A Prophet - Chapter 2 (Part 3)

Chapter 3 - The Heaven and Earth Society's Robin Hood Branch: The Jiangxiang Sect

Grandfather was startled.

Zhou Zhenlong was equally baffled. "Master, why is this? He's our savior!"

Zhang Dancheng still shouted, "Tie him up!"

Not daring to disobey orders, Zhou Zhenlong and two foot-soldiers swarmed forward and tied Grandfather up.

Zhang Dancheng let out a cold laugh and said to Grandfather, "We have no relations or prior acquaintance, yet you risked your life to save us. You had no grudge against the Fourth Dam Master, yet you wanted to light his heaven lamp. Don't you find that strange?"

Grandfather's heart drummed heavily, but he said nothing.

Zhang Dancheng walked a circle around the tightly bound Grandfather, then suddenly pointed at Grandfather's head and said, "You're that beggar who got away!"

Zhou Zhenlong stepped back two paces in fright and blurted out, "Could he be... the kid the Fourth Dam Master said slipped through the net?"

Grandfather closed his eyes, thinking: So be it. Then, he calmly said, "Since you've seen through it, make it quick, and at least I can be reunited with my family."

Zhang Dancheng let out a long sigh. "Not repaying a kindness makes one unworthy of being a gentleman; leaving behind a legacy of infamy is a crime against history. I, Zhang Dancheng, have walked the rivers and lakes for decades, living by a single word: righteousness. You saved my life, so killing you would be unrighteous and unprincipled. I won't kill you, but... I won't let you go either!"

Zhang Dancheng knew that the kid before him was far too ruthless; letting him go would be like letting a tiger return to the mountains.

Thus, Grandfather was imprisoned. In the backyard of the stronghold stood an underground dungeon, specially used for locking up wrongdoeing con artists. In the second week after his imprisonment, a guard was assigned specifically to watch over Grandfather—a man of around fifty who walked with a limp. Grandfather genuinely could not understand why, out of so many able-bodied con artists in the stronghold, Zhang Dancheng insisted on sending an elderly cripple.

He learned later that this cripple was no ordinary man. Having followed Zhang Dancheng for decades, he had not been by Zhang Dancheng's side when the Fourth Dam Master rebelled. Upon hearing the foot-soldier's report, he rushed immediately to the stronghold, but it was already too late; outnumbered, after dropping a few of the Fourth Dam Master's men, he dragged his lame leg and fled over the wall in the chaos. When Zhang Dancheng retook the stronghold, he returned.

Though his leg was crippled, his skill certainly wasn't. He was considered a top-tier assassin of the stronghold. His lethality didn't lie in his legs—that leg had been crippled years ago while protecting Zhang Dancheng during a clash with local gangsters. His most terrifying technique was the "flying nail." Infusing strength into his hand, he could hurl an iron nail from a dozen meters away, driving it several inches deep into solid wood. This technique reportedly originated from the "Swallow Sect" of the Central Plains, though many later popular versions of the folklore evolved the "flying nail" into "flying knives" because flying knives sounded more dramatic and thrilling. In reality, during that era, people wouldn't throw flying knives even if they could throw flying axes. First of all, flying knives weren't something you could just acquire; before the Industrial Revolution, there was no mass steel-cutting technology, and all flying knives had to be hand-forged. Crafting razor-thin flying knives was both time-consuming and laborious. Even if one managed to forge a few nimble blades, they weren't very practical in actual combat because a thrown knife could not be retrieved immediately. You might kill a few targets at most, and then you would simply have to wait to be killed yourself. Moreover, most flying knife practitioners struck from concealment and fled immediately, meaning a set of blades that took dozens of days to forge would be lost in a single skirmish, forcing them to grind a fresh batch for the next operation—completely impractical. Nails, however, were easy to acquire, though the nails of that era were not like modern ones. Today's nails were called "foreign nails"—imported across the ocean just like "foreign matches" and "foreign kerosene." Ancient nails were much larger, custom-forged by blacksmiths, and measured three to four times the diameter of modern nails. The supply of nails was also relatively abundant, allowing a operative to carry dozens at a time. A master with good form never missed; a single firefight could yield at least a dozen kills. For the next operation, they could simply load up another pocketful without ever worrying about tools.

Grandfather told me that unless you saw it with your own eyes, you wouldn't believe such a master existed: with a flick of the cripple's hand, an iron nail would fly out with a sharp swoosh, embedding itself into the wooden pillar of the cell with a solid thud. Grandfather was stunned, and he finally understood why Zhang Dancheng had assigned such a man to guard him. "Master said you are his savior, but also his mortal enemy. He told me not to neglect you, but even more so, never to trust you." That was what the cripple told Grandfather on the first day they met.

At first, the two maintained mutual vigilance—one sitting inside the cell door, the other outside—barely speaking. As time went on, however, they grew familiar and gradually began to converse. The cripple's name was Tu Yiming, and he was among the first batch of disciples Zhang Dancheng took under his wing after entering the underworld. After his leg was broken, Zhang Dancheng essentially stopped assigning him field operations. That leg had been broken for Zhang Dancheng's sake, and Zhang Dancheng had sworn before the brethren of the stronghold to provide for him for the rest of his life. In truth, provision wasn't even necessary; having worked in the stronghold for so many years, Tu Yiming had plenty of silver and lacked for nothing.

Grandfather asked him why he didn't take the opportunity to leave the stronghold and live under an assumed name elsewhere. Tu Yiming chuckled and said, "You don't understand. When a man spends decades in the stronghold, the stronghold becomes his home. That bond cannot be bought away with money. Alive, I am a brother of the stronghold; dead, I am its ghost. I'm simply used to life among the brothers. Even though I'm disabled now and don't go out on jobs, my strategic counsel behind the scenes is still indispensable. I'm a restless man, and I certainly don't want to eat the bread of idleness. Just as you arrived, Master assigned me to watch you, saying you're a dangerous kid." Grandfather managed a bitter laugh in his heart. The period that followed was relatively comfortable for Grandfather: three meals a day with meat, and a couple of sips of rice wine on the first and fifteenth of every lunar month. Zhang Dancheng's move was utterly brilliant; time can dull all edges, and the rage and oppression in Grandfather's heart began to slowly subside. At night, Grandfather often muttered to himself, reminding himself to hold onto his hatred: even though his younger siblings weren't killed by Zhang Dancheng's own hands, he was still the master of the stronghold... If I hadn't saved them back then... But now he hasn't killed me... Every night, Grandfather fell asleep tangled in these unresolvable knots, frequently dreaming of the past, returning to his father and mother where the family laughed and joked together, only to wake up to an empty room and sink into a blank trance once more.

Grandfather had also considered smashing his head against the wall and ending it all, but then he couldn't figure out why he should die. His family was already destroyed; shouldn't he keep the family line alive? He had also thought of a hunger strike, but why starve himself? Were his enemy's provisions not fit to eat? Only by eating could he stay alive; only by staying alive could he get out; only by getting out could he exact revenge. Not only must he eat, he must eat well! Every ten days or half a month, Grandfather would wear leg irons and come out of the dungeon for some fresh air. Tu Yiming would sit in the courtyard watching him with iron nails concealed in his sleeves. Sometimes Grandfather would say, "You don't need to be so nervous; I'm not going to run." Whenever he said that, Tu Yiming would smile and say, "Others wouldn't, but you would. You dared to kill two men and light a man's heaven lamp at fifteen. If I'm not careful, I won't even know how I died." In truth, Tu Yiming liked Grandfather from the bottom of his heart. He often told Grandfather, "Kid, if you weren't our enemy, we'd definitely be good brothers. Don't spend all day thinking about revenge either. To be fair, when Master set up that scheme, he didn't know those were your younger brother and sister; the Fourth Dam Master just happened to run into you kids while prowling the streets..."

"Don't mention that anymore!" Grandfather cut him off. "If you tell me not to mention it, I'll mention it anyway. Let me tell you, Master already sent men to the temple to retrieve your brother and sister's bones and mud dolls, bought two large coffins, buried them, erected a tombstone, and sent people to burn paper money every single month. All the brothers in the stronghold want you dead right now, but Master simply refuses..." "Stop talking! You cripple!" Grandfather cursed. Tu Yiming chuckled and retorted, "Kid, if someone said that to me on the street, I'd seal his throat with a dart." Grandfather couldn't stay angry at the man. "How long is Zhang Dancheng planning to lock me up?" Tu Yiming shook his head. "Hard to say. Maybe a few years, maybe over a decade, maybe several decades. As long as Master lives—unless he passes away, and even then he probably wouldn't release you upon his death—you are the enemy of our entire stronghold. If you get out, none of us can expect to live. So, I figure you'll just grow old and die here. Isn't that nice? You get food and drink, and once you get a bit older, Master might even find you a girl... Haha..." Grandfather felt a wave of disorientation. Was this going to be his whole life? Day by day passed, and Grandfather resolved to live. After filling his stomach every day, he stretched his arms and legs in his cell, sometimes doing handstands to train his physical strength and endurance. When Tu Yiming was bored, he would walk over, sit in the courtyard, drive iron nails into a tree one by one, limp over to pull them out, limp back, drive them in again, walk over, and pull them out. Once, Grandfather said to Tu Yiming, "Hey, why don't you teach me how to throw iron nails?" Tu Yiming narrowed his eyes and smiled. "Do you take me for a senile old fool? If I teach you and one day you fling a dart into my throat, am I looking to die?" Grandfather laughed as well. "Judging a gentleman by the measure of a petty mind!" Human beings are emotional creatures; after a long time together, feelings develop, and mutual guard drops. Once, when Tu Yiming arrived sighing heavily, Grandfather seized the opportunity to ask, "What's wrong?"

Tu Yiming said, "Master lost his temper! Nearly blew the cover of our operation! Those bastards are far too greedy!" Grandfather smiled. "Tell me about it." Tu Yiming glanced at Grandfather, and Grandfather smiled again. "I'm practically part of the stronghold now, and I can't run anywhere. Even if I hear about it, it'll rot in my stomach. You don't need to be this tense." Tu Yiming let out a long sigh. "Very well. The con artist community isn't what it used to be..." Grandfather asked, "How is it different? Aren't they all just swindlers?" Tu Yiming shook his head. "They've lost the Way. Lost the Way."

Grandfather said, "What Way does a swindler have?" Tu Yiming's face darkened. "What do you know! In our 'Jiangxiang Sect,' we first bow to heaven as our father and earth as our mother, passing beneath bridges with honor and loyalty; those without loyalty and righteousness die beneath the blade! Swearing before heaven to aid the poor and punish the greedy—greed for wealth and lust brings heavenly retribution! You ask what Way a swindler has? Master knows you want to kill him, yet instead of killing you, he keeps you and feeds you. That is the Way!" Grandfather was stunned and immediately retorted, "Is murder part of the Way, then?" Tu Yiming replied, "Killing bad people is the Way; killing good people is losing the Way." Grandfather pondered for a moment. "What about killing innocent people?" Knowing Grandfather was thinking of his younger brother and sister again, Tu Yiming lowered his head for a moment and said, "That is losing the Way. Sometimes a person finds it hard to control themselves; for the sake of the stronghold's interests, sometimes they can't care about so much..." Hearing this, Grandfather flew into a rage. "Can't care? When you can't care, you slaughter the innocent indiscriminately? They were just children, they didn't understand anything, and they had no grudge against you!" Tu Yiming grew angry as well. "Who knew those were your brother and sister? Look at how many beggars there are on the streets! If they don't starve to death, they freeze to death—they're bound to die sooner or later! Right now, this very night, do you have any idea how many beggars are freezing to death? Can you manage all of them? This is a man-eating world! If they aren't eaten by con artists, they get eaten by this world!" Grandfather said coldly, "Is that your Way?" Tu Yiming sighed and said, "Do you think Master doesn't repent? Do you know how much silver the stronghold sets aside every year to relieve the poor? Do you know how many prescriptions of medicine Master gives away for free every year? Do you know why people for miles around treat Master like a living Buddha? Is trading the lives of a few beggars for the warmth and sustenance of a large crowd not worth it?"

Grandfather said, "What if the ones who died were your daughter or your son?" Tu Yiming fell silent. Grandfather said, "They were all born of mothers and fathers, the cherished flesh and blood of their parents." Tu Yiming said, "You don't understand. Master is actually decent. Look at the branches in other provinces—what have they become? Swindling money and women, burning, killing, looting, committing every imaginable evil—they're beasts!" Grandfather said, "You and beasts are pretty much the same." Tu Yiming flew into a fury. "You—" He raised his right hand. Grandfather said, "Going to hit me? Beast! You're nothing but beasts! Beasts!" Tu Yiming stared at Grandfather and silently retracted the iron nail in his sleeve. "I won't lower myself to your level!" Both fell silent. After a long while, Tu Yiming said, "Hate me if you want, but let me tell you: true con artists are not beasts! When Fang Zhaoyu, one of the Five Ancestors of the Hongmen, founded the 'Jiangxiang Sect,' he echoed heroes of the greenwood from all directions to rob the rich and aid the poor, overthrow the Qing and restore the Ming, winning secret applause from the common folk everywhere! After the Ancestor passed away, the disciples of the four major divisions—Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li—each strictly followed the Ancestor's teachings, holding benevolent thoughts in their hearts, free from greed for wealth or lust, punishing evil and promoting good, robbing the rich to aid the poor." Grandfather fell silent. Everything he spoke of was true, because Grandfather's own ancestors had also belonged to the Heaven and Earth Society, and the Heaven and Earth Society was the Hongmen. When Grandfather was young, his grandfather often told him stories of the Heaven and Earth Society overthrowing the Qing, though his grandfather rarely mentioned this specific branch, the Jiangxiang Sect, as it had drifted away from the main society. Seeing Grandfather remain silent and unsure of what he was thinking, Tu Yiming asked, "Why aren't you saying anything?"

Grandfather pondered for a long time, his mood heavy as he said, "Actually... my ancestors were also of the Heaven and Earth Society..." This sentence hit like a thunderbolt, shaking Tu Yiming's body. In his eyes, Grandfather was merely a beggar of unknown origin. Earlier, Zhang Dancheng had also had him ask Grandfather about his real name and background, but since Grandfather wouldn't say, they couldn't do anything about it and eventually stopped asking. To think they came from the exact same lineage! In feudal society, tracing one's ancestry back to the same roots was considered paramount. Tu Yiming hurriedly pressed for details, and Grandfather calmly explained step-by-step, recounting how his ancestors had opposed the Qing and restored the Ming, and later joined the Taiping Heavenly Army, omitting only the details about his father. This was enough to leave Tu Yiming dumbstruck. He timidly asked, "Kid, do you know what character your generation takes in your family name? Or do you know what character your father takes?" What "taking a character" meant was the fixed character designated for each generation's given name in a feudal family tree, usually referring to the middle character, which directly reflected a person's generational seniority. These characters were established by the original founding ancestors in a set sequence passed down generation after generation. For example, if someone surnamed Zhang belonged to a generation designated by the character "Yun," then he and his brothers would all be named Zhang Yun-something, such as Zhang Yunshan, Zhang Yunteng, or Zhang Yunlie. If the next generation used the character "Qing," then their children would all have "Qing" as their middle character, such as Zhang Qingwen or Zhang Qingcai. People of the same clan could tell at a glance whose seniority was higher and whose was lower. Generational seniority was the foundation of moral order and ethics, and the Three Cardinal Guides and Five Constant Virtues formed the bedrock of the entire feudal society's mindset. Therefore, disrupting generational order was an unforgivable act of treason; scolding elders, killing elders, or committing adultery with elders were heinous, unpardonable crimes. Grandfather remembered the character for his generation: he carried the character "Guan," while his father carried the character "Lin." Grandfather told him the truth.

No sooner had he spoken these words than Tu Yiming's legs went weak. He scrambled and crawled over to report the news to Zhang Dancheng.