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

"Behave yourself and don't move."

Another thug glared at him, then got into two other rickshaws with his companion. The two rickshaws sandwiched Zhao San's rickshaw between them, like jailers escorting prisoners.

"Let's go, to the west side of the city."

The lean rickshaw driver responded, picked up the handlebars, and started walking. The rickshaw wheels creaked and groaned as they rolled over the uneven, muddy road covered with a thin layer of ice in the slums of the southern city, heading west in the bleak winter afternoon wind.

The wheels left two shallow tracks, which were quickly covered by dust swirled up by the cold wind, as if no one had ever passed by.

Zhao San curled up in the car, the excruciating pain from his broken leg and the fear of his unknown fate intertwined, making him feel cold all over and trembling uncontrollably.

He didn't know who "Master Hai" was, nor what awaited him, but in any case, it seemed to offer a sliver of... vitality than silently rotting away in that stinking shack.

Although this vitality was cold and heavy.

In the afternoon, the old courtyard deep in Maojiawan felt even more lifeless than usual.

The news of Erqiangzi's drowning spread like winged flies, buzzing and seeping into every crack and patching up every broken window.

Wang Xiue lay slumped on the cold earthen bed, her eyes sunken, barely clinging to life, with occasional hissing sounds like a bellows rupturing.

Little Fuzi huddled in the corner by the stove, kneading the last bit of mixed flour with Guanyin clay into a pancake, her fingertips turning blue from the cold.

A tattered cotton wadding peeked out from under her coat's elbows, trembling with her subtle movements.

"Bang!"

The already rickety wooden door was suddenly kicked open from the outside, its rotten hinges groaning shrilly.

The cold wind, carrying the sour stench of cheap tobacco and lees, instantly filled the low, damp mud-brick house.

Four men blocked the doorway, like four black walls that suddenly pressed down, blocking out the dim light of daylight outside.

The leader was a short, stocky man wearing a shiny black cotton-padded jacket, which he left open to reveal an equally greasy gray cotton-padded jacket underneath.

His name was Ma Wu. His face was full of fat, and there was an old scar about an inch long on his left eyebrow bone that looked like a dead centipede lying there. He was one of Er Qiangzi's drinking buddies.

Behind him were three men: one was bald with a shiny bald head and murky, rolling eyes, known as Bald Sun; another was as thin as a stick, with sunken cheeks, but his eyes revealed a sinister look, known as Stick Zhao; and the last one had a gaping lip that revealed yellowed teeth, and his grin had a natural ferocity, known as Gap-Mouth Qian.

Ma Wu stepped inside, his heavy cotton shoes hitting the uneven muddy ground, making a chipped bowl on the stove vibrate loudly.

His cloudy eyes swept over Xiao Fuzi, who was huddled in the corner, and then landed on Wang Xiue, who looked withered on the kang. A cold, fake smile spread across his lips.

"Hey, sister-in-law, Xiao Fuzi, you're both home."

Ma Wu's voice was rough and high-pitched, with a deliberately exaggerated tone.

"It's freezing cold inside, there's not even a spark. It's going to be tough."

Like a startled rabbit, Xiao Fuzi suddenly stood up and instinctively stood in front of the kang (a heated brick bed), her thin body tense.

She recognized these people; they were her father's cronies from his past. She had often gone out drinking with him, and when they were drunk, they would ramble on and on at the alley entrance.

"Uncle Ma... Uncle Ma..."

Xiao Fuzi's voice was barely audible, trembling uncontrollably.

"You...have something to do."

"Something's up."

Ma Wu's fake smile vanished abruptly, replaced by an overbearing air that blended "business as usual" and "taken for granted."

"It's a huge deal. I'm looking for your mother, and I'm looking for you too."

He took two steps forward, and a strong smell of sweat and alcohol hit him.

Sun the Bald and Zhao the Mighty also squeezed in, while Qian the Gap-Mouth crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, blocking the only way out.

The already cramped room was suddenly crammed full, and the air became even more polluted and oppressive.

"The Erqiang brothers left in a hurry."

Ma Wu sighed, shook his head in a pretentious manner, but his gaze swept across Xiao Fuzi's pale face like a knife.

"But no matter how quickly he left, some debts cannot be left unresolved."

Wang Xiue jerked violently on the kang (a heated brick bed), the hoarse sounds in her throat becoming rapid. She struggled to open her cloudy eyes a crack, staring in terror at the dark figure at the doorway.

"Accounts...what accounts..."

Xiao Fuzi's face was deathly pale, her lips trembled, and her nails dug deeply into her palms.

"My dad... my dad didn't..."

"No debts."

Ma Wu interrupted her, slowly pulled out a crumpled piece of yellow hemp paper with blackened edges from his pocket, and shook it in his hand.

"In black and white, with red handprints, sister-in-law, Xiao Fuzi, take a look."

Ma Wu held out the paper to Xiao Fuzi. The writing on the paper was crooked and the ink was uneven, like crawling earthworms.

Xiao Fuzi only recognized a few of the simplest characters, barely able to make out the words "jin qian" and "da yang," and the signature was a blurry red fingerprint.

"Erqiangzi and his brother were short of money in December, so they borrowed ten silver dollars from me."

Ma Wu's voice carried an undeniable certainty as he forcefully poked at the torn piece of paper with his finger.

"He promised to pay me back after he made money pulling the cart in the spring. But before spring even arrived, he was gone."

"Tell me, is this debt right or wrong?"

"Ten yuan?"

Xiao Fuzi felt her vision go black and her voice distorted.

"Impossible... My father... he wouldn't have ten silver dollars to borrow... The family doesn't even have enough money to buy alcohol..."

She recalled the scene of her father forcing her mother to sell herself to pay for alcohol, and her stomach churned.

"Hey, what does a little brat like you know?"

Sun the Bald took half a step forward, his shiny bald head almost touching Xiao Fuzi's forehead, and the hot breath he exhaled carried a strong garlic smell.

"Your dad was having a bad run of luck back then, and he was so desperate that he asked Brother Ma Wu for help. There's no doubt about that."

"We are all witnesses."

He turned to look at Zhao Magan and Qian Huozui.

Zhao Magan nodded sinisterly, his voice like sandpaper scraping:

"That's right, right at Old Zhang's tavern by the bridge, I saw Erqiangzi put his handprint there with my own eyes."

"He said it himself, he has a beautiful daughter at home, so he's not worried about not being able to pay it back."

Qian Huozui grinned, chuckling dryly twice as a gesture of agreement, but his murky eyes, like sticky oil, swept across Xiao Fuzi's thin cotton-padded jacket.

"And here I am too!"

Zhao Magan also pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, with even more illegible handwriting.

"Erqiangzi borrowed five yuan from me last month, saying he wanted to buy cloth to make new jackets for his two sons for the New Year."

"I also have five yuan here."

Sun the Bald then added, but he didn't actually take out the note; he just patted his chest.

"Erqiangzi owes me at least five yuan for drinks. Everyone in the neighborhood knows that he always runs up debts when he drinks."