It was afternoon.
Old Huang gathered all the first-floor students together, and Li Xiuwen stood among the crowd.
At the door of the martial arts hall stood two strangers, a man and a woman, both tall and imposing.
The man was at least 1.9 meters tall, his arms a whole size bigger than Brother Ji's—thick, rounded with power, the skin carrying a faint bronze sheen, his presence like a flood in spate, his eyes like a starving wolf's.
The woman stood 1.8 meters tall, with a great burst of golden hair, a cropped tank top, and bell-bottom pants, her navel bared. Most eye-catching of all, two arhats were tattooed across her half-bared chest.
Their outlandish clothes looked nothing like those of people of the martial path, but Li Xiuwen knew: these two were absolute masters.
Because on each of their shoulders was tattooed a red peony.
"A Red Pole..."
Setting aside no-account punk gangs like the Thirteen Taibao of Longjin Road, the proper gangs of the Walled City generally ranked their members under five titles: Blue Lantern, Forty-Nine, Straw Sandal, Red Pole, and Dragon Head.
Simply put:
A Blue Lantern was an intern—someone off the roster who had never gone through the initiation ceremony.
A Forty-Nine had passed the initiation and stood on the official rolls.
A Straw Sandal was a core member who could take a few little brothers under his wing.
A Red Pole was the gold-medal enforcer—the company's top brass, its public face. Generally speaking, a gang's spokesman was chosen from among the Red Poles.
The most formidable Red Pole was also known as the "Flower Pole"—usually the gang's Dragon Head boss, or its sitting master.
Of course, gangs kept a few civilian posts that took no martial power, like the gang lawyer, the White Paper Fan, and the like.
But here such posts were hollow titles without real authority. In a world of transcendent martial arts, fists did the talking.
"Our respects to Master Huang." The man and the woman both bowed with courtesy.
Huang Sihai could not quite hide his pleased little expression. He coughed once and said, "Let me introduce these two. They are Red Poles of Hesheng Tu."
Hesheng Tu?
Li Xiuwen had heard of it—the biggest gang in the east district of the Walled City, and a branch of the Changle Society.
"I'm Yeji—the ji as in chicken chop... She's Lion Head Buddha... We've come today to recruit a few members. Anyone interested?" the man said.
"Me!"
"Me, me!"
A crowd of hands shot up at once.
Li Xiuwen thought it over, then raised his hand too. He was short of money.
Ever since taking that fish ball last time, he had not been able to get it out of his mind.
With his current strength, if he joined a gang and moved carefully, he ought to be able to earn money to fund his martial cultivation.
The man stepped forward, smiling. "I'll be feeling your bones. Our Hesheng Tu doesn't take just anyone."
...
Yeji went down the dozen-odd students, feeling bones one by one.
In the end, his gaze settled on Liu Chun. "Not bad—Purple Membrane already. You'll be of use. Want to join Hesheng Tu? From now on, Brother Chicken will look after you."
Liu Chun was overjoyed. "I do."
It wasn't that he badly needed money—he wanted to run with a gang all the same. He wanted fame, to rise above the crowd, to be admired by thousands!
The golden-haired woman came over to Cheng Kuiqiang and Ah Zhen. "You two want to join a gang?"
"Yes! Take us with you, Buddha Sis!" Ah Zhen laughed.
"I can go too? But I'm kind of dumb." Cheng Kuiqiang scratched his head.
"Your innate physiques are decent enough. Big fellow—you were born with some strength, weren't you?" Lion Head Buddha asked.
"Before I even started training, my strength was barely below a Green Membrane man's. Master says it's innate divine strength." Cheng Kuiqiang grinned.
"People born with innate divine strength are made for hard qigong—and hard qigong happens to be my specialty. Follow me, and I'll make you the hardest man in the Walled City," said Lion Head Buddha.
"Cheng Kuiqiang, what are you waiting for? Thank your new master!" Huang Sihai prompted with a glance.
"Master? Isn't my master you?" Cheng Kuiqiang was utterly lost.
"You great dolt. If Buddha Sis is willing to teach you hard qigong, you should be counting your lucky stars—she's a famous hard-qigong master in the Walled City," Ah Zhen scolded.
Even Liu Chun felt the pull.
Hard qigong—that is, body-tempering practice—far too few people knew this art. Among all the martial halls of the city, those that taught it were few.
If he could train in a hard-qigong art, then with his talent a place on the second floor was assured, and next year's "crossing-river quota" would be within reach too.
It was said that Mr. Ming was the Walled City's number-one hard-qigong master, known as the "Underground Ming King"!
"Hard qigong..." Li Xiuwen clenched his fist. What man didn't want to be harder?
He wanted to study under Buddha Sis as well, so he put himself forward and asked, "Buddha Sis, are you still taking students?"
Lion Head Buddha lowered her eyes to look at him. She hadn't noticed Li Xiuwen at all—naturally, since his cultivation and innate physique were both perfectly ordinary, with no innate divine strength to speak of.
"No openings for now... but if you're real gold, you're welcome any time."
"All right." Li Xiuwen wasn't disappointed. His starting point was low; for a master of her caliber not to single him out was only to be expected.
That same day, Lion Head Buddha and Yeji took Liu Chun, Cheng Kuiqiang, and Ah Zhen back to the gang: first the initiation ceremony, then their rank promotions.
For talents like theirs, joining meant starting at Forty-Nine at least, with decent work assigned and little danger attached.
The gang came to martial halls to recruit precisely to cultivate core members—newcomers needed time to grow first.
Anyone pulled in off the street at random was just there to pad the numbers and dress the shop window—cannon fodder when the gang wars came.
The others watched enviously as Liu Chun and the others departed.
Li Xiuwen went on with his boxing, focused on what was in front of him.
...
In the blink of an eye, another seven days passed.
At the Four Seas Martial Arts Hall, Li Xiuwen returned the Miscellany of the Martial Tomb to Old Chen.
"Don't lose heart, Brother Li. Things haven't been peaceful lately—joining a gang isn't necessarily a good thing," Old Chen comforted him from inside his cage.
"Mm." Li Xiuwen looked toward the incense burner.
[Li Xiuwen]
[Martial Skill]
[General Martial Knowledge: Entry (67%)]
[Sea Sand Stake: Entry (44%)]
[Flipping Sand Palm: Entry (53%)]
[Stage: Green Membrane (44%)]
Soon. One more month and he would reach Purple Membrane—and the Flipping Sand Palm should reach minor success as well.
...
At lunch, Huang Sihai came over to the table with his hands behind his back, walked a slow circle, and coughed.
The students all sprang to their feet, waiting for him to speak.
Huang Sihai said, "I have an announcement."
"Please go ahead, Master~" Ah Zhen, ever the lively one, promptly gave up her seat to Huang Sihai and set about gently pounding his shoulders, grinning all the while.
Huang Sihai lapped it up. The Four Seas Martial Arts Hall had few female disciples, and he was fond of this girl Ah Zhen—having her around kept everyone's training from being too dreary.
Huang Sihai looked at Liu Chun in the middle of the crowd. "A month from now, the Night Heron Martial Arts Hall next door is coming here on a formal visit."
"A formal visit?" Interest showed on Liu Chun's face. "Master, do you need our help?"
Huang Sihai sighed. "That Old Ye has grown sly as an old fox. A 'visit,' they say—in truth he wants to smash our hall.
Old Ye styles himself the heir of a distinguished line and passes himself off as the White Crane style's successor—the only trouble being that the White Crane style refuses to acknowledge him.
All these years he has racked his brains hunting martial prodigies and kept raising his admission standards, all so the Night Heron style could rise to a 'renowned school' and slap the White Crane style across the face.
This year he has taken on a promising sapling, and he can't wait to show his face here, building his name off our Four Seas Martial Arts Hall.
And that's not the end of it—he has even invited a Ming Pao reporter to come interview and cover the whole thing. He means, quite plainly, to use us as his stepping stone!"
Chapter 15