Chapter 5: The Malatang Run and a Street Showdown

Three people were staying at my place. It felt wrong not to offer them any hospitality. We couldn’t possibly just eat that box of instant noodles from my cupboard, could we?

I watched as Dragon Brother, having used up all her dungeon fatigue, emerged from my room. She clutched her chest thoughtfully, then sat beside Old Chu. Both of them remained silent, lost in contemplation.

Sitting beside them, I found the silence a little unsettling. Since I was heading downstairs to buy some *malatang*, I decided to bring Dragon Brother along. While out, I planned to visit the pharmacy to get some medicine for her. ‘Baidu Doctor’ was hardly reliable; I dismissed the idea of lung cancer as nonsense.

More likely, she’d simply smoked too much. I intended to pick up some soothing throat lozenges for her.

I headed straight to the *malatang* shop and ordered four portions to go. The young woman who ran the shop, Zhang Hanxiu, was quite familiar with me. She hailed from Shanghai.

Last time, when there were hardly any customers, I’d eaten *malatang* alone in her shop, and we’d simply started chatting. We’d become quite acquainted since then.

She had just graduated from S University and was struggling to find a job. Her father, who was venturing into real estate, didn’t expect her to rush into employment, so he let her manage this shop herself.

The *malatang* here was delicious, but the location was poor, which meant few customers. Xiao Xiu was diligent, however, and most of her patrons were regulars. Her business was now just about breaking even.

Upon seeing me enter with a rather slovenly young woman, Xiao Xiu paused for a moment. When I told her I needed four portions to go, she covered her mouth and chuckled before heading into the kitchen to prepare the order.

“Xiao Lu, your appetite is excellent!” she called out, peeking her head around the corner. “Eat as much as you like. It would be wonderful if you put on a little more weight; it makes finding a partner so much easier.”

I led Dragon Brother to an empty table, where she fidgeted restlessly in her chair. With a frown, she scanned her surroundings like a rebellious youth.

“Who cares about weight these days?” I replied. “In this era, being plump doesn’t necessarily mean a wealthy family background. Don’t young women prefer the roguishly handsome, tall, and slender type anyway?”

Dragon Brother slammed her hand on the table. It was unclear what revelation she’d had, but she cast an approving glance my way.

“Exactly!” she exclaimed.

Xiao Xiu giggled, covering her mouth. The *malatang* needed a moment to cook. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, opened the refrigerator, and placed four glass bottles of cola on my table before joining us.

I gave her a questioning look, and she smiled.

“Since you’re such a regular, these four colas are on me this time,” she explained. “Next time you want one, though, I’ll have to charge you.”

It wasn’t easy running a small business, and four free colas were quite generous. “Thank you, Sister Xiu,” I said.

Suddenly, she playfully flicked my forehead, feigning annoyance. “Young man, you’re such a liar! You used to come in alone, eat half your *malatang*, and then waste the rest. Now you’re ordering four portions? Don’t tell me you’ve got four beautiful little sisters hidden at home!”

“How did you know?!” I gasped, utterly astonished.

Xiao Xiu froze. “You actually did?”

“No, no, no…” I quickly waved my hands.

Xiao Xiu eyed me suspiciously for a moment, then sighed as new customers entered the shop. She returned to the kitchen, emerging shortly with four plastic bags, which she handed to me.

I called out to Dragon Brother, then stood up, ready to leave. Xiao Xiu wiped a fine bead of sweat from her forehead.

“Do come again whenever you have time,” she said.

I nodded and stepped out.

“Remember to bring back the glass bottles!” Xiao Xiu shouted from behind me.

I carried the four bags and took Dragon Brother to a nearby pharmacy. It was a hybrid establishment, half Western, half traditional Chinese medicine. Inside, glass counters displayed a variety of Western medicines, and behind them stood an elderly Chinese medicine doctor with spectacles and streaks of gray in his hair.

The old doctor first examined Dragon Brother’s throat with a tongue depressor, informing me it was slightly inflamed. He prescribed some anti-inflammatory medication for her. I painstakingly rummaged for loose change, then bought a box of throat lozenges as well. I tossed both boxes of medicine into a black plastic bag and began walking home.

The pharmacy was diagonally across from an internet cafe where Dragon Brother had once worked as a manager.

As we passed by, we saw seven or eight young men with brightly colored hair. The leader, a blonde, leaned against the wall on one foot, casually scrolling on his phone. Every one of them had a collapsible baton tucked into their pockets, ostentatiously revealing the hilt. Half of the group squatted idly on the ground, smoking.

We happened to walk right past them. Half of the squatting men watched us with an air of composure. Dragon Brother stared at them curiously, but I averted my gaze, wary of stirring up trouble. Gradually, those squatting stopped smoking, their eyes tracking Dragon Brother’s movements.

A knot of anxiety tightened in my chest, and I pulled Dragon Brother along, quickening our pace.

At that moment, a black-haired young man with a face full of acne stood up, swaying slightly, clearly having squatted for a long time. With a bitter expression, he obsequiously approached the blonde leader, offering him a cigarette. He chuckled, his voice humble.

“Brother Feng, let’s stop waiting,” he said. “Little White Dragon must be scared of you! We’ve been here for two days already. We asked the internet cafe owner, and he said Little White Dragon quit ages ago. Why are we still waiting around?”

My heart sank. I quickly glanced at Dragon Brother beside me. She still looked like a curious delinquent, though hearing the name ‘Little White Dragon’ made her turn her head for a moment. The squatting men all looked at her again.

Dragon Brother, however, shifted her gaze, seemingly finding them less handsome than her former self, and began to idly stare at the street signs.

I was genuinely afraid she would suddenly yell, “f*ck you! The Pearl River Little White Dragon is here!” and then launch a powerful kick. Regardless of who won or lost — though I conservatively estimated Dragon Brother would win — the medical expenses would undoubtedly fall on me.

Dragon Brother was perpetually broke, often needing two days to save up for a pack of Hongjinlong cigarettes.

Behind me, I heard the blonde man calmly chastising Pimple Face, spewing obscenities.

“Look at you, getting all f*cking worked up!” he snarled. “Old Rooster said Little White Dragon often hangs out at this internet cafe when he has nothing else to do. We’ll get word in two or three days. Then we’ll stab that bastard, put him in the hospital for half a month, and make him behave himself when he gets out. Make him a decent person, so he stops causing trouble for Young Master Feng and the others!”

I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a wave of relief. We had almost been caught by those bastards.

Fortunately, Dragon Brother had suddenly changed gender overnight, allowing her to narrowly escape this predicament. Dragon Brother had become a woman, and though I never voiced it, I always felt this was an immense stroke of good fortune.

She was almost twenty this year, the same age as me, fresh out of high school. For anyone else, such a sudden gender change would likely be an unmitigated disaster.

Yet, Dragon Brother only had a middle school education and was destined to be an internet cafe manager her entire life. Her qualifications probably wouldn’t even suffice for shining shoes.

Now, having become a girl, she could embark on a new life, far from these societal thugs who reveled in stabbing people. Perhaps she might even snag a wealthy husband, ensuring she’d never have to worry about food or clothes again…

As I pondered this, the five plastic bags felt awkward in my hand. I switched them to the other, then turned to find Dragon Brother gone! Panic seized me, and I whirled around, my heart leaping into my throat.

There she was, sauntering nonchalantly straight towards the group of seven or eight punks.

Before I could even react, Dragon Brother had casually approached them. The three or four punks who had been squatting on the ground had been watching her for a while, and now they all looked up at her strangely, like a row of toads gazing at the stars.

Dragon Brother observed them for a moment, then extended her hand.

“Got a cigarette?” she asked.

The row of ‘toads’ exchanged bewildered glances. Just as one of the brightly colored punks was about to speak, Dragon Brother, without a shred of politeness, snatched the freshly lit cigarette from his hand. The group immediately erupted in shouts, and the standing members quickly encircled her.

The blonde leader frowned, his hand instinctively reaching for the collapsible baton in his pocket, then slowly sauntered closer.

A younger punk nearby, clearly confused, asked his companion, “Who is she?”

I scrambled over, practically tripping in my haste, bowing and apologizing profusely to each of them. I wrapped my arm around Dragon Brother’s, trying to pull her away.

“My apologies, gentlemen, my apologies! This is my little sister; she’s had some mental issues since childhood. Thankfully, she took her medicine today, otherwise, she’d be drooling all over you, and that’s not easy to wash off. Please, make way…”

The row of ‘toads’ noticed the two small, rectangular boxes in my black plastic bag, which appeared to be medicine boxes. They looked a bit bewildered, half-believing my story. Coincidentally, they were all dressed in fake designer brands, and upon hearing that Dragon Brother might drool, they collectively hopped backward in unison.

I struggled to maintain a straight face. “Let’s go home, little sister,” I said, forcing a benevolent expression. “Don’t make a fuss. We have your favorite breakfast milk waiting for you…”

One of the younger punks, seemingly knowledgeable, chimed in. “You should take her to the hospital immediately! If it’s pathological, get a CT scan to check for a tumor in her brain. No tumor is good; a tumor is hard to treat.”

I bowed repeatedly, like a junior employee in a Japanese drama. “Thank you, big brother, thank you all. I’ll take her to the hospital in a couple of days. Dragon… little sister, let’s go home. Mom will be angry soon, and then she won’t take you to see the *Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf* movie…”

One of the punks, looking uncertain, suddenly exclaimed, “Look at her! Doesn’t she look a bit like Little White Dragon?”

My heart lurched. At his words, the entire group craned their necks, their expressions a mixture of surprise and suspicion, as they stared intently at Dragon Brother’s face.

Dragon Brother stood there nonchalantly, inspecting each of their faces as if a gang boss surveying his underlings.

She remained perfectly still; I couldn’t budge her. In desperation, I cried out, “Little sister, Big Big Wolf is going to catch you!”

Dragon Brother casually dragged me along, approaching the blonde leader. She stood a head shorter than him, yet her demeanor, as she coolly puffed on the snatched Furongwang cigarette, was no less imposing.

I was practically hopping with anxiety beside her. Dragon Brother, however, merely smiled.

“Did Old Rooster send you to ambush me?” she asked.

The group of ‘kill-mats’ froze in unison. Seeing the smile on Dragon Brother’s face, they immediately reached for the collapsible batons at their waists.

One of the kill-mats asked, “You know Little White Dragon?”

Dragon Brother chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. “Know him? I even touched his ‘little white dragon’ yesterday.”

The kill-mats all stared at Dragon Brother. One of the ‘toads’ looked at her, seemingly about to hurl a challenge, but then his mouth closed as if a painful memory had resurfaced, and he swallowed his words.

Dragon Brother remained in place, a cigarette dangling from her lips, chuckling softly.

‘Don’t bother,’ I thought. ‘Dragon Brother’s woman is here alone, gathering intel and issuing a challenge.’

A stampede of mythical beasts charged through my mind. I gave up trying to pull Dragon Brother away, tossing all five plastic bags onto the ground and frantically searching for a brick.

A younger ‘toad,’ still oblivious, grinned widely.

“Hey, this crazy chick says she knows Old Rooster! And she knows Little White Dragon too!”

I didn’t know whether he was an ‘iron rooster’ or an ‘old hen’, but I vaguely recalled Dragon Brother mentioning him before, perhaps as a childhood friend.

At that moment, the young man with the acne-covered face stepped forward. His hair was a mess. He stumbled dazedly straight towards Dragon Brother—he was at least a head taller than her, looking down at her, face to face.

This guy was a bit of a stranger to me, probably hadn’t seen Dragon Brother before. He must have wondered why these big shot ‘gangsters’ were so afraid of a mere woman.

He stared at Dragon Brother for a long moment, then raised his hand and delivered a resounding slap to her face.

The air instantly froze. The attack was so sudden that even I was stunned, and the blonde leader froze as well. His mouth hung open for a long moment, and several of the punks instinctively took a step back.

Today’s situation was clearly beyond peaceful resolution. I had already found a brick and was striding directly towards Pimple Face.

Pimple Face likely felt emboldened by the sheer number of his companions and their well-equipped state. Coupled with the fruitless two-day wait, he probably considered Little White Dragon a coward who would send a pretty, curvaceous girl to lead the charge, which clearly unbalanced him.

He eyed the stunned crowd suspiciously, then unleashed a barrage of questions at Dragon Brother. “Didn’t your rotten mother tell you? Don’t you dare sleep with someone who has an STD? Didn’t your blind mother teach you? Didn’t she?!”

Dragon Brother touched the spittle on her face, the slap seemingly not affecting her at all. She chuckled. “My blind mother died after she gave birth to me. My dog-father raised me from childhood. Old Lu, throw away that brick. It’s too dirty.” The last sentence was directed at me.

Pimple Face turned at my words, seeing me approach him with a brick. He let out a pretentious scoff, pulled the collapsible baton from his pocket, and strode towards me.

I walked towards him, my steps gradually quickening. Just as I was wondering whether to smash his skull or his groin, he lunged at me, swinging his arm in a wide arc. The blunt-headed baton whistled through the air, aimed directly at my head.

I didn’t even have time to dodge.

Suddenly, a worn-out sneaker with a hole in it slammed into his acne-covered cheek. The kick instantly burst several of his underdeveloped pimples.

Pimple Face only managed a muffled grunt, his head spinning in a circle around his neck as an axis. The baton flew from his hand, and he himself was sent flying more than two meters, landing hard on his right arm.

The move stunned me completely, leaving me standing rooted to the spot, brick in hand.

As soon as Pimple Face got up, he clutched his bloody face, howling loudly. His right arm dangled uselessly at his side, likely broken.

Dragon Brother looked at the airborne Pimple Face. The group of men remained silent, their eyes wide, almost bulging from their sockets.

The air was eerily quiet, save for the wails of the acne-faced man. Dragon Brother looked at the line of men.

“Who wants to stab Little White Dragon?” she asked.

By now, onlookers had started to gather, forming a bustling circle about twenty meters in diameter. Not a single person called the police; they were all taking photos and videos with their phones.

Seeing the crowd grow, the blonde leader lost his composure. “Goddamn it, don’t you dare push us too far! All of you, attack!” he roared.

As he spoke, the blonde leader pulled a gleaming knife from behind his waist. The onlookers gasped in alarm. Several kill-mats also drew their collapsible batons and charged at Dragon Brother in unison.

I gasped in shock, quickly picking up my brick. I roared a curse at them—today, only Heaven knew if we would live or die.

Before I could even reach them, some bastard I hadn’t noticed swung a baton from the side, striking me on the forehead. Stars burst before my eyes, and I felt a warm trickle flowing down my brow. My vision immediately blurred.

Enraged, I let out a furious roar, swinging my brick wildly like a Sword Master performing a Phantom Sword Dance. I heard two punks groan in pain, one after another. Seizing the opportunity, I retreated from the fray, my clothes disheveled, pretending to glare angrily while secretly recovering my composure.

Dragon Brother turned her head, seeing the baton mark on my forehead. She squinted, as if disbelieving, and then, seeing the blood, she whirled around.

She looked at the charging crowd, her eyes shining like two cold stars in the night.

The blonde leader yelled furiously, slashing his knife at Dragon Brother’s other eye, the one without a scar—clearly intending to disfigure her!

I was too far from Dragon Brother to do anything but roar. Dragon Brother, having finally finished her Furongwang cigarette, coolly flicked the butt into his eye. The blonde leader let out a cry of pain, instinctively raising his hand to shield his head.

Dragon Brother then leaped half a meter into the air, delivering a powerful kick to his chest with a resounding thud. The blonde leader flew backward several meters, then landed on his back at the edge of the human circle, all fours splayed. The crowd immediately recoiled with a collective gasp.

Judging by the force, that kick probably wouldn’t break any ribs. But the blonde leader was cunning; perhaps realizing he wouldn’t gain anything by fighting further, he simply sat on the ground like Pimple Face, disheveled and wailing melodramatically like Zhang Jiao, clutching his chest.

Having been blindsided by a sneak attack, I was still fuming. Seeing him feign pain like a toothache, I suppressed my inner rage and crept stealthily behind him. I initially wanted to smash the brick into the back of his head, but fearing serious consequences, I simply raised the rectangular brick and suddenly roared, “Behold my magic treasure!!!”

Anyone with a weak heart would likely have collapsed from that scare. He, at least, jolted as if electrocuted.

He whipped his head around, and I promptly brought the brick down on his face. This time, his grunt was decisive; he immediately rolled his eyes and collapsed to the ground.

Seeing this, Pimple Face immediately threw his hands up, wailing like a pig being slaughtered, constantly shielding his face up and down, like a young girl about to be… well, you get the idea.

I casually wiped the blood from my forehead, tiredly standing beside him, examining the brick. He cowered, blindly fumbling up, down, left, and right, like a turtle retracting its head. I wasn’t in a hurry; I simply held the brick in one hand and waited.

Half a minute later, he lifted his head and secretly peeked at me with small eyes. Seeing this, I slammed the brick onto his crown. Pimple Face also fell silently to the ground. These two brothers were remarkably harmonious, lying side-by-side, rolling their eyes in unison—a true brotherhood.

Dragon Brother had also settled her side of the fight. She was now scratching her backside in a most unladylike manner, grinning at me. She must have witnessed me waiting for Pimple Face with the brick.

Lying on the ground was a group of brightly colored kill-mats, all having been baptized by Dragon Brother’s dental-smashing kicks and ‘White Dragon Face-Breaking Punches’. They were all groaning, blood trickling from their mouths, some even spitting bloody saliva—it was a frightening sight, but the ‘blood-spitting’ mostly meant a lost tooth and some gum bleeding. Besides Pimple Face, most of them weren’t seriously injured.

The onlookers were quite simple-minded; not a single person called the police. Some held their phones high, while others even spontaneously applauded. I even heard someone, clearly enjoying the spectacle, shout, “Kick his balls off! Let’s see how he’ll be a man after that!”

Hearing such a vengeful cry, I scanned the crowd with my brick. But my blood-streaked forehead must have been intimidating, for as I glanced, a head quickly ducked back into the sea of people.

The four portions of *malatang* I had bought earlier had been trampled during the fight, their soup spilled all over the ground.

I threw the brick down, squatting with a pang of regret—nearly thirty yuan worth of food, gone.

The two boxes of throat lozenges I bought, though flattened, were vacuum-sealed, so they were fine despite being dirty. I picked them up, checked them, and tucked them into my pocket.

Dragon Brother casually turned around. A lying ‘toad’ tripped her, and she spat directly onto the ground. I saw the crowd growing, and the situation seemed dire. Although most were recording with their phones, some were holding phones, speaking softly with lowered gazes.

‘Someone calling the police won’t do,’ I thought. If the police arrived, Dragon Brother and I would face disciplinary action and fines, and the medical expenses for this whole pile of ‘toads’ might even be charged to me.

Behind us, the bloodied ‘toad’ screamed hysterically, “You’re all fucked! I remember your faces! Don’t you dare leave your homes again!”

I sighed inwardly, grabbed Dragon Brother, and pushed a path through the crowd, heading straight for home.