Chapter 5
The beast bared two sharp fangs. Ah Heng heard its heavy breathing and caught the scent of blood on its fur. The pressure it exerted was more terrifying than the tiger he’d faced during the day—this must be the demon beast Old Wen and the others had spoken of.
“Roar—” The beast let out a low growl. In the night’s darkness, Ah Heng caught sight of its agile form lurking behind a tree. Even with dusk as cover, he clearly saw the coin-like patterns on its golden fur—this was a leopard. But… a leopard this massive? It was larger than a tiger.
Ah Heng gripped his begging staff, facing off against the leopard. Truthfully, he knew he was no match for this beast. Still, he had to try—perhaps he could seize a sliver of chance.
“Roar—” The leopard showed no interest in prolonging the fight, its ears twitching backward. Then, in a blur, a powerful gust swept past. Ah Heng only caught glimpses of the black-and-gold leopard darting through the thicket before it vanished entirely.
Ah Heng exhaled in relief, lowering his begging staff to wipe the cold sweat from his brow. “That was close…” And how close it was! In that brief moment, he felt sweat trickling down his back. and he hadn’t felt this tense even while dragging a tiger today.
Ah Heng pushed aside the bushes with his begging staff. In the shade behind the thicket, he found a five-meter square stone. Bloodstains marred the surface. He bent down and touched the dark, foul-smelling blood. It seemed the leopard had been poisoned and was resting here, only for Ah Heng to stumble into its territory.
Having narrowly escaped death, Ah Heng shouldered his tattered herb basket and headed toward the dilapidated temple. With such terrifying beasts lurking in the dense forest, no wonder Old Wen had repeatedly forbidden him from going out at night. Truth be told, encountering such a beast—let alone at night—would be hopeless even in daylight.
The temple door stood half-open. Old Wen huddled inside, his gaze fixed on the path leading into the thicket. In the moonlight, a tall figure leaning on a cane seemed to appear at the path’s end. Old Wen gasped for breath, then pulled the battered door open with his stiff hands.
“Ah Heng—” Old Wen stood before the small temple, craning his neck to peer out. His voice was uncertain as he called, “Is that you? Answer me—”
Old Wen would come out to investigate any rustle or movement outside. His eyesight was failing with age, so he always called out several times before venturing out. If Ah Heng had lost his way in the woods, perhaps hearing his voice would guide him back. Of course, this carried risks—if it attracted beasts from the forest, Old Wen might lose his life.
“It’s me.” Ah Heng’s voice remained deep and hoarse, like someone parched for days.
Old Wen relaxed the moment he recognized Ah Heng’s voice. He hadn’t seen the lantern in Ah Heng’s hand—the candle must have burned out.
Old Wen shuffled down the path toward Ah Heng, scolding as he went, “You fool, why did you take so long? Are you hurt?”
Behind Ah Heng, a basket strapped to his back was stuffed with medicinal herbs. Listening to Old Wen’s chattering, his heart felt as if it were filled with a bundle of soft grass.
In the faint morning light, the scent of herbs wafted from the small, dilapidated temple. Ah Heng and Old Wen carefully prepared the herbs, which now bubbled and simmered in a small clay pot.
“It’s almost ready.” Ah Heng fetched a cracked bowl and poured a generous portion of the brownish herbal liquid into it. Old Wen hurriedly reached out to take it. “Here, let me do it. Doggie’s never had medicine before in all his years.” His voice betrayed a hint of excitement.
Old Wen pretended to blow on the scalding liquid while Ah Heng helped lift Er Gou upright.
After just one sip, Er Gou let out a sharp yelp.
“Ah Heng, you’re a miracle healer!” Old Wen exclaimed joyfully. “Gouzi was unconscious moments ago, and now he’s awake after just a taste of the medicine!”
Er Gou mumbled incoherently, tears welling in his eyes: “It’s hot—”
Old Wen’s beggar nature surfaced. He grumbled, “What’s so hot about it…”
Old Wen lowered his head to take a sip of the medicine. Suddenly, “Pfft—” he sputtered, spraying Er Gou’s face with the liquid.
“Yikes! Smells so good, yet tastes so bitter!” Old Wen felt his whole mouth go numb. “Even these herbs are bitter…” So you drank them thinking they tasted good, Old Wen?
Ah Heng wiped his face and pointed at the small clay stove: “There’s plenty of medicine. Not just Doggie needs it—you need it too, Old Wen.”
Old Wen’s face darkened even more than the herbal liquid in the bowl. As he carefully fed the medicine to Er Gou, he pleaded, “I’m perfectly healthy. Can I skip it? Let Gouzi have more.”
Li Er Gou, feverish and unable to resist: …No! I don’t want to drink it!
Ah Heng helped Er Gou lie flat, then explained gently, “You’re injured just like Er Gou. This herbal decoction disperses blood stasis and relieves pain. Drink plenty—don’t be shy.”
Old Wen held a half-bowl of medicinal liquid, torn between laughter and tears: “Is there no medicine in this world that tastes good?” He had once secretly picked dates from the medicinal residue discarded by roadside pharmacies. Though they had a hint of sweetness, the bitterness still outweighed it.
Ah Heng’s brew smelled far more fragrant than the potions concocted by the pharmacy assistants, yet it was still bitter.
Ah Heng picked up a torn sack, preparing to go out begging. Hearing this, he blurted out, “Of course there are! There are many tasty medicines in this world…”
But when pressed to name specific ones, Ah Heng couldn’t come up with a single example.
“Ah Heng, where are you headed?”
Old Wen called out as he saw Ah Heng standing dazed for a moment before preparing to leave. Ah Heng shuffled forward slowly, leaning on his stick. “Going to beg for some food.”
Yesterday, they had indeed packed quite a lot of food, but with Er Gou and Old Wen both injured, Ah Heng felt the weight of supporting his family fall squarely on his shoulders.
But begging wasn’t Ah Heng’s forte. By the time he returned at noon, his cloth sack was completely empty. Thankfully, there were reserves at home. Ah Heng chewed silently on yesterday’s stale steamed bun.
“Ah Heng, what are you thinking about?” Old Wen placed a small piece of pickled vegetable lump in Ah Heng’s hand. Ah Heng replied softly, “Old Wen, I don’t want to beg.” Asking others for handouts always felt wrong.
“I’ve got hands and feet. Even if I had to hunt for a living, it’d be better than begging.” Ah Heng hugged his black begging stick, feeling ashamed of what he was doing.
Old Wen sighed and patted Ah Heng’s shoulder. “Who wants to beg? But for the old, weak, sick, and disabled like us, it’s really hard to support ourselves.”
Ah Heng’s words left Old Wen silent for a long time. Er Gouzi sensed the awkwardness too. He nudged Ah Heng’s side. “Did someone give you the cold shoulder or yell at you this morning?”
Ah Heng glanced at Er Gou. He hadn’t been able to hold out his hand to beg all morning, so he hadn’t heard anyone scold him.
But as he stared blankly at the sky, Ah Heng felt a heavy ache in his chest, an unbearable discomfort. He shouldn’t be living like this…
Er Gouzi chattered on, sharing begging techniques with Ah Heng, but Ah Heng drifted off again.
Old Wen sighed. “Gouzi, let Ah Heng be alone. Don’t bother him.” Old Wen could see Ah Heng was capable. Perhaps he’d soon leave this place to find his own way.
Old Wen knew well that a livelihood built on others’ pity was inherently unstable, but he couldn’t change his circumstances. Every beggar carried a past too painful to recall. If they had any other means, who would willingly endure ragged clothes, empty stomachs, and the trampling of their dignity?
Inside the dilapidated temple, the trio of beggars ate in silence. Suddenly, chaotic footsteps echoed outside. The waiter from Apricot Blossom Pavilion, sweat streaming down his face, burst into the temple: “Hero Ah Heng! Our master’s old rival is causing trouble again! You must go see it!”
“Let’s go.” Ah Heng set down his stale bun and, leaning on his begging staff, stepped out of the temple.
Old Wen and Er Gouzi exchanged glances. Old Wen suddenly wondered, “Who could Xinghua Lou’s rival be?” Er Gouzi scratched his cheek. “Does Xinghua Lou even have rivals?”
They say beggars have the best intel, but Old Wen and Li Er Gouzi only knew which shops in Xiaoyan Town had kitchen scraps to scavenge. They didn’t know much about other gossip. After all, this elderly duo’s turf was in the least lucrative area. A place as high-end as Apricot Blossom Pavilion was beyond their reach—they didn’t even have the chance to scavenge leftovers, let alone know who its rival was.
Ah Heng walked at a leisurely pace, leaving the waiter sweating profusely. “Sir! Master! Could you please hurry up?”
Ah Heng kept his eyes straight ahead. “Sorry, this is as fast as I can go.”
The waiter was both anxious and annoyed. “Good heavens! At this snail’s pace, our boss is going to be ruined!”
Reaching the entrance of Apricot Blossom Pavilion, they found a dense crowd gathered around it. Several burly men stood among the onlookers, blocking their way inside. The tattooed leader spotted the waiter escorting Ah Heng back. His sharp gaze swept over Ah Heng several times before settling on a look of utter contempt.
Ah Heng lifted his eyes to the second floor of Apricot Blossom Pavilion. He sensed something up there, something that had already seen right through him. The feeling was unbearable—like being stripped naked and exposed to someone’s gaze.
Author’s corner:
Doggie: Ah Heng moves slower than a snail!
Waiter: Sir, could you hurry up?
Old Wen: A man can’t hurry!
Stupid Author: Old Wen, you just screwed up.
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