Chapter 136: Youthful Travels

Chapter 136: The Young Man Zhou You

At the third watch of the night, the moon hung bright and stars were sparse.

Yet at the No. 1 Wharf of Chaotianmen in Chongqing Prefecture, the air buzzed with voices and excitement, a scene of extraordinary liveliness.

Today marked the customary monthly salary day for the dock workers of the Southwest Canal Transport Group.

These wage-earning "dock slaves" showed no haste in returning home; instead, they gathered here, eyes gleaming with excitement as they gazed upon a platform nearly three feet off the ground, constructed from iron plates spanning two zhang square.

Upon it, a figure swung fists and kicked wildly, the blows crackling like thunder.

It was said the boss had invited a minor arena under the banner of the Sichuan-Chongqing Gambling Association to stage a performance match, a token of gratitude for the laborers' recent overtime toil.

For these men who rose with the sun and labored till dusk, this was a rare indulgence.

Most crucially, the boss declared no fees would be charged—the spectacle was purely for their amusement.

To spurn such generosity would be a fool's choice.

"East grows dim, west shines bright; I bask in the setting sun, yet my heart is heavy with sorrow! Last night was idle, tonight I toil; after frolicking with my wife, I turn to gambling."

A melody of bold rock and roll drifted from the loudspeakers surrounding the ring.

Among the bustling crowd, many men in coarse cotton and hemp darted about.

Whenever intercepted, they would feign deference, producing a palm-sized electronic device and pressing it into the other's hand.

The laborers, upon receiving the device, would swipe their wage cards across it, then fix their glowing eyes on the screen beside the ring, scrutinizing the upcoming matchups to select their chosen fighters.

It was evident—someone had set up an illegal betting ring under the boss's nose.

Yet whether bookmaker or bettor, all understood the unspoken rule.

After all, without stakes, there could be no thrill, no passion!

Besides, watching the fights required no ticket—spending a little coin on a wager was a fine diversion.

Watching the fights with dry eyes was no better than returning home to indulge in the Yellow Lang dream, where every pleasure imaginable awaited—wine pools, meat forests, all within reach!

Moreover, pirated versions were affordable, provided one avoided sinking too deep.

Should the body grow weary, the herbal stalls of the countryside offered inexpensive tonics to restore vigor.

In dire cases, even if the mind grew muddled, one could seek solace in the temples of Taoism or Buddhism, purging desires and cleansing the spirit.

At the crowd's edge, two rows of upright seats were draped with curtains—this was where the fighters rested.

The organizer of today's event, Brother Leopard, stood nearby, clutching an e-cigarette, his brow furrowed as he eyed the empty chair at the end of the left row.

The seat remained vacant; clearly, the fighter had not yet arrived.

"Why hasn't that brat shown up yet?!"

Before Brother Leopard finished speaking, hurried footsteps echoed behind him.

A figure rushed over, the youth wrapped in a grimy robe, only his head visible, offering a fawning smile toward Brother Leopard.

Brother Leopard exhaled a cloud of vapor, seizing the youth's shoulders and pulling him aside.

"Zhou You, you wretch, why so late?!" His face darkened, a glint of menace flashing in his eyes.

The youth hunched his back, forcing a sheepish grin. "My brother suddenly fell ill, so I was delayed. Brother Leopard, don't be angry—it's not like the final match has started yet."

"Do you think if it had, you'd still be standing here talking to me?"

"I won't dare again, Brother Leopard."

Zhou You chuckled, lowering his voice. "What's the plan today?"

"The usual routine."

Brother Leopard jabbed his cigarette at Zhou You's chest, producing a dull metallic clang.

"The overseer of the Southwest Canal Transport Group has already been informed. Today, we must collect half the wages they've distributed, or not a penny will we see."

Zhou You's lips twitched imperceptibly, but his head jerked up sharply.

"Rest assured, I'll perform so convincingly it'll seem real. Though..."

The youth's tone shifted; he rubbed his face, wrapped in a cloth strip. "This face of mine is still fresh. Brother Leopard, you're too generous—surely you wouldn't have me throw the fight and pay out of pocket?"

"Don't worry. After today's work, you'll receive this sum."

Brother Leopard raised a finger, waving it before Zhou You's eyes.

"Ten thousand?! That much?!"

Zhou You gasped softly, his smile fading slightly into a wry grin. "Brother Leopard, you're squeezing them dry, aren't you?"

He had collaborated with this man before, enough to grasp his nature.

This was a man who devoured others without leaving a bone—a striped hyena. In their previous partnerships, Zhou You had at best claimed a twentieth, perhaps even a thirtieth share of the winnings.

Now, the offer of ten thousand silver notes meant he stood to gain at least two hundred thousand.

Given the wage level of these dock laborers, today would see at least half of them lose everything, even their trousers.

Moreover, his audacity was remarkable—he was no member of the Sichuan-Chongqing Gambling Association, yet each time he operated under their name.

Strangely, his luck had been uncanny; time and again, he had escaped the Association's wrath, avoiding death or drowning.

"These people are kept on a leash by the Group—if they lose everything, they still have a meal to keep them alive. But you, kid, should worry less about others and more about yourself!"

Brother Leopard clapped Zhou You's shoulder. "I recall your brother's consciousness is still trapped in the Huangliang Buddha Kingdom of Shoushan Temple, serving as a novice monk, isn't he? Do you wish to see him remain a lifelong source of computational power?"

"Of course not." The youth's smile was strained.

"Since your own rice has gone cold, keep your lofty morals to yourself. Follow me, and we'll do this a few more times. The money to redeem your brother will come naturally."

Brother Leopard gestured toward the resting area. "See that man? He's your opponent today."

Zhou You followed his gaze and spotted a towering figure, muscles bulging so fiercely that his loose robe clung like a tight-fitting garment.

By contrast, the chair beneath his buttocks looked as diminutive as a stool, his presence overwhelmingly fierce.

"This is a prodigy I've recently unearthed, hailed as a once-in-a-century genius of the martial path. His unorthodox skills rival those of a mechanized body!"

Brother Leopard's expression brimmed with pride. "This time, my gimmick is pitting flesh and blood against steel. These wretches, left with nothing but their mortal frames, will surely clamor to bet on him, leaping into the abyss one by one?"

Zhou You rubbed his face, offering insincere praise. "Finding such a rare talent—you're truly formidable, Brother Leopard!"

Brother Leopard snorted. "Just a rustic fake muscle, that's all. Make sure you hold back when you step into the ring, kid. Don't damage my investment."

"A bit tricky, but manageable."

The youth grinned. "My acting is flawless!"

As they spoke, the fight atop the platform had already concluded.

One boxer lay battered, resembling a blood gourd, collapsing into unconsciousness before being dragged down by the feet.

The laborers who had won cheered with the fervor of a tidal wave.

"The timing is right. Time for you to ascend and harvest the leeks."