The Republic of China: I, Xiangzi, a Hero in a Chaotic Era

Liu Jiaxiang sat down as instructed, a natural upward curve to his lips, appearing relaxed and approachable.

"Thanks to Brother Zhou, with your help, the director values ​​me highly, and the negotiations went smoothly."

He leaned forward slightly, his tone carrying an undeniable sincerity.

"Let's go out to a restaurant near the Eighth Floor for lunch, it's on me, to properly thank you, brother."

Upon hearing this, Zhou Chengan quickly waved his hand, a look of apology on his face:

"No, no, Brother Jiaxiang, you're being too polite."

"You've spent too much money on me lately, going to banquets and operas. I feel really bad about it."

"We're all on the same side, a simple meal at the canteen will do, why should we always make you spend money?"

"That won't do."

Liu Jiaxiang's smile remained unchanged, but his eyes showed determination, and his voice deepened.

"Brother, you've done me such a big favor by getting me through to the director. I, Liu Jiaxiang, will always remember this kindness. Treating you to a simple meal is nothing; it's only right and proper."

"If you don't go, then you're disowning me as your brother."

His gaze was fixed on Zhou Chengan, carrying a gentle yet undeniable pressure.

Zhou Cheng'an was somewhat overwhelmed by the gaze, a look of helplessness mixed with satisfaction appearing on his face. He finally nodded in resignation, tapping his finger on the table:

"Brother Jiaxiang, look at you... what are you saying? Fine, I'll go, okay? If I refuse again, it'll seem like I'm being pretentious."

Liu Jiaxiang's smile finally spread completely, as if the last wisp of cloud had been dispelled by the sunshine.

"That's more like it. There's no need for formalities between brothers."

He stood up and casually straightened the cuffs of his police uniform.

"Shall we leave now? Let's not leave all the good seats in the restaurant taken."

"Okay, okay, I'll be going now."

Zhou Chengan also stood up with a smile, neatly gathered the files on the table, and locked them in the drawer.

The two walked out of the office side by side, passing through the police station's somewhat old-fashioned lobby.

The winter sun slanted across the stone path, casting long shadows of the two people.

They talked in hushed tones, the atmosphere was harmonious, and they walked toward the inner city, their figures soon merging into the bustling crowds on the street.

In the private room of the Eighth Building, a table was laden with delicacies.

Liu Jiaxiang ordered the dishes with great skill, showing both grandeur and frugality while catering to Zhou Chengan's taste preferences.

During the meal, he stopped mentioning the specific conversation in the director's office, and instead chatted about trivial anecdotes from within the department and recent stories from the capital. Occasionally, he would offer a few well-timed compliments to Zhou Cheng'an, which made the other man happy.

After a few cups of warm wine, Zhou Cheng'an's face flushed, and he became quite talkative.

The meal was enjoyed by both host and guests, and the table was nearly empty, yet the atmosphere remained warm and lively.

After the meal, Liu Jiaxiang did not stop making arrangements.

He led the slightly tipsy Zhou Chengan, familiar with the place, into a large, impressive-looking bathhouse nearby.

The steaming pool water, shrouded in white vapor, dispelled the chill of early winter.

The two soaked in the warm pool water, their muscles and bones relaxed, feeling completely comfortable.

Liu Jiaxiang then instructed the waiter to arrange a "one-stop" service for Zhou Chengan, including back scrubbing, pedicure, and massage.

The skilled pampering staff made Zhou Cheng'an feel completely relaxed. He lay on a recliner covered with a snow-white towel, closed his eyes, and hummed comfortably. His face was filled with undisguised satisfaction and contentment, and his smile was almost overflowing.

As dusk settled and the city lights began to twinkle, the two said their goodbyes at the entrance of the bathhouse.

Zhou Cheng'an left contentedly, feeling warm all over and completely satisfied with his meal and drinks.

Liu Jiaxiang stood at the door, watching his back disappear around the street corner. Only then did the smile on his face slowly fade, returning to its usual calm. He then turned and disappeared into the deepening night.

In Zhou Cheng'an's view, the day's eating, drinking, and entertainment were undoubtedly wonderful and enjoyable.

The chill in Maojiawan was biting cold in the dead of night.

The daytime hustle and bustle had long since subsided, leaving only a few dim lights flickering in the cold wind, reflecting the thin layer of frost on the bluestone pavement.

A small tavern on the street corner still had its lights on. The greasy curtain was lifted, and a figure stumbled out.

It's Erqiangzi.

He reeked of cheap liquor, his hair was greasy and messy, and his face was swollen and numb from being drunk.

The thin, tattered cotton-padded jacket was open, revealing the equally dirty padded jacket underneath.

Erqiangzi leaned against the cold door frame, let out a loud burp, and stared blankly at the empty street with his cloudy eyes, seemingly unable to recall which direction his home was.

A gust of cold wind made him shrink his neck, and he hummed a nonsensical tune incoherently as he stumbled toward the tenement.

Ever since he was released from the Xisi North Police Station that day, he has been harboring a bellyful of anger with nowhere to vent it.

Back in that dilapidated, crowded courtyard, reeking of mold and urine, he gave his wife and daughter, Xiao Fuzi, a severe beating that very night.

His wife's wailing and Xiao Fuzi's screams became his outlet for venting his fear and humiliation.

The chill emanating from the police batons of the patrol officers and the cold gaze of the young station chief seemed to be dispelled only by brutally beating the weaker.

Today, that pitiful amount of money he earned by forcing his wife to sell her body was quickly sent to the tavern owner's greasy drawer, resulting in his current dizziness and burning sensation in his stomach.

He completely ignored the fact that the fire in the house had long since died down, the rice jar was empty, his wife was beaten and lying on the cold kang unable to get up, Xiao Fuzi was trembling in the corner with red and swollen eyes, and his two half-grown boys were so hungry that their stomachs were growling but they dared not utter a sound.

All that remained in Erqiangzi's mind was the brief numbness brought on by alcohol and the morbid warmth in his body.

Now that he was full and satisfied, burping and reeking of alcohol, he felt like the heavens were the most important thing in the world. He swayed and staggered down the quiet, deserted street, humming even louder.

The road leading to the tenement courtyard requires crossing a stone slab bridge spanning the moat's irrigation canal.

The bridge is quite old; the stone slabs are worn smooth, and the edges are covered with slippery moss.

A cold wind swept in from the river, carrying the fishy smell of water and a bone-chilling cold.

Erqiangzi staggered onto the bridge, but after only a few steps, his stomach churned violently.

The cheap liquor and undercooked pig's head meat that I drank that night, mixed with stomach acid, rushed up my throat.

He suddenly threw himself onto the cold stone bridge railing, leaning half his body out and violently vomiting into the dark river below.

The filth poured into the river like sewage from a burst dam, making a dull thud.

Erqiangzi vomited violently, his face covered in snot and tears, his whole body convulsing, his hands gripping the cold, damp bridge railing tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.