Chapter 78: with translation of chapter title

The next day, as the sky was just faintly light, I, Pangzi, and Yuan Qiu packed our luggage, intending to take a vehicle to Shenzhen's Shekou pier, then transfer to a ferry to Aomen.

Shenzhen is not far from Hong Kong and Aomen; taking a ferry to either place is only a one- to two-hour journey. However, the span across Shenzhen's several districts is quite large; traveling from one district to another, if not driving oneself, takes even longer than the trip from Shenzhen to Hong Kong and Aomen.

Besides me, Pangzi, and Yuan Qiu, this journey also included Murong Jiaja, Little Fat, and Red Granny.

Along the way, Yuan Qiu either read books or fell asleep with his head down, while I and Pangzi were studying Huaguang's martial arts.

Only then did I understand why Pangzi got so excited at the chance to go far away—because he had been terribly abused by Yang Qiye.

Even before becoming his disciple, Yang Qiye had passed on a set of secret Daoist Sect acupuncture techniques to Pangzi. However, the transmission process was hardly admirable; to make Pangzi recognize the acupoints clearly, Yang Qiye actually let Pangzi serve as a guinea pig himself. As for the acupoints, comfort naturally comes with pain; to let him know the consequences of needling the wrong point, Yang Qiye truly went through a lot of bitter effort.

After pouring out his bitterness to me, Pangzi then leisurely explained the martial arts he had learned; as brothers, we spoke without reservation. It was precisely this unreserved account by Pangzi that opened my eyes.

I had always thought Huaguang's martial arts consisted only of a few categories of point striking and Xuan striking, but after Pangzi's popularization to me, I realized I had been wrong—mistaken to an absurd degree, like a frog at the bottom of a well.

Huaguang's martial arts have long been the outstanding among folk Dharma teachings, sharing a wonderful similarity with the Jiangxi folk tradition of the Five Hundred Cash. Besides the Five Thunder Point Strike and Divine Strike, there are also Secret Strike, Reverse Staff Strike, Shadow Strike, Rooting, and the Thousand‑Pound Methods, …

Compared to point striking, Xuan striking, the Secret Strike method is even more fierce, called the hidden hand of martial arts; its cruelty makes one's scalp tingle. The Five Thunder Point Strike is executed with the hands, while the Secret Strike is carried out with the feet—silent and undetectable, leaving one defenseless. In the Jiangxi Five Hundred Cash tradition, this technique is called Yin Five Thunder.

This technique far surpasses Xuan striking; the practitioner walks silently past you without moving a hand, and you inexplicably fall victim to a Yin strike, collapsing dead upon reaching home. However, this method is not easily employed and is very difficult to master. In the present age, those who know this Secret Strike hidden hand are few and far between, and they are all quite elderly, unwilling to lightly engage in combat, let alone strike to harm others.

Staff Strike: one draws floral characters on the staff, and any weapon that clashes with it shatters. This method once shone brightly in the Boxer Rebellion at the end of the Qing dynasty, but it was only useful in the era of cold weapons; in the age of foreign guns and cannons, it is rather useless.

Shadow Strike, as the name suggests, involves drawing floral characters on the hand and directing it at a shadow; it also belongs to the silent, undetectable hidden hand. Rooting, also called Body Fixing, when struck on a vehicle's body causes the engine to stall immediately; in the countryside it is often used to immobilize chickens and ducks, tested on animals, and of course this method can also be used to fix ghosts.

Besides these, there are also some long‑range martial arts that are equally sharp. However, one must not assume that because martial arts are so fierce they can be used to harm people at will. The taboos here are significant; as people often say, greater ability brings greater responsibility, and the karmic burden grows accordingly—this saying is certainly not baseless.

If a disciple wishes to use martial arts to punish evildoers, they must first cast divination before the altar to seek the patriarch's permission. Only if the patriarch agrees may they employ martial arts to punish evildoers. If the patriarch disagrees and the disciple nevertheless forces the technique, they will immediately incur the Five Faults and Three Deficiencies, harming both others and themselves.

"By the way, Pangzi, what did the Yin master who possessed Master Yang Qiye last night say? Why did he say you are both Buddha and Asura?" After exchanging our martial arts insights, I couldn't help but recall the two sentences the Yin master left us last night.

Although I don't really understand this sentence, from its literal meaning I feel it is an ill omen. Since returning last night, this sentence has weighed on my mind, making me feel depressed all night.

Pangzi stretched, shrugged, and said with a grin: "Who knows? Perhaps that Yin master noticed I am a Buddha child and left me these words."

Pangzi's words startled me greatly,

"You… you are a Buddha‑child destiny?" I asked in surprise.

Pangzi nodded and said naturally: "Yes, although my father forbade me from telling anyone since I was young, I think it's fine. After all, you and I are both childlike beings."

"Holy shit, why didn't you tell me before?" I glared at him angrily; this is totally unfair. We're both childlike beings, so why does he know my secret while I know nothing about him?

"You never asked?" Pangzi replied innocently, and in an instant I felt choked, nearly coughing on my own saliva.

That's right, I never asked him…

Time slipped away unnoticed in our idle chatter, and our party arrived at Shenzhen's Shekou pier; after getting off the vehicle, the three of us transferred to a ferry bound for Aomen.

Yuan Qiu briefly told us what had happened, saying our main purpose this trip was to set up the yang residence layout for the boss named Chen Zheng; we needn't worry about anything else, and once we reach Aomen someone will naturally meet us.

The ferry stopped at the Aomen harbor; after disembarking, the water‑fearing Pangzi staggered, almost vomiting from seasickness.

Not far away, there was a black Audi sedan; after Yuan Qiu got off the ferry, he waved to a figure standing by the Audi.

He is a middle‑aged man about forty years old; what draws attention is his chin, full of bristly stubble, standing out like a forest of spears, like the spines on a hedgehog. When he smiles, he gives a very rugged impression.

Yuan Qiu called this middle‑aged man Uncle Zhang; from their conversation it was clear that Uncle Zhang and Yuan Qiu were close friends, and for this Aomen trip Uncle Zhang served as the intermediary introducing Yuan Qiu to Chen Zheng.

In the Audi, Yuan Qiu asked Uncle Zhang, who was sitting in the driver's seat: "Uncle Zhang, shall we go see Brother Zheng now?"

While driving, Uncle Zhang generally shook his head and said: "Uncle Zhang may have some seniority in the Eastern Mausoleum, but I still lack the authority to speak before Brother Zheng. Uncle Zhang is now taking you to see a person, who will then take you to see Brother Zheng."

He worried that Yuan Qiu lacked confidence, and then said to Yuan Qiu: "Don't worry, Uncle Zhang has taken care of most things. As long as the feng shui master you bring is reliable, settling things at Shenghe is a sure thing."

To keep us from feeling bored, Uncle Zhang introduced us to the local customs and scenery of Aomen while driving.

When we went to Aomen at that time, Aomen had not yet been returned and still belonged to Portugal. Two languages were prevalent in Aomen: one was Cantonese vernacular, the other Portuguese. Very few people in Aomen spoke Mandarin. If you were unfamiliar with both languages, communication in Aomen would be difficult.

In this place, Aomen, what is most famous is gambling. There are casinos of all sizes, lottery stalls, and countless other venues; gambling is legal here, making it a paradise for all gamblers.

Under the influence of this black‑market industry chain, another profession emerged: gangster societies.

Since it's a casino, there must be floor supervisors; most of the casinos here are overseen by certain societies—apart from local gangs, Hong Kong Triads are also mixed in. They were introduced by Aomen's number‑one gambling king, He …

Eastern Mausoleum is one of the two major societies native to Aomen, and Chen Zheng is its leader.

Uncle Zhang, worried we would be bored, besides introducing local customs, also told us Chen Zheng's story.

This is a gangster warlord who debuted at sixteen, also a native of Guangdong. At sixteen he had the impressive feat of single‑handedly wiping out a small gang in Guangdong; when he fled to Aomen, he still carried several lives on his hands. Later, he was noticed and adopted as a foster son by the former head of Eastern Mausoleum, Murong Dong. Following Murong Dong on three campaigns into Vietnam, he returned unscathed.

Later, he shone brightly in the struggle for territory between Thai gangs and Aomen's native gangs, leading the Eastern Mausoleum's Heavenly Stem unit to wipe out Thailand's top gang in a single night, dragging the society from Aomen to Thailand; the society's commander‑in‑chief, unable to hold out, personally came to negotiate and swore that as long as Chen Zheng remained in Aomen for a single day, his gang would never set foot in Aomen again.

The youthful warlord thus became famous overnight, relying on Haohao's merits and his extraordinary wisdom; after the old leader died, Chen Zheng took over as the new leader of Aomen.

In Aomen. Perhaps some may not know who the Aomen governor is, but everyone knows Chen Zheng. He is one of the underground legends of Aomen, holding sway over the Lisbon casino and striking awe throughout Aomen. He is the victor in a deadly combat boxing match, bearing the title of "Number One Boxing King". In that deadly combat tournament, twelve participants who had earned the boxing king title entered, yet without exception they all fell to Chen Zheng.

People gave this youthful warlord the title Southern Heavenly King. Standing alongside the Fierce Tiger Gang's Northern Tiger Howls the Sky, they are famed as the two great legends of Aomen's underworld.

Before that, I had always been dismissive of him. The underworld, you know—since childhood, the education I received had labeled him as a synonym for darkness; anyone associated with him was no good. Even though Uncle Zhang's description was vivid, deep down I still didn't have a good impression of him.

However, when Uncle Zhang led us out of the car and into Aomen's Gate Front Street and we saw this, I finally realized how different Chen Zheng was.

On the street I saw several thugs arguing together, even pulling out knives ready to fight; in the alley corner two patrol officers witnessed it all, yet they pretended not to see anything and didn't intervene.

Instead, a vegetable vendor dared to shout loudly at these two groups.

"Go fight wherever you like, don't block my business here!"

I was quite surprised then, because in my impression, ordinary street vendors usually avoid these ruffian thugs like the plague; how could someone be so foolish as to dare scold them?

As I had imagined, one of the thugs grabbed and pointed at the vegetable vendor old man, asking him: "You motherfucker, aren't you tired of living?"

Just as I was feeling terrified for the old man, he calmly said: "I'm kindly reminding you, this street is managed by Brother Zheng. Don't forget the rules Brother Zheng set down—no selling dumplings here, and certainly no causing trouble."

What happened next left me dumbfounded. The two thugs who had pulled out watermelon knives, upon hearing the vegetable vendor old man's words, actually all put their knives away.

One of them muttered to his companion: "We'd better leave; Brother Zheng's words are no joke—we can't afford to offend him."

A dispute actually ended just because of that sentence—I was so shocked my jaw almost dropped.

Later I learned that Chen Zheng was not only a legend in Aomen's underworld, but also an anomaly among organized crime. In the streets under his control, there were absolutely no drugs, no vice, only gambling—no one dared sell drugs here, no one dared open pornographic venues forcing women into prostitution, and no one dared cause trouble. Some say the streets Chen Zheng manages are as clear as spring water; to the residents he feels less like a gangster and more like a police officer who eliminates violence and upholds the good.

In the middle of the street, Uncle Zhang ran into an acquaintance—someone sent by the triad headquarters to collect protection money. The street vendors and shopkeepers not only happily handed over the cash, but also greeted him and invited him to eat.

Later, when a seventy-year-old old lady came up, the elderly woman trembled as she pulled out a few crumpled bills from her pocket. The thug collecting protection money not only refused to take them, but instead took a few bills from the protection fees he had gathered and shoved them into the old woman's hand.

"I told you, Madam Zhang, Brother Zheng and my lot who collect protection have said before—we can't take money from old folks like you; next time you see me, bring out the cash! I know from hearing the talk that I'll get chewed out again. Here I've given you some loose paper—first tuck it away; I know your trade is good, and you also have a few grandsons who need to study, so take this for emergency use."

Translation: "Old Lady Zhang, Brother Zheng has ordered us, the protection money collectors, that we absolutely cannot take money from you old folks. So next time you see me coming, you must under no circumstances take out money, otherwise if the higher-ups find out they'll scold me to death. Here's some spare cash; take it first. I know your business hasn't been good lately, and you have a few grandsons who need to go to school, so you old lady take this to tide over."

I admit, I truly opened my eyes; it's the first time I've seen someone paying protection money so happily. It's also the first time I've seen a protection money collector actually take out money to help people.

Hehe, kid, you've really opened your eyes, huh! Uncle Zhang pushed the dazed me and Pangzi.

I, Pangzi, and Yuan Qiu all nodded in unison; indeed, we've really opened our eyes. If this were in the mainland, this would basically be impossible.

Uncle Zhang chuckled and said: "This is where Brother Zheng's charm lies; ordinary people simply cannot understand it."

At the same time, my heart grew increasingly curious about Chen Zheng, the Palm Master of Eastern Ling.