Li Xiuwen reached into Brother Ji's shattered chest and drew out the Butterfly, then gave it a wash in the foul water.
From Brother Ji's pockets he dug out a handful of odds and ends: a lighter, cigarettes, three hundred dollars...
"Damn, he was broke. These punks have no idea what saving money means—no wonder they've done so badly for themselves."
"Hold on. Why does the hidden lining of this pocket feel like it has something in it?"
Li Xiuwen used the Butterfly to slit the lining open and pulled out a scrap of ragged cloth. Unfolded, it proved to be wrapping a thin golden oil-paper booklet.
He opened it to page after page of dense, minute characters, along with diagrams of little figures running through fist forms.
"The Mountain-Moving style... the Armor-Binding Art... A secret manual from some school of the martial arts? I've never heard of it."
The Walled City alone held over a hundred schools of the martial path—to say nothing of Xianghai and Sheng.
The styles of this world were so many and so tangled that even a top expert could not know them all, let alone a newcomer fresh out of the gate like him.
"Put it away for now. A technique with no traceable origins—can't practice it blindly. I'll study it back home and see whether it can be trained at all."
Li Xiuwen stripped off his blood-spattered clothes, dragged Brother Ji's corpse through the foul drain, and scrubbed it down hard, washing away his scent and his fingerprints. The Soul-Crushing Powder might also let someone trace the Sea Sand style's origins—all of it had to be washed away.
The Walled City had no law, only the unwritten jianghu rules the gangs lived by. Aside from Third Master, nobody cared whether Brother Ji lived or died.
Caution above all—that could never be wrong.
As for the corpse, he had no way to dispose of it any time soon; leaving it in the sewers was the best choice. Bodies turned up here every day. This was already the customary dumping ground after gang wars.
It was only as he passed the exit that Li Xiuwen noticed a charred palm print sunken three inches into the wall, as if a palm-shaped branding iron heated to a fierce heat had been pressed into it.
It already carried the wear of years. Around it were bullet craters left by gunfire in gang shootouts—but beside that charred palm print they looked trifling.
"One palm burned a great pit into the wall... How many years of training would that take? Could Old Huang manage it?"
"Dragons and tigers lie hidden in the Walled City. Stay low-key, always."
Leaving the sewers, Li Xiuwen vanished into the night.
* * *
The Thirteen Taibao's base.
Third Master sat with his chin propped on one hand, dozing lightly, a trace of impatience on his face. "Where's Lanming Ji? He's the only one missing. Daring to make me wait for him—what a big face he has!"
"Third Master, Ah Ji's gotten a bit full of himself lately." A lean, wiry little man with triangular eyes said, chuckling.
This was Viper, the Thirteen Taibao's second-in-command. His strength was about even with Brother Ji's; he ranked second only because his seniority ran longer.
But Brother Ji was outstanding at the work, raked in more protection money, and his background was far from ordinary, so in recent years Third Master valued him more.
"I know every little scheme in his head. If he didn't have an older cousin running with Leigongpeng, I'd have cleaned house long ago." Third Master laughed.
"Third Master, I'll go look for Brother Ji." A young punk volunteered, raising his hand.
Third Master waved him off. The punk pulled off his shoes, waded into the sewage, and left.
Five minutes later the punk came hurrying back, trembling from head to toe, and stammered: "Third Master... Brother Ji... he's dead."
"What?!" Third Master's murky old eyes went round, and a daunting presence burst out of him.
"Beaten to death? Where? Take me to see!" Viper's face, too, showed shock.
* * *
Brother Ji's tall frame leaned against the wall, his head—a smashed melon—hanging limp.
Third Master limped over, his expression ugly.
Viper had already finished examining the wounds. "Penetrating wound through the left chest. The killer ambushed him from behind. His head was crushed by fierce palm force."
"Hoo..." Third Master let out a breath of relief. "So the enemy was only at the Green Membrane level. Otherwise there'd have been no need to go to such lengths."
"My fear is that Ah Ji crossed someone he shouldn't have." Viper said. "Third Master, do we investigate?"
Third Master considered. "Investigate—but keep this quiet... Don't let Daoyou Ming learn of it."
What the world didn't know was that Brother Ji had an older cousin in Leigongpeng.
Leigongpeng was a gang branch under Changle, much like Hesheng Tu.
Brother Ji had started out running with Leigongpeng. His conduct was so wild that he broke their rules, and he nearly took the "Three Knives, Six Holes" from Leigongpeng's boss, Old Leigong—three sharp knives stabbed clean through the body, leaving six holes. A torture of the gang world.
Only because Daoyou Ming pleaded for him did the boss spare Brother Ji, expelling him from Leigongpeng and barring him from any branch of the Changle family.
Daoyou Ming and Third Master were old acquaintances, so he entrusted Brother Ji to Third Master.
If Daoyou Ming learned of Brother Ji's death, even Third Master couldn't guess the consequences.
That man was Leigongpeng's strongest Straw Sandal, a man of real standing in the gang world.
"The truth will out, Third Master. Daoyou Ming is bound to learn of it sooner or later." Viper said, looking troubled.
"No matter. We're only staying here one month. Once this last job is done, we pull out of the Walled City." Third Master laughed.
"True enough. For all Daoyou Ming's ability, he can't hunt us down outside the Walled City."
"Burn Lanming Ji's body. If Daoyou Ming asks within the month, say Brother Ji went off to have fun outside the Walled City and we don't know where he is." Third Master said.
"I told Ah Ji long ago to rein himself in a little. Pity his talent was too poor—reaching Green Membrane only by gorging on fish balls, the accumulated medicinal toxins entering his body and clouding his mind." Viper shrugged and sneered.
"Heh. Men who run the streets die sooner or later. Punk Ji merely left a step ahead of the rest of us... Which is exactly why I want to wash my hands in a golden basin." Third Master said in a low, distant voice.
* * *
Ten in the evening.
Chen's Noodle Factory.
Li Xiuwen came home wearing the ragged clothes he had bought on short notice in the Walled City.
His aunt and uncle were still at work in the factory.
"Ah Wen, all done practicing boxing with your friends?" His uncle asked with a smile.
"Mm. Uncle, it's late for you two—get some rest soon." Li Xiuwen said.
"Ah... I truly can't bear to part with these machines." His uncle said.
His aunt asked, hope in her voice: "Ah Wen, about our family's trouble—what did your friends at the Four Seas Martial Arts Hall say?"
Li Xiuwen shook his head and sighed. "No one is willing to get mixed up in it. These days everyone plays it safe and protects himself. Playing the hero brings nothing but trouble down on your own head."
"Then let's not trouble anyone. In three days we'll hand all these machines over to Brother Ji—sell them off cheap. Money lost wards off disaster." His uncle said.
"But without the machines, how do we earn a living? They're our lifeblood!" His aunt's eyes reddened, and soon she was sobbing.
His uncle's heart ached; he gathered her into his arms. "We'll do it all by hand. We'll just earn a little less. With the shop's signboard still standing, we can always keep you fed."
"We'll be fine—as long as we get a bite to eat, we won't starve... The problem is Ah Wen needs to learn boxing. We finally have something to hope for." His aunt's whole body trembled.
Suddenly she felt a broad, sturdy arm close around her.
Li Xiuwen wrapped his arms around his aunt and uncle. "There's always a way—don't panic. We still have three days, don't we?
A while back, when Brother Ji came to me for money, he let something slip: he said he seemed to have offended someone and gotten hurt.
Maybe heaven will claim a great villain like that in its own time. Maybe in a few days some passing wandering hero of justice will casually slap him dead."
His aunt said, "That's true. Once you step onto that road... sooner or later you pay it all back."
Chapter 19