in her mother's arms. It was the feeling of having someone to lean on, the embrace of a home. It was knowing that one person would always stand at her side, facing the world's endless troubles with her. The crossbar on the door bolt had been kicked apart during the day. When he went on duty tomorrow, he would look around along the way and see if he could get a suitable one from somewhere. A firewood stick propped against the door was, in the end, too flimsy. Mm... Uncle Pan's family down the lane still seemed to owe their household half a tael of silver, and it had been a while now. He should find a time to go and collect that as well. Now that he had begun martial practice and cultivation, food, clothing, and daily expenses were not what they used to be. And then there was... Little Tiger had agreed today to extend the deadline for the silver to ten days from now. But he could not afford to overlook the chance that Little Tiger might change his mind at the last moment. The odds of him going back on his word were not high, but the possibility could not be ruled out. He still needed to make some preparations and have a contingency plan. There was also this: during the day, he had deliberately let a hint of hesitation show, making sure Little Tiger saw it. Unlike ordinary gang members, Little Tiger looked big and rough, but beneath that blunt exterior he was careful and shrewd. Otherwise Tiger would never have valued him enough to groom him as a successor. He could let a suitable amount of nerve show, but not too much. That trace of hesitation should be just right. Any less and he would seem too deep and calculating; any more and he would seem so useless that people would trample all over him... In the moonlight, on the bed, Chen Ping'an carefully worked through his calculations. ... Early the next morning, Chen Ping'an drank a bowl of congee and went to the Nanquan Lane Suppression Office for roll call. Though he was an unregistered runner, he still had to obey the rules just as the registered runners did. In some matters of enforcement and supervision, he was even held to stricter standards than they were. By the time Chen Ping'an reached the Nanquan Lane Suppression Office, quite a few runners had already arrived. The way they arranged themselves was glaringly obvious: twos and threes in one knot, fives and sixes in another—at a glance, each cluster was its own faction. None of that had much to do with Chen Ping'an, though. His relationships in the office were neither good nor bad; no one deliberately tried to curry favor with him, and no one was likely to deliberately make trouble for him. After greeting the few he knew, Chen Ping'an found a corner and waited quietly. "Ping'an, you're a little later today than usual. You always used to get here before me." A scrawny young man with a monkey-sharp look about him came walking toward Chen Ping'an. "Monkey. I slept a bit late last night, so I dozed a while longer this morning." Seeing who it was, Chen Ping'an smiled. The newcomer was named Hou Fugui, nicknamed Monkey, and was one of the few people in the Nanquan Lane Suppression Office on good terms with Chen Ping'an. Hou Fugui, like him, was an unregistered runner at the office. His family ran a blacksmithing business, and his old father was a huge, powerfully built man. How he had ended up with a son built like this was anybody's guess. The two chatted for a few moments, and then another man came in through the office gate. He glanced around a few times and spotted the two of them standing in the corner. "Dashan, over here!" Monkey called out to him. "Ping'an, Monkey." The man called Dashan smiled in greeting as he walked over. Dashan had rough features, dark skin, and a solid build; he looked like he had some muscle on him. "Morning, Dashan." Chen Ping'an greeted him with a smile. "Morning, Ping'an." Dashan answered with a simple grin. Unlike Monkey, Dashan's family were just ordinary farmers outside the commandery city. Years earlier, he had inadvertently helped the office close a case, and with the strength he had, he had stumbled by chance into a post as an unregistered runner. Unregistered or not, for the Dashan family it was an honor to their ancestors. They had spent their lives scratching a living from the soil, and no one had imagined that by Dashan's generation one of them would break free of it. Speaking of it, Dashan's strength was not ordinary strength by any means. Once, Chen Ping'an had seen with his own eyes how he lifted a millstone-sized rock over his head with ease. As time passed, runners came in through the office gate one after another. Most of those who arrived late were registered runners. Then, as the next man walked in, the buzzing voices inside the Nanquan Lane Suppression Office fell silent at once. "Head Runner Zheng is here." Monkey said it under his breath and then said no more, fixing his eyes on the newcomer just like everyone else.