The one who sneered was Jin Fugui.

He was a man of brute strength, a standout among the second-class rickshaw pullers, and rumored to be on the verge of promotion to chief of the second-class pullers.

A chief oversaw all second-class pullers in the yard—a big shot by any measure!

Xiangzi set down his copper basin, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, and said slowly, “Being civilized is better—at least you’d know a few more numbers.”

He added, “Fourth Master was mentioning it just yesterday.”

At the mention of Fourth Master, the pullers’ smirks vanished, their eyes snapping to Xiangzi.

Unhurried, Xiangzi splashed cold water on his face and said casually, “The ore hauling job calls for six baskets a day, but some folks only turn in five. Not knowing numbers sure makes things messy.”

Fourth Master Liu was checking the ore basket counts?

The smiles on the pullers’ faces froze.

Hauling ore from the Li family mines back to the city was a perilous job in these chaotic times. The second-class pullers, a rough bunch, never missed a chance to skim a little off the top.

Xiangzi glanced pointedly at the Rickshaw Rules posted on the wall before turning to the cabinet, tossing out lightly, “Oh, I recall—yesterday’s books were short one entry. Seems Brother Jin missed two baskets of ore, but Fourth Master hasn’t caught on yet.”

Jin Fugui stiffened, and whispers rippled through the crowd.

Xiangzi added, “But Fourth Master also said pulling a living ain’t easy. A slip-up now and then can be overlooked. If someone helps cover Brother Jin’s shortfall, the books balance out.”

Before he finished, a few pullers crowded around Jin Fugui.

“Brother Jin, I’ll run a trip to the mines for you tonight!”

“Tomorrow I’ll haul an extra half-load and split two baskets with you!”

Xiangzi, back to the crowd, let a faint smile curl his lips.

He’d calculated it perfectly: these second-class pullers might seem tight-knit, but they were each out for themselves.

Point out one man’s fault, offer a way out, and the rabble would unravel themselves.

Sure enough, Jin Fugui’s face darkened, but he could only grit out, “Xiangzi, I owe you one this time!”

And so, under the pullers’ awed gazes, Xiangzi sauntered over, stowing his basin and towel in the central cabinet.

Hmph, think you can mess with me?

Knowledge is power—got that?

Xiangzi knew the second-class pullers weren’t convinced.

By Forty-Nine City’s rickshaw yard rules, only those with “awakened vitality” could haul ore from the mines outside the city. Ordinary men couldn’t withstand the extraordinary energy radiating from the ore.

Harmony Rickshaw Yard was no different. These second-class pullers didn’t carry passengers—they hauled ore.

Called pullers in name, they were really unranked martial artists.

Naturally, they looked down on third-class pullers like Xiangzi, who scraped by ferrying passengers for pennies.

What those ores were, Xiangzi couldn’t say, only that they were for the cultivators in the embassy district.

The rickshaw yards in Forty-Nine City thrived on this trade. Connections to the embassy district’s noble families meant stable wealth.

For a yard, the key was having routes.

Routes that delivered to the embassy district.

Rumor had it that in his youth, Fourth Master Liu had forged ties with a noble family in the embassy district, securing the Li family mine route that made him prosperous.

Having a route was one thing—protecting it was another.

Harmony’s dozens of salaried second-class pullers, plus Fourth Master Liu’s four foster sons, were his greatest assets in holding Qingfeng Street.

In Xiangzi’s memory, he’d witnessed more than one bloody brawl on Qingfeng Street.

These ruthless men, who lived by the blade, respected only the size of one’s fists.

Sadly, Xiangzi’s fists weren’t hard enough yet.

In this chaotic world, without a skill to stand on, you were at others’ mercy.

Adjusting his blue cloth shirt, Xiangzi tied his pant legs with twine, baring his large feet.

Standard rickshaw puller garb.

He paid his fee, grabbed his tag, and picked an almost-new rickshaw from the shed.

As he pulled it to the gate, someone called out.

It was Liu Tang.

“Xiangzi, got a moment?”

“Brother Tang, your orders?”

“Heading to East City later?

”

“Just planning to drum up some business there.”

Liu Tang reached into his jacket, pulled out a gilded brocade box, and handed it over with a smile. “If you pass by Baolin Martial Hall, deliver this to Master Lin Junqing.”

Xiangzi took the box, wrapped it carefully in a piece of blue printed cloth from under the rickshaw shaft, and tucked it into a hidden compartment in the wicker frame.

Seeing Xiangzi’s meticulous care, Liu Tang’s smile widened. He pulled a silver dollar from his pocket.

Xiangzi shook his head, grinning. “Brother Tang, that’s too much.”

Liu Tang chuckled, giving a slight bow. “Then I owe you one. We’ll share a drink another day.”

Though it was just jianghu courtesy, coming from Fourth Master Liu’s foster son, it carried more weight than most promises.

Xiangzi lifted the rickshaw handles, the brass bell jingling “ding-a-ling” with his steps as he melted into South City’s bustling traffic.

Liu Tang watched Xiangzi’s retreating figure, a touch of curiosity in his heart. This quiet kid’s come alive lately—not just literate, but sharp-tongued too! No wonder Fourth Master’s taken a shine to him.

Maybe he’ll actually land that bookkeeper job.

Liu Tang tucked his hands into his sleeves and headed back.

After Xiangzi and Liu Tang left, two figures emerged from a corner of the yard.

“Brother Jin, when did Xiangzi get cozy with Master Tang?” muttered a skinny, monkey-like man.

Then he gasped. “You don’t think Xiangzi told Master Tang about our mine business, do you?”

“That’s trouble, Brother Jin!”

Jin Fugui’s voice was cold. “Quit panicking. Master Tang’s got no say over us! We second-class pullers answer to Master Hu!”

Despite his words, his face grew darker.

When Xiangzi pointed out his missing two baskets of ore, Jin Fugui had taken note.

As Xiangzi said, it wasn’t a big deal. If Fourth Master Liu found out, it’d likely just be a verbal reprimand—cover the loss, and it’s done.

Jin Fugui had toiled for Fourth Master Liu for nearly a decade; the old man would show some face.

But he wasn’t sure if Xiangzi knew more.

If Xiangzi got ambitious and dug into the past six months’ accounts, the ore numbers wouldn’t hold up!

His voice turned icy. “Keep an eye on Xiangzi these next few days. See what he’s saying to others.”

“Got it, Brother Jin!”

Xiangzi had no idea he was being watched.

The books he managed for Fourth Master Liu were mostly third-class pullers’ fees, daily yard expenses, and wages—tedious but unimportant.

As for the Li family mine accounts, Xiangzi had no access. The two baskets Jin Fugui shorted? He’d only heard it mentioned in passing by Girl Hu.

The Li family mine route was Harmony’s lifeline in Forty-Nine City, and only Girl Hu knew the full details of those accounts.

Fourth Master Liu didn’t trust Xiangzi that far yet.

But right now, Xiangzi was pulling his rickshaw with gusto.

Luck was on his side. Right out of Harmony, he picked up a passenger.

The man was in a rush to get to Four Seas Gambling House in East City, maybe hoping for a lucky streak. He tipped Xiangzi eight coppers upon arrival.

Xiangzi happily pocketed them, not forgetting to wish, “Prosperity to you, boss!”

And there was more good news.

[Rickshaw Puller Experience +1]

[Rickshaw Puller Experience +1]

[Rickshaw Puller Experience +1]

By the time he reached South City’s gate, his panel had gained 3 points.

[Rickshaw Puller Profession Upgraded to Minor Mastery]

[Profession: Rickshaw Puller (Minor Mastery)]

[Progress: 1/500]

[Skill: Gale Stride]

[You run extremely fast and possess considerable lower body strength.]

Xiangzi let out a long breath. This blasted rickshaw puller profession finally hit minor mastery!