Fists can't cross Tianjin

Chapter 34 Testing the Waters

Dali Road.

This is one of the famous "Five Avenues" of Tianjin. The road is lined with tall plane trees. Although it is winter and the leaves have all fallen, the gnarled branches still exude a sense of vicissitude.

The houses here are all small Western-style buildings. There are English, French, and Italian styles, and each one has its own story and significance.

Chen Zhuo, wrapped in a tattered cotton-padded coat, looked somewhat out of place walking on the clean and tidy asphalt road.

The people passing by were either cadres dressed in neat Zhongshan suits or respectable people riding Phoenix brand bicycles. Occasionally, a police car would patrol by, and people would slow down and give them a second look.

This is truly the "upper-class area".

Once he arrived here, he naturally didn't need to worry about Hua Mao or Er Ga Zi. Even the joint defense teams connected to them wouldn't dare to stop him on the way. Because they would never expect that he would suddenly find himself in this place known for its wealthy and powerful people, the Five Avenues.

"Hey! Um! What's up?"

Just as I reached the vicinity of Minyuan Stadium, a sharp shout came from the side.

Chen Zhuo paused in his steps.

Two middle-aged women wearing armbands were standing at the intersection, watching him warily. Next to them was a bicycle with a sign that read "Public Security" hanging on the handlebars.

It belongs to the local security committee.

These days, these middle-aged women have sharper eyes than radar, specifically targeting unfamiliar faces. Especially "vagrants" like Chen Zhuo, who are dressed in rags and act suspiciously.

"Auntie, I..." Chen Zhuo's face instantly broke into a simple and honest smile, his back slightly bent.

"Who's calling me 'auntie'! Call me 'comrade'!" The leading woman looked stern as she sized Chen Zhuo up and down. "You don't look like you're from around here. Which unit are you from? Do you have a letter of introduction? What are you doing wandering around here so early in the morning?"

"Comrade, I'm here to find someone."

Chen Zhuo pulled out the note the butcher had given him from his pocket, showing only a corner of it, and made a mysterious gesture.

"I'm going to...the commander's house to deliver something."

He lowered his voice and pointed in the direction of Dali Road.

"The leader?" The two middle-aged women exchanged a glance, their expressions softening slightly, but they were still somewhat suspicious. "Which leader? There are plenty of vagrants posing as government officials these days."

"No. 53 Dali Road, Mr. Zeng," Chen Zhuo said, his tone becoming firmer, as if he had gained confidence. "This matter is quite urgent. If it's delayed... what do you two think?"

Upon hearing the name "Old Zeng," the two middle-aged women's expressions visibly changed.

Every elderly person living in this area knows that a very important person lives in that red brick building. Although he has retired, during holidays, cars from the city line up to drive there.

"Alright, alright, since we're going to see Elder Zeng, let's go quickly."

The leading middle-aged woman waved her hand, as if shooing away flies, "Stop wandering around on the street, watch your appearance! Look at all this dirt..."

"Yes, yes, thank you, comrade."

Chen Zhuo felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He quickly put the note away and left.

After turning the corner, before I had gone far, a patrol team of police officers on bicycles came towards me.

They wore white tops and blue bottoms, with bright red collar insignia, and armed belts around their waists, their expressions serious.

The lead police officer spotted Chen Zhuo, squeezed the brakes, and slowed down. His eyes, like searchlights, swept over Chen Zhuo.

Chen Zhuo's heart tightened, but he didn't stop. He just bowed slightly to make way, but his eyes met hers with neither humility nor arrogance. At the same time, he subtly pointed to the gate of No. 53 Courtyard not far ahead.

The policeman glanced at the red brick building following his gesture, his wariness lessening somewhat. He then got back on his bike and led the group past.

Chen Zhuo secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

As he turned the corner, he realized that his back was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

That is power.

Just the name of the place allowed him to move freely in this heavily guarded area.

After the joint defense team left, as Chen Zhuo turned to walk forward, he could feel that countless eyes were watching him from the seemingly quiet villas around him.

A fleeting figure behind the curtains on the second floor of a building, an elderly person suddenly stopping watering flowers in the courtyard diagonally opposite, and even the scrutinizing gaze of a gardener pruning branches by the roadside.

In this rigidly hierarchical place, he, the intruder, was like a drop of water falling into a frying pan, appearing so abrupt.

He held the note in his hand and finally stood in front of the red brick building.

That's number 53.

This building is in typical English style, with red brick walls, a pointed roof, and a beautiful dormer window. The courtyard wall is very high, topped with barbed wire. The two large black doors are tightly closed, exuding a cold indifference that keeps people at a distance.

There was no sign at the entrance, only a faded house number.

Chen Zhuo walked to the door, took a deep breath, and reached out to tap the pair of lion-head bronze rings.

"Clang, clang, clang."

The crisp sound of the impact carried far into the stillness of the early morning.

After a while, the small window in the door was opened. A pair of wary eyes appeared, sizing Chen Zhuo up and down.

"What are you doing?"

The voice belonged to a middle-aged man, and it carried a hint of impatience.

"I'm here... to look for a job." Chen Zhuo tried to make his voice sound as honest as possible. "Someone introduced me to this place."

"Looking for a job?" The eyes inside narrowed, their gaze falling on Chen Zhuo's tattered clothes. "Go away! This is a private residence, we don't hire! Go beg elsewhere!"

As he spoke, he was about to close the window.

"I was introduced by Master Xie!" Chen Zhuo hurriedly shouted, handing over the crumpled cigarette box paper in his hand. "This is his note."

"Third Master Xie?"

The person inside the door paused, startled. He took the note and examined it by the light.

There was only one line of hastily written words on it, and a lingering smell of lard.

The middle-aged man held the two corners of the paper, his brows furrowed like the Chinese character "川" (river).

"Wait."

The window is closed.

Chen Zhuo stood in the cold wind and rubbed his hands together.

A faint smell of coal smoke filled the air, the kind of smell only you get from burning high-quality smokeless coal, mixed with a faint hint of winter plum blossom fragrance.

This smell is completely different from the stench of urine and cheap tobacco that permeates the courtyards and shantytowns.

This is the taste of wealth and luxury.

He could sense that there were quite a few eyes watching him from within this seemingly peaceful little villa. From the moment he stood at the door, at least three pairs of eyes had been fixed on him.

One was behind the second-floor window, another was in the side gatehouse, and yet another... seemed to be deep within the courtyard.

That's the keen intuition unique to those who practice martial arts year-round.

It seems the butcher was right; the Zeng family's influence is indeed deep.

About five minutes later.

"Squeak—"

The heavy, black lacquered door slowly opened a crack.

A middle-aged man dressed in a gray Zhongshan suit, with his hair neatly combed, came out. He still held the piece of paper that smelled of lard in his hand, staring sharply at Chen Zhuo as if he were scrutinizing a prisoner.

"You're the one Third Master Xie introduced?" the middle-aged man asked, his tone calm but carrying an air of condescending authority.

"Yes." Chen Zhuo nodded.

"What's your name?"

"Chen Zhuo".

"Where are you from?"

"Local."

"What did you do before?"

"A tricycle driver."

The middle-aged man frowned slightly, clearly dissatisfied with this background. But after glancing at the note in his hand, he patiently asked, "Third Master Xie said you have potential. Do you know the rules?"

"I understand a little." Chen Zhuo bowed slightly. "Speak less, do more."

A hint of satisfaction finally appeared on the middle-aged man's serious face.

"Come in with me."

He stepped aside to make way.

Chen Zhuo stepped through the gate.