Chapter 4

As I approached the store, a low, threatening voice came from a dark alley.

I moved closer and listened carefully.

“Hey, you’ve been talked about a lot lately. You know that?”

“Yes.”

“You know? If you know, why are you acting like this?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t know.”

“You don’t? Even a three-year-old knows the manners and rules that you, at your age, don’t know?”

Peeking in, I saw Zhang Jiesi being held by a few men.

Why is Zhang Jiesi so submissive? He’s not the type to give in easily.

My doubts were soon resolved.

In the center of the men stood a large, pig-like figure.

Aixinjueluo Xiqia (愛新覺羅 熙洽).

An eighth-year senior and a collateral member of the Manchu royal family.

And, most importantly, the leader of the Falqi faction.

“Did you go out alone?”

“...Yes.”

“Shit. There’s always someone who hangs around with you. Where is he? Speak up honestly.”

“I came alone.”

“You’re not listening, brat.”

Jie-ssi...

For my sake...?

Unfortunately, no tears came. It doesn’t matter if they find out where I am.

“Zhang Zhongzheng, you’re from Baoding Military Academy, right? You should know how things work. If you don’t want to face any disadvantages when you graduate and become an officer, think carefully. I have connections in the military hierarchy.”

“...”

“Be a bit more obedient. Bowing isn’t shameful. Your ancestors all lived that way, so why are you so stubborn? Look at history. The Han people’s nature is to conform.”

Eh.

That’s Zhang Jiesi’s trigger button.

Zhang Jiesi, who had been listening quietly, lifted his head.

Even from a distance, his burning gaze was palpable.

“Take back those words.”

“What?”

“The Han people do not conform.”

“What, why are you suddenly like this, brat? Are you crazy?”

“The unjust oppression of the Manchu will ultimately meet a miserable end.”

Xiqia and the other eighth-year students looked at each other.

Their exchanged glances seemed to foreshadow an impending group beating.

Since there was no need to hide anymore, I stepped into the alley.

Xiqia, who heard my approaching footsteps, called out energetically.

“He’s here. Your friend is here. Hey! Come on in!”

“Looking for me?”

Xiqia laughed heartily.

“Of course. Han Xin, right?”

“Right.”

“Ha, I don’t know where this Korean has lost his nerve. Did he sell it to the Japanese?”

The group of eighth-year students snickered.

I ignored them and asked.

“Who are you?”

“You don’t know?”

“No.”

“You don’t know me?”

“Yeah.”

Xiqia’s lips still wore a smile, but his eyes were no longer smiling.

It’s clear. He’s pissed.

“So you’re not even going to salute?”

“You have to tell me who you are first.”

“Fine. Let’s test your patience. I’m Aixinjueluo Xiqia, an eighth-year student at Jinwu School.”

“You’re a senior.”

“Now that you know, salute.”

I stretched, pretending to raise my arm to salute, but then casually lowered it.

“Come on, senior. This isn’t school. Why should I salute here?”

“Salute.”

“No.”

“Salute!”

“Screw it.”

Xiqia, still holding Zhang Jiesi, pushed him away.

He strode toward me.

“When I first heard that a Fangzi had entered Jinwu, I didn’t care. I just thought they were accepting all sorts of people.”

“‘All sorts of people’ sounds a bit harsh.”

“But then strange rumors started circulating. About Han Xin... that you’re a strategic genius? How dare you, a mere Fangzi, claim the name of the great general Han Xin!”

“It’s not a claim. My father gave me that name.”

“You’re dead today.”

Xiqia charged at me with a fist as big as a pot lid.

His gang followed.

I waited until they were close, then picked up a piece of wood I had noticed earlier.

I struck Xiqia’s head.

Smack!

The impact felt great.

“Ouch!”

Xiqia clutched his forehead and fell.

A brawl ensued.

To be precise, it was more like a one-sided beating by me.

In the narrow alley, the long-range wooden stick was almost invincible.

Swinging it around, no one could get close.

“Han Xin, do you think you’ll be safe when you return to school?”

“What? You’re the one who started the fight.”

“Who dares to be so disrespectful to a senior like this!”

“Jinwu isn’t a military academy. The salute and seniority rules are just bullshit.”

After a while, the eighth-year students, who had been fighting fiercely, were covered in blue bruises.

It was hilarious to see them run away, cursing.

In the alley, after the eighth-year students had disappeared, Zhang Jiesi approached.

“Wow. I knew you were good at fighting, but this is something else. Are you a former gangster or something?”

Saying “Yeah, I’m a gangster” would have been a bit much.

“You’re like a reincarnation of Guan Yu. Saying ‘I came alone.’ You’re a real man of honor.”

“You’re the one who’s like Guan Yu. I just realized how strong this wooden stick is. I should take it to school and make it into a Green Dragon Crescent Blade.”

“Sure.”

After a moment, Zhang Jiesi swallowed and said,

“But what do we do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are we going to do when we return to school?”

Beating up Xiqia and the eighth-year students was satisfying, but even the student council has its limits.

If I turned the entire Falqi faction into enemies, school life would undoubtedly become very difficult.

“I have a plan.”

“What is it?”

I handed the Green Dragon Crescent Blade to Zhang Jiesi.

“First, you be Guan Yu. I’ll be Zhuge Liang.”

“Huh?”

“The Three Kingdoms Strategy, or rather, the Jinwu Three Kingdoms Strategy. We’ll create a new faction in Jinwu, where the Falqi and Beiyang factions are fighting. We’ll call it the Revolution faction.”

“Okay! But how?”

“We need to raise revolutionary awareness. First, we need paper and a brush.”

Without being asked, Zhang Jiesi ran to the store, babbling.

***

Sometime later, strange documents began circulating in Jinwu.

It was called .

When Xiqia first received the document, he was deeply moved.

He wanted to find the author and applaud them.

But he couldn’t find the person who wrote it no matter how he searched.

Still, it was enough. He loved it.

It felt like all the problems he had only thought about in his head were suddenly solved.

An excerpt read:

“...Recently, the implementation of new policies has led to the creation of schools and the dispatch of students abroad. However, the vast majority of these students are Han, and as their knowledge increases, they become hostile to the government... (omitted) ...We must prevent the advancement of these students’ knowledge and strictly prohibit their activities. In particular, secret police should be assigned to monitor government-sponsored students, and if any subversive actions are detected, they should be immediately repatriated and punished. Furthermore, it is right to limit officer candidates to those from the 8th class...”

Xiqia kept the document in his pocket and carried it with him always.

He read it several times even while using the toilet.

One day, he saw another student holding the document.

“Hey, where did you get that book?”

“I found it.”

“Where?”

“It was on the floor in the toilet. I thought you lost it while using the toilet.”

His copy was intact.

A new edition had appeared.

It was fine until then. The new edition was also from the Falqi faction.

But the number of copies of the document kept increasing, and more and more students outside the Falqi faction started reading it.

Finally, it fell into the hands of someone who shouldn’t have it.

“Look at what those evil Manchus are doing! How can the Han people endure this?”

Zhang Jiesi.

He was a master of agitation.

Raising national consciousness was very effective, and Han students quickly gathered around Zhang Jiesi, forming a force.

“Revolution faction? Are the 10th-year students crazy?”

“It’s not just the 10th-year students. Some 9th and 8th-year students have joined too. There are too many of them, and public opinion is not good.”

“So what? We can beat them all.”

“How? Even the Beiyang faction seems to be swayed by the Revolution faction. We’re the ones who will be beaten.”

How did it come to this?

Xiqia, who had once loved the document, now hated it.

The more he thought about it, the more suspicious it became.

The strategies he had applauded in the document now seemed overly explicit and extreme.

One face kept coming to mind.

Han Xin.

A strategic genius, they said.

Could he be behind this?

Ruminating wouldn’t solve the problem.

Emotions wouldn’t solve it either.

The Falqi faction, led by Xiqia, had to hunker down.

The Falqi faction agreed to the document and decided to give up some of the privileges they had enjoyed in Jinwu.

Fortunately, the unrest centered on the Han students subsided.

Jinwu School stabilized into a situation where the Falqi, Beiyang, and Revolution factions checked each other.

The seasons passed quickly.

Soon, the graduation ceremony at Jinwu School was approaching.

It was a ceremony for the 8th-year students, including one 10th-year student.

___________________________________________

When Possibilities Abound

After the graduation ceremony at Jinwu School, a brief sense of liberation washed over me.

I packed my bags immediately. I’m going home!

In the Japanese education system, Jinwu is equivalent to a military preparatory school.

Typically, Japanese officer candidates would receive about six months of unit assignment training after graduating from the preparatory school.

The idea was that serving as a soldier and gaining experience would be beneficial when they became commanders.

However, Qing students studying in Japan would not become Japanese military officers, so they had no obligation for unit assignment.

Still, most of the 8th-year students volunteered to join Japanese military units.

Rumors circulated that the treatment of those who had received unit assignment training after entering the military academy was much better.

But that kind of discrimination is as familiar to me as the rice I eat every day.

In fact, I even felt a sense of emptiness when a day passed quietly.

I boarded a passenger ship bound for Hong Kong.

***

Vroom.

The sound of the horn announcing our arrival. My heart raced.

The familiar smell of the port city hit my nose.

It was home.

A year in Tokyo.

I grew one centimeter taller and became fluent in Japanese.

I read about twenty classics and my arms became quite muscular.

And I had a bulging pocket.

As soon as I got off the ship, I exchanged the dirty money at the Hong Kong Bank.

With a clean bag of money, I headed straight home.

Home sweet home... but it’s a shack that looks like it might collapse at any moment.

The door hinges screeched as I opened the door.

“Mother! I’m here!”

Heavy footsteps approached, and my mother ran over.

“Shin-a!”

She hugged me.

Warmth immediately welled up inside me.

“Oh, why didn’t you contact us?”

“I was coming anyway. No need to waste money on a letter.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I graduated from the preparatory school and am on a break. I’ll go back to Japan in the fall to enter the military academy.”

“Good job. Good job.”

My mother patted my back.

Why does it feel so weak?

She seems to have aged a lot in just one year.

“Is Father at the port?”

“Yes, and Xishi will be there too.”

“Why is she at the port?”

“She’s working with Father. It’s a mess.”

Han Xishi (韓西施).

My only sister.

“I’ll go see Father and buy some dinner. We’ll eat together.”

“Sure. You look so thin. Bring back something delicious.”

I’ve gained a lot of muscle, but maybe I have lost some weight.

Japanese meals are too simple for me.

I thought I liked fish, but I realize now that I only like meat from land animals.

The streets of Hong Kong’s Kowloon were as they always were.

Buildings were haphazardly added and expanded, and rickshaws and carriages noisily crisscrossed the streets.

The scene of arrogant British people walking on the main roads while Chinese people walked bent over to the side was the same.

As I approached the port, the atmosphere became more chaotic.

Drunk white men were flirting with women on their arms.

They were peeing anywhere and drinking rum non-stop, vomiting as they went.

It was still early for the evening shift to end.

I entered a nearby Victorian-style tavern.

“No Chinese.”

I had to give the attendant more tips than expected.

The tavern was quiet, mostly British people.

I looked around with excitement.

I found it.

A neat pinball machine was placed in the corner.

It was just a few rusty nails and a ball rolling over them, but it had a proper appearance.

I immediately put in a ball.

This feeling. It’s been a while.

I haven’t touched a smartphone or PC in a long time, but this is a kind of entertainment, and I found myself engrossed.

It was simple but incredibly fun.

I spent a long time playing with the balls.

The reason I came back to Hong Kong and skipped the unit assignment training was to start a pachinko business.

If I could get a head start in the pachinko market, which would become a national gambling craze in Japan, I could become a tycoon.

I wrote down the name of the pinball machine manufacturer so I wouldn’t forget it and went back to the streets.

I bought some meat at the market, and it was already getting dark.

I waited at the entrance to the port, and soon the exhausted sailors came out one by one.

I saw a familiar face and waved.

“Father!”

“Yeah, you’re here.”

He wasn’t particularly surprised.

Maybe he’s seen a lot of tough times since he was young.

I don’t remember him ever being surprised.

“Brother!”

Instead, someone else welcomed me.

Xishi ran over and hugged me.

My Xishi. Always a cute and affectionate little sister.

“Brother! Did you graduate from the military academy?”

“No... not that fast.”

“Come on. You’re so smart, I thought you’d graduate super fast.”

“I’m already on a super-fast track.”

Xishi helps Father with accounting after school.

It’s admirable but also a bit sad to see a teenage girl working among tired and sweaty sailors.

She’s at the age where she should be dressing up and looking pretty.

But her eyes were tired from the hard work all day.

When she’s this excited and chattering, her bright and fresh aura shines through.

Father’s nickname for her, Xishi (a beauty from the Spring and Autumn period, a symbol of Chinese beauty), doesn’t seem out of place at all.

“Brother, what’s that you’re holding?”

“Dinner.”

“Meat? Meat! I’ve been eating fish all the time, I love it!”

Indeed, my sister.

Fish isn’t even considered meat. Right?

It was a long time since I felt this family warmth.

It also reminded me to tighten the slack in my resolve.

To protect this happiness, I need to do better.

For the next few decades, the continent will be plunged into turmoil.

I, who know the future, need to do well.

***

The Hong Kong Triad welcomed me warmly.

Duzhengzi, the action leader, patted my back.

It hurt a lot