Chapter 12: The Drunken Beggar

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Qingzhou Prefecture, outside the city gate.
Chen Tiansheng bought a pot of wine from a roadside stall. Beside him, Zhao Daqiang asked in confusion, “Brother Sheng, since when do you drink?”
Chen Tiansheng smiled and looked toward the beggar sleeping on a haystack to the right of the city gate. “Every man loves his drink, but this isn’t for me.”
Following his gaze, Zhao Daqiang scratched his head, thought for a moment, then suddenly understood. “It’s for that drunken beggar, isn’t it?”
Chen Tiansheng nodded and carried the wine pot to the beggar.
The beggar was sound asleep in the withered hay, seemingly deaf to the bustling noise at the city gate.
His hair was tangled and matted with a mix of gray and white, as if straw wrapped in mud. Several flies rested quietly on it, and with close inspection, shadows of fleas could be seen. His tattered clothes had not been washed for a long time, stained with grease that shimmered under the morning sun. His exposed hands and feet bore long, blackened nails. He clutched a broken gourd wine pot, and the stench of alcohol surrounded him.
No matter how one looked at him, this old beggar seemed utterly ordinary.
Like everyone else, Zhao Daqiang stepped forward and called out, “Hey, here’s some wine for you—wake up!”
Chen Tiansheng stopped him, saying, “Don’t disturb him. Let him sleep.”
This pot of wine was a token of thanks for the drunken beggar’s earlier tip about Gu Xue’s whereabouts to Zhao Daqiang. As for the life-saving talisman, Chen Tiansheng had not taken it seriously.
After placing the wine pot down, he was about to leave.
“Ah-ha!”
At that moment, the drunken beggar stretched lazily, yawned widely, scratched his tangled hair with those dark long nails, then picked up the wine pot, lifted it, and took a big gulp. Grinning and exclaiming with satisfaction, “Good wine! That hits the spot!” He then looked at the two men before him and cheerfully asked, “Thanks for the drink. Who’s looking for me?”
Most who came bearing wine were seeking information.
Chen Tiansheng politely cupped his fists in gratitude and said, “Not looking for anyone. I just came to thank you for telling me about my family’s whereabouts.”
The beggar gave a lazy “oh” and then lay back down, sipping his wine while dismissing them, “If you’ve got nothing, then be on your way. Don’t bother me while I’m drinking and sleeping.”
Zhao Daqiang wanted to retort but was stopped by Chen Tiansheng. The two walked into the city.
“Brother Sheng, that drunken beggar is really rude. I bought him wine, and he treats us like this. If I’d known, I’d have given him some water from the moat to mix in.” Zhao Daqiang was somewhat angry.
Chen Tiansheng smiled and patted Zhao Daqiang’s shoulder, speaking earnestly, “Others’ attitudes are their own business. We only need to do our part. If someone does us a kindness, we thank them; if they wrong us, we repay it. For those with no connection, just give way. After all, we won’t cross paths much in the future.”
Zhao Daqiang thought carefully, then nodded in understanding. “Brother Sheng, you’re right. I get it. Your heart is really big!”
His family had taught him many lofty principles, but only Chen Tiansheng’s words truly resonated.
Because Chen Tiansheng was his lifesaver and brother—the wisest and most sensible person he had ever met.

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Chen Tiansheng nodded with satisfaction.
After so many years together, he knew how deeply Zhao Daqiang trusted him.
If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t bother preaching such truths—it would be a waste of breath. Only because he regarded Zhao Daqiang as a brother did he patiently teach him.
Now that Zhao Daqiang had come out with him, he felt an even greater responsibility!
Suddenly, Zhao Daqiang thought of something and asked foolishly, “By the way, Brother Sheng, why did you call that drunken beggar ‘senior’? You’re not part of the Beggars’ Sect, are you?”
Chen Tiansheng explained, “Anyone who lives among the common folk is a person of the streets. Beggars have nothing and must rely on street life; they are the purest of the city’s people.”
Zhao Daqiang nodded, half understanding.
As they entered the city gate, the beggar on the haystack’s dirty hair twitched as his eyes gleamed with life. Watching Chen Tiansheng’s departing figure, he fell into deep thought.
...
Five Lakes and Four Seas Inn.
Chen Tiansheng took Zhao Daqiang to meet the innkeeper Li Dongshan, hoping to find a job for Zhao Daqiang at the inn.
Work at the inn was laborious but allowed contact with many city folk. Especially among the veterans certified by the Mortal Dao Association, frequent interaction could broaden understanding of the street arts.
Li Dongshan sized up Zhao Daqiang a few times, then looked at Chen Tiansheng with a teasing gaze, implying something as he said, “Little Chen, you’re moving up in the world, huh? Now you’re even helping people find work. At this rate, before long, the whole inn will be full of your people. Maybe soon you’ll take my place.”
Chen Tiansheng knew the meaning behind Li Dongshan’s words—it was no compliment but sarcasm. He was reluctant to agree.
“Master Li, you flatter me. I’m just a lowly servant. It’s thanks to your favor that I became a waiter. The inn’s business is good, but the staff is short, and my brother here wants to get into street arts, so I came to ask you.” Chen Tiansheng bowed humbly and then reached out to shake Li Dongshan’s hand.
Li Dongshan felt something in his hand—a silver coin the size of a fingertip. Delighted, he discreetly accepted it and said reluctantly, “To be honest, the inn doesn’t lack workers now. But it’s rare to find someone so grateful and loyal to friends. I’ll take your friend in. Let him chop wood in the backyard for now. Three meals a day, no salary for half a year. Is he willing?”
Chen Tiansheng quickly thanked him.
He nudged the clueless Zhao Daqiang, who then gratefully said, “Thank you, Master Li! I’m willing. As long as I have food, I’m fine!”
Seeing them, Li Dongshan sneered silently but outwardly spoke calmly, “Young men shouldn’t focus on salary. Learn skills now, and you’ll earn more in the future. Little Chen, show your friend to the dormitory.”
Chen Tiansheng and Zhao Daqiang thanked him again and left Li Dongshan’s room.
Once the door closed, Li Dongshan tossed the silver coin he’d gotten from Chen Tiansheng, openly mocking, “Street arts aren’t so easy. Handling you two youngsters is a breeze. Heh, another free laborer. That fat guy’s strong; let him handle the firewood alone. We can fire two kitchen workers and save a lot.”
To Li Dongshan, Chen Tiansheng was just a sycophantic waiter. Such a minor role couldn’t fool someone as skilled in tonal arts as himself. Chen’s earlier performance was genuine.
What Li Dongshan didn’t know was that Chen Tiansheng’s tonal arts were superior to his, both having reached the Grade level.

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Moreover, Chen’s Color Gate art was also at Grade level.
Combining “Ghostly Tales” with “A Thousand Faces,” even a Grade-level street artist like Li Dongshan couldn’t see through him!
At that moment, Chen Tiansheng led Zhao Daqiang to buy daily necessities and settle their lodgings.
Simple-minded Zhao Daqiang was unaware of Li Dongshan’s true nature and spoke gratefully, “Brother Sheng, that Master Li is really a good man. He values you so much. I’ll work hard for him from now on!”
Chen Tiansheng glanced around to ensure no one was near, then looked into Zhao Daqiang’s eyes and said seriously, “Qiangzi, the martial world isn’t like the village. This place is full of all sorts—good and bad mixed together. People’s hearts aren’t what they used to be. Deceivers are everywhere. Until you can tell truth from lies, the only one you can trust is yourself.”
Zhao Daqiang paused, then smiled foolishly, “I can’t just trust myself. I also trust Brother Sheng.”
Chen Tiansheng asked, “What if I’m very good at lying?”
Without hesitation, Zhao Daqiang replied, “My mother said, being good at lying is a skill. But you’ll never lie to me. Even if you do, it’s for my own good.”
Chen Tiansheng’s expression shifted briefly, then both burst into laughter.
After a brief chat, Chen Tiansheng left.
He was a waiter; Zhao Daqiang was a woodcutter. Their jobs, residences, and working hours were different.
Chen Tiansheng approved of Zhao Daqiang’s work; otherwise, he wouldn’t have agreed so readily.
Zhao Daqiang was honest and straightforward, unsuited for the cunning arts of the street. From a young age, he showed remarkable strength, perhaps a talent for physical skills. Chopping wood was good training.
When he joined the Mortal Dao Association, Chen Tiansheng could help Zhao Daqiang learn arts and techniques.
Owning a street building himself, Chen Tiansheng might pull away from Zhao Daqiang in the future, but if Zhao Daqiang could reach Grade level in street arts before ascending to the Immortal Gate, joining the Mortal Dao Association, he could still have an extraordinary life. If Zhao Daqiang wished to enter the Immortal Gate, Chen Tiansheng would do his best to assist.
Collecting his thoughts, Chen Tiansheng changed clothes and busied himself inside the inn.
At noon.
Zhang Ping, steward of the Zhang family, arrived with guards and blocked the inn’s main door.
“Someone, bind that fellow named Chen Tiansheng inside for me!”