𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍 — 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈

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𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐧𝐮𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭

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In the winter of 1997, the dark underbelly of Guangzhou saw a rare snowfall. When the first snow

descended over the city, the night was ripe with stars

and the hidden roads were crawling with thieves and

rouges. Beneath the icy haze, the impoverished alleys

were still dressed in graffiti and crowded with old

ments for every service imaginable—some

illegal and others that ought to be.

⠀

From between the dimly lit alley walls, a young man

shuffled out into the pale vermillion light of an old

street vendor cart selling warm, roasted chestnuts and

pork skewers.

⠀

“Xiao Ye!”

⠀

The young man, Ye Wu Shang, froze when he heard a voice call out to him. There, at the food cart, was a

familiar face.

⠀

“Lao Wang! Isn’t it too cold to be selling tonight?” Wu

Shang chuckled, his voice shaking as frigid air snuck

in through the smallest openings of his padded jacket,

stealing away his warmth.

⠀

While winter’s veil continued to fall over the city, the

steady heat emanating from the food cart was both

welcoming and constant. So, Wu Shang hobbled over

to the vendor—an older man who was affectionately

known as Chestnut Wang by the locals. Shivering, Wu

Shang took refuge by the cart, basking in the strange

aroma of both chestnuts and pork.

⠀

“Too hot or too cold, we still need the money,” Lao Wang

chuckled. “Can I pack you a bag of roasted chestnuts?

Xiao Su likes them, doesn’t she?”

⠀

“She does- just pack me one bag. I was thinking of

getting her a treat before going home anyway, it might

lift her spirits.” Wu Shang sighed, his breath rolling in

the cold air as his mind drifted to the image of his wife, Su Ying Ruo.

⠀

In the earliest days of December, Wu Shang and Ying

Rou welcomed their newborn son, Ye Ming An. With

Ming An came a special winter and an abundance of

joy, but it was all short-lived and quickly overcome

by a great misfortune. All the locals had heard about

it, including Lao Wang, though the old man had been

polite enough to not bring it up. Until now.

⠀

“How are things at home?” Lao Wang’s hushed voice

jarred Wu Shang from his trance. He almost didn’t hear

the question over the wailing winds, but this was how

most people approached his family’s situation, as if it

were too pitiful to let the earth hear. The innocence of

the inquiry was masking what everyone already knew—the Ye family was close to losing everything.

⠀

Though the inhabitants of Guangzhou had endured

the ravages of time and the static economy, no one

in the area had yet to win their wrestle with poverty.

Still, at the very least, they had a roof over their heads

and food on the table. Up until a few weeks before

Ming An’s birth, the Ye family had withstood their

shortcomings in the same way. However, their simple

life took a turn for the worst when Wu Shang suffered

an unexpected injury that rendered his right leg weak

and nearly paralyzed. Trapped with a lifetime of pain

and a persistent limp, he was faced with a cruel

reality that offered him nothing but guilt and shame—he could no longer his young family.

⠀

“Well, it would be better if I could work. No one wants

to hire a crippled man, but who can blame them?” Wu

Shang smiled; eyes glazed with pain as a frustrated fist

came down on his bad leg. He struck his thigh a few

times, but it was numb to the sensation.

⠀

With a knowing hum, Lao Wang handed Wu Shang a

brown paper bag filled generously with warm roasted

chestnuts. The old man’s face was downcast, pity and

sorrow weighed down his shoulders, and Wu Shang could only feel sorry for the discomfort he was causing.

Yet, as he collected the bag of chestnuts, he noticed his

friend’s expression twisting with hesitation; before

he could inquire about this, Lao Wang spoke.

⠀

“Xiao Ye, I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but

maybe it will help you. The choice is yours, but...” Lao

Wang trailed off, his gaze shifting anxiously as if he

was contemplating one poison over the other.

⠀

“But what?” Wu Shang echoed, stuffing the bag of

chestnuts into his jacket to keep them warm for his wife, while cautiously staring at his old friend.

Moments ed and Wu Shang's caution gradually

blossomed into realization. “You have a job for me.”

⠀

“It’s dangerous.” Lao Wang shook his head, regret

washing over his weather-beaten face. He should have never opened his mouth.

⠀

There was a long silence between the two men which

was broken only by the occasional winter gusts and

the eerie creaking of loose metal. The city breathed

around them, still alive with crime and pulsing with

secrets and untold stories. Wu Shang did not move or

speak, too afraid that the hope dangling in front of him

would disappear if he breathed. Seeing this, Lao Wang

let out a defeated sigh and gave in, understanding that

the young man’s stillness was a cry for help. A spirit

of desperation. Stubbornness. Resilience.

⠀

“A cousin of mine knows some people, they’re looking

for a local with a clean record,” Lao Wang paused, "it

seems like they’re in the drug business with Four

Heavens.”

⠀

“Four Heavens? That’s a…” Wu Shang didn’t have the

courage to finish his thought. Four Heavens was an

elusive triad that had become active in the northern

regions of Guangzhou over the last few years. Most people feared them and the locals always did their

best to avoid the triad —turning a blind eye

to their criminality and burying the stories of their

violence in gossip.

⠀

“You don’t have to take it. I was just saying…” Lao Wang

leaned in closer, silently hoping that the anticipation of

danger would deter the young man, but the eyes that

stared back at him told a different story. So, Lao Wang

quickly came to the realization that reasoning with his

friend would be in vain. Wu Shang would do anything for his family.

⠀

“That cousin of yours, where can I find him?” Wu Shang

asked, his coffee brown eyes blazing with unbridled

determination. His mind was made.

⠀

Lao Wang couldn’t bring himself to answer but, instead,

grabbed an old piece of paper and a pen. His frail hands

shook, in part from the winter chill, but mostly from

the fear that had settled deep in his heart.

⠀

Had he pushed this young man into the beginnings of a tragedy? Only time would tell.

⠀

Though the future was uncertain, Lao Wang knew one thing was true—that night, he had sent Wu Shang staggering home with a warm bag of roasted chestnuts, an address scribbled on grease-stained paper, and the promise of a better future.

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𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈: 𝐀 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

COMING SOON

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