Chapter 28: Chapter 28 Clouds and Mud
Editor: Larbre Studio

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Saint Mary’s Hospital in Hong Kong

After being out of the spotlight for three entire chapters, Li Yan finally breathed a sigh of relief, once again returning to his rhythm.

The chaos that had reigned in Kowloon Walled City for several days was about to subside. Those still standing in the place seemed to have no losers; He Liansheng had replaced Wu Haoxi, with all the interests of the major and minor gangs in Hong Kong touched. A large chunk of business had freed up in Kowloon Walled City, and even Taishuai had adhered to her usual principle: “Don’t mess with me.”

Everyone was happy…

Li Yan, holding a fruit basket, arrived at the ward’s door just in time to hear Shanjiu’s loud voice.

“Zhou, I really had no idea about this beforehand. That day, Le suddenly came to the City wanting to watch you fight. Of course, I was happy about it. Then, seeing you get knocked down by that jerk, I got angry and caused trouble at Fuyi. I didn’t know Le already had a plan.”

Zhou, lying in the hospital bed, had a pale face and heavy eyelids.

“Shanjiu, I don’t mean anything by it, I also took an oath to Guan Gong before joining the brotherhood, I wouldn’t doubt a brother. Now that it’s come to this, whatever you say, I’ll believe. You say you didn’t know about Taizi Le’s plan, I won’t ask anymore.”

Shanjiu, leaning on a crutch, was about to say something when he caught sight of Li Yan gently knocking on the glass door.

“You dare to show up?” Shanjiu’s eyes reddened.

Li Yan walked in and put the fruit basket on the table. He leisurely grabbed a stool for himself while he addressed Shanjiu.

“Shanjiu, grievances have their source and debts their debtor. Your leg was broken by Red Ghost, Zhou was injured by Xu Tianci. The night Kowloon Walled City had trouble, I was outside the City fighting all night over paikamkhau (the nickname for small steel marbles). No matter how you calculate it, this debt shouldn’t fall on my head, right?”

“You are Taishuai…”

“Taishuai is Taishuai; I am me. At best, I’m just a fighter trying to earn my keep on her fighting stage, trading my life for money.”

Shanjiu was momentarily at a loss for words. Li Yan continued speaking.

“Shanjiu, if you don’t mind, shall we two martial artists have a word in private?”

Zhou’s gaze had been fixed on Li Yan since he entered. Hearing this, he nodded at Shanjiu, who glared at Li Yan but still left with a grimace.

Li Yan picked up a fruit knife from the table and started expertly peeling an apple while asking, “How’s the injury, no lingering problems?”

“Got medical attention in time. The arm was reattached. It might hurt when it’s rainy or cold, and I’ll have to lie in bed for half a year, but it’s nothing serious.”

Li Yan silently listened. Zhou spoke lightly, but Li Yan understood that Zhou, having had his arm broken, would never regain full strength in that hand. His martial arts skills were mostly gone—it was as if he was finished.

As he peeled the apple, Li Yan said, “Retire from it all. Once this incident is over, whatever you owe them will be paid off.”

Zhou smiled weakly. “Did you come here just to tell me this?”

“Yes!” Li Yan said forcefully, unconsciously putting strength into his hand as he did so, and the long apple peel fell into the trash can.

“In my current state, there’s no difference whether I retire or not,” Zhou said, still managing a smile. “You should look after yourself.”

Li Yan handed the apple over, but Zhou slightly shook his head.

“Can’t digest it; my intestines would rot. I can only live on glucose drip now.”

Li Yan put the apple to his mouth, expressionless, and forcefully bit into it.

The two sat in silence.

After all, Li Yan and Zhou Wei’an didn’t have a deep friendship to speak of, and neither was inclined to make a shallow relationship seem deep, so the atmosphere quickly grew heavy. The only sound was Li Yan silently munching on the apple.

After a long while, Li Yan stood up.

“I’m off; rest well.”

“Master Li.”

As he walked to the door, Zhou suddenly called out to Li Yan from behind.

“Thank you.”

Li Yan paused, then left the room without looking back.

…

After leaving the room, the somberness that had enveloped Li Yan also dissipated. The brief encounter, like passers-by in a foreign land, who would lament those who have lost their way in the impassable mountains? Zhou had exited the stage, but he himself was still in the game.

Shanjiu, holding onto his crutches, lit a cigarette in the hallway,

“Sir, you can’t smoke in the hospital,” a nurse in white rubber-soled shoes approached and said.

Shanjiu exhaled deeply, glared at the nurse, but ultimately snuffed out the cigarette. He saw Li Yan coming out, approached him leaning on his crutches, and called out, “What did you say to Zhou?”

Li Yan did not answer but got straight to the point, “Shanjiu, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Ask me for a favor?” Shanjiu laughed in disbelief. “You got brain damage from a fever or what? Why should I help Taishuai’s people?”

“`

Li Yan laughed and straightened Hua Shanjiu’s shirt for him. “I’ve said before that Taishuai is Taishuai, and I am me. I’ve been in Hong Kong for less than a month, just scraping by for food. Whether it’s Taishuai or He Liansheng, I don’t want to take sides. Brother Shanjiu manages an entire district’s worth of people; surely he’s not like those reckless figures, always playing tough without seeing clearly, allowing themselves to be blinded by misplaced loyalty, and getting played by others.”

By the end, Li Yan’s tone was mocking.

Hearing this, Hua Shanjiu’s expression cooled: “Even so, I have no reason to help you.”

Li Yan lowered his head and sniffled softly, whispering to Hua Shanjiu, “Today, He Liansheng was holding a banquet and offering a toast as an apology from Taizi Le to Taishuai. After tonight, Taizi Le can go home and sleep peacefully, right?”

“What are you trying to say?”

Li Yan thought of Yu Shu’s words at the banquet and said indifferently, “The profits that He Liansheng has given to other gangs include a share for Taishuai.”

Hua Shanjiu’s pupils dilated, and he stared intently at Li Yan.

Success!

Li Yan said no more but just looked at Hua Shanjiu with a smiling gaze.

Hua Shanjiu suppressed the displeasure in his heart and asked coldly, “What do you want me to help with?”

“I’d like Brother Shanjiu to help me find something. Also, I’d like to have a talk with Taizi Le.”

“What the hell is it?”

“It’s very simple, just a piece of paper.”

…

Kowloon, Cheung Sha Wan Road, No. 2, Block C, the Wing Chun Martial Arts Hall.

Xu Tianci sat restlessly below the stage, watching his fellow disciples practice their punches.

An old man sat opposite him, with a chessboard filled with black and white characters between them.

“Tianci, you need to concentrate when playing chess.”

The old man always had a habit of glancing downward at the corners of his mouth, looking quite stern.

Xu Tianci pursed his lips and picked up a black piece, letting it fall with precision.

The old man shook his head as a white piece fell, gradually cornering the black pieces.

“You look forward without considering the consequences. It’s the same with boxing and with chess, no improvement at all.”

Xu Tianci stuck out his tongue but said nothing.

“I heard you went on the ring and severely injured a Master of Wensheng Fist. Seems you’ve also stirred up trouble.”

Xu Tianci studied the chessboard, placing his piece while saying, “Grandfather, you caused quite a bit of trouble back in your day, didn’t you?”

“Impudent boy, now you’re listing my faults,” the old man said with a laugh and a curse before pausing and adding, “Don’t go there anymore.”

Xu Tianci responded with silence, his fingers holding several black pieces.

“You always talk about ascending the ring and accepting life or death without resentment, but some people fight on the ring to make a living. These people die on the ring without holding any grudges. But you fight for pride; your death in the ring would be pointless.”

“Grandfather.”

Xu Tianci touched his chin, pondering the chess game, and said:

“I’ve been practicing martial arts for over a decade and never understood why. To strengthen the body? To protect the country? But why do we always have to defend, to guard? Why do we, practitioners of Chinese martial arts, always have to be the challenged party? Why must we wait for someone to challenge us, insult us by name, and only then do we don our traditional garments and retaliate unhurriedly? Why wait for the ‘Sick Man of East Asia’ label to be slapped on us before we desperately argue that Chinese martial arts should not be insulted? How touching. Why can’t I take the initiative to promote my skills, to fight because I’m stronger? Why can’t I challenge other schools? To the extent that the whole of Hong Kong knows my name, to make them fear the words ‘Wing Chun,’ to stop them from gossiping.”

Xu Tianci spoke lightly and quickly, his pupils slightly reddened.

The old man sighed, at a loss for words momentarily, only managing a wry smile, “At your age, you’re still walking in the clouds.”

Xu Tianci laughed: “Grandfather, I’m only nineteen. I surely can’t bury my face in the mud so soon, right?” As he spoke, he made another move.

The old man was taken aback; as Tianci’s piece fell, the previously stable situation on the board was suddenly torn open, and Xu Tianci’s aggressive style revealed a compelling aura.

The old man looked at the board for a long time, then at the smiling young face before him and suddenly felt that he had never truly understood this child.

“Grandpa, I won,” Xu Tianci grinned, revealing his canine teeth.

The old man’s lips trembled slightly, his heart a mix of three parts relief, three parts sorrow, and four parts bitterness. It took a while before he bit back his words:

“If you break, don’t come looking for me.”

“Once on the ring,” Xu Tianci’s words hammered down like nails into the ground.

“Life and death without resentment!”