It was only because her son was in the ICU at the moment that Madam Qian could find time to leave the hospital and she had to rush back soon. The patient's condition was not stable, something might happen during the night.

She was too old now. Taking care of an invalid on the verge of death, she didn't have any energy to spare to think of ways to find out how her three disciples were doing. She could only take care of things on this end first.

The ICU entrance was just like the train station during New Year's in the old days. The floor was full of people lying on sleeping mats. The spot in the corner with a small quilt was Madam Qian's. The quilt was patterned in alternating reds and pinks; she had made it herself the year she got married.

A few family members of a patient were talking softly at the side. Perhaps they were discussing the matter of hospital fees—halfway through, they became a little agitated. A passing nurse warned them and they dispersed to seethe on their own. They broke into a few groups, as clearly separated as the clear waters of the Jing River and the muddy waters of the Wei River were, and went out to smoke.

There was also someone on the phone. They sat on the floor, their back to the wall, speaking in a whisper. Listening to them, it seemed like it was also about a terminal patient.

A bigger number of people had decided to stay the night and were already lying down. They were just lying down—other than wandering vagrants, few people could sleep soundly in a place like this. There were some who tossed and turned, some who faced the wall unmoving, some who curled under their coats and tapped on their phones non-stop. When they were tired of lying down, they would sit up for a while.

In this place, there was no one crying, and there was also nothing about the sanctity or the meaning of life.

Everyone looked very tired.

When she lay down, Madam Qian thought. Again, his life was saved.

As she listened, she felt that the voice in her heart was neither rejoicing nor thankful. She didn't dare think too much so she turned over and hugged the cloth bag she carried everywhere with her close to her chest. Inside was 20,000 in cash that Sect Leader Yang had just withdrawn for her.

After sending off Madam Qian, Sect Leader Yang gripped his walking stick and slowly walked back from the ATM at the intersection. Yu Lanchuan accompanied him at his side. His eyes lowered, he spoke calmly. "Grandpa, I still need to work tomorrow. After sending you home, I will be leaving."

Old Master Yang looked at him.

Yu Lanchuan's elegant side profile seemed to have been put together by an assembly line. It was stamped with the expression of a high level white collar worker—the left side of his face said "I'm in a rush," the right side said "I'm not interested," and his forehead said "Oh."

"They need the victim's statement of forgiveness. I can give that, it's not a problem," Yu Lanchuan said. "If they need my help, I can provide the contact details of a few friends who work for fundraising platforms. They can help to start a fundraising project. When the project is live, I can also help to spread the word and verify that the fundraiser is legitimate."

Old Master Yang had never heard of these new-fangled things. At New Year's this year, this old man had just learned how to send red packets. His family taught him three times while he forgot four times, nearly making his granddaughter want to hang herself in frustration. Hence, he asked quickly, "Such a thing is possible? How much can it raise?"

Yu Lanchuan avoided the main question. "As long as they are people who donate, we can gather the money."

As for whether or not there would be people donating, Yu Lanchuan was not optimistic. Everyone had seen this a hundred times. Nowadays, if one went online and searched the names of welfare organisations, the related questions below would always have something like "Is XX reliable? Are they scammers?"

"Dream on, no one will donate." Someone suddenly interjected from the side. Both of them looked up and saw Yang Yifan climb out of her car. She was waving to the substitute driver and it was immediately obvious that she had been drinking at a social event. She tottered over and slung an arm over Old Master Yang's shoulders with no regards for manners. "This story is as boring as it can be. A middle-aged man has no money for medical treatment and his life is in danger—where's the twist? Middle-aged men whose lives are in danger are everywhere in the world, Grandpa! What does he have to attract attention?"

Old Master Yang was so assaulted by the smell of her perfume he was sneezing. He shrugged his shoulders, shaking her off. "Stand properly. You're like a useless bum, is that any way to behave!"

"Grandpa, the present is not like the past." Yang Yifan didn't care for his words. Right before the old man, she dangled a cigarette from her mouth. "Have you never heard of this line? 'If you're poor, keep to yourself; if you're rich, buy bags and watches.' Let the government's public welfare services handle other people's problems. Since I've paid my taxes, I've already fulfilled my obligations to the public. It means that I have already indirectly helped them! If they still have difficulties, there's nothing I can do. I can only say that there's not enough social welfare to go around and there are people who need it even more ahead of them in the line. I ask you, isn't that how it works?"

Old Master Yang said, "G-G-Get lost… Get lost! You don't care at all and you're even being sarcastic. Go back and sober up!"

Yang Yifan laughed. She stuck her hands in her pockets, blew out a puff of smoke and walked away.

Since Yu Lanchuan was not that close to Old Master Yang, he couldn't be as frank as his granddaughter and could only use his facial expression and body language to express his agreement with Miss Yang's words. He politely took his leave from Old Master Yang. "I will be going to the tenth floor to see if there are any utility bills that I need to pay. I will be leaving now."

For the young people of the current generation, "Take care of your own matters and don't cause trouble for other people" was the highest benchmark for a person's self-discipline and morals. In comparison, the older generation's "Uphold justice and honour, what is mine is yours" worldview was simply the poisonous remnants of feudalism.

Old Yang held on to his walking stick and stood in the garden. He looked up and saw the waxing moon, and knew that it was nearly the fifteenth of the month. This month, the fifteenth was the day of the Ghost Festival. Half a month earlier, the neighbourhood committee had put up notices with the reminder, "Make offerings in a civilised manner; burning paper money is prohibited." Even the dead had to be "civilised" now!

He felt that he had grown old. The jianghu also had one foot in the grave, its spirit giving out.

Yu Lanchuan tidied up Granduncle's home. The last time he left the place, he had forgotten to close the windows and there was a layer of dust in the house. He planned to wait until the next weekend and get an hourly worker to come, and to have the place cleaned once a month in the future. His mind elsewhere, he closed and locked the door. Yu Lanchuan still hadn't decided what he wanted to do with this apartment.

As he passed the neighbouring apartment, his footsteps paused. He thought of the mysterious Gan Qing.

He looked at the door plate for 1003 with a rather complicated expression and thought, Is she that person?

Suddenly, the door to 1003 opened from the inside. Before Yu Lanchuan could regain his wits, Gan Qing poked her head out. "What's the matter?"

Yu Lanchuan's eyes flickered. "...Just passing by."

With that, he raised his legs to walk away but Gan Qing suddenly called out to him. "Hey, wait a minute."

Yu Lanchuan's heart skipped a beat for no reason. He turned his head around and saw Gan Qing fumbling in her pocket for a long while before fishing out a roll of crumpled bills. She picked out the ones worth 20 yuan and above, smoothed them out and passed them to him. "Please help me pass it to those people's shiniang. It's not convenient for me to show my face. I don't have much money either, just take it as buying a meal for the old madam."

Yu Lanchuan raised an eyebrow.

"If it wasn't because I wanted to save a few yuan and insisted on taking the Ordinary bus, I might have reached earlier. Five minutes earlier and the matter might not have ended in this way." With an open and calm miserly air, Gan Qing rubbed the remaining notes rather apologetically. "The main point is… when I see a bus with the word 'Rapid' in front, I can't lift my legs. It's a conditioned reflex. I didn't do it on purpose."

Yu Lanchuan accepted the small stack of spare change. "Didn't you say that three yuan was your entire fortune?"

"Yeah," Gan Qing said frankly. "But didn't you already know that I was lying?"

How could he be so naive and cute, and actually believe her?

Yu Lanchuan, "..."

She definitely was not!

After he returned home, Yu Lanchuan did as he said he would. First, he discussed with Liu Zhongqi and came up with a statement of forgiveness. Then, he contacted his acquaintance and started a "Major Illness Fundraiser" online for the Madam Qian. Thus, he was done with the matter.

After such a scary experience, the troublemaking younger brother finally became well-behaved. Once school started, he was tied down. Every day, when Yu Lanchuan was done with overtime, he still had not finished his homework, so he finally no longer had the time to go out and cause trouble. As for Yu Lanchuan's work, the few items that were previously hanging undecided all had a rough outcome and the source of his stress reduced by quite a bit, letting him relax a little. Before he got off work on Friday, he announced to his department "You don't need to come to the office during the weekend if there isn't anything" and the office rejoiced like it was New Year's.

As for Madam Qian's fundraising project, as expected, no one paid it any heed.

The wealthy granddaughter only knew to "buy bags and watches," and didn't contribute a cent. Old Master Yang had no choice but to look for a few of his old friends. All of them counted their retirement money and gathered more than 10,000. What was surprising was that Liu Zhongqi actually took his allowance and the daily rewards from his red packet dispenser brother, and gathered more than 2,000 yuan, planning to give it to Madam Qian. Yu Lanchuan's quarterly bonus had just been paid out and he had the money to buy glasses now. Hence, he added some money to his younger brother's and gathered a round sum of 10,000 to send over as a token of his sentiments.

Other than that, Gan Qing had given a stack of small notes. There were also a few subordinates in Yu Lanchuan's department who saw the link he reposted in his WeChat Moments. Each person who clicked on it donated three to five hundred, using money from their fund dedicated to bootlicking.

After that, no one showed any interest.

This amount of money seemed like a lot, but it was nothing but a cup of water on a cartful of burning firewood. Putting aside the medical fees and the surgery fees, it wasn't even enough for the cost of the ICU room.

But everyone had really done their best already.

That weekend, Yu Lanchuan made an appointment with an hourly worker and went to clean up Granduncle's home. While the hourly worker was working, he moved a chair to sit at the front door, enjoying the wind from the corridor as he went through a bunch of data related to investment. He was not working very efficiently; his eyes kept drifting to the next door apartment. When a sound came from the neighbouring apartment's door, Yu Lanchuan unconsciously sat up straighter. He put on a cold and aloof face, and stared at his laptop screen without lifting his head.

The neighbour spoke, "Oh, what a rare visitor. Xiao-Chuan is here?"

"...Good morning, Grandma Zhang."

What a waste of his feelings.

Just as he was about to look away again, uninterested, the elevator sounded with a ding. Someone had come up.

The person who came was a man in his thirties. He was covered in the dust of his travels and he carried a large checkered plastic nylon bag on his back. He studied the narrow corridor at a loss for a while. When he saw Yu Lanchuan, he asked in a heavy non-local accent, "Can I ask if Alliance Leader Yu lives on this floor?"

Yu Lanchuan stood up, "My grandfather has passed away."

"Ai, I know. I even lit joss sticks for the old Alliance Leader back home. Then you must be Little Master Yu? I'm looking for you!" As the man spoke, he strode over energetically and swung the large nylon bag down into Yu Lanchuan's hands. That thing weighed at least a few hundred pounds. Perplexed, Yu Lanchuan accepted it and his wrists abruptly sank under the weight. He drew a sharp breath to steel himself and caught it before it could crash onto his feet.

The man wiped his sweat. "I've been on the train for two days. Ai, this journey is really long!"

Yu Lanchuan finally recalled that 1004 was the "management office." "Oh, please come in and have a seat."

"There's no need." The man waved his hand. "I still need to take the afternoon train back. There's only one train a day. Little Master Yu, I don't know anyone in Yanning and I don't know this place well. You're the old Alliance Leader's descendant. After handing the things over to you, I don't have to worry anymore!"

"What-"

The man did not give him the chance to talk at all. He took half a step back then fell to his knees with a thump. He knocked his head a couple of times against the floor, with enough force that the tiles rang with two loud thuds.

Yu Lanchuan, "...."

What the hell! I'm going to call the police!

The man said, "More than thirty years ago, when my mum was still pregnant with me, she took the train to go back to her parents' home. During the journey, she felt nauseous and wanted to puke. She opened the window and met with window-robbers. They reached in from outside, grabbed her bag and wanted to run. My mum was young and hot-blooded, and took pride in the little bit of skills she had. Unwilling to give up her things, she took action to fight them for it and the window-robbers were forced to use their lethal weapons. If Master Qian and the others didn't happen to be lying in wait there, my mum would be gone from this world and I would not be here either! All these years, we didn't know that Master Qian was already gone and Madam Qian was going through such a life. We have let down our benefactors and are too ashamed to meet her. I kowtow twice to Little Master Yu and trouble him to convey my regards to her."

Yu Lanchuan had to admit defeat. "No, how am I to convey this? Wait, don't go! You haven't said who you are!"

The man didn't reply. He leaped up, clasped his fist to salute Yu Lanchuan, then turned on his heels and fled via the stairs like there were wolves chasing him.

The bulging checked nylon bag could not bear the weight. With a tearing sound, it split open and the things inside spilled onto the ground.

Contained inside were dried mountain ginseng, local specialities, bedding, handmade snacks, as well as twenty plus large apples that were now rolling all over the floor and a jar of homemade pickles!

Yu Lanchuan, "..."

And, under this pile of unimaginable curiosities, there were a few neat stacks of renminbi, bound together with a small paper slip. On the paper slip was written: Tying grass into rings, kindness can't be repaid^[1].

After nearly forty years, the sprout that was accidentally planted back then unexpectedly bore fruit.

T/N:

[1] Tying grass into rings 结草衔环 is a Chinese proverb that means "repaying a person's kindness." There are two stories behind the proverb.