A new year unfolds with a smiling face.

“Remember this: I’m the boss of Xingfu Alley.” Zhang Pa glanced at the three young women. “Just keep selling. Give it your all.” He turned and left.

Of course, the girls hurled curses after him. Wu Third wasn’t sure what to make of Zhang Pa, so he hushed the three women and started making phone calls.

The world holds this cruel truth: many working girls are as naive as pigs. The money they earn selling their bodies for years... is nearly all gone in the end. There are countless ways to lose it—no need to go into detail. Just take Xingfu Alley for example: girls come and go, and most leave in the same state they arrived. Money slips through their fingers, but illnesses cling to their bodies.

Those able to save money are already the elite among these women. It’s not slander—most of them smoke and drink, and both cost money. Clothes and makeup drain their wallets too. When bored, they gamble and lose. Some unfortunates fall into drugs... the truly unlucky are robbed of money, dignity, and even their lives.

Don’t think lying down can earn you easy money—this is a high-risk trade. The rates of disease, death, and disappearance far surpass mining accidents.

Wu Third called around to find out who Zhang Pa was, thinking that if he wasn’t too formidable, they could find a way to deal with him. The reply: “If you mean the guy upstairs at Old Wang’s place, the one who stares at his computer all day, just let it go.”

Wu Third’s main goal was to make money. He’d struggled in unfamiliar cities, endured all sorts of humiliation—what was a few harsh words from Zhang Pa? After some thought, he decided to let the matter rest.

Zhang Pa pretended Wu Third didn’t exist. A man who lives off women, no matter how tough, has his limits. Zhang Pa focused on his typing, but halfway through, Fatty called: “Your boys just got knifed.”

“What happened?” Zhang Pa asked.

“Nothing much. They’re in the hospital now. Are you coming?”

“I’m not going. If they won’t go to school, getting hurt serves them right.”

“Can you at least figure out what happened before you start scolding people?” Fatty grumbled. “I’ll call you back soon.”

Zhang Pa called Yun Zheng, the ringleader. He answered quickly: “Hey, Zhang, what’s up?”

“You tell me. Didn’t you say you all were going to school?”

“We were. We’ve been going every day. But some old enemies saw us and blocked us at the school.”

So it was trouble I brought on them, Zhang Pa thought, a wave of frustration washing over him. Advising them to go to school had backfired. He asked, “Where are you now?”

“I’m at my mom’s place. Are you coming?”

“I’ll come,” Zhang Pa sighed. He hung up and hurried to finish his work.

It wasn’t that he was heartless—the injured were already in the hospital, and Fatty was there too. His presence wouldn’t change much now; best to finish his updates first.

With his mind preoccupied, he typed faster than usual, finishing in just over half an hour. As he wrapped up, Fatty called to fill him in, and Zhang Pa set off by taxi.

The attackers were from Xingfu Alley too, or rather, from a group that had since moved away and joined up with some local thugs to take revenge on Yun Zheng’s crew.

Yun Zheng and his four friends were notorious—they were truly fierce. Zhang Pa had witnessed their fights before. After one especially brutal brawl, he’d beaten them for three days straight, right out on the street, until they finally yielded.

Yun Zheng was their leader and was now at the hospital looking after his mother. The other four weren’t so lucky. Worse still, Zhang Pa had forbidden them from carrying knives to school, so they were unarmed and got bullied.

Students getting knifed at the school gate terrified the principal, who immediately had teachers take them to the hospital and rushed over himself, instructing teachers to contact the parents. But these boys’ parents were hardly model guardians; it took more than half an hour of calls to reach even one.

When Fatty arrived at the hospital, two parents were still unreachable, not answering their phones. Luckily, none of the injuries were life-threatening. One had a broken bone, which, since he was still growing, required conservative treatment. Another was wrapped up like a mummy, but would recover.

No police were called—some parents hadn’t arrived yet, and the school didn’t want to make a scene.

Don’t blame the school; these were matters of necessity. Across the country, for any incident, the first reaction is always: how do we smooth this over? Whom do we call?

The two parents who had arrived were both mothers—one slightly older, wearing work clothes, likely having rushed from her shift; the other younger, in a short skirt and flashy makeup. Their commonality was a lack of expression: neither sorrow nor anger, just sitting and watching their sons.

To be a parent to these “monkeys”—there’s no word sufficient to describe the exhaustion.

After checking with Fatty to make sure the boys were alright, Zhang Pa went in to comfort the two women. By age, he could only call them “sisters.”

Another thing they had in common: they thought well of Zhang Pa. Perhaps, lacking education themselves, they admired someone who wrote stories.

After a few words, the principal came to discuss the next steps with the parents—whether to call the police, compensation, and so on. The two mothers were reasonable, asking only that medical bills be covered. From their faces, it was clear they were deeply disappointed in their sons.

The principal weighed his options. If the demands were low, perhaps the school could pay. But what about after? These five would surely seek revenge...

The more he thought, the greater his headache. Maybe the only solution was to send the boys to juvenile detention.

Another hour passed before the other two parents arrived.

These two were a different breed. If the earlier boys were trouble due to lack of discipline, these two had learned their bad habits directly from their parents.

A burly, unshaven man in his forties stormed into the ward area, not even glancing at his son. “Where’s the teacher? Where?”

The principal, a small, rather tragic figure, stepped forward. “I’m the principal.”

“Even better,” the man declared. “How much are you paying?”

Before the principal could answer, a woman in her forties rushed in wailing, “Oh, my son, what a hard life!”

Zhang Pa curled his lip in disdain. “She’s a real pro,” he said loudly enough for the corridor to hear.

But the woman ignored him, continuing her dramatic wails.

The principal tried to calm them, telling them to stop crying and discuss the matter, but they wouldn’t listen. Their commotion brought the doctors and nurses out, who also tried to quiet them.

Still, they refused to comply. “Why should we be quiet?” they shouted. “If this isn’t resolved, we’ll take you to court!”

Fatty couldn’t take it anymore and nudged Zhang Pa.

Zhang Pa sighed. Why did trouble always fall to him? He stepped forward and said, “Shut up.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but the man and woman fell silent at once, though they still looked unwilling and tried to argue. “My son’s lying in there, beaten and knifed, and you won’t let us cry?”

Zhang Pa couldn’t be bothered to argue. “I said, shut up.”

The man hesitated, then suddenly began to curse, “This is a hospital, there are cameras, if you’ve got the nerve, why don’t you kill—” The words hadn’t finished when Zhang Pa kicked him in the chest, knocking him down, then bent over and pummeled his ribs with his fists.

After several blows, the man’s face was flushed, drenched in cold sweat, unable to utter a sound.

Zhang Pa said, “Feel free to sue me.”

Seeing Zhang Pa’s display, the principal’s eyes lit up—what a formidable man.

Zhang Pa said, “Everyone go home. I’ll stay here. If there’s anything, we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

“Is that alright?” the homeroom teacher asked.

“Thank you for your hard work, coming out so late. Once the kids are discharged, I’ll treat you and the principal to barbecue—you must come, I mean it.”

The two mothers, already respectful of Zhang Pa, hesitated to leave him to watch over the boys alone.

Zhang Pa reassured them, “All four are injured; I can look after them. You all need to work—go home. If anything comes up, we’ll handle it tomorrow.”

Fatty backed him up. “Exactly. We’ll talk in the morning. Go on.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the principal and homeroom teacher left. Before departing, they exchanged numbers with Zhang Pa. The principal felt this was a man who could resolve things.

The big man who’d been floored lay there for a full twenty minutes before recovering. By then, the shrewish mother had already gone. Despite her resentment, she dared not challenge Zhang Pa.

The man slowly sat up, shooting Zhang Pa a venomous look.

Zhang Pa sneered, “What are you staring at? With your kind of character... damn.” For once, Mr. Zhang actually swore. Then, “Your son’s hurt. You come in, ignore him, and ask for money first? You’re a real father. Let me give you a piece of advice: watch yourself, or one day your son will cut you down.”

Fatty was the last to leave. When everyone else had gone, he stayed a bit longer, taking the chance to probe. “Tell me the truth, brother, have you ever killed anyone?”

“Are you nuts? This is a hospital—get yourself checked,” Zhang Pa retorted gruffly.

Fatty said, “You always sound like you’re about to kill someone.”

“Are you an idiot? Tell me, what does bloodlust even look like?” Zhang Pa said. “Now get lost.”

Fatty said, “I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning.” With a wave, he left.

Of the four boys, two shared a room, one was in a separate ward, and one in the corridor.

Fortunately, none were seriously hurt. The one in the corridor was already joking with Zhang Pa.

Zhang Pa said, “This was my fault. I pushed you to go to school and now you’ve got yourself in trouble. But how do you have so many enemies?”

The boy, called Old Pi, grinned. “We have no idea.”

“If you ever find out, you’ll probably already be dead,” Zhang Pa said. “Go to sleep.”

“Keep me company for a bit, otherwise it’s too boring,” Old Pi said.

“You must not be in pain, then. If you won’t sleep, I will,” Zhang Pa replied.

Old Pi immediately tried to move out of bed, but his injuries made him wince in pain. “Zhang, please, let me do the night shift.”

“I might as well finish you off,” Zhang Pa said. “What do you want to eat? I’ll get it for you tomorrow.”

“Don’t be so good to us, Zhang, or we’ll fall in love with you,” Old Pi joked.

“Are you looking for trouble? Flirting with me?” Zhang Pa said. “Go to sleep.”

Old Pi chuckled and slowly lay down.

Once he was settled, Zhang Pa said, “Let’s just call it even.”

Old Pi shot upright. “What? Just let it go? We got sliced up for nothing?”

“I said it’s over, so it’s over,” Zhang Pa said. “Consider it a lesson bought and paid for.”

“That’s not fair!” Old Pi protested.