Chapter One: Ding Li

Under the clear sky, the sea breeze seemed less fierce than usual. At the wharf, several great ocean vessels had just docked, their hulking forms now at rest. A group of muscular men, their bronzed backs glistening under the sun, worked together to haul thick hemp ropes, their bodies straining in concert.

The hulls rocked as the ships settled, sending waves lapping against the shore. On the deck, a foreman shouted orders, his voice carrying over the water. With the slow advance of the laborers on land, the enormous ships finally steadied, the waves at the quay dying down.

Soon, several nimble hands on shore caught the ropes and anchors thrown from above, quickly securing them to the posts. One by one, the ships came to rest, firmly moored.

Beside a pile of wooden crates filled with cargo, Ding Li squatted on the ground, holding a battered porcelain bowl in one hand while he tore fiercely at a hard, dry flatbread with the other. He chewed with determination, pausing now and then to gulp down a mouthful of tepid fresh water. His bare torso was ridged with knots of muscle, each bulging like a clenched fist, hard as stone.

Yet his dark skin was crisscrossed with scars, some thick, some thin, long and short, and among them were small round holes. Of course, no one knew that these wounds had been caused by a deadly weapon known as a firearm.

“Brother Li!” A young man, not quite one meter seventy tall, ran over, sweat streaming down his face but grinning widely as he waved at Ding Li. “Little Li settled it! A whole ship’s worth of cargo—enough to keep us brothers busy all afternoon. Might be we’ll have to stay late again tonight!”

“All right! As long as there’s work, that’s what matters. We’ve got families to feed!” Ding Li glanced up at the newcomer, grinning to reveal a mouthful of white teeth. He nodded, stuffed the last bite of bread into his mouth, and stood to clap the young man’s shoulder, his voice warm. “Good work, Gouzi.”

“Not hard at all—how could it be!” Gouzi, the short one, laughed, shaking his head. Then he turned to Ding Li with a mischievous smirk, winking meaningfully at the men behind Ding Li, teasing, “If we’re talking hard work, Brother Li has it hardest! Working by day, and not much rest at night, either!”

“That’s right! Brother Li’s got real good fortune, at least there’s a woman at home. That’s more than us bachelors can say!”

“Hey, Brother Li, you looked tired this morning. Got paid yesterday, I bet your wife treated you well last night?”

“You bunch of rascals!” Ding Li smiled happily at their banter, though deep within the curve of his lips hid a trace of pain, undetectable to most. He waved at the laughing men behind him and strode toward the direction Gouzi pointed, calling back without turning, “Move fast, all of you! Anyone who dawdles gets their pay docked!”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the young men rushed forward en masse—not because they feared having their wages docked, but simply because this group of dockworkers, earning a living through brute strength, still managed to live joyfully and freely.

Ding Li was their leader. On the wharf, it was common for wages to be withheld for all sorts of reasons, and most bosses were bullies who preyed on the weak. Whenever Ding Li demanded payment, he always got it all at once. Once, a boss tried to cheat Gouzi and ended up bound tight and thrown into the sea, five fingers broken, while even the bigger men were beaten into submission by Ding Li.

After that lesson, few merchants at Guangzhou Port dared to withhold wages, whether or not Ding Li was present. Though rough in their ways, Ding Li’s crew completed every job on time, with speed and quality guaranteed.

Ding Li led the way, Gouzi and the others following briskly behind, though unable to match his stride. At times like these, the men would quietly ponder the question: who exactly was their Brother Li? Even his gait seemed godlike, tall and sturdy as a mountain.

With a faint smile at his lips, Ding Li suddenly froze, his body tensing as a scene before him made his eye twitch. In the next instant, he sprang forward like a leopard, covering more than ten meters in a flash.

“What happened? Little Li, who did this?” Seeing Little Li, whom he’d sent to negotiate wages with the merchants, staggering forward supported by two brothers, Ding Li immediately sensed trouble. When Little Li lifted his face, anger surged within Ding Li, blanking his mind for a moment.

Little Li’s front tooth was broken, blood dribbling from his mouth, cheeks bruised, and both eyes swollen like boiled eggs, the eyeballs invisible.

“B—brother Li…” Little Li tried to speak, but the movement tugged at the wounds on his lips, making him hiss in pain.

“Don’t talk!” Ding Li pressed Little Li’s shoulder, drawing him close. He frowned, addressing the two accompanying brothers in a low voice, “Wang De, Wang Huan, what happened? Who hit Little Li?”

Wang De and Wang Huan were brothers. Both bore minor injuries, but nothing compared to Little Li. Seeing Ding Li, they looked aggrieved—what was usually an easy task had turned into a disaster, and they’d been beaten as well.

“Brother Li, it was those guys from the Xunzhou Gang!” Young Wang Huan squeezed out two tears, while his elder brother Wang De pushed him aside and cursed loudly, “Brother Li! It was those Xunzhou bastards! They tried to snatch our job, and when we argued, they ganged up and beat us, said they’d do it every time they saw us!”

“Xunzhou Gang?” Ding Li’s expression darkened. He’d heard the name—a group of laborers from Xunzhou who, united in numbers, had made their mark at the dock. Yet Ding Li and his local Guangzhou crew had never clashed with them before. Even if it was about money, why had they beaten Little Li so viciously?

“Brother Li, I know about the Xunzhou Gang!” Gouzi, catching up, chimed in, “They always bully locals. Their leader is a man called Lai Wu, in his thirties. He’s got two formidable fighters under him, known as Southern Fist and Northern Leg.”

“Right, right! It was Southern Fist who struck first!” Wang De nodded, pointing at Little Li, fear in his voice. “He punched Little Li’s eye—his fist is powerful! He smashed a wooden crate with one blow. Terrifying!”

“Don’t praise them too much. Your fists could smash crates, too!” Ding Li frowned, making Wang De shrink. Ding Li then shook his head and said coldly, “Let’s go find them and see what they want.”

Despite his words, the Xunzhou Gang’s reputation was intimidating. Ding Li had only been in this world a few months, and knew only rumors. His men, however, were visibly shaken at the prospect of confronting the Xunzhou Gang, especially Wang Huan, who trembled uncontrollably.

“Are you scared?” Ding Li handed the injured Little Li to Gouzi, noting the fear in their faces. He raised a brow, his lips curling in disdain. “They have two shoulders and one head, same as you. They’re men, aren’t you?”

Without waiting for a reply, Ding Li murmured a few words to Little Li, then strode away without hesitation.

Within moments, he heard hesitant footsteps behind him—growing in number, though still disordered. Ding Li’s face lifted, a confident smile spreading at his lips.

“It’s been so long since I’ve moved…” he thought, the smile deepening. He wasn’t referring to hauling cargo—but to fighting.

...

“Southern Fist, weren’t you afraid you’d burst that kid’s eye with your punch?” Having just snatched a job, Northern Leg, standing beside a ship, was in high spirits. Watching their fellow Xunzhou laborers toil away at the cargo, he felt a surge of pride. Unlike the others, he and Southern Fist only needed to teach lessons to troublemakers; the dirty work didn’t touch them.

“Northern Leg, don’t blame me. Didn’t you just use your leg? Aren’t you afraid you crippled that kid for months?” Southern Fist grinned, then sneered, shaking his head. “That kid? I only used thirty percent of my strength. If it were night, I’d use seventy percent and smash his head!”

“About the same!” Northern Leg shrugged, as if discussing how to slaughter a pig, his cold smile matching Southern Fist’s. “If it were night, I’d break his back with one kick. He’d never get out of bed again.”

Their careless talk ended abruptly when they turned and locked eyes, suddenly stepping back in alarm. Though the sunlight still shone, the shirtless man before them radiated a chill that seeped into their bones.

“Who wants to smash my brother’s head? Who wants to break my brother’s back?” Ding Li, not quite one meter eighty, lacked height and bulk compared to Southern Fist and Northern Leg, but his body brimmed with power, making the two feel unprecedented pressure.

“You’re Southern Fist and Northern Leg?” Ding Li’s eyes swept over the group and returned to the two wary men, his brows sharp and his voice cold.