SNT Chapter 1: Troubled Times

The endless reed marshes of Mute Bay rustled in the wind.

Deep within the marshes, on a shallow sandbank far from the main waterway, several clusters of particularly tall and dense reeds had been bent down and woven together. A dilapidated old boat was stranded here, and under its canopy, several young but care-worn faces bore the deep imprint of life's heavy burdens.

"The Dragon King's incense offerings... have gone up by thirty percent again!" Liang Badou sighed deeply, his voice carrying a note of helplessness, "The Golden River Gang is clearly trying to suck the marrow from our bones."

"My father coughed all night," Li Hu's voice was low and hoarse, "We still haven't found money for medicine, and most of the fish and shrimp we caught this morning went to fill the Dragon King's incense hole... How are we supposed to live?"

As he spoke, his eyes reddened.

Hearing this, the others' faces showed traces of desolation.

The government's harsh taxes and levies had already bent their backs, and the local Golden River Gang still forced them to pay "Dragon King's incense offerings."

Though called Dragon King's incense, it was actually water lantern fees.

Every month at the beginning, gang members would carry tin lanterns from house to house along the river demanding payment. The lanterns were painted with blood-red characters for "canal," and their wicks were soaked in fish oil, producing a foul stench when lit.

Fishing families who couldn't pay would find bowl-sized holes bored through their boat bottoms at night, and the next day the river surface would have one more flickering "water lantern", these were floating lanterns made from broken boat planks, with corpses often sunk beneath them.

Those who paid received a green fish scale to nail above their door frame, supposedly for "Dragon King's protection."

But everyone knew these scales were stained not with divine grace, but with human blood.

"All the family money has gone to Dragon King's incense. This can't go on..." Chen Qing in the corner frowned deeply.

He had transmigrated here half a month ago, born into a poor fishing family in this life.

His so-called home was merely two decrepit fishing boats tied together end to end with hemp rope and tattered cloth strips, their gaps stuffed with wet mud and reed fluff.

Father and son made their living by fishing, but a year ago his father Chen Wu had been conscripted to build canals and remained missing without word.

In these chaotic times when human life was cheap as grass, losing the family's breadwinner was tantamount to disaster.

His mother, Lady Han, wove fishing nets at home for a meager income.

Their family, like over two hundred thousand other ant-like poor people in Gaolin County, were pressed firmly into the very bottom of the muddy pit.

These times were harder than climbing to heaven!

Government taxes scraped away skin and picked bones layer by layer, while local gangs used knives to scrape the marrow from those same bones.

Academy tuition? That was the exclusive preserve of gentry children.

If poor families' children wanted to learn a few characters, they would chop wood by day and steal light to study by night, surviving on thin gruel, grinding away for twenty years for just a thread of hope.

Want to learn a trade for survival? You needed three generations of "clean" family background as guarantee.

If poor children tried to get ahead forcefully, having their legs broken in the dark of night was common.

Meanwhile, in the western kilns, mastering the "fire-eye secret method" could earn craftsman status and a few full meals, but the price was thirty years of apprenticeship like cattle and horses.

The poor struggled at the bottom, muddled and dazed, seeing not a glimmer of light.

But Chen Qing was different.

In his mind hung a fate pattern: [Fate Pattern: Heaven Rewards Diligence, Success Guaranteed]

Heaven favored the diligent, effort would surely be rewarded.

This meant that for him, any skill had no qualification barriers, no bottleneck obstacles.

He had secretly explored for some time and discovered that only martial arts could fully unleash this fate pattern.

Learning martial arts would allow him to participate in military examinations, gain official rank, rise above others, and completely turn his life around.

Most importantly, he wouldn't be bullied anymore.

However, learning martial arts wasn't easy.

"Li Hu, Xiao Chun, Ah Qing, Er Ya," Liang Badou spoke again, his voice grave, "Just sighing is useless. We can't survive by fishing anymore, unless we accept our fate like Uncle Wang, mortgaging our boats to work for them like cattle and horses. What are your plans..."

The others' faces were filled with confusion.

They were all children of fishermen from Mute Bay, childhood playmates.

Liang Badou had the best family circumstances, his father was a barefoot traveling doctor, his mother worked odd jobs at a wine house, and supposedly they had a relative in the inner city.

Er Ya's family made pickled fish for a living, and she always carried a heavy salty fishy smell.

Xiao Chun's father was a boat builder who helped fishermen repair tung oil and clay caulking, barely making ends meet.

Li Hu had lost his mother early, his sister had married away, and he lived by fishing with his old father. Now that Old Li was bedridden with illness, only he could support the household.

"My father wants to send me to Treasure Hall as an errand boy," Xiao Chun said quietly, head bowed, "Sign a ten-year indenture contract, can get three years' wages in advance."

Treasure Hall was a pawn shop. Errand boys were responsible for cleaning, moving goods, running errands, and learning to evaluate items. They couldn't touch the account books for three years.

Liang Badou looked at Xiao Chun in surprise, "I heard that to become an errand boy at Treasure Hall, you need to slip Second Appraiser ten taels of silver..."

The faint hope that had just kindled in Li Hu and Er Ya's eyes was suddenly extinguished.

Ten taels of silver was enough for a Mute Bay family's grain for a year. Who could easily produce such an amount?

Xiao Chun quickly explained, "Where would our family have such savings? My father scraped together that silver by selling everything, borrowing from here and there."

He deliberately emphasized "borrowing money." In this man-eating world, not flaunting wealth was a survival principle, even among childhood friends.

Er Ya sighed, "If you can endure it, it's still a way to live."

Chen Qing nodded silently.

Appraisers were evaluation masters responsible for pricing and examining goods. Besides their regular pay, they surely had plenty of side income.

Liang Badou turned to Li Hu, "Ah Hu, what about you?"

Li Hu took a deep breath, his gaze drifting toward the distant muddy river surface, "Work on boats... maybe go south. I hear the wages are higher there."

Er Ya was startled and asked again, "Go where?"

"South," Li Hu's gaze pierced through Mute Bay, "My father... my sister will look after him."

Everyone fell silent again. With Old Li injured, the burden of life fell entirely on Li Hu's shoulders.

The river wind moaned as it struck the boat canopy.

Er Ya then said quietly, "Mother asked Granny Wang to speak for me, wanting to send me to Master Guo's house as a rough servant girl... saying I'm pretty and nimble-handed, the monthly wage could be two hundred wen more."

Her voice grew even softer, "Actually, in wealthy households, you can see the world too."

Liang Badou nodded, finally looking at Chen Qing, "Ah Qing, what about you?"

Chen Qing was brief and to the point, "I plan to learn martial arts."

Learn martial arts!?

Everyone was stunned, as if they'd heard wrong.

Liang Badou waved his hand dismissively, laughing, "Ah Qing, you're talking nonsense again."

Chen Qing said slowly, "I'm serious."

"An ordinary martial arts school charges ten taels of silver just for the apprenticeship fee, and they still have to check your bone structure and aptitude," Liang Badou frowned deeply, shaking his head repeatedly, "That's not counting monthly room and board of at least two taels, medicinal baths one tael, weapons... How easy do you think learning martial arts is?"

"Poor in literature, rich in martial arts" was no empty saying.

Entering a martial arts school was just the threshold, actually learning martial arts was a bottomless pit, requiring constant meat supplementation.

Mute Bay had also had people with such foolish dreams, ultimately wasting their time and falling into huge debts. The luckier ones merely became watchmen for wealthy households.

Er Ya and Xiao Chun also shook their heads secretly, clearly thinking Chen Qing's idea impractical.

Li Hu opened his mouth but swallowed his words back.

Er Ya looked at Liang Badou, "Brother Badou, what about you?"

Speaking of himself, Liang Badou unconsciously straightened his back a bit, "My third uncle works as a clerk in the Inner River Bureau. My father said to have me study and practice calligraphy with him first, and when third uncle retires in a few years, he'll find a way to recommend me..."

"Brother Badou, you're going to become an official!?" Er Ya's eyes lit up, her voice rising, "Doesn't that mean... you'll be successful!?"

The others immediately showed undisguised envy.

For the poor people of Mute Bay, even a runner's position was already a remarkable "official," let alone a clerk with real power. Being able to study under one and eventually replace him was a great fortune they wouldn't dare dream of.

"This isn't certain yet. I'll learn from third uncle first and see," Liang Badou, still young at heart, couldn't suppress the smile at the corners of his mouth, "We all came from Mute Bay, we should gather often in the future and look out for each other."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

If Liang Badou truly could make his fortune, maintaining good relations now would be a valuable connection for the future.

After more idle chat, Er Ya and Xiao Chun's attitudes toward Liang Badou became noticeably warmer.

After a while, everyone took small boats to leave the reed marsh and return to Mute Bay.

Chen Qing hurried toward his family's connected boats.

In these times with gangs everywhere and desperate outlaws robbing on the roads, unknown dangers lurked everywhere.

Just as Chen Qing was almost home, a harsh shout suddenly came from ahead:

"You dog! That upstream area is Golden River Gang territory, how dare you go there!?"

"I'll show you what real water lantern lighting means!"

Near his family's broken boat, he saw that neighbor Aunt Gao's door plank had been split open with a large gash.

Tattered cloth curtains hung askew, several clay pots lay shattered on the ground, and the stench of rotting dead fish and shrimp permeated the air.

Aunt Gao sat collapsed in the mud, holding her head and sobbing. Uncle Gao was pressed firmly to the ground by two Golden River Gang thugs in short jackets with fierce expressions. His forehead was bruised and swollen, blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were filled with humiliation and despair.

The culprit behind all this was Qian Biao of the Golden River Gang.

He was stockily built, wearing a silk jacket left open to expose a hideous knife scar across his chest.

Qian Biao was mainly responsible for collecting "Dragon King's incense" from fishing households.

The Golden River Gang didn't just collect "Dragon King's incense", they also had funeral money, called "ghost boat guidance silver," charging two hundred wen per corpse, or else dumping bodies in the river.

There was also so-called "water ghost dowry," forcing bride's families to pay money, or "water ghosts" would come to steal the bride.

As for these "water ghosts," everyone knew perfectly well who they were.

Marriages, funerals, weddings, every occasion squeezed oil from the bones of poor fishermen.

Who dared refuse? Fishing nets would be cut in the night, dead rats would mysteriously appear in boat holds, or more directly, an "accidental" collision would send a fishing boat to the river bottom.

The fishermen of Mute Bay both hated and feared them, their faces changing at the mere mention.

"Oh, Ah Qing!" Qian Biao saw Chen Qing and strode over, "Look, look what a mess Old Gao has made of things."

He sighed as if he were the most pained person, "That upstream fishing ground is Golden River Gang territory, Old Gao broke the taboo... Sigh, there's really no choice, gang rules can't be broken! My heart aches too!"

Chen Qing's face also showed a pained expression, "Master Qian speaks truly."

"Sigh, these times are really hard to endure. Look how fish prices have dropped. Oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, which hasn't gone up?" Qian Biao changed his tone, his smile becoming even more sincere, "Ah Qing, has your family been managing recently? Seeing you and your mother in such difficulty, my heart... really feels bad."

"If it's not enough, I could lend you some emergency money, one hundred wen copper coins generating two wen interest daily, settled day by day, interest clear as crystal, absolutely won't cheat you. Just use your family's broken boat as collateral!"

Chen Qing's face maintained its fawning smile, but his heart turned cold. Behind him, Aunt Gao's sobbing seemed even clearer.

Behind Qian Biao's "righteousness" lay cold calculation. That one hundred wen copper generating two wen daily interest sounded trivial, but with compound interest it became frighteningly high annual rates, truly sucking marrow and crushing bones.

The collateral would certainly be the Chen family's boat, a fisherman's lifeline.

Qian Biao had decided that this orphan and widow were soft targets, already viewing the Chen family as fish meat on his chopping block.

Chen Qing's bitter smile deepened as he repeatedly bowed, "Thank you for Master Biao's concern! You're too righteous! But right now... we can still barely manage. If we really can't, I'll come to you."

Seeing Chen Qing wouldn't take the bait, Qian Biao's smile instantly stiffened and cooled, his features only perfunctorily twitching, "Fine, when you need it, come find me anytime."

His gaze swept over Chen Qing with a trace of barely perceptible coldness, "Go back quickly, don't keep your mother waiting."

Those three words "waiting anxiously" were deliberately slowed, sounding like concern but more like an icy demand.

"Yes, thank you Master Qian, thank you Master Qian!" Chen Qing's face squeezed out gratitude as he hurried toward his family's two connected decrepit fishing boats.

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