The morning sun was rising in the east when Zhu Shiqing suddenly rocketed out of bed. Without even taking the time to pull on his pants, he threw back the bamboo curtain before the window, inwardly cursing:
*Holy shit, is that damn sun coming up or going down?*
He had not felt it over the past few days, but waking from this sleep, his muscles ached with an excruciating, piercing soreness. Supporting his stiff frame, he took a turn outside before finally confirming that it was indeed morning.
He had actually slept for a whole day and night...
Fortunately, this long slumber had cured a thousand bouts of exhaustion. Zhu Shiqing felt thoroughly invigorated. Stepping out of his quarters, he found Jiangning County bustling with excitement today. The gossip-hungry townsfolk who had watched them get arrested the other day had gathered once more, eager to spectate the arrival of the new county magistrate and his leadership cohort.
After wandering around a bit, Zhu Shiqing found himself unimpressed by the new county magistrate. Turning a corner, he went off to find Fang Wenjian.
The residences for county officials and clerks were divided into neat blocks. Fang Wenjian's quarters were not far from Zhu Shiqing's, so it took him little effort to get there. In the early morning air, Fang Wenjian was busy practicing his boxing and staff routines.
"You're a trained martial artist?" Zhu Shiqing asked quietly, suddenly appearing at Fang Wenjian's side.
"Brother Zhu, you're awake?" Fang Wenjian checked his stance, hurried to invite Zhu Shiqing inside, and poured a pot of tea. As he poured, he said, "I went looking for you several times before, but you were sleeping so deeply that I hated to disturb you. Waking up this morning is perfect timing—the new magistrate has brought a whole retinue to take over."
"Stop right there. Just call me Shiqing or Jiuru. We're about the same age, so there's no need for this 'Brother' business." A faint blush brushed Zhu Shiqing's cheeks, and he added, "I went to watch their arrival in the county just now, too. That magistrate is just like Diao Yuxiu—huge ass, oddly round face. As far as I can tell, it's the same old medicine in a new bottle."
By rights, material supplies in the Republic of China were scarce, and when grain yields for any given region were divided among the population, food was in critically short supply. Yet why were these county magistrates plump and fleshy to a man, while his own uncle had grown so gaunt he practically resembled a bamboo pole?
This Jiangning County—he was not staying here any longer.
"Wenjian, come with me," Zhu Shiqing said, gazing up at the blue sky. As the saying went: small temple, fierce demonic winds; shallow water, crawling with turtles. If this place would not keep him, there would surely be a place that would.
Of course, joining the Fuxing Society was entirely out of the question. Once in intelligence, one was adrift in a sea with no return; shadowy clandestine work held no appeal for Zhu Shiqing.
"Where to? My life belongs to you anyway." Fang Wenjian blinked, looking at Zhu Shiqing. He knew full well who could put meat on the table.
"To Nanjing. We're going to my uncle."
...
Setting out this time, Zhu Shiqing had gained a brother. Through idle banter along the way, he learned that the fellow truly was a seasoned martial artist. Clothed, you could not tell, but under that fabric lay a physique of solid muscle!
According to Fang Wenjian, he had apprenticed under a master in Hubei as a child and practiced martial arts until he was thirteen. Later, following the Northern Expedition, when the Wuhan and Nanjing governments unified, everyone he met told him there were abundant opportunities and bright prospects here in the Jiangsu–Shanghai region, where a man could make a name for himself.
This was no exaggeration. Jiangsu and Shanghai could be considered among the most developed regions in China at the time. When it came to cities, Shanghai held top place. Early national industries had concentrated there; buoyed by an abundance of bureaucratic, private, and foreign capital, Shanghai had become the nation's industrial stronghold, boasting a diverse array of manufacturing bases.
Strategically, Shanghai occupied a position of paramount importance; economically, it was no exaggeration to say that Shanghai held the economic lifeline of the Nationalist government.
By the time the two reached Nanjing, it was already noon, the bright sun hanging high. Going to the ferry crossing at this hour meant his uncle would likely not be there, so Zhu Shiqing and Fang Wenjian went in search of the household where he had lodged as a child. But stepping into the street of his childhood memories, that old residence was nowhere to be found.
"Let's stay at an inn, my treat," Zhu Shiqing said with a shrug of his shoulders, sighing deeply at how everything had changed with time.
The term "inn" was meant for ordinary folk. High society generally patronized what were called "hotels," such as the Nanjing Central Hotel, the largest in the city at the time. Backed against the Presidential Palace, it occupied a prime location and offered full services including Chinese and Western cuisine, business conferences, and lodging.
In wartime, the hotel's architectural strengths could even be utilized as a temporary command headquarters.
Naturally, Zhu Shiqing could not afford a hotel; he was only fit for an inn. An inn was far simpler: a single room with a couple of beds placed crosswise or lengthwise, and if you were lucky, a wooden table. The price was modest, and guests were free to come and go as they pleased.
Once everything was settled, two grown men were hardly willing to remain cooped up in a cramped, dim space. Going out to have some fun required no discussion whatsoever.
It had only been three or four years since he left Nanjing for Jiangning, yet driven by the Capital Plan, the transformation in the urban landscape was astonishing.
Along both sides of Yihe Road, towering Chinese parasol trees had sprung up, bordering rows of two-story houses blending Chinese and Western styles. This was Nanjing's "upscale residential quarter," and the Yihe Mansions were particularly dazzling. The sight left Fang Wenjian utterly spellbound the entire way—where in Hubei could anyone witness such a spectacle?
Further ahead, post offices, barber shops, pharmacies, and banks stood in close succession amidst bustling throngs of pedestrians. On the road, rickshaws, horse carriages, and Buick cars vied for right of way.
If one were to ask where the greatest bustle in Nanjing could be found, the first choice would surely be the teahouse.
Never mind whether west or east of the city, in this part of Nanjing, any teahouse gathered merchants and travelers from all directions. One could step inside, order a plate of sunflower seeds, catch a few travelers for a chat, exchange gossip, and uncover happenings from all across the land in casual back-and-forth conversation.
Having walked quite a distance, the two felt a bit thirsty and turned into a teahouse named Tianxiang Pavilion.
The moment they took half a step inside, the clamor washed over them; another half step, and they were completely enveloped by it.
"Upstairs, gentlemen, please!" A waiter carrying a tray, wearing a round skullcap on his head and a white towel draped over his shoulder, trotted briskly over. The tea ware in his hands clinked with a merry jingle. Once the two were seated, he asked, "What would the two gentlemen like to drink?"
This private booth was separated on either side by folding screens and sat by a window overlooking the adjoining market.
"What do you have here?" Zhu Shiqing leaned back slightly, resting his right hand on the tea table, looking every bit the seasoned connoisseur.
"Jinling Yuhua tea, white tea, top-grade oolong, Pu'er—our humble shop has them all. Please see which kind strikes your fancy, sir."
Zhu Shiqing looked at Fang Wenjian, who merely shook his head; he had absolutely no concept of such teas. Zhu Shiqing then replied, "Bring us a pot of white tea first, and a plate of melon seeds."
"Right away, coming right up!" the waiter piped up before scurrying off to attend to other tables. Fang Wenjian leaned in at that moment and whispered in a lowered voice:
"Shiqing, I really never would have guessed. You don't show your hand, but are you actually a dandy from a wealthy family?"
Zhu Shiqing only smiled. This was indeed hard to explain. Wealthy playboys could certainly drink tea in a tea house, but why couldn't an orphan? As long as you had enough silver dollars in hand.
The commotion from both sides was fairly loud. The voices were coarse, distinctly from northerners. In this teahouse, they managed to conjure the boisterous atmosphere of a drinking den, playing drinking finger-games even as they chatted.
In a short while, the melon seeds and tea were brought to the table. Cracking seeds and letting the hot tea cool, the two looked out at the flow of vehicles in the distance, listening to the bustling ambience all around them.
And the curtain drew back on a new chapter of life.
Chapter 16