Chapter Thirty-Three: White Waves

Chen Mu was a social-phobic shut-in in his previous life. His only spark of passion had been reserved for anime and manga. Even after arriving in a new world, despite a faint desire to explore, he found he was still more accustomed to staying indoors. It is difficult for a person to change; even in a new world, it was merely a change of scenery, and he simply continued his old way of life.

Yet, it was not entirely without change. In the past, he would never have practiced a skill until he forgot to eat or sleep. Perhaps change is not so difficult after all, provided that the change offers a sense of accomplishment. The art of physical cultivation, the flying locust stones, the hidden blade—these extraordinary powers that existed only in novels and anime in his past life were now all his. How could he not be obsessed when he could clearly feel himself growing stronger, bit by bit?

Beyond staying home to practice, he had acquired a new hobby: running in the wilderness. The feeling of the wind rushing past his ears was a clear reminder that he was no longer an ordinary person. At the East Gate of Qingshan County, Chen Mu had deliberately taken a long detour from the South Gate just to spend more time running in the uninhabited wild. It was unthinkable—a fat shut-in who wouldn't move an inch all day in his previous life now enjoyed running.

In the East Market, Chen Mu wore a bamboo hat and grey clothes, his skin stained a sun-kissed brown, with a birthmark painted onto his face. "Fresh live fish, thirty coins each, first come, first served!" he roared in a rough, bold voice. The servants of various noble houses, who had been lingering nearby, immediately swarmed him. Supplies in Qingshan County were still tight, and fresh fish was a rare luxury. The appearance of this fisherman had long been noted by those with ulterior motives, and the moment he appeared, a frenzy of buying would ensue. Two baskets of fish were quickly sold out. With empty baskets and a thick string of copper coins tucked into his clothes, Chen Mu strode away.

As he walked, two burly men in grey tunics blocked his path. Their bare arms were marked with blue wave tattoos, and their dark faces were filled with coarse flesh. They were grinning at him. "Hey fisherman, your lucky day has come. Our White Wave Gang has a big business deal to discuss with you!"

Chen Mu looked at them, completely unsurprised. He had noticed people quietly observing him since the third time he had sold a large quantity of fish. They had finally lost their patience and jumped out. "Very well," Chen Mu said calmly.

Now it was the two gang members' turn to be surprised. Was this fisherman really so composed? "At least you're sensible," they snorted. "Come with us."

"No problem," Chen Mu replied peacefully. He followed them as they walked.

The two men kept their eyes on him, one in front and one behind. Chen Mu felt no tension at all as he walked with them through the East Market. Judging by the direction, they seemed to be heading toward Anle District. But as they walked, the man trailing behind suddenly had his line of sight blocked by a passing middle-aged man. He didn't pay it much mind, but when the passerby moved on, the fisherman had vanished! Where was he? Hadn't he been right there a moment ago? The two men stood blankly at the street corner; aside from the flowing crowd, there was no sign of Chen Mu.

Inside a small alley, Chen Mu carried his baskets, walking with a light, swift step. They were just gang thugs; they were good at brawling with ordinary people, but that was all. The leaping style of the Falcon Cultivation Art was best for rapid movement and agility. By simply adjusting his pace and using the crowd for cover, he had easily shaken them off. He would have to be insane to follow those two to the so-called White Wave Gang.

"They didn't just ask for protection money; they wanted to take me for a 'talk.' It's not my fish they're after," Chen Mu mused silently. "Selling large amounts of fresh fish at once was too eye-catching." There was only the White Wave River outside Qingshan County, no large lakes. An ordinary fisherman wouldn't have harvests like his. Chen Mu sighed. Never underestimate anyone, especially gangs on the street—they were cunning. "Someone has set their sights on my medicated bait."

After dodging pedestrians and taking a circuitous route to avoid being tracked, Chen Mu returned to his home in the West City. On the east side of the courtyard was a grapevine trellis left by the previous tenant. The vines were intertwined, covering the wooden frame to form a natural sunshade. Beneath it sat a stone table, and beside it sat a familiar figure. With silver hair and beard, drooping eyelids, and an expressionless face, it was Jie Jia, waiting for a meal.

Ever since Chen Mu had moved in, Jie Jia had become a regular guest, eating all three meals there. With this great master guarding the place, Chen Mu felt much safer. A few meals were nothing to him. At the moment, Jie Jia was busy rolling balls—silver balls. He held a piece of scrap silver in his left hand, pinched it with the thumb and index finger of his right, then squeezed and pulled. The hard metal acted like modeling clay, easily yielding a small chunk, which he then rolled between his fingers into a silver bead the size of a soybean. He worked the beads until they were smooth and round, devoid of any sharp edges; it was clear he was an expert.

Noticing Chen Mu enter, Jie Jia glanced over, then picked up the silver beans from the table one by one, cradling them in his palm. With a flick of his wrist, he swept them into his sleeve, and the silver beans vanished completely.

Chen Mu was unfazed by Jie Jia’s peculiar hobby. He glanced at him and went inside to "remove his makeup."

Half an hour later, pan-fried fish, poached fish fillets, cold-dressed seasonal vegetables, fish ball soup, and white wheat rice—a full spread of fragrant dishes covered the stone table.

"I want to ask about something," Chen Mu said, picking up a piece of poached fish.

"Speak," Jie Jia said, his eyes squinted as he chewed a fish ball.

"Do you know the White Wave Gang?" Chen Mu asked.

Jie Jia squinted, thinking. "Two taels."

"Agreed," Chen Mu nodded.

"I'll tell you after dinner," Jie Jia said, taking a bite of the sour, refreshing vegetables with a satisfied nod. "In trouble? I could help you get rid of them," he tempted.

"Forget it," Chen Mu waved his hand. "I can't afford that price."

"I can offer a discount," Jie Jia coaxed.

"Ninety percent off?" Chen Mu asked with feigned surprise.

Jie Jia: "..." Go to hell!

...

At night, in the courtyard next to the Zuo family’s residence, Chen Mu lit an oil lamp and carefully studied the note in his hand. Zhang Ye, the leader of the White Wave Gang, had three hall masters under him; they were the largest gang in the East Market. The majority of the prosperous East Market, including Anle District, was their territory. It was said they were backed by one of the great families in the city. Xinyou Alley was their main base, where daily tasks, negotiations, and financial distributions took place.

"East Market, Xinyou Alley..." Chen Mu pondered for a long while and sighed helplessly. "This world is so unfriendly to ordinary people." He was just trying to sell some fish, but he had inadvertently invited envy. They had tried to track him down to force him to hand over his fishing secret. "Even if I gave it to them, I wouldn't have any peace."

To ensure the secret didn't leak, his fate would likely be grim. Being forced to work for the White Wave Gang would be the best-case scenario. If he encountered someone ruthless, they might just kill him to silence him. "Why," he wondered, "can't people just be good?"