Chapter 21
Zhao Zhensheng and Fu Yangshan are somewhat similar in some ways—for example, they both enjoy lively gatherings and use this as a standard for entertaining guests; the bigger the commotion, the deeper the sincerity.
Rongxiang stayed in Xi'an for a few months. Because he was a hot commodity, or rather, a freshly steamed bun, he was always invited to be a distinguished guest at any major banquet—he never received such high treatment in Fengtian.
Fu Yangshan's banquets seemed to deliberately gravitate towards extravagance, likely due to his several extremely luxurious private residences, allowing him to host lavish parties at home. His social circle was also quite limited, consisting mainly of important figures in the military and political spheres, interspersed with a few social celebrities for added flair. In contrast, Zhao Zhensheng's social circle appeared to be much wider. Rong Xiang preferred attending Zhao's banquets because he could see all sorts of people. As the son of a Manchu remnant, his life in Fengtian had always been rather monotonous; aside from cunning old foxes and playboys, he had no opportunity to meet anyone else.
At that moment, he was listening to the Living Buddha of Ganzhu Monastery in the west of the city. The Living Buddha was a plump man whose age was hard to guess, with a solemn face, and spoke fluent Mandarin. He was happy to tell Rongxiang about the history of Ganzhu Monastery, because Rongxiang was a good listener—whether he was really listening or not, as long as he seemed to be listening, the Living Buddha was satisfied. Unfortunately, the Living Buddha's satisfaction didn't last long. An American pastor from the Rotary Club came and interrupted him. The American greeted the Living Buddha in broken Chinese, and then began to complain about how difficult it was to preach among the Tibetans. After hearing his complaints, the Living Buddha regained his satisfied expression and, in a sincere tone, encouraged the pastor to try going deeper into the Tibetan heartland.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, Rongxiang left the Living Buddha and walked towards Yan Guanglin, who was sitting in the corner.
"Hello, Miss Yan."
Hearing his awkward yet polite greeting, Yan Guanglin forced a smile and said, "Hello."
Rong Xiang sat down at the other end of the sofa, about half a meter away, and asked, "Mr. Fu didn't come today?"
Fu Jingyuan pursued Yan Guanglin to the point of obsession, becoming her constant companion. He was always present wherever she was. This led to many misunderstandings, even within Yan's own family who believed they were dating and considered it a possibility, even planning an engagement. Upon hearing this, Yan Guanglin burst into tears. She then called Fu Jingyuan, uttering many cruel and heartless words. Fu Jingyuan, possessing his pride, indeed did not appear this time.
Upon hearing Rongxiang's question, her worries were immediately brought up, and she quickly changed the subject: "The Living Buddha loves to chat. I guess he's telling you about the history of Ganzhu Monastery?"
Rongxiang laughed: "How did you know?"
When Yan Guanglin first saw Rong Xiang smile so innocently, with a pure, childlike expression, she couldn't help but smile herself: "I had only recently returned to China when he saw me and gave me a long lecture—I had no choice but to listen, it was so boring."
After the two finished discussing the topic, there was an awkward silence for a minute. Yan Guanglin picked up the soda in front of her and took a sip, racking her brains to find something interesting to talk about. Just as she was starting to come up with something, she heard Rong Xiang ask softly, "Miss Yan, I'm a man of few words. You must find it very boring to talk to me."
Although this statement was objective, it was completely unexpected for Yan Guanglin. She immediately turned to look at Rong Xiang—their eyes met, and it was unclear whether they were surprised or exchanging glances.
"No way!" Yan Guanglin turned her head, blushing, and said to the soda cup, "Nothing like that. I don't like talkative people, they're too noisy."
Rong Xiang felt a surge of exhilaration as he thought of Fu Jingyuan's endless chatter: "Then..." he deliberately lowered his voice, "What about me?"
Yan Guanglin stared at the soda glass, momentarily thinking she was hallucinating: "What?"
Rongxiang shifted his position, moving a little closer to her: "Do you like me?"
He asked this question simply to try his luck. Although he had no chance of winning, he figured he wouldn't be pulled up by Yan Guanglin and thrown over her shoulder again. Subconsciously, he still wanted to test his skills against Fu Jingyuan. His life no longer intersected with Fu Jingyuan's; if there was any connection left, it was through this Miss Yan Guanglin.
He thought that as long as Yan Guanglin ran away with a blush on her face, then he wouldn't have lost to Fu Jingyuan. If Yan Guanglin stammered and refused to give a direct answer, then he would have won. Because his words had come so abruptly, almost inexplicably. An ordinary young lady would be angry upon hearing them.
He watched Yan Guanglin's reaction intently. She stared at the glass for a moment, motionless, then suddenly turned around, her face and eyes flushed. This startled him; he couldn't understand why Yan Guanglin had suddenly turned so red.
“You like me, then--------” Yan Guanglin stared at Rong Xiang with eyes like knives: “What promises can you give me?”
Rongxiang lowered his eyes, tilted his head at her with a half-smile, and said, "I'll take you away."
"escape?"
"Yes, we sneaked away from here."
"Isn't that eloping?"
Rong Xiang was a little flustered; he hadn't expected Yan Guanglin to react like this: "The same, I guess."
"But I don't want to run away or elope with you. If you want to marry me, you can come to my house openly and honestly to propose." After saying this, Yan Guanglin suddenly felt that she might have gone a bit too far—how did she bring up marriage? This wasn't something a girl should say, was it?
Rongxiang shared the same feeling as her.
He had no intention of marrying such a young lady. He was used to his life and couldn't imagine what it would be like to have a mistress in the house, and besides, now was not the time to get married.
So upon hearing this, he could only smile and nod, "I understand."
After sitting for a while, he made an excuse to get up and fled.
Rongxiang left in a hurry before the banquet ended.
He genuinely had something to do, so Zhao Zhensheng didn't try to stop him. In the south of the city, his soldiers were locked in a fierce battle with the local police. It was obvious that for even the most timid police to pick up weapons, the soldiers must have caused such a public outcry.
The cause was simple: a soldier bought a few packs of cigarettes at a grocery store in front of the police station. That was fine in itself, but the problem was that the soldier paid the shopkeeper with Manchurian currency.
This currency was practically worthless in Xi'an. The shop owner, fearing trouble, thought he could just give the cigarettes away for free. However, the soldier insisted on payment and demanded change. The bills were of enormous denomination; even selling half his shop wouldn't provide enough change, leading to an argument. This quickly alerted the police, but before the patrol officers could say anything, the soldiers clashed with the onlookers, resulting in immediate bloodshed. A police officer attempted to intervene, but before he could finish speaking, he was shot dead by Manchurian soldiers who arrived as backup.
Finally, chaos ensued.
Rong Xiang frequented Xi'an's so-called high society, surrounded by flattery and praise. Therefore, his perception of his standing in Xi'an was far from reality—which was understandable, really. Only Fu Jingyuan dared to constantly criticize him, and Rong Xiang rarely took Fu Jingyuan's words to heart. He knew his subordinates were misbehaving, but due to lack of pay, he didn't interfere much. However, he never imagined it would escalate to the point of a physical altercation with the citizens and police.
Halfway there, he heard that military police had arrived ahead to quell the fire. But after driving less than fifty meters, he saw black smoke rising into the sky, indicating a fire. Rong Xiang knew he was in trouble. He didn't know how many of his men and weapons were there, but his car wasn't bulletproof, making it unsuitable for such a chaotic and dangerous place. Even without the threat of stray bullets, the angry crowd would likely drag him out and tear him to pieces.
As he pondered, he began to tremble slightly. Xiao Meng noticed his unusual behavior in the rearview mirror and, without waiting for instructions, took it upon herself to turn the car around and speed home along the main road. Rong Xiang was about to stop him, but a sudden spasm made him recoil. Pain and itching quickly seeped from his bones to every part of his body. He sniffed, trying his best to maintain a normal demeanor, but he could no longer sit up straight.
The journey from the Zhao mansion to the Rong family home was quite long. Xiao Meng floored the accelerator and honked the horn incessantly, the car speeding through the streets like a whirlwind, startling pedestrians who scattered and cursed. Finally, when they reached a less crowded area, he slammed on the brakes, jumped out, opened the trunk, took out a leather case containing syringes and other medicine, and then quickly got into the car and sat down next to Rong Xiang.
Rongxiang sat leaning against the car door, his head drooping to his knees. Xiao Meng held a needle in one hand and tried to pull Rongxiang's left hand with the other, but it wouldn't budge. This time, Xiao Meng used more force and discovered that Rongxiang was tightly biting his left sleeve. Perhaps due to excessive muscle tension, no matter how much Xiao Meng pulled, he couldn't let go, and saliva dripped down, soaking a large patch of the sleeve. Helpless, Xiao Meng carefully put the needle away first, then pulled Rongxiang's right hand over, quickly rolled up the sleeve, and exposed his arm.
He hadn't expected Rongxiang's muscles to be so stiff—he couldn't even insert a needle. He patted and kneaded him for a while, but there was no relief. Rongxiang seemed to be in extreme pain; he first bit his sleeve and whimpered in agony, then, when Xiao Meng wasn't looking, he suddenly slammed his head against the car door. Xiao Meng quickly leaned forward, grabbed his head, and gently pleaded with him, pulling at his left hand, "Third Master, let go, let go and we can get the injection."
Rong Xiang was already in a dazed state and couldn't understand Xiao Meng's words. Seeing him about to writhe and struggle like a fish in a frying pan, Xiao Meng had no choice but to protect the back of his head with one hand and reach for the dagger from the driver's seat with the other. He pulled Rong Xiang's left hand away as much as possible, then slashed open the sleeve of his suit jacket, finally pulling Rong Xiang's left arm out.
Fortunately, the muscles in her left arm were still flexible enough to receive a normal morphine injection. After the injection, Xiao Meng packed up her suitcase and put it back. Then she returned to the driver's seat and continued driving home.
Rong Xiang lay sprawled on the back seat, his posture contorted, and it took him a while to regain his senses. He spat out the half of his sleeve with a "pui" sound, then took out a handkerchief to wipe the drool from his chin and neck.
"I'm just like my second brother now," he thought sadly. "Ugly and disgusting. But thankfully, no outsiders have seen me."
The shootout between Manchurian soldiers and local police that day caused a huge uproar in Xi'an. The citizens already deeply resented these foreign thugs, and this time, the soldiers killed and injured many innocent civilians in the shootout, which was so arrogant and hateful that it made the people's tolerance unbearable.
Several large demonstrations were held in the city over the next two days, expressing resentment and protest against the Manchu soldiers. This time, Chen Jingfu couldn't justify his actions and had to seek instructions from Zhao Zhensheng again. Zhao Zhensheng hesitated and ultimately offered no solution. In his heart, he couldn't help but resent Rong Xiang—if he hadn't been so lenient with his subordinates, how could things have escalated to this point?
Before Rongxiang could come up with a solution, he suddenly took his leave.
This was completely unexpected for Zhao Zhensheng—if he left, who would help him fight Fu Yangshan? But before he could even say a word to persuade him to stay, Rong Xiang had already led his men and rushed off to Tongguan ahead of him.
This action itself clearly demonstrated Rong Xiang's attitude. Zhao Zhensheng was a little unhappy, thinking, "If you don't agree, fine, but why run away so quickly? Are you afraid I'll cling to you?"
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