Chapter 2

The ball, also called a leather ball, is used in the game of cuju.

“Cu” means to kick with the foot; “ju” is a spherical object made of leather filled with rice bran, pig bladders, and other materials; together, the two characters mean to kick the ball.

The game of cuju has existed since ancient times and is now at its peak of popularity, played from the imperial court down to the common streets; in the capital, there are specialized clubs like Yuan She and Qi She dedicated to cuju, and bookshops even sell small manuals teaching how to play.

At this moment, the ball rolled near Zhao Ti and his companions; Bai Zhan stepped forward with a swift stride, let out a soft whistle, and thrust out a punch.

That punch appeared fierce, yet concealed supple, inch-strength force; with a muffled “puchī,” the ball did not fly away but was violently pierced through its center, sliding onto his arm, scattering rice bran everywhere.

Zhou Dong praised from the side: “Bai Dalang, excellent fist power!”

Su Da and Yu Er now leaped forward; Su Da had a thick, curling beard and a massive frame like a bear, while Yu Er was slender and nimble like a macaque; both shouted together: “How dare you!”

All eyes in the field turned toward them; the ruffians’ expressions turned vicious, eyes glaring, fists clenched.

The ruffian with the knife-like face glanced over, seeing Zhao Ti dressed as a scholarly scholar, Zhou Dong in plain clothes, and the other three equally modest; he sneered: “Fine, fine—today’s luck’s rotten. Just now those two old bastards blocked my game, and now you’ve ruined my ball and still dare to speak up? Are you looking to die?”

Su Da roared: “The street is for walking—where is the place for cuju? Are you deliberately using this to extort honest folk?”

His voice boomed like thunder over dry land, making the ruffians clutch their ears.

“Extort money?” The knife-faced ruffian flinched, enraged: “You insolent dog, don’t you know who I am? I’m no longer some lowlife—why would I bother swindling your pitiful scraps? Today, you’ll kneel and beg forgiveness, beat your own face till your teeth fall out, so you learn the power of Gao Qiu!”

“Filthy bird, pig-dog trash, how dare you speak so boldly!” Su Da clenched his fists like bowls, turned to Zhao Ti, and prepared to charge.

Zhao Ti had been staring at the knife-faced ruffian; hearing his name, his eyes narrowed slightly: “You’re Gao Qiu?”

The knife-faced ruffian saw Zhao Ti’s white robes flowing like drifting clouds and snow, steady as a mountain and deep as a pool; his heart skipped a beat, but he had backing—he feared neither common families nor official households; he slapped his chest: “I’m Gao Qiu—have you heard of me, pretty boy?”

“The Gao Qiu who kicks leather balls?” Zhao Ti stroked his chin.

“So you know—then kneel and apologize at once, and give yourself dozens of slaps to make amends!”

Zhao Ti smiled faintly, lowered his gaze; Su Da and Yu Er saw this, moved like the wind, and charged forward.

The ruffians who had been beating the old merchant and boy screamed as they rushed forward—but they were no match for the two; it was like a tiger entering a flock of sheep, or a falcon diving into a crow’s nest; in moments, they were all thrown to the ground, wailing and crying out in pain.

Zhao Ti said calmly from behind: “Too gentle.”

Bai Zhan heard this: “Master, let me!” and with a sharp “cēng,” leapt over ten feet, reached the fallen ruffians, and stomped down—bones cracked, screams rose in succession.

Gao Qiu’s face turned pale; seeing Su Da and Yu Er charging toward him, he stepped back several paces and shouted: “You dare… I’m a retainer of Xiao Su Xianggong, a personal attendant of Prince Duan—how dare you lay hands on me? Do you want to die?”

Zhao Ti’s lips curled slightly—he was indeed that Gao Qiu.

Whether in history or later legends, Gao Qiu’s life followed roughly the same path: a street hanger-on, a ruffian by nature, after many twists, he lucked into the household of Su Shi; when Su Shi was exiled, he was sent to Su Zhe’s residence, then dispatched elsewhere by Su Zhe, and finally, by chance, ended up beside Prince Duan, Zhao Ji.

The “Xiao Su Xianggong” Gao Qiu mentioned was Su Zhe, currently serving as Vice Minister, a core figure of the Old Faction and a trusted confidant of Empress Dowager Gao Taotao.

Seeing the others silent, Gao Qiu immediately wore a smug look; with such backing, he feared no one in Dongjing City—like the poem says: “Past humiliations mean nothing now; today I roam free without bounds.” Even the authorities now gave him three parts of respect.

“Since you know my name, why not beg for mercy…”

“You kick the ball well.” Zhao Ti folded his sleeves before him and smiled faintly; then, as if recalling something, he shook his head.

“Of course my ball-kicking’s excellent—you…” “Aaah!” Su Da had already reached him; before he finished speaking, he seized Gao Qiu like a chick and lifted him up.

The remaining ruffians on the sides saw trouble and turned to flee; Bai Zhan and Yu Er chased them down, knocked them all to the ground in moments, smashing their bamboo rods and slingshots, leaving them screaming in agony.

“Who’s your grandfather?” Su Da glared at Gao Qiu, voice deep and rumbling.

“I, I…” Gao Qiu’s eyes darted, struggling helplessly: “I’m Prince Duan’s…”

“Slap!” Su Da struck him across the face: “Don’t you dare threaten me with Prince Duan!”

“You, you aren’t afraid of Prince Duan?” Gao Qiu spat out two teeth, face filled with shock: “You dare hit me? Prince Duan won’t forgive you!”

Su Da ignored him, turned to Zhao Ti: “Master, how shall we deal with him?”

Zhao Ti said slowly: “Though he’s only committed petty evils now, his nature is treacherous and cunning—he excels at flattering rulers with tricks. In time, he will become a great danger. Break both his legs—destroy the very skills he uses to curry favor.”

“What?” Gao Qiu’s body went limp; all his talent lay in cuju—if his legs were broken, what would he kick with?

“Spare me! I’m blind to the mountain’s greatness, I’m…!”

Su Da didn’t listen; he raised his knee and smashed it down twice—“bang, bang”—shattering both legs, then tossed him to the ground like a discarded strand of noodles.

The onlookers burst into cheers; who in this stretch from Zhou Bridge to Xiangguo Temple didn’t know Gao Qiu? Once they hated and despised him; now they truly feared him, for he had climbed into the favor of Xiao Su Xianggong and become Prince Duan’s personal attendant.

Some blunt-hearted bystanders urged the group to flee quickly, warning that if the patrol soldiers arrived, they’d be arrested and thrown into prison.

Bai Zhan returned to Zhao Ti’s side: “Master, should we notify Kaifeng Prefecture?”

Zhao Ti glanced at the groaning ruffians on the ground: “This street is patrolled daily by the Military Patrol Office—yet not a single guard has appeared. They’re clearly avoiding Gao Qiu.”

“Master, Kaifeng Prefecture governs civil order in the capital, its chief even ranks among the ministers—how could they let a street ruffian go unchallenged?” Zhou Dong asked, puzzled.

Zhao Ti shook his head: “The chief won’t order them to avoid him—but the lower clerks and soldiers, stationed daily among the markets, deal constantly with ruffians and gangs. Knowing Gao Qiu has attached himself to Prince Duan, they fear climbing the wrong ladder, so they turn a blind eye, letting him harm others. Prince Duan and Su Zhe are blind to character; by nurturing this petty evil now, they will inevitably breed a great one.”

“I see—it’s clear now,” Zhou Dong understood the logic and nodded.

As the two spoke, a commotion erupted at the edge of the crowd; voices shouted: “What’s going on? In broad daylight, daring to brawl in the marketplace? Lock them all up and take them to Kaifeng Prefecture for trial!”