Chapter 3
Yu Congyi stood silently in the next guest room, the light off, the room dark. When Lu Jin noticed something amiss and came out at the sound, Yu Congyi, as if possessed, went around to the next room and hid. He wasn't a weak or cowardly person; quite the opposite.
Yu Congyi stood facing the door in the darkness, his hand on the pistol at his waist, calculating the probability of killing the two people next door and escaping unscathed. The room was empty; he could almost hear the breathing of the people next door as they talked. He pondered calmly and silently for a long time, and finally gently pushed the door open a crack.
"Master Lin, how have you been lately?" Just then, footsteps approached from afar, and Yu Congyi had no choice but to hide in the darkness again, pressing his back against the door and listening carefully to the sounds outside.
Lin Mengze's voice came from a distance, just a few steps away. Suddenly, there was a soft "click" sound, as someone touched the doorknob in front of Yu Congyi.
The sounds of laughter and conversation drifted faintly from next door. Lu Jin leaned against the wall, his craving for a cigarette kicking in; he reached into his pocket for a lighter. His cufflink scraped against the door, a mere inch away, producing a slightly harsh sound. Yu Congyi took two steps back, but in the darkness, he suddenly bumped into the leg of a low table in the corner with a barely audible thud.
Lu Jin leaned back, his elbows comfortably resting on the metal handle behind him. Unexpectedly, the door wasn't fully closed. He had just lit his cigarette when he suddenly stumbled backward. The door to the next room was ajar, and Lu Jin nearly fell as a result. Holding onto the wall, he looked towards the next room in confusion, but it was pitch black inside, with only the faint light from the outside of the mansion reflected in the window, casting dappled shadows of the trees.
The lonely figure on the semi-circular windowsill stood there, the window half-open.
Lu Jin clicked his tongue and slammed the door shut behind him.
Yu Congyi clung to the outer wall of the second floor of the building like a gecko, his feet resting on the edge of the wall, which was no more than two inches wide.
The villa had an extremely high ceiling; though only two or three stories high, it appeared to be over ten meters tall looking down. The windows were Western-style semi-circular windows without railings. Left with no other option, Yu Congyi fumbled for the dagger at his waist. Slowly lowering himself to steady himself, he gripped the window frame tightly with one hand and plunged the dagger into the bottom of the frame with the other. With a screeching sound of stone scraping against metal, the dagger became deeply embedded in the window frame.
Yu Congyi swiftly stripped off his shirt, tied them together into a rope, tightly wrapped one end around the dagger handle, then wrapped his right wrist around that end, without looking down, braced his hands and feet against the smooth marble wall, and slid down as if fleeing.
Given the current situation, it would be wishful thinking for him to launch a rash attack. Yu Congyi memorized the other party's appearance. This place was no longer safe to stay. He would definitely avenge this grudge in the future!
Two or three meters from the ground, the rope was taut and he couldn't go any further. Yu Congyi stood firmly against the wall protrusion, steadied himself, grabbed the rope with his right hand, and pulled hard. The dagger, stuck in the third-floor window frame, fell with a clatter along with his clothes. By now, the sky was already pitch black. Yu Congyi looked down and saw only darkness; he couldn't tell if it was bushes or a forest. He grabbed something and jumped haphazardly.
Half an hour later, as he successfully left the white palace, a drunken guest, unable to conceal his intoxication, stumbled and staggered towards the mansion's back garden to vomit, accidentally stepping on a soft, yielding surface. The poor man looked down and, through his drunken haze, saw a hideous, disoriented dead face amidst layers of beautiful, fallen leaves. In an instant, he sobered up completely.
…
Tang Zefei exchanged a few pleasantries with Lin Mengze. After the old man left, he got up, put on his coat, and looked back but couldn't see Lu Jin. Slightly puzzled, he walked out of the guest room.
He walked downstairs. It was past 9 AM, and the people inside and outside the building gradually dispersed. The golden-red velvet carpet of the vast mansion was soaked through by the crystal chandeliers, the intense colors flowing like blood, silently foreshadowing the carnage outside. As Tang Zefei, wearing a black overcoat, stood under the arched doorway, a gust of cold autumn wind brushed past his temples, ruffling his meticulously styled hair.
"Young Master!" Lu Jin rushed over, pulling at his trench coat. "Second Young Master, he, he..."
Tang Zefei withdrew her gaze from the distance and raised her chestnut-colored eyes.
"Young Master Tang is dead!"
"Did Dad know? What did he say?" Tang Zefei took the gloves from him as she went down the stairs. As he walked, four guards automatically followed behind him, one on each side. The little angels in the glass mosaics outside the white "palace" blended with scenes from the Old Testament, watching them with a helpless yet gentle gaze.
…
"Zefirois!" Mister Tang, who liked to call Tang Zefei by his Italian name in his rage, stood behind a huge desk, glaring at his only unharmed son.
“I’ll tell you to keep an eye on Li Shu…” Mister Tang had the same European face as Tang Zefei, but spoke exceptionally fluent Chinese, which was related to the fact that he had left his hometown and traveled across the ocean to China to make money when he was young.
Today, Mister Tang has become a well-known wealthy businessman in Tianjin, but when he gets angry, he is still as impulsive as a young boy.
"Now look what's happened, Lishu, sigh! sigh!" Old Master Tang sighed loudly several times, then slowly sat down, his fingers trembling as he leaned on the table.
Compared to him, Tang Zefei seemed much more composed. He stood in the study, still carrying the chill from outside.
“Dad,” he said indifferently, “I’m sorry that my brother is dead.”
Although he was just an adopted son, Mister Tang was still heartbroken. Gripping the corner of the desk, his hands trembled and veins bulged. Head bowed, face flushed, he took a few deep breaths and fiercely shouted, "We must find the murderer who killed Tateki!!"
…
It was nearly midnight when Yu Congyi returned to Jiang Fengming's place. The residence of this chairman, Jiang Fengming, was a row of villas located in an inconspicuous alley behind Victoria Road in the British Concession.
Jiang Fengming stood on the porch, wearing an overcoat. It was a dark and windy night, and he stood with his hands in his pockets, gazing up at the night sky, seemingly lost in thought.
Two short car horns sounded outside the courtyard, and the gate creaked open, allowing a dark figure to strode in. Jiang Fengming looked down and vaguely recognized Yu Congyi's figure, immediately a relieved smile spreading across his face.
Yu Congyi approached and looked up at Jiang Fengming on the steps. "Fengming, why are you standing here?" He walked up the steps, pulled the swaying trench coat on the other man's shoulders, and helped him into the house.
Jiang Fengming turned his head and caught a whiff of coldness emanating from him. He couldn't help but subconsciously look up at his face. Yu Congyi was half a step behind him, looking exhausted, with strands of hair falling across his brow. "Brother," Jiang Fengming suddenly stopped and tugged at his collar, "Why are your clothes so wrinkled? What happened?"
…
Yu Congyi's life was indeed full of hardships. He was thirty-one years old at the time, and the first ten years of his life were filled with unspeakable suffering. His mother, a prostitute, gave birth to him in a dilapidated woodshed in a brothel alley, then abandoned him and disappeared without a trace. The baby cried from birth, and after crying for a day and a night in the woodshed, he had no strength left to cry and was on the verge of death. An old man from a neighboring shop couldn't bear to see him like this, so he took him home and gave him some milk mixed with rice porridge. When he was two years old, the old man was hit and killed by the son of a high-ranking official while riding a rickshaw and never returned. The elderly men and women in the next alley saw that he was weak and pitiful and were willing to share a little bit of their homemade rice porridge with him every day. He grew up on the charity of many families until he was five years old. At the age of six, he realized that he could only make a living by his own strength because of his background. There was no other way to survive in this chaotic world, so he mustered up his courage and left the brothel alley. Having grown up surrounded by a polluted environment and experiencing many hardships, Yu Congyi was exceptionally precocious. At only six or seven years old, his mind was already comparable to that of a teenager.
That day, he was carrying stacks of letters, delivering mail for a newspaper for a pittance. He was panting as he ran into an alley when he suddenly saw a man lying by a dirty wall, his head and face smashed, covered in blood, with numerous knife wounds on his back. It was unclear whether he was dead or alive. Having grown up in such an environment, Yu Congyi was used to such sights. He didn't even glance at the man before hurriedly grabbing the letters and preparing to leave. Unexpectedly, the man still had a few breaths left. Sensing someone passing by, he weakly reached out and grasped young Yu Congyi's thin ankle, clearly saying, "Help me..."
Yu Congyi lowered his head, observing the poor man's face with a mixture of pity and trepidation. For some unknown reason, he raised his hand and tremblingly approached the man's lips, only to find his hand covered in blood and grime. Yu Congyi immediately threw the small cloth bag behind him and, with immense strength, hoisted the man onto his shoulder.
At the time, he was no more than seven years old. No one knows how he dragged an adult man for so long to a clinic on a nearby street. Anyway, when the man was lucky enough to survive at the clinic and fully woke up, he saw Yu Congyi sitting on a bamboo stool with his knees drawn up and dozing off. He immediately woke up little Yu Congyi.
"Little kid, I remember you saved me! Whose child are you?" The man sat sideways on the bed, smiling at him. His face was wrapped in bandages, and the red and purple medicine on his body made his bare upper body look somewhat comical.
"I'm all alone." Yu Congyi woke up from the bamboo chair. The afternoon sun had made him very sleepy, and when he opened his eyes now, he looked a little dazed.
The man didn't understand and pressed on, "A little kid like you, you're really something!"
Seeing that he was awake, Yu Congyi turned away to look for his small cloth bag. He pulled it over and saw that the letter he had prepared to deliver that morning was still in his pocket. He became uneasy, jumped off the bamboo chair, and was about to leave when the man called out to him, "Hey, little one, where are you going?"
"Deliver the message." Yu Congyi was somewhat wary, but obediently stood on the ground. "Go exchange the money."
The man's gaze shifted downwards, noticing his ragged clothes and bare feet.
He understood something in an instant, and jumped off the wooden bed in three quick steps, enduring the pain in his body and legs as he grabbed Xiao Yu Congyi.
"Little one, you saved me, don't you want to know who I am?"
Yu Congyi thought about it seriously and realized he was indeed a little curious, so he nodded. The man pulled him to the bedside and made him sit down. Now that he knew a little about Yu Congyi's background, he felt compassion for the man because of his life-saving grace.
The two people, one older and one younger, chatted for a long time in that little house.
It turned out that this man's name was Jiang Yiqun. Before the age of twenty-five, he was an instructor at the Army Officer Academy. Due to a drunken disturbance that violated discipline (reportedly even accidentally injuring and killing a colleague), he was dismissed from the military and reduced to a commoner. Jiang Yiqun himself lacked any sense of loyalty to the country; he was, as the saying goes, someone who walked the line between right and wrong. After being expelled from the military academy, he didn't wallow in self-pity or show any signs of despair. Over time, he even sought a new way to make a living—not through legitimate means, but through the trade of human lives. He became a professional assassin, a lackey for others. Born a military officer, Jiang Yiqun possessed exceptional skills and was willing to be used for money. The more blood he spilled on his hands, the more he resembled Yama, though not Yama himself. Ten years later, Jiang Yiqun lived up to expectations and killed the old chief, but he had no intention of taking his place. He burned down the luxurious courtyard house overnight, taking a portion of the wealth with him. He started his own gang, but he did not form excessive cliques. He only had a few of his most trusted brothers working with him. Moreover, he did not retire from the gang. On the contrary, he gripped the sword of death tighter and tighter, and he personally handled everything he wanted to do.
That day, Jiang Yiqun and his childhood friend launched a night raid on the wealthy Qian family mansion in the southern suburbs. Unfortunately, they were discovered by the fierce guards, who immediately drew their pistols and vowed to protect the Qian family mansion to the death. In the chaos, Jiang Yiqun was hit by two bullets, neither of which were fatal, and was then hacked across the head and face with a large cleaver by one of the guards. One of his childhood friends, trying to protect him as they escaped, was shot in the chest and died instantly. Without hesitation, Jiang Yiqun, seeing that his side had no chance of winning, fled in a desperate chase with the Qian family guards. After nearly two hours of running, he finally escaped their sight but collapsed in an unknown alley, his life hanging in the balance due to his severe wounds.
Just as dawn was breaking, Yu Congyi, who was on his way to deliver a message, passed by the alleyway and saved Jiang Yiqun's worthless life.
Sitting on the windowsill, the two, one older and one younger, seemed to be close friends despite their age difference, and they got along very well. As they chatted for a while, Jiang Yiqun learned about the child's tragic past and began to think about it.
What a wonderful child...
"What's your name?" he asked the child.
"I once heard from the older folks in the neighborhood that my mother's surname was Yu, the Yu of Yu Ji," the child replied after thinking for a moment.
"Will you come with me?" Jiang Yiqun suddenly said.
Yu Congyi couldn't fully grasp the hidden meaning in his words, and instead became somewhat wary. "What do you mean?"
"I'm unfortunate enough to have no children," Jiang Yiqun frankly admitted. "You seem quite pleased with me, so why not become my godson?"
Upon hearing this, Yu Congyi was incredulous, his eyes widening in disbelief. His expressions were rather limited; when expressionless, he always seemed lost in thought or frowning. Seeing such a small child seemingly troubled, onlookers found him endearing and amusing. Now, this rare expression of his appeared, and Jiang Yiqun, noticing it, felt a surge of tenderness.
“Yu…you’ll be called Yu Congyi! Cong as in ‘joining the army,’ and Yi as in ‘righteousness’!” the man said loudly without hesitation. “I was a graduate of a military academy myself. This name sounds good!”
This time, Yu Congyi not only opened his eyes wide, but also stared blankly at the man in front of him with his mouth agape.
He was surprised. Was he really going to have a family?
"What's wrong, little one? Isn't this name especially nice?" Jiang Yiqun laughed twice, then suddenly called out seriously, "Yu Congyi!"
"Ah..." Yu Congyi answered timidly. Suddenly, he felt a jolt run through his body, as if an electric shock had struck him. He had his own name now! He had his own home! From now on, when people called him, it wouldn't be "Hey, that kid," and he would no longer have to live a life of hardship, sleeping in the outhouse or the woodshed!
"Hey! Hey!" Yu Congyi responded involuntarily, incredulously.
"Haha! Great!" Jiang Yiqun clapped and cheered. Suddenly, silence fell. He lowered his head and leaned closer to Xiao Yu Congyi, tentatively probing like a weasel, "Want me to call you 'godfather'?"
"Godfather..."
"Good, good! My good son!" Jiang Yiqun looked at his little face and laughed heartily. Suddenly, he reached out and pulled him close, saying in a low voice, "My child, you saved my life today. Your godfather must thank you properly."
Yu Congyi looked up, replying happily, "What's the big deal, Godfather!" He was extremely happy, though not overtly so; only his little face flushed slightly and his hands trembled a little. Jiang Yiqun sat there and smiled. A moment later, little Yu Congyi turned and picked up a few letters from his backpack. He looked a little troubled, "These letters are already late; the employer will be unhappy..."
Jiang Yiqun already knew that he made a living by delivering messages, so he casually threw down the bundle, stood up with one leg dangling, put his arm around Xiao Yu Congyi's shoulder, and limped to the door.
"Why bother sending letters? Your godfather will take you to live a good life."
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