Windfall

Chen's Noodle Factory. Li Xiuwen had already disposed of the mourning hemp and changed into loose casual clothes, returning home as if nothing had happened. Inside the house, his uncle and aunt had not yet gone to sleep. Knowing that Ah Wen had gone after Third Master, how could they not worry? "I'm back," Li Xiuwen said softly as he shut the door. His aunt peered out the window and whispered, "Is Third Master dead?" Li Xiuwen nodded. His uncle froze. Oppressed for years, the taut string within him had never slackened. Now that the three scourges were eliminated, it felt like a dream, completely unreal. His aunt said, "Ah Wen, you've really made something of yourself... Looks like you genuinely have a shot at next year's Crossing the River tournament." Before, she had thought Ah Wen was just talking. Now, when Ah Wen spoke of becoming the next "Mr. Wen," she believed it too. Li Xiuwen said with a serious expression, "Keep this strictly to yourselves. No matter who asks, say you know nothing. Third Master was Tong Gang, after all. Even if the Tong Gang is a loose sheet of sand, there's no guarantee someone wasn't backing him." His aunt and uncle nodded like chickens pecking at grain. "Don't worry. We've both nearly died before. This secret will definitely follow us into the grave." Li Xiuwen pulled out the banknotes he had taken from Third Master and counted them in front of his aunt and uncle, totaling twenty-four thousand dollars. To the vast majority of people at the bottom in Xianghai, this was a massive fortune. In times like these, honest work brought in no money. Seeing such a vast sum, his uncle and aunt were stunned—and even more heartbroken! Longjin Road was small, and the neighbors were all poor. Of this money, at least several thousand dollars had been squeezed out of their own family. This was money returning to its rightful owners. Li Xiuwen counted out a stack of bills and smiled. "Uncle, I'll pay you back ten thousand first. The rest I'll use for my cultivation. Once I make more money, I'll pay you back another ten thousand." "No need! We've already said we're family—what's this about paying us back?" His uncle shook his head, pushing the money away. His aunt agreed, "Ah Wen, practicing boxing costs a lot. You need this money more than we do. Keep it. Just knowing your heart is in the right place is enough for us." Li Xiuwen's tone brooked no argument. "The money I'm keeping is enough to fund my cultivation for a while. Take it. I know what our family's situation is like!" It was rare for his aunt and uncle to see Ah Wen pull a stern face, and they both lowered their heads. Li Xiuwen sighed. "I stopped being a child a long time ago. I know everything... "Three years ago, when I came to Shenghai, the little savings you had went toward paying my ransom. "Over the past three years, the factory's profits were bled dry layer by layer by triads and street punks, and payments for goods were constantly withheld. "I looked over the ledger. This year, our family brought in only a single payment for our goods, and then you used it to pay my initiation fee. "To keep the factory running, you even took on outside debt... Am I wrong about any of this?" His uncle nodded, his face full of gloom. His aunt rubbed her reddening eyes. Li Xiuwen's tone softened, and he sighed. "This ten thousand is enough to clear the debts and keep the factory afloat for now." His uncle nodded. "All right. We'll listen to you. I'll take the money." Li Xiuwen paused, hesitated for a moment, and said in a heavy voice, "By the way, Uncle... the other day, I saw the medical exam sheet from when you went to the big hospital outside the Walled City." At those words, his uncle's expression shifted slightly. He looked toward his aunt. "Didn't I tell you to put that away?" His aunt was so distressed she began to cry. "I... I did put it away!" Li Xiuwen's eyes reddened. "It has nothing to do with Aunt. My hearing is sharp—I heard you two talking and secretly searched for it myself. Uncle, why hide this from me? Did you think that doing so would lighten the burden on my martial training? You're wrong. I, Ah Wen, have no other kin in this world. I only have the two of you! If you were to pass away, I'd carry the grief for the rest of my life!" His uncle sighed. "It might just be from my working conditions. I'm fine—I just need to nurse my health. Doctors only know how to scare people so we spend money." Li Xiuwen shook his head. "Uncle, I'm not an idiot. An illness like this isn't something you can fix just by resting up at home. You need to go to a major hospital early to get treated. Take part of this ten thousand, find a good doctor, and buy some medicine. If it's not enough, come ask me, and I'll find a way. Treat this as an urgent matter and get your health in order. Major illnesses only come from ignoring minor ones and dragging them out. "Besides, all these years, you and Aunt have never had children. Could it be because you haven't taken care of your body? I know Aunt has always wanted a child; she's already sewn several pairs of little tiger-head shoes. You aren't getting any younger. Now that my martial arts are coming along, I can take care of myself. You two need to start thinking more about yourselves. Find a wellness martial hall—you don't have to train for fighting, just learn some nourishing fist techniques to strengthen your constitution. Eat better nourishment every day, too. Aunt is thirty-five already. If you delay any longer, it'll only get harder." Li Xiuwen said a great deal that night, nagging just like his parents in his past life. He had known many of these things before, but lacking the capability, speaking up would have been useless. Now that he had some ability, he was the head of this household, and they had to listen to him! "All right, then I'll take it. If you ever run short on money, Ah Wen, just ask me," his uncle said with a chuckle, wiping his moist eyes. Li Xiuwen smiled. "With Third Master dead, we can hold our heads high. Life will get better." His aunt could no longer hold back and wept. This time, it was out of deep emotion—the release of years of bottled-up grievances. "Ah Wen, thank you," his aunt said, hugging him. "Without you two, I would have died in the snake pit long ago. Don't say such things ever again." "All right. You be careful in the days ahead too, Ah Wen. Don't provoke anyone we can't afford to cross. For our family to live in peace and safety, well-fed and well-provided for—that's what matters most." "I know... All right, you two get some rest early. I'm going to sleep too." After comforting his aunt, Li Xiuwen returned to his room. He had been somewhat upset today precisely because of his uncle's condition; even with the medical technology of his past life, a cure might not have been guaranteed. "Sigh..." He shook his head, pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind for now. Lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, he planned out how to spend the remaining fourteen thousand. First was buying fish balls—at least one a week. Even though they contained accumulated medicinal toxins, their boost to stake training was undeniable. The cost lay in the future, but people in the Walled City had no future; Li Xiuwen only wanted to live well in the present. Second, he would raise his daily expenditure on hard qigong from twenty dollars to one hundred dollars. His current Blood-Transforming Paste was of the lowest grade. While functional, it drained too much of the body's latent potential; its medicinal potency was too weak, unable to keep up with replenishing what was lost. Switching to better medicine would both accelerate his progress in hard qigong and allow for sustainable cultivation, avoiding hidden injuries down the line. A martial art at the level of the Armor-Binding Art was a treasured secret even in major triads. It was one of his greatest trump cards, and he had to push it to minor success as quickly as possible! Tallying the numbers a bit more, Li Xiuwen felt a pang of despair. These ten-odd thousand dollars wouldn't last very long at all—just barely enough to sustain him until the second-floor contest. No wonder people said martial artists seemed to make good money, but in reality had barely a coin in their pockets—every last one was dirt poor. There was no helping it; everything was invested into strength, with countless expenses under endless pretexts. "This money can only handle emergencies; it doesn't cure the root problem. During next month's challenge visit, I have to perform well! "Once I learn a movement technique, my chances of entering the second floor will increase by a bit. If I succeed, that alone will save quite a sum in monthly fees every year."