Chapter 1: The Lamb Skewer Vendor

In the western district of Zhonghai City's farmers' market, the noisy streams of pedestrians and vehicles moved through the evening without restraint.

The ground was covered in wilted vegetable leaves and filthy runoff, while the shop signs of every kind had long since lost their paint; here and there, a few of the more ordinary neon lights were already flickering.

Workers heading home, children getting out of school, elderly people buying groceries, and all kinds of dusty, weary passersby made the gray sky above them feel even more oppressive.

Perhaps in a cosmopolitan metropolis like this, a place like this district was like the stain people despised most in their own hearts, something they only wished had never existed.

Yet beside a low wall near the intersection, one person was leisurely doing something that, in other people's eyes, was not exactly respectable.

He was a young man selling lamb skewers, wearing a white tank top smeared with oil and dark grime, loose brown shorts, and a pair of dull blue rubber sandals.

His hair was a little messy, but his handsome face had a mature edge to it, his features were well balanced, and if you looked closely, there was even a strong masculine air about him.

Unfortunately, no matter how good he looked, the girls walking down the street would not spare him a second glance, because he was only a lamb skewer vendor.

The young man set aside a few freshly grilled skewers. In this heat, grilling was easy enough, but selling them was hard. Even though two skewers for fifty cents was already dirt cheap, after a full day he had only made a little over ten yuan, just enough for two meals.

Still, there was not much disappointment on his face. Instead, he wore a look of quiet contentment and ease as he sat down on the small stool behind him, watching the busy, anxious flow of traffic in front of him. To him, that scene seemed like the most beautiful landscape of all.

"Old Li, the money you promised the other day should be ready by now, right?" A shrill, duck-necked voice suddenly rang out beside him.

Three boys who looked no older than twenty came strolling over, dressed like little punks. The one leading them had his hair slicked up, a silver chain hanging from him, several holes cut into his jeans, a thin face, and a cigarette stuck in his mouth.

Old Li was a vendor selling fried snacks right next to the young man. Like him, he had no business to speak of in the scorching heat and could only sit there in frustration.

"This..." Old Li said with a miserable face. "My young boss, please cut me some slack. Look at this weather. If I have no business, how am I supposed to pay?"

"I say, Old Li, don't be ungrateful. If it weren't for our Brother Feng covering you here, your stall would've been torn down already," one of the underlings threatened and flattered him at the same time.

The punk they called Brother Feng looked very pleased with himself. He grinned and patted the flattering little runt on the shoulder, then said to Old Li, "I want today's protection money. Whether you give it to me or not, I have to get the cash. Otherwise I'll flip your stall right now!" After saying that, he casually grabbed a skewer of grilled sausage, took two big bites, and threw the remaining half onto the ground.

Old Li was at his wit's end, clutching the small stack of bills in his pocket. He had planned to just hold out like this. That money was for his old wife to see a doctor and buy medicine. How could he bear to hand it over as "tribute" to these thug bastards!?

"I'll pay for him." The young man selling lamb skewers suddenly walked over from the side, pulled a few dry-looking bills from his pocket, together not even more than a hundred yuan, and handed them over as he said coolly, "That's all there is. Old Li is old and needs money urgently, so you should try earning some merit instead of doing this."

The punk narrowed his eyes and laughed. He took the bills, handed them to the underling behind him, and said, "Yang Chen, you still want to play the good guy? You haven't even paid your own protection money yet!"

Yang Chen frowned. He felt that these little brats were wasting their youth, not studying properly and instead running around as gangsters, but he was not their father, so it was not his place to lecture them. He also did not want any more trouble, so he said flatly, "Tomorrow then. I'll pay tomorrow."

"Fine. I'm a reasonable man too. We all cooperate properly, I protect your business, and you pay me. That's only natural... I'll come collect tomorrow." With that, the punk swaggered off with his two lackeys to harass the other street vendors.

By then, Old Li's eyes were already red. He looked at Yang Chen with bitterness and gratitude mixed together. "Xiao Yang, why go through all this? You keep paying those lackeys for me, and how am I supposed to live with myself?"

"Old Li, don't say that. When I first came here, I didn't know a soul. If it weren't for you, I still wouldn't have a single person to talk to. You were kind to me. Let me take this as my way of repaying you."

"You kid... what am I supposed to say about you..." Old Li seemed to know he could not argue with Yang Chen, and could only sigh silently.

Yang Chen smiled it off. His smile was faint, but genuine, not the least bit affected by the extortion just now. "By the way, how's your wife's illness?"

Old Li's eyes were full of gratitude. "Thanks to the money you lent me before, my wife got the surgery. Now she just needs a few more checkups and some medicine, and she'll be fine."

"Good then. I hope she gets better soon." Yang Chen nodded in satisfaction.

Old Li gave a wry smile. "Xiao Yang, the money you lent me, I will definitely pay you back. If I still can't finish paying it off even when I die, I'll have my daughter keep paying you... Sigh, if it weren't for me, you could have used those hundred thousand yuan or so to open a decent shop. You wouldn't need to be here selling lamb skewers and taking the humiliation from those punks."

Yang Chen curled his lip. "I actually quite like this kind of life. Selling lamb skewers is pretty good. Simple, and enough to get by with a few meals."

"You...