Chapter 3: 003 — Wind and Rain at Tianjin

They came to a back alley out of the sun and the two siblings sat down against a wall.

With filthy hands, Zhao Zhenfang cupped the last tiny pinch of steamed bun. "Second Brother, you eat it. I'm already full."

Zhao Han did not refuse. Instead he laughed cheerfully, split the morsel — hardly enough to fill a gap between teeth — into two again, and handed half back to his sister. "We'll share."

"Mm."

Zhao Zhenfang tore off a crumb of bun and put it in her mouth. She could not bear to chew it, nor to swallow, and only let her tongue savour the fragrance of the food.

Seeing Zhao Han watching her, Zhao Zhenfang seemed to forget her grief and smiled brightly. "Second Brother, steamed bun is so delicious."

Zhao Han stroked the top of his sister's head and made a promise. "Once Second Brother earns some money, you'll have steamed bun to eat every day."

"That would be wonderful," Zhao Zhenfang said, her eyes full of longing.

After coaxing his little sister to sleep, the smile on Zhao Han's face vanished at once. He picked up the dog-beating staff and began grinding it against the ground. He still had little strength, and shaping the weapon was slow, but one end of the staff was gradually sharpened to a point.

A crude bamboo spear took shape — in a critical moment, it could kill.

The experience just now had driven home to Zhao Han that, besides the ever-present threat of starvation, countless other hidden dangers lay in wait for him.

Stroking the bamboo spear, Zhao Han at last felt a measure of safety, a delusion that he could take control of his own fate.

At dusk, Zhao Zhenfang woke — hunger had woken her again.

Zhao Han leaned on the bamboo spear with one hand and supported his sister with the other as they made their way along the street.

Having each eaten half a steamed bun and rested for half the day, the siblings had recovered a little strength — at least they no longer had to crawl like dogs when begging.

They came to the back door of a certain household. Zhao Han pounded on it for a good while before someone finally came to open it. Before he could even open his mouth to beg, the person took one look at the siblings and slammed the door shut with a bang.

They knocked at four or five more houses along the way; only one did not shut the door in their faces at once.

"Kind lady, have mercy and spare a mouthful of food. May the bodhisattva bless you with a hundred years of long life," Zhao Han hastily recited the auspicious words.

The woman said, "There's truly nothing left to eat in this house. Go beg somewhere else."

A humble household, in a year of famine — they could not even feed themselves; where would they find food to give to the poor and beggars?

Seeing that no food was to be had, Zhao Han added, "Could you spare a drink of water? We're terribly thirsty."

The woman was kind-hearted and, after all, did not refuse. "Wait here."

The main door closed.

A moment later, the woman opened the door again. She had ladled out a gourdful of clear water. Frowning, she asked, "Where are your begging bowls?"

Zhao Han made up an excuse on the spot. "Some beggars smashed them. They won't let me beg around here."

The woman's pity deepened. She handed over the water gourd. "Here, take it and drink."

Zhao Han let his little sister drink her fill first, then poured the remaining clear water down his own throat. Returning the gourd, he bowed with clasped hands and said, "Many thanks, benefactor!"

"A young master fallen on hard times. Ah!" The woman sighed and closed the door.

So young, yet already versed in courtesy — how could he be anything but a young master fallen on hard times?

After drinking, Zhao Han finally felt somewhat revived. He did not go on begging in that back alley, but made his way all the way to Dock East Street, the most prosperous spot in all of Tianjin.

Night had already fallen, yet North Dock East Street blazed with lantern light.

Because cargo boats had run aground on the canal, a great number of merchants were stranded here. The inns had long been packed; some wealthy traders, unable to find lodging, simply took up residence in the pleasure houses outside the north city wall.

Beyond the canal, the land was full of famine victims, but Dock East Street bloomed like a garden of flowers, and from the eating houses drifted wave after wave of wine and meat fragrance.

Zhao Han chose a winehouse and crouched by the entrance, waiting for a wealthy patron.

He had barely settled into place when a waiter came out, brandishing a stick to drive him off. "Little beggar, get lost, quick!"

Zhao Han hurriedly said, "My ancestors were imperial chefs. I have a secret family recipe. Only ten taels of silver…"

"Scram!" The waiter raised his stick and struck.

Zhao Han blocked it with his bamboo spear held crosswise and retreated with his sister, step by step, until they stood far off, waiting for a wealthy patron to bestow a meal.

In the end, they got no food, but instead stirred up a swarm of beggars.

The beggar Zhao Han had bitten to death earlier had mainly worked North Dock Street. Dock East Street, by contrast, was the territory of another band of beggars. They belonged to the same beggar gang but were under a different minor headman.

These beggars were a stronger force — more than a dozen of them came looking for trouble.

Zhao Han shielded his sister and stood with his back to the wall, holding the bamboo spear in a bayonet-fighting stance. He taunted them, "Come on!"

One beggar raised his stick to strike, but with no technique at all — he simply swung the dog-beating club high over his head.

Zhao Han's feet did not move. He merely leaned forward and, with one thrust, stabbed the man in the thigh.

That beggar clutched his wound and screamed. The rest of the beggars attacked all at once. Zhao Han stabbed several in succession. But he had little strength, and he had to protect his sister — he himself took a few blows from the sticks.

"He's trained! Go back and report to the 'Marquis'!"

The beggars cried out in alarm and scattered in an instant. By force of arms, Zhao Han had won temporary begging rights on Dock East Street.

Just then, a wealthy merchant, sated with wine and food, emerged from the winehouse and witnessed the fine show of the beggar brawl. He clapped his hands in applause and said drunkenly, "A lively scrap! A reward, on my honour!"

The servant beside the rich merchant grabbed a handful of copper cash and tossed it casually in front of Zhao Han.

"Many thanks for the master's reward." Zhao Han was overjoyed. By the faint light spilling from the winehouse, he and his sister crouched on the ground to pick up the coins.

Copper cash came in good and bad quality; the ones they got this time were all good coin.

The siblings, long faint with hunger, hurried off at once to buy food — big Tianjin steamed buns stuffed with meat!

Zhao Zhenfang's cheeks bulged as she ate, exactly like a little hamster guarding its food. Chewing, she said, "So delicious, even better than steamed bun!"

At last able to eat his fill for once, Zhao Han was also quite happy. He smiled. "Another day, when I get my hands on some silver, Second Brother will buy you something even tastier — roast duck."

Zhao Zhenfang looked at him with pure admiration. "Second Brother is so amazing. Father always said you have a clever mind…" Her voice stopped abruptly. The little girl's expression darkened. "Second Brother, are Father and Mother already dead? I know what dead means. It's like Eldest Brother — they fall asleep and never wake up."

Zhao Han held his sister's thin, frail body and comforted her. "Don't be afraid. Second Brother is here."

"Mm, I'm not afraid." Zhao Zhenfang nodded, sobbing. The sobs gradually turned to weeping, and the tears left two pale streaks down her mud-caked little face.

She cried for who knows how long before she finally fell asleep.

Zhao Han's mind, however, was in utter turmoil. He had no idea how to carve out a future for himself — could it be that he would live out his days as a beggar?

…

West Street of the dock district.

A beggar knocked on a commoner's door, walked straight into the main hall, knelt, kowtowed, and said, "Lord Marquis, we have word — those two little bastards went into Maliu Lane."

"Lord Hou" was a jianghu nickname. His real name was Deng Gui; he came from a military household and had fled hardship to become a beggar.

While fighting for turf in Tianjin's dock district, someone had gouged out one of his eyes. At first they called him "One-Eyed Dragon," later changed it to "Little Xiahou," and now every beggar in the dock district respectfully addressed him as "Lord Hou."

Both groups of beggars Zhao Han had encountered were Lord Hou Deng Gui's men. This fellow controlled all the begging operations outside the north city wall, with a little petty thievery on the side.

Deng Gui was just sitting down to eat with his family — one wife, two concubines, and five children.

He set down his chopsticks and said, "Send a few men first to seal off both ends of the lane. Don't let him get away. Once you catch him, break his legs on the spot!"

In a single day, one of his men had been bitten to death, and over a dozen more had been beaten and driven off — and the troublemaker was a child. Where would that leave the face of the "Beggar Chief"?

Boom—!

A sudden muffled roll of thunder came, and everyone inside the house rejoiced.

Deng Gui walked out into the small courtyard himself and said with a smile, "Drought for months — the Old Lord in Heaven is finally going to send rain."

One of his beggar underlings asked, "Lord Hou, how about we move tomorrow instead?"

Deng Gui nodded. "Tomorrow is fine, but send someone to keep watch. I'm afraid that little whelp might run."

They were just a bunch of beggars, after all — they really didn't dare work in the rain. If they fell ill from the soaking, they had no money at all for treatment.

Boom—!

Lightning lit up the courtyard, thunder rolled from far to near, and a fierce gust of wind suddenly swept through.

……

Zhao Zhenfang was startled awake by the thunder. Enjoying the gusts of cool wind, she said with delight, "Second Brother, it's going to rain."

Zhao Han stood up and said, "Come on, let's find somewhere to shelter from the rain first."

The two siblings had eaten their fill and rested for a long while; they were no longer weak. Hand in hand, they groped through the darkness, searching for a place that could shield them from wind and rain.

Ma Wu was a newly recruited beggar who had to pay tribute to the organization every day.

If he failed to beg any food, not only would he go hungry, he'd also get a savage beating from the headman.

The Beggar Sect's structure was loose, and with rain clearly coming tonight, by the time orders from above reached the bottom ranks, they had completely changed form.

Each man passed the buck to the next, until only Ma Wu was left to handle it alone. He was supposed to keep watch on Zhao Han and his sister all night.

All he knew was that the targets had entered Maliu Lane. In pitch darkness, where was he supposed to find them?

Ma Wu wandered around the streets and lanes for a while. He had mild night blindness and couldn't possibly track anyone at night — it was like sending a blind man to be a scout.

"Fuck his mother, they're all out to bully me. I'm not that stupid!"

Ma Wu sat down under the eaves of a doorway, where he could just barely keep out of the rain, and decided he'd get a good sleep first.

Just as he was daydreaming of feasts of fish and meat, Ma Wu suddenly heard footsteps. He hurriedly opened his eyes and wiped the drool from his mouth.

The footsteps came closer and closer, but Ma Wu could barely make anything out.

A bolt of lightning tore across the night sky.

Zhao Han caught a glimpse of someone huddled under the doorway eaves. He stepped forward and asked, "Uncle, is there any rundown temple around here?"

Ma Wu answered without thinking, "Far from here — the City God Temple is off to the southeast."

Zhao Han studied the spot carefully and saw that the eaves were not wide; heavy rain would certainly blow in with the wind. So he took his sister and went looking for a better place.

Ma Wu froze for a moment, then suddenly caught on. He quietly crept along behind the two siblings.

This fellow clearly had no idea what tailing someone meant, and with his night blindness affecting his vision, the racket he made was obvious even to a fool.

After walking a while, Zhao Han suddenly spun around, strode quickly up to Ma Wu, and demanded, "Why are you following me?"

"N-no… I'm not," Ma Wu flatly denied.

Zhao Han immediately leveled his bamboo spear, the tip pressed against the man's throat, and barked, "Talk!"

Ma Wu instantly remembered the rumors — just that noon, a headman had been bitten to death over on North Street. The boy in front of him really would kill. His legs went weak with terror, and he dropped to his knees with a thud. "Little ancestor, spare me!"

"Out with it!" Zhao Han's expression was grim.

Ma Wu spilled everything like beans pouring from a bamboo tube, telling all he knew: "You killed one of Lord Hou's men. Lord Hou has people searching everywhere for you. He said once you're caught, break your legs on the spot. You're both children — with broken legs you'll be even better for begging. Lord Hou won't kill you."

Break his legs and his sister's legs to make them beg?

Zhao Han suppressed the fury rising in his heart and asked, "Who is Lord Hou?"

Ma Wu answered, "Lord Hou is Lord Hou. All the beggars around North Dock answer to him."

Zhao Han asked, "The Beggar Sect chief?"

"Beggar Sect?" Ma Wu shook his head and corrected him. "We're the Lotus Society."

Zhao Han pressed on. "This Lord Hou — is he just a beggar boss, or does he have some other identity?"

Ma Wu said, "Just a begging boss. He doesn't do his own begging anymore."

Zhao Han asked, "You said the dock area is Lord Hou's turf. What about the rest of Tianjin?"

Ma Wu answered, "Not the other parts. Lord Hou only controls the stretch from the north city wall to North Dock."

The thunder grew more urgent, and raindrops began to fall.

Zhao Han suddenly fell silent. His hands, gripping the spear, loosened then tightened again. He was analyzing his current situation.

First, chaotic times were about to arrive.

Second, he and his sister were very young.

Two small children — they had to think hard about how to survive the coming chaos.

Exactly which year it was, Zhao Han could no longer remember clearly.

In any case, if not next year, then the year after, or perhaps the year after that, the Jurchen army would break through the passes and sweep unstoppably to the very walls of Beijing.

When that happened, with war and chaos everywhere, Tianjin probably wouldn't be safe either.

If Zhao Han had transmigrated as a twenty-year-old, he would have had many options — he could even have run off to Shaanxi to join the peasant uprisings.

But he was only ten years old now, and he was still dragging along a six-year-old little sister.

The only choice was to look for a chance to head south, and first grow to adulthood in the peaceful Jiangnan before anything else.

Besides, with the Little Ice Age, the northern winters were too cold — going south, he wouldn't freeze to death so easily.

The matter of heading south could wait for now. Right before his eyes, someone wanted to break his legs and turn him into a begging tool!

Zhao Han straightened his back. The lost look in his eyes slowly hardened into resolve. He demanded sharply, "Speak — where does that Marquis live!"

(Author's note: Three chapters on the first day, then two chapters daily after that, updating on schedule at noon and 8 p. m. Also, generous lords who intend to tip may hold off until next Monday to tip, to help boost the rankings then.)

(End of chapter)