Chapter Three: The World for All

At dusk, the sun had already set the crest of the western hills ablaze with a splendid glow, casting the flagstone streets of Zhenhai River Town in a patchwork of half-light and shadow.

Lu Chenyuan emerged from the back door of the Tidewatch Inn, rubbing his aching shoulders. Today, he had earned thirty extra copper coins—enough for his master to enjoy two jugs of the cheapest firewater. At the thought, his steps grew lighter; he planned to take a shortcut home to their dilapidated lodging. But the corner of his eye was caught by a scene unfolding at the street’s end.

Seven or eight bare-chested thugs—obviously local dockside bullies—were encircling a young gentleman in pale blue silk, their words filthy and lewd, drawing sidelong glances from passersby. Yet no one dared to intervene.

Lu Chenyuan had no intention of meddling. Zhenhai River Town was a place teeming with all sorts, and with the decennial Sea-Watching Tide approaching, he was all too familiar with this kind of bullying. He only wished to hurry home before his master sobered up and began hollering about tearing down the kitchen again.

He was about to turn away when his gaze swept across the young gentleman’s face, and he paused in surprise. The youth, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, bore lips red as cherry, teeth like pearls, features delicate as a painting, and skin whiter than snow—so exquisitely handsome he seemed almost unreal. Yet his frame was a touch frail, and though he strove to maintain his composure, the hand gripping his folding fan trembled with fear.

Lu Chenyuan thought to himself, “What a fine, delicate young master—who knows which clueless wealthy family he belongs to, wandering into this den of snakes and dragons? Is he courting misfortune?”

He shook his head and made to leave. But just then, one thug, his face brutish and fleshy, swept Lu Chenyuan up and down with a lecherous glare before spitting a thick wad on the ground and sneering, “Little master, you look so pretty—are you off to some rich household to be their ‘pet rabbit’? Why not come with us? We’ll see you eat well, drink well—serve us comfortably, and you can walk this town sideways from now on!”

Another rogue immediately chimed in, “Boss is right! Look at that tender skin—bet he’d break at a touch. We’ll have to be ‘gentle’ with him!”

With that, the brute slapped his waist where a short knife hung; the hilt struck the scabbard with a dull clang as he took a step forward, grinning menacingly. “So, little master, will you come quietly, or do we need to ‘invite’ you?”

At this, Lu Chenyuan’s heart skipped a beat. The step he’d just taken froze to the ground, immovable.

He remembered his master’s drunken words: “And what is cultivation? Isn’t it just clearing the mind’s knots? Harboring resentment and forcing it down only breeds inner demons no amount of wine can drown.”

Watching that filthy hand about to touch the youth’s cheek, a wave of unspeakable disgust and irritation rose from the depths of his heart.

“If I don’t vent this, I’ll never sleep well tonight,” he thought.

With that, he hesitated no more. His eyes darted to a nearby wonton stall. The vendor, engrossed in the spectacle, craned his neck, utterly oblivious.

Lu Chenyuan’s mind was made up. He stooped low by the roadside, pretending to adjust his shoes, but secretly hooked his foot around one leg of the vendor’s cart.

With a resounding crash, the entire pot of scalding wonton soup—along with a dozen plump, white dumplings—splashed out in a rain of broth, landing squarely at the thugs’ feet!

“Ow! Mother of mercy!”

“It’s burning me alive!”

Steam billowed, white mist enveloped the air, and the bullies leapt and howled in agony, chaos erupting in an instant. The wonton vendor was stunned, then beat his chest, about to hurl curses.

At the heart of the commotion, a figure sprang into motion.

Lu Chenyuan rose from his crouch in one smooth, unhurried movement.

Without anyone noticing, he’d already fished out a few copper coins with his left hand. Not even looking, he flicked them back over his shoulder.

With a series of crisp clinks, the coins arced through the steaming mist and landed, without missing, in the vendor’s money bowl.

“Here’s for the soup. Keep the change.”

His calm, clear voice cut through the clamor and cries.

The vendor, awed by this display of precision, swallowed his curses.

In the same instant, Lu Chenyuan shot forward like an arrow loosed from the string, not the slightest hesitation, straight toward the startled youth in white.

Without glancing at the boy’s face, he reached out, seized the cold, delicate wrist, and barked, “Come!”

He pulled the youth into a narrow, shadowy alley nearby.

Fishing nets hung from the walls; the air was pungent with salt and dried fish. The alley was long and dark, sealing off the noise and shouts from outside.

After running several dozen paces and confirming they weren’t being followed, Lu Chenyuan released the wrist and leaned against the wall, catching his breath. He turned to the youth, intending to offer a few words, but saw the young man quietly rubbing at the red mark on his wrist where he’d been grabbed.

The youth raised his head; his eyes, shining brightly in the gloom, held no gratitude—instead, they carried a hint of amusement.

“Brother, you have quite the skill—and a powerful grip.”

His voice was clear and pleasant, though tinged with an indefinable undertone.

Lu Chenyuan paused, replying, “This isn’t a place to linger. Those men will be after us soon. You’d best find somewhere safe, or leave Zhenhai River Town altogether.”

The youth did not answer. He snapped open his white jade fan with a flourish; four bold characters—‘The World for All’—were inscribed on its surface. He gently fanned himself, stepping closer; a faint, elegant fragrance drifted to Lu Chenyuan’s nose on the night breeze.

“But,” the youth laughed softly, “how do you know I needed you to save me?”

Lu Chenyuan was momentarily at a loss.

He fell silent, slowly realizing he had perhaps interfered where he shouldn’t have. He replied plainly, “I don’t know, and I don’t need to. I only knew that their foul mouths offended my ears, and their presence was an eyesore.”

“I didn’t like what I saw, so I acted. It’s as simple as that.”

A deeper smile played at the youth’s lips. He closed his fan and tapped his smooth chin with the ribs, his bright eyes seeming to pierce through to the soul.

“Clear-minded resolve… interesting, truly interesting.”

He said airily, “I am Shangguan Chuci. May I ask your esteemed name?”

“Lu Chenyuan.”

Lu Chenyuan turned to leave, but the fan blocked his way.

Shangguan Chuci’s handsome face was still smiling, though his gaze grew sharper. “Lu brother, leaving so soon? Saving a life and not even staying for a cup of thanks—hardly the way of the jianghu.”

Lu Chenyuan frowned. “A small favor, not worth mentioning. Besides, it seems you didn’t really need it.”

“Oh?” Shangguan Chuci tapped his palm lightly with the fan, producing a crisp sound, and studied Lu Chenyuan with keen interest.

“How can you be so sure I didn’t need help? Just because I looked calm? Or because I asked you that question? Lu brother, you’re mistaken.”

He stepped half a pace closer, lowering his voice with a soft laugh. “Dealing with men like those—beating them is the worst way, a mere palliative, not a cure.”

Lu Chenyuan’s pupils contracted; in that seemingly casual remark, he sensed a dangerous edge that belied the youth’s harmless appearance.

Shangguan Chuci continued unbothered, “The truly effective way is to investigate them, find their weaknesses. For instance, that leader—I overheard someone say he has a brother addicted to gambling.”

“A little incentive, and the brother racks up debts he’ll never repay in a lifetime. The gambling house will handle the rest—no need for us to lift a finger. He’ll be left in utter ruin—far more satisfying, and much cleaner, don’t you think?”

He watched Lu Chenyuan with a smile, awaiting his reaction.

The air in the alley seemed to freeze.

For the first time, Lu Chenyuan felt a strong wariness toward this seemingly frail youth. He had never feared offending others, but he did abide by the code: misfortune should not be brought upon one’s family. Yet the other’s casual words carried a chill that made one’s blood run cold.

Shangguan Chuci sensed his fleeting silence and broke it with a half-joking tone, “What’s this? Think me ruthless? Lu brother, you’re missing the point.”

“This world is one vast zero-sum game—if you don’t scheme against others, they’ll scheme against you. If you want to live well, you must be more ruthless, more cunning.”

“Zero-sum game?”

Lu Chenyuan seized upon the unfamiliar phrase, repeating it instinctively.

“Hmm?” Shangguan Chuci realized he’d let something slip, but recovered instantly, hiding half his face behind his fan and coughing lightly. “Oh, it’s a saying from my hometown. It just means—‘either you die or I live.’ Crude, I know. Forgive me.”

He closed his fan, no longer blocking the way, and stepped aside, his tone returning to lazy indifference. “Enough. You don’t seem the type to care for lectures. My thanks for your aid today—I’ll remember this favor. Until we meet again.”

Lu Chenyuan cast her a deep look, said nothing more, and strode off into the darkness at the alley’s end.

Shangguan Chuci remained, gently waving her fan until Lu Chenyuan’s silhouette vanished.

Only then did her smile slowly fade, replaced by contemplation.

A shadow appeared soundlessly behind her, dropping to one knee. “Your Highness, about those bullies…”

“No need to deal with them,” Shangguan Chuci replied coolly, her voice now carrying a woman’s clarity, her eyes full of playful intrigue as she gazed after Lu Chenyuan.

“Did he actually understand that modern, higher-dimensional way of thinking I just used?”

She looked down, lightly caressing the wrist still reddened from Lu Chenyuan’s grip, the corners of her lips curving into a faint smile.