Chapter 94: Ruthless

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Fujing Street.
Zhuang Jin's residence as the street captain was right beside the street office. Here, servants were moving various sundries from the medicinal fields outside the city, with Chen Yun leading them to help organize.
Entrusting this task to Chen Yun put Zhuang Jin at ease, so he went to the street office nearby to hold a meeting with the three squads under his command, getting acquainted with the martial artists outside Lin Hong’s core team and arranging night watch duties.
By mid-morning, after finishing his instructions, Zhuang Jin headed over to the adjacent residence.
This street was named ‘Fujing,’ evoking a refined and elegant scenery. The current residence was a small pavilion by the water, significantly more spacious than the huts near the medicinal fields outside the city, measuring three bays wide.
—At the Five Classics level, a two-striped servant household was entitled to a three-bay residence. Last month, they stayed in a two-bay hut near the medicinal fields, but knowing it was temporary, Chen Yun had tidied up those two bays well and saw no need to move again. This was truly Zhuang Jin’s first time enjoying a full two-striped servant’s accommodation.
This was no longer the outskirts; within the prefectural city, even a single bay room offered much more space. Though he had briefly seen it before and wasn’t impressed, after Chen Yun’s care, the place far exceeded his expectations.
Chen Yun led Zhuang Jin inside, saying, “Husband, take a look. If anything is not to your liking, I can adjust it.”
Upon entering, the first impression was cleanliness, then brightness.
He recalled that before, the room felt dim because it was backlit. Now, Chen Yun had papered the walls, instantly brightening the space. The wooden floor was spotless. On the center eight-immortals table sat a pot of lotus-petal pure-heart orchids—shouldered broad and heart wide, with slender stems and pristine petals—glistening softly in the light, a perfect finishing touch.
He remembered this fine orchid had been a gift from a guardian of Long Town near the medicinal fields. Chen Yun cared for it meticulously, and after a month, it had flourished beautifully.
Next, Chen Yun took Zhuang Jin upstairs.
He had been up once before, but the second floor lacked railings then, feeling empty and exposed. Now, bamboo blinds hung down to the floor, at the height of an ordinary table. This preserved walking space while appearing elegant and natural, blending harmoniously with the surroundings.
“How did you manage this, Yun?” Zhuang Jin asked in surprise.
Chen Yun smiled, “Using dark bamboo, woven both horizontally and vertically, cut into half-sized curtains… four broken bamboo poles stand vertically in the center, bound tightly with hemp thread for stability. At the horizontal bamboo where the curtains hang, black cloth strips wrap and sew the bamboo.”
Zhuang Jin admired Chen Yun’s ingenuity.
As they spoke, the wind rustled gently. Sunlight filtered through the dense green shade of an old tree before the eaves, casting shifting shadows on the window, silhouetting them and the hanging painting behind into a serene, pale blue glow.
As mentioned before, Chen Yun’s nature was open and generous, disliking jewelry and adornments, but she loved books, calligraphy, and paintings. When she found an interesting book, she would share its excerpts with Zhuang Jin during his rest breaks from training. Damaged calligraphy or paintings were repaired with old paper and hung to decorate the room.
Behind them hung a scroll Chen Yun brought—a painting of the Moon Elder, one hand holding a red silk thread, the other a staff, youthful-faced with white hair, galloping through a mist neither smoke nor fog. It instantly added a cultured and literary atmosphere to the pavilion.
Standing on the second floor within the newly installed railing, they could see the bustling visitors crossing the riverbank.
Chen Yun pointed out her plans to Zhuang Jin: “Our little pavilion is east of the bridge, north of the embankment alley. There are three portions of fields adjacent to the house that I asked about—they are usable. We can plant three ridges of vegetables there… near the fence, I plan to plant some chrysanthemum seeds. In autumn, the flowers and tree shadows will scatter along the fence; I think it will look beautiful.”
Zhuang Jin once again admired Chen Yun’s cleverness. Wherever she went, she adapted to the environment, masking flaws and making the residence comfortable and pleasing to the eye.
In such a pleasant environment, his mood was light, and his martial training seemed to progress better. Chen Yun stayed within his sight as she did near the medicinal fields—either reading or embroidering, or bringing tea and hot meals.
Time passed quickly, and by noon, a familiar visitor arrived.
…
This visitor was Jiao Kun, the third roommate from their original dormitory. Due to indulgence and laziness, he was later transferred to the southern city, where he lost an arm and his martial path was cut off.
Today, Jiao Kun came bearing a gift, sitting awkwardly and exchanging some polite but empty words before awkwardly trying to reminisce about their dorm days. He felt embarrassed but pressed on without leaving.
Zhuang Jin had no patience to waste and asked directly, “Jiao Kun, what brings you here?”
“To discuss something.”
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Jiao Kun hesitated before finally speaking haltingly.
It turned out his family had bought a stall in the street to sell snacks—the stall was the cornerstone of the Jiao family’s livelihood. When his family invested silver to send him to the martial recruitment, and later supported him with money and supplies, it all came from this stall.
Originally, the stall was purchased from a small gang that had illegally subdivided and sold it. Now that the gang was cleared out and the Shen family controlled the street, they no longer recognized the stall.
After all, the stall was sold by the previous gang; what did the Shen family have to do with it? The Shen family’s control was part of the street’s restructuring and revenue generation. Even if Jiao Kun was part of the Shen family, fairness dictated separating public and private interests.
This was a dilemma. Being strictly by the book would be unreasonable; granting a concession to Jiao Kun, who had been injured for the Shen family, would be reasonable and could be regulated. But since Jiao Kun lost his arm and martial path, he had lost standing, and the stall’s value—tens or hundreds of taels—did not warrant special treatment.
Jiao Kun finished speaking, nervously watching Zhuang Jin.
He was reluctant to come but his family insisted. They said the street captain was his old dorm mate and that since he had attended Shen’s wedding, this relationship should make things easy.
But Jiao Kun knew their relationship was superficial at best—during the dormitory days, his drinking with Xiang Qichen, who had been drunk once, had been the only link. Zhuang Jin’s tolerance was generosity, and he felt ashamed.
Zhuang Jin listened without comment, his expression indifferent: “This matter is for the subordinates to handle. I won’t interfere beyond my level or cause trouble. Do whatever is proper, follow the rules.”
If Jiao Kun wanted strict adherence to the rules, why come at all?
Though forced by his family, he had hoped Zhuang Jin would favor old dormitory ties and agree readily, so he could save face at home. But he hadn’t expected otherwise…
“Brother Zhuang, we were in the same dorm… I… you…” Jiao Kun stammered.
Zhuang Jin looked at him calmly and said coldly, “Dorm ties? Maybe you value that a lot, but to me, it was simply living in the same room for some time due to certain circumstances. Once out of the dorm, it’s bridge and road apart. We have no further connection—just like passing on the same street, nothing more.”
Of course, it wasn’t entirely useless; without that past, Jiao Kun wouldn’t have gotten this far. But ultimately, it was just a pretext; gaining more depended on one’s own worth and mutual benefit.
Did Jiao Kun have anything to trade for value?
Could he, like Lin Hong, Bi Kai, or Wu Hao, form a core team of subordinates? Or like Qian Wende, curry favor and provide emotional value? Jiao Kun could not.
As for gratitude, frankly, it was worthless.
Hearing this, Jiao Kun felt struck by lightning—the cold truth shattered all his illusions.
Shared dorm memories were a cherished feeling for him, a source of pride because they brought value. But for Zhuang Jin, no; if Jiao Kun hoped to leverage shared history for gain, it was a pipe dream.
“I…”
Jiao Kun wanted to leave with dignity but thinking of his parents’ worry and sleepless nights, his conscience forbade him. At last, he knelt with a thud: “Brother Zhuang, please…I beg you!”
Zhuang Jin’s expression remained indifferent as he lowered his eyelids and sipped tea.
Did a plea mean automatic agreement? Then tomorrow, wouldn’t everyone be kneeling outside?
Their suffering was not his doing; what concern was it of his?
“I—I understand!” Jiao Kun sighed bitterly, realizing the harshness of society and the cold cruelty of reality.
At that moment, he did not blame Zhuang Jin but only hated and regretted himself.
—He knew his family’s conditions were not good and that the money they scraped together to support his training was precious. Yet he wasted it playing and slacking. Despite his talent and being the second in the dorm to become a formal martial artist, he fell behind and was sent south, losing an arm and his martial path.
Late at night, lying in bed, his regrets were always profound, but never as intense as now—if regret could be measured, now it would be a deep, gut-wrenching sorrow.
“If I had worked hard back then, maybe now this problem could be solved on my own…”
At this thought, his injured arm ached faintly. He stood up and left in desolation.
…
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After Jiao Kun left, Zhuang Jin called Qian Wende to inquire and confirm the matter.
Qian Wende spoke eagerly.
He was aware of the situation and could have resolved it for Jiao Kun, but why should he?
He was always the one taking advantage; doing someone else’s favor using his own goodwill? If he did, would he still be Qian Wende?
“Help Jiao Kun settle this,” Zhuang Jin said casually.
“Ah!” Qian Wende quickly agreed, beating his chest with assurance: “Brother Zhuang, rest assured. Tonight—no, this morning—I’ll handle it and make sure it’s done properly!”
Jiao Kun would naturally be reluctant, but with Zhuang Jin’s order, it was another matter. Not only would it be done, but quickly and well!
As Qian Wende left, he admired Zhuang Jin’s sentimentality—even such a distant connection as Jiao Kun was granted face. How much more for someone closer like himself?
“Following such a leader, there’s a future!”
If loyalty could be measured, Qian Wende’s would have jumped several points. No surprise he would later promote Zhuang Jin’s virtues and boost the loyalty of other martial artists in the street.
Zhuang Jin saw Qian Wende’s expression and knew his thoughts.
Entrusting Qian Wende was both practical and strategic—to have him promote and demonstrate ‘buying a horse with a thousand gold’ to others.
“My husband is thoughtful!”
Chen Yun, witnessing the whole affair, sighed, “Brother Zhuang didn’t agree outright—it sounded harsh but revealed reality. Though hard to accept, it breaks illusions and fosters growth… After the visitor left, he still helped behind the scenes…”
“People can be taught by people, if not then by things, and if that fails, only a hard wall makes one turn back. But I didn’t consider him that much.”
Zhuang Jin shook his head: “I just remembered the slight bond, lent a hand, and showed it to the subordinates.”
“As for not agreeing openly, that was to set an attitude—our relationship is not that close, no such bond, to avoid future entanglements.”
In front of Chen Yun, he didn’t hide his true self, as he had confided before their wedding day: “I was never truly a good man.”
Chen Yun smiled gently, knowing that no matter what, this was her husband, and he was not heartless or indifferent.
She opened the window. Fresh air mingled with the afternoon sun, coming in along with the scent of flowers and trees. In the distance, the southern half of the city seemed to have just had a sunshower, with a brilliant rainbow rising.
Summer weather was like this—the sun rising in the east and rain falling in the west; it seemed not clear but was clear after all.
…
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