RTCBM 36

After coming back from Nathan Road, Mu Yuan filled He Dongying in on the situation. There wasn’t much progress. He only brought back some basic books his father had read, along with a single photograph.

When Mu Yuan mentioned his third uncle, He Dongying grew curious.
“So, what does your third uncle actually look like?”

“Hang on, I’ll show you the photo.”

Mu Yuan reached into his coat pocket and fumbled around for a while but couldn’t find it. Then he rummaged through his shoulder bag, still nothing.

“This is strange. Where the hell did it go?” Mu Yuan muttered under his breath.

“You didn’t lose it, did you?” He Dongying asked. Knowing Mu Yuan’s careless nature, misplacing a photo wouldn’t be surprising.

“No way. I had it in my pocket last night after supper with that guy Wen.” Mu Yuan suddenly realized something. He must have left it in the car.

Wen Shang had some free time today and planned to drive the car to the dealership for repairs. There were a lot of random things inside. Before leaving, he cleaned out what he didn’t need. On the passenger seat, he noticed a photo. He picked it up and took a glance. It wasn’t his. Where did it come from?

He thought about it for a moment. From yesterday until now, Mu Yuan was the only passenger who had ridden in the car. That photo must belong to him.

Wen Shang studied the people in the picture closely. One of the men looked a lot like Mu Yuan. If he was right, that was probably Mu Yuan’s father. His gaze shifted slightly, and the moment Mu Huafeng appeared in his line of sight, Wen Shang froze.

With the photo in hand, Wen Shang left the garage and went back inside. He headed straight upstairs to the study and stopped in front of the tiger scroll hanging on the wall. He stood there for a long time.

After retrieving the car from the garage, Wen Shang gave up on going to the dealership. Instead, he headed toward the old district and eventually parked in front of a worn-out residential building.

He got out and walked up the stairs to the third floor, stopping at the unit on the left. The iron door, untouched for years, had lost all its paint. Next to it, a rusted metal plate was embedded into the wall, with the character “Mu” engraved on it.

To confirm his suspicion, Wen Shang spent the entire afternoon looking into the property details. The current owner was Mu Yuan. Before that, the name listed as the original owner was Mu Huafeng.

A memory surfaced. That morning, when he was changing with his back to Mu Yuan, his tattoo had been exposed. Mu Yuan had asked him about it, but Wen Shang thought he was just being nosy and didn’t answer. Only now did he connect Mu Yuan with that tattoo.

He had never known Mu Huafeng’s full name. Back then, he had only called him “Uncle Hua.”

Wen Shang met Mu Huafeng after getting to know Mu Yuan. He used to wait under the big banyan tree in the old district, hoping to see Mu Yuan again. For some reason, even after more than half a month, that person never showed up.

Wen Shang wasn’t the most patient. The longer he waited, the more that hope was chipped away.

That day was the last time he ever waited under that banyan tree. He had been sitting there since noon. By sunset, Mu Yuan still hadn’t appeared. Cursing himself for being an idiot, he stood up from the stone bench. As he left, he let go of whatever lingering attachment he had and never looked back.

On the way home, he was in a foul mood. He took a longer route on purpose, only to end up being followed by a group of thugs. They spotted his designer clothes, could tell he was from a rich family, and dragged him into a quiet alley to extort him.

Wen Shang was stubborn by nature. Not only did he refuse to cooperate, he even tried to fight back and run. He ended up struggling with the group. During the scuffle, he kicked one of them, which only provoked the others. That set them off. The rest of the group closed in, trapping him from all sides, fists and feet landing on him without mercy.

At seventeen, Wen Shang was tall, but he was far from strong. Faced with those thugs using brute force, he stood no chance. A sudden blow landed on his back. Someone behind him had smashed a wooden plank across his back, knocking him to the ground in pain.

Just when he was trapped and had nowhere to escape, Mu Huafeng happened to pass by and stepped in. Not only did Mu Huafeng beat up those bullies without hesitation, he also took Wen Shang home and disinfected his wounds, then did a simple wrap to stop the bleeding.

Boys often looked up to people stronger than themselves. After witnessing Mu Huafeng’s combat skills, Wen Shang naturally began to admire him and even asked if he could teach him a few moves.

Mu Huafeng agree.

During summer break, Wen Shang started going to the old district almost every day to learn boxing from Mu Huafeng. Over time, the two of them became quite close.

One day, after a training session, they were sitting to the side catching their breath. Mu Huafeng asked, “Xiao Shang, how old are you this year?”

“Seventeen.” Wen Shang wiped his sweat with a towel as he answered.

“Second year of high school?”

“Yeah.” Wen Shang nodded.

Mu Huafeng smiled. “I’ve got a nephew. He’s a year younger than you. You two actually have similar personalities. Both stubborn, prideful, and strong in your own way. I think if the two of you met, you’d get along pretty well and probably become good friends.”

Whenever he talked about his nephew, Mu Huafeng could go on endlessly. Every sentence, every pause, every bit of punctuation seemed to overflow with praise. He couldn’t stop bragging, and all of it painted his nephew in the best light. The more Wen Shang listened, the more curious he became. Just how outstanding could this person be?

“My nephew’s been learning Cantonese opera since he was little. He sings beautifully. He’s the rising star of the troupe now,” Mu Huafeng said with a grin so wide he looked like a proud father showing off his own son. “He’s away with the troupe right now, doing cultural exchange performances in another province. When he gets back, I’ll introduce you.”

Back then, Wen Shang hadn’t thought much of it. He just smiled and replied, “Sure.”

It wasn’t until nine years later, today, as those memories came flooding back, that he finally understood.

That boy he once waited for under the banyan tree hadn’t lied or played with him. Fate had simply nudged them out of sync.

To Wen Shang, Mu Huafeng had always seemed like a man with sharp instincts and a hidden side. He never had to go to work, yet his phone rang constantly. People were always calling him. Whenever he picked up, he spoke in strange coded language Wen Shang couldn’t understand.

Wen Shang had long wondered what exactly Mu Huafeng did for a living. One day, curiosity finally got the better of him, and he asked.

Mu Huafeng just laughed and ruffled his hair. “That’s a secret.” It was clear he had no intention of telling him.

Wen Shang was sharp enough to take the hint. Since Mu Huafeng didn’t want to say, he never brought it up again.

Mu Huafeng never asked for anything in return. He taught Wen Shang for free, never once expecting a reward. Still, Wen Shang often felt like he was imposing, showing up at his place day after day. To show his appreciation, he would sometimes bring food along.

Whenever Mu Huafeng saw him arrive with a big bag in hand, he knew his student was here to offer tribute again. That always made him genuinely happy.

Wen Shang knew Mu Huafeng loved grilled skewers. So whenever he went out for barbecue with friends, he would pack up a few extra boxes and bring them over.

He stood outside Mu Huafeng’s door and knocked for quite a while. No one came to answer. Thinking Mu Huafeng wasn’t home, he hung the food on the doorknob so it would be easy to spot when he returned. As his hand touched the handle, acting on impulse, he gave it a gentle twist to the right.

The door wasn’t locked.

Wen Shang pushed it open and stepped inside. The living room was empty except for a fan rotating from side to side, humming loudly as it blew air. He glanced at the entryway and noticed Mu Huafeng’s shoes lying haphazardly on the floor. There were bloodstains on the tiles, leading in a trail toward the doorway of the bedroom.

Wen Shang frowned. He set the food down gently on the coffee table, then moved quietly toward the bedroom, careful with every step.

The door was open. A shirtless man was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back facing the entrance. A ferocious tiger was tattooed across his back, its form vivid and intimidating. Blood ran down his injured right arm as he poured antiseptic onto the wound, gritting his teeth. Just watching it made Wen Shang’s scalp tingle.

He froze, unsure whether to stay or turn and leave. But before he could decide, Mu Huafeng sensed someone behind him. He stood up at once, grabbed the gun in his hand, and turned toward the door.

“Who’s there?” Mu Huafeng’s voice was sharp.

He raised the gun, but the moment he saw who it was, he lowered it immediately.

“Hua… Uncle Hua…” Wen Shang’s heart was pounding like it might burst from his chest. When he saw the gun in Mu Huafeng’s hand, his fear was impossible to hide. What if Mu Huafeng thought his cover had been blown and decided to silence him?

He stood frozen in place, legs heavy like they were filled with lead. He couldn’t lift them at all. Cold sweat seeped from his forehead. He thought to himself, this might be it.

Even though fear had taken over, he still tried to put on a calm face. Every bit of his expression was clearly visible to Mu Huafeng.

Mu Huafeng didn’t move. He put the gun into the drawer and locked it with a key. Then he stood there and waited, knowing Wen Shang probably had a lot of questions. But Wen Shang said nothing. He stayed by the doorway, staring at him in silence for a long time.

At last, Mu Huafeng couldn’t hold back any longer. He broke the silence with a faint, self-deprecating laugh and said, “You’ve always been curious about who I really am, haven’t you? Well, now you’ve seen it. Since you know, it’s best if you don’t get involved with me. Go home. Don’t come back.”

Seeing that Wen Shang was still standing there, unmoving, he frowned and deliberately spoke in a harsher tone to drive him away.

“I told you to leave. Do you get what I mean?”

But instead of leaving, Wen Shang stepped across the threshold and walked straight over. He picked up the medical supplies on the table and started disinfecting the wound on Mu Huafeng’s arm.
“Uncle Hua, raise your arm a little and hold that position. Don’t move for now. I’ll be done soon. I’ve had Red Cross emergency training. I know how to handle a wound like this.”

Then he grabbed a roll of gauze and began wrapping it around Mu Huafeng’s arm.

Mu Huafeng sat in silence for a while before finally asking, “Xiao Shang, aren’t you afraid of me?”

Wen Shang looked up at him.
“If you were a bad person, you wouldn’t have stepped in to help me that day. You saved me.”

Mu Huafeng let out a quiet laugh. It was soft, but his mood was clearly lifted.

The way they got along hadn’t changed. Even now, knowing who Mu Huafeng really was, Wen Shang never brought up his ties to the underworld.

What caught his attention more than Mu Huafeng’s personal secrets was the tattoo on his back. From the first time he saw it, that tiger had captured his gaze completely.

“Uncle Hua, do you have the original design for that tiger tattoo?”

Mu Huafeng paused mid-dumbbell rep and looked at him with a puzzled expression.
“What do you want the original for?”

“It’s nothing. We’ve got an art assignment over the summer. I want to draw your tattoo.”

Mu Huafeng didn’t have any original design. Back then, he had just gone straight to the tattoo shop, picked an old master, and got it inked on the spot without even a sketch.

He said, “You can just search online. There are plenty of tiger designs out there. No need to ask me for the original.”

But Wen Shang had already searched. There were tons of tiger tattoos online, especially down-the-mountain tiger styles, but none of them had the presence or spirit of Mu Huafeng’s. He only liked that one. Nothing else came close.

Mu Huafeng let out a hearty laugh. He turned around and pointed at his back.
“You really think this tiger looks good?”

Wen Shang thought about it, then nodded slightly and answered honestly,
“Yeah. It looks cool.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Mu Huafeng gave him a playful wink. “I’ll talk to the artist who did it. Maybe he can sketch it out for you.”

Wen Shang waved his hand.
“No need to trouble him. How about this. You let me take a picture. I’ll just print it out myself.”

Mu Huafeng agreed, but then he seemed to remember something. He narrowed his eyes at Wen Shang, staring at him with suspicion. “You’re not planning to get one yourself, are you?”

Wen Shang’s heart skipped a beat. “No, no, don’t get the wrong idea…”

“Good. That’s for the best.” Mu Huafeng lit a cigarette and pointed at him with it.
“You kids at this age are at a dangerous stage. Half mature, half impulsive. It’s easy to start idolizing the wrong people and blindly copy them. Next thing you know, you’re down the wrong path.”

Mu Huafeng took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of gray smoke. Then he said, “Xiao Shang, don’t say Uncle Hua’s lecturing you. You come from a better family than most. That’s something you should make the most of. Stay on the right path, understand? Don’t follow in my footsteps. I didn’t have a choice. My life was never really mine to steer.”

As he spoke, he let out a heavy sigh, the kind that seemed to come from deep inside.

Why wasn’t it his to steer?

Wen Shang looked at him in confusion, but in the end, he didn’t ask.

Mu Huafeng may have lived a life on the streets, but when it came to Wen Shang, he always spoke with patience. He told him to respect his parents, to be grateful, to hold onto the core principles of being a decent human being. He said it was okay not to always do good, but never to do anything that went against your conscience.

Wen Shang’s admiration for Mu Huafeng wasn’t just because of his fighting skills. It was because of his unique character and the moral code he never abandoned, no matter the life he led.

Wen Shang no longer remembered the exact day they last met. He only remembered that, like always, he had gone to Mu Huafeng’s place for training. He stood outside the door and knocked for a long time, but no one answered. So he took out his phone and called him.

On the other end, Mu Huafeng’s voice sounded different. Weak, strained, and short of breath. Thinking of the wound on his arm from a while back, Wen Shang couldn’t help but assume the worst. He felt a wave of worry come over him.

“Uncle Hua, are you in some kind of trouble?”

Mu Huafeng didn’t explain what he was going through.
“Xiao Shang,” he said gently, “don’t come looking for me anymore.”

“Why?” Wen Shang asked, confused.

“It’s for your own safety.”

Wen Shang didn’t answer.

“I mean it. You have to promise me.”

Wen Shang knew Mu Huafeng’s identity was sensitive. The world he was in was far too complicated. He understood that Mu Huafeng was cutting ties to keep him out of danger. He understood all of that. But still…

“Uncle Hua,” he called softly, but the line had already gone dead. When he tried calling again, the phone was switched off.

For the next several days, Mu Huafeng’s phone remained unreachable. Wen Shang had no idea where he’d gone, and he didn’t fully grasp the seriousness of what Mu Huafeng had said to him over the phone.

He went back to Mu Huafeng’s place, again and again, but there was never anyone home.

One evening, there were guests at Wen Shang’s house, and they had brought along a variety of cakes. Wen Shang picked out a few of the best ones to take to Mu Huafeng.

When he reached the building, he looked up at the window on the third floor. The apartment was completely dark. He stopped in his tracks, wondering if maybe he should just go back.

Suddenly, a stranger approached him from behind, covered his mouth, and dragged him into the nearby bushes.

It was too dark to see the man’s face. Wen Shang struggled instinctively, but the man immediately pulled a gun from his pocket and pressed it against his forehead. Wen Shang froze.

“Mu Huafeng warned you, didn’t he? You think his words were just for show?” The man’s voice was laced with fury. “You want me to blow your head off right here?”

It was the first time Wen Shang had ever had a gun pressed to his head. His whole body was trembling uncontrollably. The cake box slipped from his hands, landing in the dirt and getting smeared with mud.

“Get the hell out of here,” the man growled. “If I see you around again, you won’t be the only one in trouble. Your whole family better start being careful.”

Wen Shang had calmed down a little by now. His mind raced, analyzing the situation. This man wasn’t here to kill him. If he were, he would’ve already pulled the trigger.

Wen Shang steadied himself and asked, “Do you know where Uncle Hua went?”

The man stayed silent for a long time before finally speaking. “He’s dead. Don’t come back here again.”

Wen Shang stood frozen. His mind went completely blank. He didn’t know how long he remained there. By the time he came to, the man was already gone.

From that day on, Wen Shang never returned to the old district.

The boy under the banyan tree, and the man he had truly admired, were both gone. That summer, the one when he was seventeen, quietly came to an end with a sense of loss he couldn’t quite describe.

One day after school, Wen Shang returned home to find a package addressed to him. He couldn’t recall having ordered anything recently. He opened it, removed the lid from the tube, and took out a rolled-up scroll.

He slowly unrolled it across the table. What appeared before him was a bold, ferocious tiger. Its eyes, its posture, the shape of its body… every detail was exactly the same as the tattoo on Mu Huafeng’s back.

Mu Huafeng had kept his promise. He had found someone to recreate the tattoo as a painting and sent it to Wen Shang as a gift. Along with it came a short message, written in eight characters.

Wishing you a bright journey ahead. We may never meet again.

Wen Shang stared at the scroll. His lips curved slightly, and a quiet laugh escaped him. But as he laughed, his eyes began to sting.

He didn’t know what the other side of Mu Huafeng’s life was really like. But to him, the Uncle Hua he had known was never a bad person. Their time together had been short, just one summer. Still, everything that man had taught him, every word he said, had shaped the road ahead in ways Wen Shang would carry for life.

The ringtone pulled Wen Shang back to the present. He glanced at the screen. It was a call from Mu Yuan. Without thinking much, he answered.

“Wen-ge, where are you right now?” Mu Yuan sounded anxious. “I left something in your car last night.”

Wen Shang was just driving into the neighborhood. After turning a corner and nearing his house, he saw Mu Yuan standing outside by the gate. He switched off the engine, got out of the car, and walked straight toward him.

He held up the photo in his hand.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”

Mu Yuan’s eyes lit up with excitement. He nodded vigorously.
“Yes, yes, that’s the one.”

Just as he was about to take the photo, Wen Shang pulled it back. Then he reached out, grabbed Mu Yuan by the wrist, and led him into the house, heading for the study upstairs.

“Hey, where are we going?” Mu Yuan asked, a little confused.

“Come with me. I have something to tell you.” His voice was calm, unusually gentle. It didn’t sound like him at all.