Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Vertical Alliance

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Yang Sheng was not so easy to take advantage of.

Last time, Chen Weny耀 had tricked him into paying for a clay-pot rice meal. This time, Yang Sheng had returned the favor by making him treat them to a morning tea.

After leaving the teahouse, Yang Sheng took out his mobile phone and called Chai Jiu first.

“Brother Jiu, it’s Yang Sheng. I have a major business proposition to discuss with you. I’d also like to bring in Huang Juekun and Yin Tiancheng. Are you interested?”

A faint smile touched the corner of Chai Jiu’s mouth on the other end of the line. “A major business deal? How major?”

“Big enough to change the entire balance of power among Hong Kong’s triad societies. If you’re interested, come to Rongsheng Restaurant at eight tomorrow evening.”

“Very well.”

Chai Jiu hung up and leaned back in his office chair.

“A-Kun, clear the restaurant tonight and prepare a proper feast. The opportunity our United League Society has been waiting for is here.”

Yang Sheng had Chai Jiu’s contact details, but not those of Huang Juekun or Yin Tiancheng.

That was no matter. He knew where Zhou Chengyuan and Tan Bokuan lived.

Both men were pure martial artists. Yang Sheng had met them in the ring, and though they had first become acquainted through combat, they had exchanged a few words afterward.

Zhou Chengyuan was Huang Juekun’s godson, and Huang Juekun doted on him beyond measure.

Most of the society’s routine affairs never reached Zhou Chengyuan. A White Paper Fan was assigned to handle them, leaving him with an extraordinarily easy life as a Double-Flowered Red Pole.

Huang Juekun had even built a martial arts academy specifically for Zhou Chengyuan to practice in.

Yang Sheng took a taxi to the entrance of Yixing Martial Arts Academy. As soon as he approached the courtyard, he saw Zhou Chengyuan practicing Hung Kuen.

The Separating Finger and the Iron Wire Fist—firm bridges, solid stances, fierce and overbearing.

The last time Yang Sheng had told him there was no need to force a fusion of Mok Gar Kung Fu and the Tiger-Subduing Fist, Zhou Chengyuan had truly taken his words to heart. He had begun turning his efforts toward Hung Kuen instead.

“Master Zhou’s Hung Kuen forms are truly flawless. They possess the spirit of Wong Fei-hung in his prime.”

Zhou Chengyuan lowered his fists and looked toward Yang Sheng with a bitter smile. “Master Yang, spare me the teasing. I’m a defeated opponent of yours. What spirit or bearing could I possibly claim?

“But what brings you here all of a sudden? Have you come to exchange pointers?”

Yang Sheng shook his head. “No. I only wanted you to pass a message to Old Master Huang of the Heyi Hing Society.”

“What message?”

“Lei Luo. Crippled Ho. A sudden upheaval. Eight o’clock tonight, Rongsheng Restaurant of the United League Society. We’ll discuss it there.”

Although Zhou Chengyuan rarely involved himself in the society’s affairs, he was hardly an ignorant fool.

At the mention of those three key phrases, his expression immediately grew solemn. He nodded.

“Don’t worry. I’ll deliver the message.”

After leaving the academy, Yang Sheng took a taxi directly to Queen Mary Hospital in Hong Kong.

After asking the reception desk for the ward number, he pushed open the door and found Tan Bokuan inside, feeding his son.

There were two beds in the room. On the left lay a withered old man—Tan Bokuan’s father. On the right sat a small, pale boy of seven or eight years old—his son.

Yang Sheng glanced at the food. It was nothing more than plain meat porridge, with only a few scattered shreds of meat in it.

“Yang Sheng?”

Tan Bokuan froze, apparently never expecting Yang Sheng to come here.

Yang Sheng took out a red envelope and pressed it into Tan Bokuan’s hand.

“Buy some decent supplements for the child and the old man. With this illness, they need to strengthen their resistance.”

Tan Bokuan instinctively tried to refuse, but when he felt the thickness of the envelope, he hesitated before putting it away.

“Thank you. I’m in desperate need of money right now.”

Yang Sheng pointed outside. “Let’s talk out there.”

The two men sat on a bench outside the hospital. Tan Bokuan took out a cigarette and offered one to Yang Sheng.

Yang Sheng shook his head. “I don’t smoke. Cigarettes relax the nerves, and excessive smoking affects my reaction speed. You come from the orthodox Wing Chun tradition. You should know that.”

Tan Bokuan gave a bitter laugh. “Of course I know. But back then, how could I have cared about such things? At least one cigarette let me sit quietly for a while.”

“Was the money Yin Tiancheng gave you not enough?”

Tan Bokuan shook his head. “It was enough. Brother Cheng gave me more than enough money; otherwise, I could never have moved my father and son to Queen Mary Hospital.

“But this illness is a bottomless pit. Even if I manage to raise enough for the operation, the expenses afterward will be endless.

“I’ve already agreed to formally join the Number Gang. My master even cursed me for it and nearly expelled me from the school.”

“Wing Chun produced Bruce Lee, whose reputation spread throughout the world, and whose academies now stand all across Hong Kong. As the disciple of one of the Four Great Wing Chun Masters, even if you teach the art, you shouldn’t have to sell your services so cheaply.”

Tan Bokuan helplessly shook his head. “There are too many people learning Wing Chun. I’m not good with words, I don’t look like a master, and I’m even worse at putting on a show. Why would wealthy people choose me to teach them?

“The men who move beautifully and with enough force to look like true masters are the ones who make money.

“Only ordinary families come to study with me, and they do it merely to strengthen their bodies. After paying the academy’s rent and other expenses, what little remains is barely enough to keep food on the table.

“But enough of that. You didn’t come to visit a patient for no reason, did you?”

Yang Sheng nodded. “I want you to pass a message to Yin Tiancheng. Since you’ve formally joined the Number Gang, that will make things even easier.”

After repeating to Tan Bokuan what he had said to Zhou Chengyuan, Yang Sheng patted him on the shoulder.

“If you ever find yourself in urgent need of money, go to the Hongsheng Alliance and look for Ghostly Man Wen. He’ll help you.”

With that, Yang Sheng left without waiting for Tan Bokuan to thank him.

He had not helped Tan Bokuan out of pity. He had merely been struck by the irony of it all.

Tan Bokuan’s fate was a tragedy of the declining age of martial arts.

One studies both the civil and martial arts, only to offer them in service to kings.

That had always been true, in ancient times as well as now.

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It was simply that the age of fists and feet was gradually fading away.

Even a Wing Chun master like Tan Bokuan had been reduced to poverty, forced to fight in underground bouts and resort to illicit dealings just to scrape together enough money for medical treatment.

After reflecting on this, Yang Sheng waited until nightfall before heading straight to Rongsheng Restaurant, the United League Society’s establishment.

Zuo Kun had been waiting at the entrance for some time. When he saw Yang Sheng approach, he came forward to greet him.

“Brother Jiu has already arranged the banquet. Huang Juekun of the Heyi Hing Society and Yin Tiancheng of the Number Gang have both arrived.”

Yang Sheng nodded and followed Zuo Kun upstairs.

When he pushed open the door to the private room, he entered with a smile.

“Thank you, gentlemen, for honoring me with your presence.”

Chai Jiu pointed at Yang Sheng and burst out laughing.

“Boy, no one gives you more face than I do. You arranged this gathering, yet you still expect me to pay for the meal? Where in the world is there such a thing?”

Huang Juekun sipped his tea calmly and smiled.

“This boy is a sharp one. If he hadn’t chosen Rongsheng Restaurant as the meeting place, an old man like me wouldn’t have dared come.

“The older one gets in this world, the more cautious one becomes. What if someone put a bullet in me from the shadows?”

Yin Tiancheng, meanwhile, seemed somewhat impatient. He frowned.

“Yang Sheng, why exactly did you summon us here?”

Yang Sheng glanced at the dishes already laid out on the table and shook his head.

“Brother Cheng seems rather eager. Since none of you are in the mood to eat first, I’ll get straight to the point.

“You’ve probably already guessed why I called you here. I want to move against Lei Luo and Crippled Ho. The great upheaval among Hong Kong’s triad societies is right before us—and it lies in the hands of every one of you.”

Even though they had vaguely guessed Yang Sheng’s intentions beforehand, hearing him say it aloud still left them stunned.

Yin Tiancheng gave a cold laugh.

“Yang Sheng, you’re Lei Luo’s trusted lieutenant. Are you saying you intend to betray him?

“You first followed He Wenchang, and then He Wenchang was taken out by you.

“After that, you followed Lei Luo, and now you want to move against him as well.

“You’re a two-faced turncoat. Why should we believe you? And what gives you the nerve to claim that you’re qualified to take on Lei Luo and Crippled Ho?”

Yang Sheng replied calmly, “When I was with He Wenchang, I helped him establish the Hongsheng Alliance’s reputation and brought a dying society back to life.

“When I was with Lei Luo, I gave him a sharp blade among Hong Kong’s triad societies, forcing Crippled Ho to come to him personally and submit.

“I, Yang Sheng, have never wronged anyone. I seek only to have a clear conscience; I have no need for others to pass judgment on me.

“As for how to deal with Lei Luo and Crippled Ho, naturally, I don’t possess that ability alone. That is your responsibility.

“If I could deal with them by myself, why would I have invited you here?

“A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is laid out before us. The question is whether you have the courage to wager on this game.”

Huang Juekun said, “I’m an old man, and old men are easily frightened. As long as the Heyi Hing Society remains stable in my hands, I’ll be satisfied.

“If the odds aren’t firmly in our favor, I don’t have the courage to make a move.”

Chai Jiu also smiled meaningfully.

“Boy, you know me. Without a certainty of victory, I wouldn’t dare gamble away the small fortune my father spent his life building.”

To develop a society into one of the ten largest in all Hong Kong, a man had to be extraordinary—whether he was the seemingly foolish but secretly formidable Crown Prince Chai, the sly old fox Huang Juekun, or Yin Tiancheng, who appeared hot-tempered but was in truth exceptionally steady.

Yang Sheng was not one of them. Even if he had been as close to them as brothers, they still would not have agreed to anything today unless he produced something capable of genuinely moving them.

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