Chapter 63: The Strength of Elder Yang

Xiao Weiguo left the courtyard in a hurry, pedaling his bicycle as fast as he could, afraid that someone would come to introduce him to another matchmaking session. He was only sixteen; what was the rush? He remembered that Old Yang's house wasn't far from Nanluoguxiang, just by the edge of Chaoyang Gate. It didn't take long before Xiao Weiguo arrived at his destination.

Seeing the complete, private siheyuan once again, Xiao Weiguo couldn't help but nearly drool. He took out a bag from his space, filled with all sorts of seasonal vegetables grown there, meant as a gift, and walked straight toward the courtyard.

As he approached, he saw the main gate of the siheyuan opened just a crack, and from inside came a chaotic noise, many voices mingling together. Xiao Weiguo knocked on the half-shut door and called out, "Is anyone there?"

No one replied.

Left with no choice, Xiao Weiguo pushed the door open himself, carried his bicycle over the threshold, and wheeled it inside.

Inside, a circle of people stood scattered in the courtyard. Old Yang lounged on a chair under the tree, sipping tea and teasing a parrot. In front of him, a burly man knelt on the ground, head bowed, speaking softly.

Looking closer, Xiao Weiguo recognized the burly man—it was the one who had tried to lay hands on Old Yang in the bathhouse.

At that moment, someone in the crowd spotted Xiao Weiguo and shouted loudly, "Who’s there?"

"It's me, Old Yang. I came to visit you and brought some vegetables from the countryside. I hope I’m not interrupting anything," Xiao Weiguo hurried forward and addressed Old Yang.

"Just in time. The other party involved is here as well, right? You're Weiguo, aren't you? Find a seat. You should give your opinion too, see if the old man handled things correctly." Old Yang straightened up from his lounge chair and spoke to Xiao Weiguo.

He paused, then continued, "Every cause has its effect. I lost my temper and you threw me down; that was my fault, you were right. But after I came home, my thoughts wouldn’t settle, which for us cultivators is serious—it affects our practice. So, I had someone look for faults in your work, but I didn’t expect you to be not such a good person yourself. Your job is on the verge of being lost, you found my junior, tracked me down, kneeling at my feet, begging me for mercy. Why should I forgive you? Losing your job is your own mistake; what does it have to do with me? What do you say, Weiguo?"

Xiao Weiguo was at a loss for words, mostly because he didn’t know the details and couldn’t judge.

"Old Yang, he was in the wrong for starting a fight in the bathhouse," Xiao Weiguo replied after some thought.

"Very well, my thoughts are clear now. You may go; I won’t interfere any further. Whether you overcome your difficulties from here on depends on you," Old Yang said to the burly man kneeling before him after a moment’s contemplation.

The burly man looked up in surprise and gratitude, exclaiming, "Thank you, Old Yang, thank you! I’m truly sorry for before, I’ll never act so recklessly again. From now on, I’ll handle things myself."

"Go on now, be cautious in solitude and in small matters, nurture your spirit, and remember to mind your words and actions in the future. The rest of you, take this to heart as well," Old Yang addressed the circle of men.

The burly man quickly got up, thanking Old Yang as he made his way toward the gate.

Only now did Xiao Weiguo take a closer look at the others in the courtyard—men in their prime, all robust and full of energy, physically strong and imposing.

Old Yang noticed the large bag of vegetables Xiao Weiguo had brought, nodded with a smile, and said, "You’re thoughtful. Let me introduce you: this is my junior, Tian Xuguo. Last time, I promised to teach you some martial arts; he’s the one you should seek out."

"Thank you, Old Yang. I’ll come to learn from this uncle when I have time," Xiao Weiguo replied, nodding to the burly man.

Old Yang then turned to his junior, Tian Xuguo, and said, "Xuguo, it was this young man who brought me home last time. Without him, I wouldn’t have made it back. In our Daoist tradition, we always repay kindness. Teach him a couple of self-defense routines, nothing too deep."

Tian Xuguo glanced at Xiao Weiguo and said to his elder brother, "All right, I understand. He can come anytime and learn with the other lads. As for the man today, he went straight to our director to bring him here. I hope it won’t affect your mood, brother."

"This matter is settled. Let’s not mention it again; keeping such things in mind only adds trouble," Yang Moguang—Old Yang—waved his hand dismissively.

"Come, young friend, don’t rush off today. Let’s share some tea," Old Yang beckoned Xiao Weiguo toward the main room.

"All right, brother, we’ll head back now. We still have goods to deliver," Tian Xuguo said.

"Go on, don’t linger here. Remember to be cautious, even in small matters," Old Yang replied while brewing tea.

Tian Xuguo led his men out.

"Did you come for anything in particular today?" Old Yang poured a cup of tea for Xiao Weiguo and gestured for him to taste it.

"Old Yang, I just came to see how you were doing. Nothing else, really. By the way, what do Uncle Tian and the others do? They look quite strong," Xiao Weiguo asked.

Old Yang sipped his tea and replied, "Them? They make their living by physical labor—some are foremen, some do heavy work, some are bricklayers, and so on. It’s a new era; the old ways aren’t popular anymore. As long as you can fill your stomach, any job will do. My junior is respected among them; when they’re in trouble, they come to him. He knows a bit of martial arts, so when there’s time, he teaches these unfortunate folks to improve their health. The better their health, the more they can earn. All of them have tough lives."

Now Xiao Weiguo understood. Someone who didn’t know might think they were gangsters, but it was clear now—they were just people at the bottom, banding together of their own accord, as they always did in any era.

Thinking of selling supplies from his space, Xiao Weiguo asked Old Yang, "Old Yang, last time you mentioned, I’ve got some surplus factory goods—planned but unwanted supplies. Could you take some off my hands, just to help the folks from outside the city?"

"Supplies? When are they ever not lacking? Always in short supply. What do you have? Anything edible is scarce these days. However much you have, I can exchange for you," Old Yang said, instantly more energetic.

"Right now, I have twenty chickens and twenty rabbits. Would you want them?" Xiao Weiguo asked.

"Of course! On the black market, a chicken runs two to four yuan, a rabbit about two yuan. I’ll give you three yuan for each chicken, two for each rabbit—exactly one hundred yuan. Here’s the money; bring them over when you have time," he said, rising and heading into the inner room. Soon he returned, handing Xiao Weiguo ten black banknotes.

Xiao Weiguo stared, surprised at Old Yang’s decisiveness. "Old Yang, aren’t you afraid I’ll take the money and vanish? Besides, you live alone; so many supplies, and it’s not even winter—they’ll spoil easily."

"What’s there to be afraid of? I trust my judgment. Besides, for such a small sum, it’s worth it to see a person clearly. As for how to use it up, don’t worry—if you brought two hundred, they’d be gone in no time. All my old friends have grown tired of eating plain grain," Old Yang said, settling back and raising his teacup.