Chapter Five: Conflict

A few days later.

"Old Zhou, you’ve been looking quite haggard lately, haven't you?"

"Oh, it’s you, Xiao Chen... Nonsense, I’m perfectly fine."

Chen Guangliang chuckled inwardly. He hadn't expected that his casual remarks the other day—about the life expectancy of rickshaw pullers—would actually weigh so heavily on Old Zhou’s mind.

Amitabha! My apologies, my apologies!

"So you’re the one called Xiao Chen? Do you realize you swiped a big customer from me the other day?"

A young man with a distinct Subei accent approached Chen Guangliang, his tone clearly hostile. This was Hu San, a man who had sworn allegiance to the "gangster boss" Gu Zhuxuan, though he was nothing more than a common rickshaw puller himself.

Chen Guangliang feigned confusion, putting on a classic look of feigned ignorance. "I don't think so. I have no idea what you're talking about?"

Lately, he had been earning seventy cents a day, a legendary feat for a newcomer. Aside from his physical stamina, the main reason was his penchant for "taking the initiative." Naturally, this invited jealousy; it was unavoidable.

"Don't play dumb with me. That fat man heading to the racecourse last time—you snatched him right out from under me by waving a newspaper. Do you have any idea how many years I, Hu San, have been in this business, or how many brothers we have in the Gu transport agency? And you dared to pull a stunt like that?"

"Commander La-Kui" Gu Zhuxuan gathered a large group of fellow Subei natives under his wing. In later years, he would be known as the "Fourth Tycoon of Shanghai," ranking behind Huang Jinrong, Du Yuesheng, and Zhang Xiaolin. In fact, Gu Zhuxuan had the best outcome among the "Four Tycoons." Although he did not flee in 1949, he had hedged his bets, and since his youngest son was a commander in the Red detachment, he lived out his final years quite comfortably.

"Oh, that matter. I remember now... but didn't the customer have the final say?" Chen Guangliang replied with a fearless air, his attitude completely different from when he dealt with customers.

"You’re asking for death, you punk!"

Hu San, a man in his twenties with a twisted personality who liked to bully the weak and fear the strong, raised his hand to strike. Two other pullers, both fellow Subei natives, also stepped forward with menacing looks. Naturally, a crowd of curious pullers began to gather.

A classic drama of the social underclass was unfolding. But clearly, Chen Guangliang wouldn't be so "ruthless in his pursuit of money" if he didn't have something to rely on. He had been on guard the whole time; he grabbed Hu San’s hand mid-swing and clamped down with a vice-like grip, rendering him immobile.

If he didn't have this physical strength, he would have been trampled long ago.

"Brother Hu, we’re all just struggling to make a living. No need to get physical and invite trouble, right? If the patrolmen show up, it won't matter which boss you serve—everyone gets locked up for three days, and we all lose out."

He kept his tone polite. Hu San felt as though Chen Guangliang possessed immense, supernatural strength; no matter how he struggled, he couldn't break free, and the pressure made him feel as if his bones were about to shatter. His two companions, seeing the situation and realizing something was amiss, hesitated to join in and instead began scanning the surroundings with caution.

Hu San, seeing the standoff, could only leave with a threat: "You think you can just walk away from this? We are people of Mr. Gu, the 'Tycoon of Jiangbei'."

Chen Guangliang laughed. "Business is business. Whoever has the skill to win the customer gets the fare. If you don't believe me, go back and ask Mr. Gu if that’s not how it works!" With that, he flung the man’s hand away. Under the sheer force, Hu San staggered back three or four steps.

"You’ve got guts! Just you wait!"

"I’ll be here."

The so-called "disciples of the Gu family" were, to put it plainly, just registered names; many of them had likely never even met Gu Zhuxuan in person. It was like the Green Gang claiming hundreds of thousands of members—if they actually needed to charge into battle, it would be a miracle if they could scrape together thirty thousand. A thug is a thug; a warlord with five thousand soldiers could wipe out the entire Green Gang. So, while the Gu clan claimed thousands of followers, having a hundred thugs and a few dozen willing to die for the cause was considered impressive. And those truly willing to die had long since stopped pulling rickshaws for other jobs. Therefore, Chen Guangliang didn't take Hu San seriously at all.

"So much youthful vigor, you young people!" Old Zhou remarked, seeing the tension dissipate.

"Fights can lead to friendships, right?"

Surprisingly, after this incident, other rickshaw pullers began to greet Chen Guangliang on their own initiative. Subei people were known for cliquishness, and in the Zhabei area, the Gu transport agency usually acted with impunity. The fact that Chen Guangliang stood his ground without fear showed he had guts, and the fact that he walked away unscathed showed he had both courage and strategy. Chen Guangliang welcomed them all, always ready with a few words. For friends, there is wine; for wolves, there is a shotgun.

"Sir, need a ride?"

Watching Chen Guangliang return to his aggressive pursuit of business, Old Zhou couldn't help but laugh: "That kid is a real glutton for work!"

"He’s going to work himself to death."

"Hu San, are we just letting this slide today?"

"Hmph, I’ll settle the score another day. That kid is a trained fighter." Hu San walked to his rickshaw and pulled up his sleeve, staring at the red, painful skin on his arm. "Is he naturally gifted with such strength?" He felt a twinge of fear. Although he was a follower of Mr. Gu, he clearly wouldn't get much support for a petty dispute like this. Even his two fellow townsmen had been intimidated and hadn't lifted a finger to help.

"Hu San, we were on the main street. It wouldn't have been good to draw the patrolmen. Next time, we’ll find an opportunity to bring more men and teach that kid a lesson."

"Exactly, Hu San. We're on the street; let’s spare the brat for today."

"Many thanks, brothers..."

...

"Time to pack up."

Chen Guangliang pulled his rickshaw along at a light, steady pace, looking full of vitality. From time to time, he admired the rows of international-style buildings lining the street. Passersby even took notice of him, muttering to themselves about what a "country bumpkin" could possibly be so happy about.

How could he not be happy? He’d made seventy cents again today. He had been in this line of work for exactly half a month, averaging a daily turnover of 1.2 yuan, which meant a net profit of seventy cents. At this rate, he would save eight or nine yuan by the end of the month. According to the dreams of Xiangzi from his past life, he could afford his own rickshaw in just over a year, far less than the two years expected. This simply proved one thing: Chen Guangliang was even better at pulling a rickshaw than Xiangzi.

At the Wang residence, Wang Chengyun said to Chen Guangliang with a smile, "Xiao Chen, take two days off starting tomorrow!"

Chen Guangliang was taken aback and immediately countered, "Boss Wang, I’m young and strong; I can keep working for another two days."

Wang Chengyun patted him on the shoulder, saying kindly, "Ah, it’s good to be hardworking, but one must also know how to rest. I was worried that as a newcomer, you wouldn't make enough to eat, but I hear you’ve been quite diligent... Go on, take a break, don't break your body down!"

Seeing that the matter was settled, Chen Guangliang didn't press further. He noticed someone repairing a rickshaw nearby. His eyes darted, and he said, "Alright then, I’ll go lend a hand." Before Wang Chengyun could react, Chen Guangliang walked over to the damaged rickshaw and began to "help."

Wang Chengyun looked thoughtful. In truth, he didn't like subordinates who were too diligent, as they were the ones most likely to save up enough to buy their own rickshaws. Not only would he lose a worker, but he would gain a competitor. Since he collected rent, he preferred having more people pulling for him—as long as they could feed themselves, that was fine, but he didn't want them getting rich on his watch. That was why he mandated at least four days off per month. Of course, he couldn't say this out loud, as many of them were fellow townsmen. Chen Guangliang had only been there for half a month, but he had already caught his eye. "It’s probably just a burst of youthful passion; he’ll settle down after a while."

On the other side, Chen Guangliang didn't know much about repairs, but he was using the excuse of "lending a hand" to steal the craft. With his silver tongue and sharp observation, the results were proving to be quite effective.