Health and happiness

Fortunately, Turtle arrived just in time, driving his battered van into Fatty’s courtyard. After he shut the gate, Zhang Pa led his two big dogs up from the basement and into the car. Fatty, carrying an emergency lantern and some food, took the front seat, and they set off.

Turtle asked, “Should we call Sissy?”

Zhang Pa was curious. “He’s home?”

“He’s out of luck, stuck at home negotiating,” Turtle said with a loud laugh.

Fatty frowned. “Why are you so happy about his misfortune? That’s not right. For something like this, you should’ve told me earlier so we could celebrate his bad luck together.”

Turtle replied, “I just found out. So, are we calling him or not?”

“Can you get him out?” Fatty asked.

“Worth a try.” Turtle made the call, but the result was tragic—Sissy couldn’t get away.

As the car reached the main road, Turtle recounted, “Just now, a van full of people went to Sissy’s house. I thought it was a fight, so I went over to check. Turns out, a pregnant woman showed up to demand answers—a real family affair. I saw at least three old ladies there, ha!”

Fatty said, “You can’t throw punches in that situation. Three old ladies—would you dare hit them?” The latter half was directed at Zhang Pa.

“You’re out of your mind,” Zhang Pa replied, ignoring the question.

Fatty turned to Turtle. “So what’s Sissy going to do?”

“No idea. But I saw his grandma come out.”

Fatty sighed. “That’s bad. Sissy’s terrified of his grandma. He’s finished this time.”

“You two are really shameless,” Zhang Pa said. “All this talk and not a single word for that poor woman.”

Fatty shrugged. “What could I possibly do? Besides, you know, being fat has its perks—my mom’s never pressured me into blind dates.”

“You win,” Zhang Pa said, shaking his head.

They drove north, soon leaving the city, and stopped in a deserted spot. Zhang Pa took the dogs for a walk while Turtle and Fatty set out food and started eating.

These two had no sense of propriety; whether driving or not, they had to drink. Zhang Pa couldn’t be bothered to scold them. After a walk, he clipped the leashes to his belt and joined the two idiots for a drink.

After four years of Zhang Pa’s strict discipline, the pair had learned not to curse when drinking. In the past, they couldn’t utter a sentence without swearing, but since Zhang Pa disliked it, the whole group had forced themselves to change.

They didn’t really have a choice. Zhang Pa would actually hit people—regardless of how long he’d known you, or if you’d just been toasting together the moment before. If you swore at the table after a warning, he’d drag you aside and give you a beating.

If anyone felt up to it, they could try fighting back, but in the whole neighborhood, not a single person could withstand more than two punches from Zhang Pa. The reason the fitness club owner wanted to sign up for televised fighting matches was all thanks to being beaten by Zhang Pa. With Zhang Pa fighting under his gym’s name, a few matches would make him famous in no time.

Yet, for all his ferocity, Zhang Pa stayed home and wrote for a living.

Fatty and his friends loved to analyze Zhang Pa, especially over drinks. After six months, they concluded that Zhang Pa never really considered them true friends; they were just acquaintances. Still, he was reliable—if you were in trouble, he’d help. The coolest part was that he’d help you, but never ask for help in return.

With that understanding—and after Zhang Pa had helped them in a few fights over the years—they’d all grown accustomed to this arrangement.

As the saying goes, dragons stick with dragons, shrimps with shrimps, and Fatty drinks with Zhang Pa without cursing.

So they drank until ten-thirty, finishing off a whole case before heading back. Turtle drove drunk, but in the dead of night, no one stopped him. There were no cars or people in the outskirts—if there was an accident, it’d be them hitting a building.

On the way home, they called Zhang Fourth, who had already returned and was waiting at the intersection.

When they stopped, Zhang Fourth got in. The two dogs perked up, leaping on him with bites and licks. Zhang Fourth was delighted, thanking Fatty and the others profusely. Then he said, “Someone really is watching me. You guys need to be careful.”

Zhang Pa said, “It’s not the theft that’s scary, but the thief who keeps thinking of you. Got any relatives in the countryside? Take the dogs and stay there for a while.”

Zhang Fourth considered it. “That could work.”

That’s how things go—a single word from a high-up, and suddenly a crowd eager to impress will materialize. Besides, catching stray dogs was official business, according to the regulations on dog ownership. Large breeds weren’t allowed in the city; owning one was illegal, and dog-catching was law enforcement.

The next morning, Turtle drove out for a spin. By the time he returned, Zhang Fourth and his two dogs had vanished.

That day, Yun Zheng had to go to school. Zhang Pa personally escorted him.

Yun Zheng tried every excuse: staying home to care for his dear mother, or going to the hospital to look after the other four monkeys. But Zhang Pa wouldn’t take the bait, so Yun Zheng had no choice but to go with him.

At the school, Zhang Pa left his phone number with the homeroom teacher. “If Yun Zheng ever skips class, call me.”

“You left it last time,” the teacher said.

“I was afraid you’d lose it,” Zhang Pa replied.

“You really are responsible,” the teacher remarked. “Don’t worry. If he skips, I’ll let you know.”

It was a ceremonious handover—if nothing else, then for all the money Zhang Pa had given. So much money, in fact, that Yun Zheng felt too embarrassed to skip school any longer.

Besides, a man keeps his word. He promised to attend school, so he would, even if knives were falling from the sky.

With that settled, Zhang Pa swung by the hospital to check on the four monkeys.

They were tough as nails, unfazed by all their injuries. When Zhang Pa arrived, the four of them were sitting together, bragging mainly about how to get revenge.

Most outrageous of all—they were smoking! Their roommate had been forced to wander the hallway with his IV drip just to escape the smoke.

Zhang Pa entered without saying a word, his face expressionless.

Old Pi, sitting opposite, caught sight of him and froze. He quickly stubbed out his cigarette and shoved it into his pocket. The other three, sensing something was wrong, turned and did the same.

Still, Zhang Pa didn’t move or speak.

Old Pi walked over with a nervous smile. “Hey, bro, you’re here.”

Zhang Pa opened the door wide, stepped inside, and opened the window. Then he looked at the four monkeys. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Bro, we’re wounded.”

Zhang Pa smiled. “Your faces aren’t hurt, are they?” With that, he started slapping faces, one after another, without a word. The loud smacks echoed through the hall, drawing a crowd to the door.

Ten slaps each, not one less, all with equal force. By the end, each monkey’s mouth was bloody.

A nurse rushed in, asking what had happened.

“Nothing,” said Zhang Pa, and the monkeys echoed him.

“Well, be more careful,” the nurse said before leaving, pausing to stare at the crowd outside the door.

These four were real troublemakers—flirting with nurses, cursing doctors and other patients, foul-mouthed all day long. Normal people would just avoid conflict; no one wanted to argue with such garbage.

But Zhang Pa knew them too well. After the beating, he asked, “Any complaints?”

Half of them were dazed by the blows, the other half just used to it. No one answered.

“Good,” said Zhang Pa. “Consider that agreement. One more thing: no revenge.”

No one spoke; some just wiped the blood from their mouths.

Zhang Pa turned to Crazy. “Want to stay at my place? Quit smoking first, and no cursing.”

Crazy grunted, blood dribbling from his mouth. Luckily, his right hand was wrapped in gauze—he wiped his lips with ease.

Zhang Pa went on, “Toss the cigarettes. I’ll leave my number with the nurses. If they tell me you do anything you shouldn’t in the hospital, you won’t get discharged.” With that, he left.

Old Pi wanted to follow, but after all those slaps, he was reeling. It took a while before he could get up. By the time he stepped out, he saw Zhang Pa thanking the nurses.

Old Pi sighed inwardly, then went back to tell the other three, “He’s not messing around.”

“No kidding. If he were, would we be this scared of him?” Fang Zijiao wiped his mouth and replied.

Old Pi said, “Enough. You’re scared; I respect him.”

“You’re crazy! He slapped you and you respect him?” Fang Zijiao snapped, tossing his tissue aside.

Old Pi hurried to pick it up. “Are you nuts? Don’t litter in the hospital.”

“What, you angling to be a model patient?” Fang Zijiao shot back.

Old Pi snorted. “If you’ve got guts, tell Zhang Pa. Go on, he’s outside.”

“I’m not stupid. A wise man avoids immediate trouble.” Fang Zijiao looked at his IV bag. “How long is this going to take?”

Indeed, these four idiots smoked while hooked up to IV drips—doctors and nurses couldn’t control them. If anyone tried, they’d curse them out. If the police showed up, they’d hide the cigarettes and light up as soon as the coast was clear.

Old Pi thought it over. “I think we’re in for it.”

“What do you mean? You don’t think Zhang Pa will be watching us twenty-four seven, do you?” Fang Zijiao asked.

“Hard to say,” Old Pi sighed. “Only Zhang Pa could get away with hitting me. Anyone else, I’d take a blade to their family.”

Crazy cursed, “Stop bluffing. When haven’t you ended up beaten to a pulp by him?”

“Hey, what’s Zhang Pa’s story, anyway? How’s he so tough? One guy taking on a whole street—like an action movie,” Old Pi wondered.

Fang Zijiao glanced at him. “Why aren’t you swearing now?”

“Only idiots swear. Swear and you’ll get hit—damn, you set me up,” Old Pi cursed.

“Bunch of fools,” Crazy muttered, raising his IV bag and heading back to his bed. “I’m keeping my distance. Otherwise, I’ll end up homeless.”

“You’re really staying at Zhang Pa’s? Come stay with me instead,” Old Pi offered.

“Are you serious? If anyone knows what your mom’s like, it’s you. If I’d been born in Hong Kong, I’d be Chan Ho-nam and you’d be Chicken,” Crazy sighed.

“You’d be dead long ago,” Zhang Pa said, re-entering the room. “I’ve told the doctor to put all four of you troublemakers in one room, right across from the nurses’ station. Don’t give me any reason to deal with you, and good luck.”

“Come on, Zhang Pa…” the four monkeys started, but he ignored them and strode away.

Da Niu, whose injuries were the worst, asked, “Does Zhang Pa hit women?”

Old Pi replied, “Haven’t you seen it?”

“Seen what?” Fang Zijiao asked.

“Him hitting women,” Old Pi said. “A couple of years ago, three tomboys messed with Zhang Pa—he turned them all into swollen-faced pigs. I’m not exaggerating. He only slapped their faces, didn’t touch anywhere else, but their faces were so swollen I’d never seen anything like it. After that, I was convinced. If he can do that to women, what hope do we have?”