第二十三章 (Chapter Twenty-Three)

Xiangzi was wandering the streets like a lost soul when he encountered Little Horse's grandfather. The old man no longer pulled a rickshaw. His blue cloth shirt was stained with grease, a far cry from the neat and tidy figure he once was. At the sight of him, Xiangzi's heart clenched involuntarily.

The old man told him that Little Horse had died of illness, the rickshaw was sold, and now he survived by collecting scraps. Xiangzi listened, unable to speak for a long while. He recalled that old man and young boy in the teahouse that winter. His heart felt as if blocked by a lump of ice.

Xiangzi felt even more desperate. He had still clung to a sliver of hope to buy a rickshaw, but now even that hope had vanished like smoke scattered by the wind, impossible to grasp. He shuffled along listlessly, not knowing where to go.

He walked to Tianqiao and saw a crowd gathered around a speaker. That person was none other than Ruan Ming. Ruan Ming was now involved in revolutionary activities, speaking in a loud voice and gesturing vehemently. Xiangzi hid among the crowd, afraid to show his face.

Ruan Ming recognized Xiangzi, but Xiangzi quickly dodged away. He feared Ruan Ming would bring up old matters, and even more, he dreaded stirring up the shame buried in his heart. Xiangzi knew that Ruan Ming was now a dangerous figure. Associating with him would bring no good.

But Xiangzi needed money. His money had long been spent, and he couldn't even afford a meal. The thought of informing occurred to him. If he reported Ruan Ming, he might get some money. This idea slithered into his heart like a venomous snake.

Xiangzi hesitated for several days. He was afraid, yet hunger became unbearable. Finally, he steeled his heart and went to find the detective who had once arrested him.

The detective listened to Xiangzi's words and grinned. He patted Xiangzi on the shoulder and said, "Boy, you've got guts! If this succeeds, you'll get your share of the rewards."

Xiangzi received sixty dollars. Holding the money in his hand, it felt scorching hot, yet he couldn't bear to let go. He lowered his head and hurried away, as if a ghost were chasing him from behind.

Ruan Ming was arrested. When Xiangzi heard this, his heart skipped a beat. He dared not think about what was happening to Ruan Ming now. He only clenched the money tightly in his hand.

The money was soon spent. Xiangzi used it to drink, smoke, and muddle through a few days aimlessly. He felt utterly finished, dirty through and through.

He no longer thought about buying a rickshaw or about the future. Sometimes, he lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling, feeling that his heart had already died. What remained was merely a breathing corpse.

Xiangzi began to imitate those old hands, becoming crafty, lazy, and deceitful. The scar on his face looked even uglier under the dim light.