Chapter 17: The Beating

The old man was truly chivalrous! No matter what, he refused to leave Wen Xiaocheng behind. But Xiaocheng was getting anxious—didn’t the old man realize what kind of person he was? With those glasses, he looked every bit the intellectual, his hair streaked with white, right at the age where he could be stubbornly unreasonable. Though his health was decent, he was so thin he’d be wasted on anything but faking accidents for compensation! Just having him stand by my side was better than hiring a bodyguard—who would dare lay a finger on me? Even cars would swerve to avoid us.

But the crucial thing was, I had to take a beating for things to proceed as planned!

“People from the underworld take care of underworld business. Now that I’ve come across this, there’s no way I can just stand by! Let’s see who’s behind this—let’s fight them together! Never abandon, never give up. Even if we die here today, at least it’ll be a worthy cause. I’m not asking to be born the same year, month, and day as you, but I wouldn’t mind dying on the same one…”

You’re a senior intellectual—what’s with the tough guy talk? At your age, dying now would be passing away of old age; if I go with you, that’s a tragic loss of youth, you know?

“Old sir, don’t you still want to figure out that Great Western Campaign?”

That sudden question left the old man confused. Wasn’t this about someone giving you trouble? How did it turn into chess?

“If you want to solve it, just listen to me. Go home, make some tea, set up the chessboard, and I’ll be there soon enough! Be good! To be honest, this is a strategic retreat to lure the enemy in. If you mess up my plan, we’ll go our separate ways, and if you want to study that campaign, you’ll have to buy the chess manual and work it out yourself.”

Everyone has their weakness, and this frail old man was a chess fanatic. Just the mention of a chess puzzle and he gave in, waving at Wen Xiaocheng, “Be careful, kid. If something goes wrong, shout for help. My place is in Building 4, Room 301—remember it! I’ll be waiting for you, so stay alive!”

Please, sir, I beg you, don’t act cute…

After much persuasion, he finally managed to send the old man away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the accomplice from the chess stall, who had followed them, finishing a cigarette at the corner, clearly waiting for them to part ways. Wen Xiaocheng pretended not to notice, coughed lightly, and swaggered into the alley.

“Stop right there!”

With the old man out of sight, the accomplice finally seized his chance. To him, Wen Xiaocheng was just a half-grown kid, not worth worrying about. The alley was secluded—perfect for business.

“I said stop! Didn’t you hear me?” The man, about the same height as Xiaocheng—around 1.75 meters—was an adult and sturdier. His hair was long and messy at the temples, an earring on his left ear, about twenty-something, with a slick, flashy style that immediately put people on guard—hardly convincing as a decoy for the scam.

“What do you want?” Xiaocheng deliberately acted a little intimidated.

“Does it feel good having 200 bucks in your pocket? Hanging around the streets, don’t you know the rules? You dare take any money handed to you?” The man with the earring closed in as he spoke, pulling out a cigarette, lighting it, and blowing a mouthful of smoke right in Xiaocheng’s face.

“I won it at chess!”

“Who the hell did you beat?” The man grabbed Xiaocheng by the neck. “You think this is a chess tournament with a two-hundred-yuan prize? That’s our business! Cut the crap, hand the money back!”

“Why should I?” Xiaocheng carefully maintained an expression that showed some fear but also a bit of defiance.

“Why? Because of this!” The man slapped Xiaocheng hard across the face, jabbing a finger at his nose. “Are you going to hand it over, or do I have to make you?”

“Damn it, you dare hit my face!” Xiaocheng seemed to lose his temper, kicking the man in the stomach. But he was no match in strength, and the kick only made the man step back half a pace, which was enough to really piss him off. He spat his cigarette on the ground and slapped Xiaocheng again. Xiaocheng blocked with his arm, so the blow didn’t land on his face, but it still stung.

“Still fighting back?” The man grabbed him, spun him around, and threw him to the ground, then started kicking and stomping. Xiaocheng, a veteran at taking beatings, quickly covered his head and chest. It hurt, but no vital spots were hit.

“Still acting tough? Want to keep it up?” The man kicked him a few more times. When Xiaocheng finally lay still, he bent over to search his pockets, but the 200 yuan was gone—only thirty-something yuan in small change remained.

“Where’s the money? Get up, stop playing dead!” The man straightened up, catching his breath and pulling out another cigarette.

“That’s all there is.”

Another kick landed. “Who are you trying to fool? Where’s the 200 you just took?” He riffled through the small bills in his hand—one twenty, one ten, the rest coins—no big bills. It was summer, and there were only a few pockets to check.

“I gave the 200 to that old man just now.”

“What?”

“He taught me how to break your chess game. Said he couldn’t show up himself, so he had me play against you. Afterward, he’d give me ten yuan per game as a reward. The rest of the change is mine.” The kid was just that straightforward.

The man with the earring was taken aback but quickly realized what had happened. That old guy was really something! How could a kid barely fifteen or sixteen crack the legendary endgame, the so-called King of Chess Problems, the Great Western Campaign? He’d even solved the family’s own Nine Conquests of the Central Plains. It had to be the old man in glasses coaching him. That old man had lost a few dozen bucks at chess the other day—probably went home, studied the manuals, and brought the kid back for revenge! No wonder the two of them had been whispering together earlier—they were splitting the spoils!

But the money was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. Cursing his luck, the man turned to leave. He’d only taken a few steps when, from behind, Xiaocheng, still sitting on the ground, spoke up, “You’re just going to leave after beating me?”

That made the earringed man laugh—was this kid asking for more? He stopped and looked back. Xiaocheng was still sitting on the ground, but now, instead of fear, his face was filled with anger—the kid was clearly riled up.

But so what if he was? Just a brat!

“I’m a kid, you’re an adult. I admit I’m no match for you, but I can’t let this go. My name is Zhang Peiyue, and in this part of Dongfeng Town, I’m not someone you can just push around. If you’ve got the guts, let’s settle this at three o’clock this afternoon. I’ll bring my friends, you bring as many people as you want! At the abandoned building up front. If you can beat us fair and square, I’ll admit defeat and you can hit me all you want. If not, this grudge won’t die tonight! I’ll smash your chess stall every day! As long as you’re in this area, don’t expect any peace!”

The man with the earring laughed. Who on the street would be afraid of some kid? Brats get into a few fights and think they can take on adults? Time to teach them a lesson!

He had no choice but to accept the challenge. If he didn’t, the kids would never let up—better to beat them once and for all, and who knows, maybe recruit a few new lackeys.

“All right, bring your crew and let’s see what you’ve got. If you manage to beat us, I’ll even give you back your two hundred!”

“Three o’clock! The abandoned building! Bring more people, don’t let us kids chase you all over town!”

The man didn’t even look back, not interested in sparring with a child. He just gave a thumbs-up, meaning: kid, you’ve got guts!

Wen Xiaocheng hauled himself up, leaning against the wall. The earringed guy really didn’t pull his punches—he was already bruised in several places. Still, he was used to it, and a few minor injuries were nothing. With the alley empty, Wen Xiaodao suddenly appeared before him.

“Your idea wasn’t bad, but baiting someone into beating you up—don’t you think that’s a bit pathetic?”

———

Fortunately, someone guessed it right yesterday. Honestly, it was pretty obvious, wasn’t it? I don’t think this even counts as a plot twist. Anyone reading closely could work it out. What use could a bunch of street thugs have? About the only thing they’re good for is a gang fight, right? Didn’t we just set up a battle with Zhang Peiyue and his crew? Isn’t it obvious? And to those who suggested faking an accident—nearly sprayed water on my monitor. You want to scam street thugs? You’re lucky if they don’t scam you first! Remember, if you want to fake an accident, target rich folks who don’t want trouble. See how much you learn from my stories? Full of positive energy.