SES Chapter 43 V2

He didn’t hear Huo Zihong’s next words:

“Someday, she might not be able to come back to this kind of life, even if she wants to.”

—

That afternoon, Uncle Zhang held interviews.

Real interviews. Ever since Yi Wansan had left on a whim, Uncle Zhang had realized how clueless he was with all those red-and-white cocktails. Cao Pangpang was enthusiastic but clueless behind the bar, like a bear knocking things over.

It was only now that he realized: Yi Wansan had been a skilled worker.

The bartender sitting in front of him now had huge dark circles under his eyes, looking perpetually unsatisfied with life. He slouched lazily in his chair—just looking at him made Uncle Zhang’s blood pressure rise.

He cleared his throat. “Where have you worked before? How many years as a bartender? Give us a little self-introduction.”

Before the man could answer, a cheerful voice interrupted: “Senior Brother!”

Uncle Zhang jumped. He thought the guy he was interviewing was Mu Dai’s senior brother—until she bounced out the door, and he realized he’d misunderstood.

Curious, he peeked out.

Mu Dai’s martial arts senior brother? He’d never met him before.

And he wasn’t the only one whose blood stirred at the words “Senior Brother”—Cao Yanhua practically vibrated.

Senior Brother! The legendary, dashing, wind-like figure beloved by all junior sisters!

He craned his neck like a giraffe. But the moment he saw the man, the smile froze on his face. It was like ice that could shatter with a tap of a hammer.

This was… Mu Dai’s senior brother?

The man looked around forty, a bit pudgy, balding, hunched over, wearing loose, wrinkled clothes. The image completely disgraced the five-thousand-year legacy of Chinese martial arts.

Mu Dai cheerfully looped her arm through his and introduced everyone: “This is Uncle Zhang, and that’s Cao Yanhua—he helps out around the bar. Senior Brother, you can call him Fatty Cao. This is my senior brother, Zheng Mingshan.”

Cao Yanhua hadn’t recovered from the shock. Then he caught sight of Zheng Mingshan’s legs and blurted out without thinking, “Senior Brother… your legs… healed up pretty well, huh. Heh…”

Crap. Why would he say that?

Mu Dai had mentioned before—Zheng’s legs had been broken by their master after he got caught stealing. For a martial artist, that had to be taboo…

Damn this big mouth! Cao Yanhua turned red, then pale.

Zheng Mingshan looked confused, glancing down at his legs. Was there a problem?

Mu Dai hurriedly pushed him into a chair. “Sit, Senior Brother, sit.”

Then she turned to Cao Yanhua and ordered, “My senior brother likes baijiu. We don’t have any here, so go buy two liang of Erguotou. And some snacks—peanuts, pig ears, anything like that.”

Baijiu? Peanuts? Pig ears? In a chic, artsy cocktail bar?

This was a bar, not a street stall!

Cao Yanhua couldn’t help saying, “Come on, little shifu, isn’t that a bit lowbrow? People drink lattes and martinis here. He’s gonna sit there sipping baijiu and chewing peanuts? And—”

He pointed stealthily at Zheng Mingshan. “What is he, a part-time construction foreman? Did he come straight from the worksite?”

Mu Dai glared at him.

“Fatty Cao, don’t judge by appearances. Let me tell you—my senior brother is amazing. He’s a retired special forces soldier. Used to be a bodyguard escorting money for the rich. He once took down six armed robbers alone.”

Cao Yanhua’s jaw dropped.

“And he runs a martial arts school. His students could drown you with their spit alone. Now go!”

Cao Yanhua zipped off.

If a disciple should serve, especially for their master’s senior brother, there was no excuse.

Mu Dai poured tea. “Senior Brother, isn’t the martial arts school busy? How come you had time to come over?”

Zheng Mingshan had started training years earlier, but after just a few years, he realized he wasn’t suited for light-body skills. With the master’s permission, he switched to a more eclectic style. These days, he taught a mix of martial arts, more like a training class than a formal discipleship.

He didn’t sugarcoat it. “What martial arts school—it’s more like a part-time training center. A few sessions a year. The rest of the time, I do my stuff. Got your call, wasn’t too far, so I dropped by.”

After a sip of tea, he got to the point. “So, what’s got you thinking about finding work?”

Mu Dai hesitated. “Well… a person’s got to make a living, right? Senior Brother, do you have any leads?”

Technically, the two had never trained under their master at the same time—Zheng Mingshan had long gone out wandering before she joined. Most of what she knew about him came from stories the master told her.

In her eyes, he was capable, well-connected. So when Uncle Zhang’s words made her realize she needed direction, he was the first person she thought of.

Even if he didn’t have any leads, a little advice would help. She was his junior, after all.

Zheng Mingshan leaned back. “I do. Depends on what kind of work you’re looking for. If you want something stable, I can get you a desk job through a friend’s company. But…”

He looked her over and chuckled. “With your skills, that’s a bit of a waste. I could bring you on as a teaching assistant at the training center. But I worry some punk kids might fall for you and chase you off.”

Mu Dai blushed.

Cao Yanhua returned with the liquor and snacks. As the drinks came out and the food was served, Zheng Mingshan patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

The pat nearly knocked Cao Yanhua flat.

Mu Dai slid the snacks closer to him. “Senior Brother, I want to get more experience, like you. I feel like, even though I’ve learned martial arts, I’m not a real expert. A real expert is…”

She rested her chin on her hand, searching for words. “Someone with presence. Someone cool, calm, who can handle anything without making a fuss…”

Zheng Mingshan understood.

The master had once said of her: “That girl always asks me, ‘Master, do I look intimidating?’ Like, she wants to scare people. Wears all black, a skull necklace, but the moment she smiles, it’s all over. She’s just a little girl…”

Mu Dai kept talking. “I just want to be that kind of person. Not the little girl everyone pulls behind them when something happens. I want people to say, ‘Don’t worry, Mu Dai can handle it.’”

This naive little sister. Zheng Mingshan smiled.

…

He seemed distracted. Mu Dai waved her hand in front of his face. “Senior Brother? You there?”

Zheng Mingshan snapped out of it. He wanted to say something, but sighed instead.

He remembered something their master once said:

—“People who’ve never been in the jianghu always romanticize adventure and danger. But they don’t realize: those who survive the jianghu, who stand tall at the end, have had their bones broken and skins peeled in the process.”

Yes. Even a simple smile can carry a thousand twists and turns.

Zheng Mingshan said, “If you want it… I might have something just right for you.”