Madman!

Chapter 55: The Weight of the Past

Today, the eldest brother also came hopping out of his room.

His left leg still couldn't bear weight, but the good news was that his right leg could manage well enough to walk.

The whole family eating together made for a warm and harmonious scene.

"Eat more — look how thin you've gotten!" Huang Meizhen kept piling food onto Shu Fen's plate with her chopsticks. "If there's something you like, just help yourself."

"Ma, me too!" Chen Wuqi thrust his bowl forward immediately.

"You're a grown boy and still need to be fed?" Chen Hanliang shot him a glare, and Chen Wuqi instantly pulled his bowl back.

A cacophony erupted from upstairs — wailing, cursing, crying, all blending into a chaotic mess.

Huang Meizhen had no idea what was happening. She immediately opened the door to watch the commotion, then pushed open the iron gate and stepped out to gather intel.

She returned moments later, her expression conspiratorial as she whispered:

"That gossip-mongering Yu woman upstairs — karma finally caught up with her. Someone just doused her entire apartment in manure! Can't even have her New Year's dinner now." As she spoke, Huang Meizhen snuck a glance at Shu Fen."We're eating here — could you not bring that up?" Chen Hanliang grumbled irritably.

"I absolutely will bring it up. People shouldn't be so wicked, or sooner or later they'll get what's coming to them!" Huang Meizhen muttered.

"I used to work at the martial arts hall, but now that I'm busy training, the job takes up too much time. I'll ask Senior Brother if Shu Fen can take over the cleaning there. She could sleep at the hall at night. Fifteen hundred a month." Chen Wujun suddenly spoke up while eating.

"Just cleaning in the evening, and room included, for fifteen hundred a month? That's a great deal — ask the hall master!" Huang Meizhen's interest was instantly piqued.

Shu Fen lifted her head to look at Chen Wujun, her eyes brimming with hope.

Young as she was, she already understood how cold and fickle the world could be, and she could tell kindness from cruelty.

"I'll ask in a bit. Shouldn't be a problem," Chen Wujun said.

"You're going to the hall again later?"

"I need to head to Master's place. Won't be back till midnight," Chen Wujun replied.

"Then let me slice up some roast meats for you to bring along," Huang Meizhen offered.

"And grab those two bottles of wine from the shelf," Chen Hanliang added. The wine on the shelf was stock he'd been saving — he couldn't even bear to drink it himself.

Chen Wujun had received plenty of care at the martial arts hall. He'd even worked there before. Now that he was visiting Master's place in the evening, he certainly couldn't show up empty-handed.

Huang Meizhen scarfed down the rest of her meal, then opened the door and went back out to enjoy the spectacle.

She returned half an hour later, thoroughly satisfied, and sliced up some roast meats for Chen Wujun, then took the two bottles of wine down from the shelf and bundled everything together.

Chen Wujun carried the bundle straight to the gambling den.

At this hour, there were fewer gamblers around.

After eight o'clock, though, the place would come alive — and during the New Year period, it would be even livelier than usual.

Though customers were sparse, the den was far from quiet. All the foot soldiers with nothing to do were gathered there, and the food was already laid out and ready.

"Brother Jun, let me raise a glass to you! Brother Jun may be young, but your skills and your brains — I respect that more than anything!" Ah Fei was the first to snatch up his glass.

"You lot still have to hold down the fort at the den over New Year's, so I came to share the reunion dinner with you." Chen Wujun smiled and clinked glasses with Ah Fei, downing half a glass of beer.

After Ah Fei came Curry, then the foot soldiers lined up one after another to toast him.

Once the meal at the den was finished, Chen Wujun headed out of the Walled City carrying quite a haul.

This was far more than just what his family had sent along — he'd had people prepare everything in advance.

He made his way to Ma Tau Wai, an area lined with old tenement buildings that was even livelier than the Walled City.

He knocked on Zhou Qing's door. It was Senior Brother Li Yaozu who answered.

"Thought you weren't coming till tomorrow!"

"Brought some dishes over!" Chen Wujun grinned.

"Come in!" Senior Brother Li took the items from Chen Wujun's hands and carried them to the kitchen.

"Master!" Chen Wujun stepped inside to find Zhou Qing on the sofa watching television — a currently popular series called Star Trek: The Next Generation.

"Find yourself a seat," Zhou Qing said, glancing up at him briefly.

"Master, you watch this too!" Chen Wujun settled onto one end of the sofa, his curiosity piqued.

He never would have expected someone like his master to watch science fiction.

Chen Wujun watched along while making idle conversation. "Master, when do you think we'll make it to space? Like in the show — flying around in starships..."

Zhou Qing's expression shifted several times, but he said nothing for a long while.

Moments later, Chen Wujun got up to help Senior Brother Li move the table and set out all the dishes.

What surprised Chen Wujun was that despite there being only three of them, Senior Brother Li had set out four place settings.

"Senior Brother, is someone else coming?"

"No." Despite saying this, Senior Brother Li still placed four stools around the table.

A moment later, Master Zhou Qing emerged from his room carrying a photograph. He placed it at one of the settings, then picked up a wine cup, filled it, and set it before the photo.

Only then did Chen Wujun understand. Curious, he leaned in for a closer look. The photograph showed thirteen people in total — men and women both, ten men and three women.

Some looked like old farmers, pipe in hand, faces etched with hardship. Others appeared ordinary, wearing athletic clothes, their features unremarkable. And there were striking women too, dressed fashionably yet radiating a fierce, heroic energy...

They all shared one thing in common: broad shoulders, powerful builds, eyes brimming with vitality and spirit — an unmistakable air of distinction.

One glance was enough to know they were martial artists.

Chen Wujun studied the photo for a while before finally spotting Master Zhou Qing. The Zhou Qing in the photograph looked to be only around thirty — far younger than now, vibrant and imposing.

"Master... are they... martial uncles and aunts?" Chen Wujun's curiosity stirred.

"No."

Zhou Qing raised his wine cup in a silent toast to the empty air, then tilted his head back and drank it down.

A long time passed before he finally picked up his chopsticks. He pointed at the old farmer in the photo and spoke in an even, unhurried tone: "His name is Zhuang Huai. Just like he looks — a simple farmer. The Wolf Fist you learned? That was his specialty."

Then he pointed to a man in a suit and glasses, someone with a somewhat scholarly air: "His name is Yin Zhou. The Spirit Ape Hanging Beam Stance you learned — that was his family's art..."

He pointed next to a man built like a bear, massive and imposing: "His name is Yang Dianqing. He practiced Intention-Shape Fist. The Old Bear Hugging Tree Stance you learned comes from his lineage..."

Then he indicated a woman in athletic wear who appeared to be in her thirties: "Her name is Cheng Lin. The Swimming Dragon Palm you learned was passed down from her branch..."

Zhou Qing pointed out each person with a calm detachment, but a heavy weight settled in Chen Wujun's chest.

It felt as though every sentence Zhou Qing spoke, every person he identified, carried a gravity that pressed down on the soul.

"Master, are they now..." Chen Wujun asked softly.

"Dead." Zhou Qing's voice was calm. "So don't mention any of these names to anyone."

"Understood," Chen Wujun nodded.

He had a creeping sense that Zhou Qing might be entangled in something monumental.

That was why, from the very moment Chen Wujun became his disciple, Zhou Qing had warned him never to reveal who his master was.

Everything he'd learned came from these people. They were undoubtedly supreme masters, yet all of them were dead — and their names could never be spoken aloud.

'I must never let anyone find out who my master is. Otherwise, I might end up beaten to death.'

"Master, what's your specialty?" Chen Wujun sensed the heavy atmosphere and, eyes darting, tried to shift the mood.

"You'll find out in time," Zhou Qing replied in a slow, measured tone.

Hearing this, Chen Wujun didn't press further. Instead, he steered the conversation toward some questions he'd been mulling over the past few days while practicing Swimming Dragon Palm.

Zhou Qing answered each one patiently.

At half past eleven, Chen Wujun left Zhou Qing's place and walked home, turning things over in his mind.

'I wonder what kind of trouble Master got mixed up in — what kind of catastrophe he was swept into.'

'So many supreme masters, and every last one of them dead.'

Chen Wujun couldn't puzzle out any answers. After a moment, he set the matter aside.

'Whatever it was, it has nothing to do with me.'

'As long as no one finds out who my master is, that's all that matters.'

Back in the Walled City, an amusing thought suddenly struck Chen Wujun.

'They say Shu Fen is eating from a hundred households. Turns out I've been learning from a hundred masters!'

...

Early the next morning, Chen Wujun headed to the gambling den with a small bag in hand.

The bag was stuffed with red envelopes.

"Brother Jun — wishing you a prosperous New Year, wealth and good fortune!" The foot soldiers launched into a barrage of New Year's greetings the moment they spotted Chen Wujun.

"Such sweet talkers... here, this one's yours!" Chen Wujun handed out a red envelope on the spot.

Each one contained a hundred dollars.

He spent over an hour at the den, distributing red envelopes to Curry and all his men, before finally heading out to meet Ah Hao. Together, they went to see Shark Jiu.

Shark Jiu's residence was on the twelfth floor, right above Jindi Finance — five units knocked into one, roughly a hundred and fifty square meters. By Walled City standards, it was a mansion.

"Sister Jiu — wishing you a prosperous New Year, wealth and good fortune!" Chen Wujun flashed a beaming smile the moment he laid eyes on Shark Jiu.

"Grinning like that... a grown man like you isn't waiting for a red envelope, is he?"

Shark Jiu grabbed red envelopes from a cabinet by the door and pressed one each into Chen Wujun's and Ah Hao's hands. She'd clearly prepared them well in advance.

"Come in."

Chen Wujun gave the envelope a squeeze — thick. Probably a thousand dollars.

Once inside, he looked around. The floors were bare cement. There was one bedroom, one bathroom, and beyond that just a living room. Apart from a single sofa, the living room was completely empty — hollow and sparse.

Other than its sheer size, the place was remarkably austere.

Yet Chen Wujun had barely taken a few steps before his gaze sharpened.

There, in the center of Shark Jiu's living room floor, rings of footprints were pressed deep into the cement — as though carved into it, crisp and unmistakable.