Far away from the Kunlun Mountains, a lone beggar wandered the streets of a busy city. His tattered, aged clothing had been covered in countless patches clumsily sewed-on pockets. Constant exposure to filth and the elements reduced the fabric's original colors to nondescript shades of brown. His wide-brimmed hat shielded his broad, bearded face from the sun, and hid his perpetual bitter grimace away from any onlookers, though it wasn't as if the people were eager to stare.

  An appetizing scent wafted from nearby, and his stomach grumbled. The beggar circled a restaurant and arrived at the back entrance. He knocked and hadn't needed to wait long before a plump madam opened the door. As the beggar before her assailed her senses, her curiosity had instantly evaporated and turned to disgust.

  "Spare a morsel of rice for the needy?" The beggar asked, extending his empty bowl.

  The woman pouted at his words as though offended by the mere suggestion. The next moment, her hands were on her hips. The beggar braced himself for a deluge of abuse. But she had been preempted by the irritated voice of a man emerging from behind her, rushing into the doorway to get the first word in.

  "Who said you can get a free meal here? Where does it say that?!" He demanded. The proprietor was a tall and brawny fellow, and beneath his expensive clothing, his body rippled with muscle. So when he began to throw his meaty finger around to enhance his accusations, it made for a threatening display. "Stop harassing my wife! Get lost! Before you scare off my customers with your stench!"

  "I was trying to be considerate, coming through here instead of the front..." The beggar mumbled in his own defense. "Listen, I don't need much. Any old leftovers will do."

  "Go away!" The man slammed the door in his face. But even past the shut door the beggar could still hear the shouting continue. "Give one of them a handout once and they'll all start lining up to get more! You'll never see the end of it. If I catch any of you giving food away, you'll be joining those bums out on the street!"

  The beggar fumed as he listened, eventually leaving with a snort. He circled back around the restaurant and began to make himself comfortable by the entrance. He lied down, leaning against the porch, set his bowl beside him, and flicked down his hat so that it covered his face. His ire eventually cooled, and he fell into a brief slumber.

  He was jolted awake by someone kicking at his feet.

  "Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" The owner bellowed.

  The beggar squinted his eyes at him. "Well, since you won't feed me, I can't do much else but hope to fill my stomach with just the fumes of a good meal, now can I?"

  "Have you lost your mind? I let you off lightly, but it's like you want to get beaten!" The proprietor kept kicking at his feet. The beggar didn't budge, it made the entire affair look like a tantrum. "You think anyone wants to come into my restaurant with you sitting here?!"

  The beggar shrugged. The brawny man grew red in the face.

  "I'm getting my stick!" He exclaimed, storming off back into the restaurant.

  The beggar shook his head and grumbled, but remained sitting where he was. The proprietor was taking his time to reemerge, though he continued to make himself heard; perhaps he had believed that the display was enough to scare the beggar off.

  It was then that the beggar took notice of two barrel chested lads confidently strolling down the street, people shuddering out of their way. Though one was tall and the other somewhat short, the beggar surmised by their many similarities that they were related by blood, most likely brothers. They even styled their hair in the same way, tied up into topknots. Without sparing him so much as a glance, they stepped inside the establishment.

  The incessant droning of the man inside had suddenly ceased. Curious, the beggar craned his neck and peered inside through an open window.

  The proprietor had shapeshifted into the very image of a modest and accommodating gentleman. He maintained a one-sided, polite conversation as he handed the two guests a small pouch. The taller brother quietly counted the coins within as the owner kept prattling on and on, and eventually whispered something to the shorter one.

  "You're light!" The smaller brother's accusation shook the walls.

  "It's- it's because of that beggar outside!" The proprietor stuttered. "He's been camped out there for days, scaring off my customers! It's not my fault!"

  The beggar narrowed his eyes at that brazen lie. The two thugs guffawed at his excuse. When their laughter stop, they began to put the big man through the works, showering him with punches and kicks until he curled up into a quivering ball on the floor.

  "The rest of it better be there tomorrow morning!" They warned, stepping out.

  As they left the restaurant, the two brothers finally took notice of the beggar. They chuckled amongst themselves and kicked his feet out of their way. The beggar shook his head.

  After they were gone, the husband was helped up off the floor by the madam. The two went upstairs and held a tense discussion that the beggar couldn't quite make out despite its ringing volume. Soon the wife emerged, a cloth bundle in her hands and tears in her eyes, rushing off down the street. She returned an hour later empty-handed. The beggar figured she had sold something to make right on what they owed. They no longer even had the space of mind to complain about his continued presence. The beggar softly grumbled as he heard the irate couple continue to argue into the night.

  The beggar slept in the same place, not once stepping off. When the first rays of the sun had interrupted his uneasy rest, he found himself staring down the street, pondering a matter intensely. Every fiber of his being was telling him to mind his own business, to let sleeping dogs lie, to get up and get on out, but each time he had tried to raise his body off the ground, he failed, and the look on his bearded face grew ever more bitter.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Finally, with a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate. The beggar scooched over, planting his back against the closed door. Covering his eyes with his hat, he waited. He heard the two brothers coming up around the corner long before he saw them, laughing about one thing or another. As the beggar leaned back and glimpsed at them from the corner of his eye, he discovered that the shorter one came armed with a cudgel, and the tall one wore a saber on his back.

  They very pointedly ignored him until they drew near. Perhaps they would have continued to ignore him had he not been blocking the door.

  "Look at this guy!" The short one exclaimed. "He's still here."

  Without another word the brute stepped forward and drove a knee into his face. At the very last moment, the beggar leaned out of the way, and the small brother smashed through the door. The beggar deftly rolled away, and the short man pursued, swinging down with his cudgel. But his stick struck at nothing but the wooden porch, the beggar twisting and turning out of the way with all the grace of a fish on dry land.

  Suddenly, the prone foe caught his armed limb and dragged him down. The thug never quite reached the ground, the beggar's leg cutting his descent short as it slammed into his chin from below. The short man wobbled back, letting go of his weapon. The beggar cudgeled his knee, forcing him to hit the dirt with a confused yelp.

  "Big bro!" The big man shouted, unsheathing his steel. "Get away from him, I got it!"

  The older brother had crawled away not a moment too soon as his younger sibling slashed from above. But to his continued frustration, the squirming beggar weaseled out of one strike, then another, and finally caught the third between his feet.

  The taller brother could do nothing to budge his weapon out of the beggar's bizarre grip. To the contrary, he had found himself getting pulled in closer. The beggar's feet finally separated, but there was not a moment for the thug to react before he had gotten kicked in the face, sent into a brief flight before he crashed to the earth.

  The two brothers gawked at the beggar, still laid down on the ground as he was, having not even so much as lost his hat during the struggle. Their disbelief slowly wore off, replaced by terror as they began to truly grasp the gravity of their situation. They lifted themselves up and ran as quickly as they could, leaving their weapons behind.

  Once they were gone, the beggar finally stood up with a sigh and picked up his bowl. Just as he made to leave, a voice humbly called out to him.

  "Esteemed elder," The proprietor spoke, "Surely it wouldn't do for you to leave with an empty stomach. Come inside, let us treat you to a meal."

  The beggar glanced around, noticing that his brief fight had managed to draw quite a crowd; the entire neighborhood stared at him from their windows. As he glimpsed at the married couple, his eyes flashed with disdain. The two of them noticed right away, paling and shrinking back.

  "You two were so quick to change your tune!" The beggar grumbled. "I win one little brawl and I'm no longer just a stinky hobo in your eyes! Peculiar how a bit of violence can draw out such generosity out of the stingiest of hearts. Well, I lost my appetite now! How could I accept the food of such a two-faced household anyways? It's so easy to see where your values lie. You morons who flip on a dime, for all I know you'd feed me poison!"

  The married couple seemed utterly mystified by the beggar's tirade. They exchanged shamed glances and couldn't figure out what to say. The beggar shook his head and walked away.

  The next day, he moved to the other side of the city and tried to ply his trade as usual. But people had taken notice; it turned out that trouble would find him again in short order.

  "Well, if it isn't elder Ma!" A portly man cheerfully pointed him out. His robes of white and blue readily identified him as a member of the Jianghu Investigative Bureau.

  Ma Yi's grimace deepened at the sight of him. "It's you again, Ye Wenyan."

  "What a coincidence to meet you here!" Ye Wenyan exulted, spraying his hands. "Come, come, let's catch up. I know a good place not far from here - the owner is my second cousin - and they cook duck just the way you like!"

  Though he was loath to agree, luck hadn't been on his side the past few days, leaving his stomach painfully unfulfilled. With a sigh, Ma Yi capitulated with shamefully little bluster.

  Within the private room of a lavish establishment, Ma Yi was promptly treated to an extravagant meal far beyond his stature. Ye Wenyan continued to chatter about one thing or another while the beggar greedily ate his fill. Only after a long time, when his feasting had finally concluded, did he deign to speak.

  "For you to seek me out in person instead of contacting me through a subordinate like usual... Well, the matter must be quite serious." Ma Yi mused.

  "Seek you out? Why, I had just coincidentally heard that someone sent the Twin Snakes packing, and was surprised to discover that it was you."

  "Last time, you even tried to use a woman to trick me into it!" Ma Yi laughed. "What happened to the girl, by the way? Did she ever become an investigator?"

  Ye Wenyan shrugged and shook his head. "Whatever could you mean?" But though he tried to remain nonchalant, a bit of color flushed to his round cheeks, betraying his part in the embarrassing affair.

  "Oh, cut the crap." Ma Yi drilled his teeth with a toothpick. "You know what my answer's going to be. Just get it off your chest so you can tell your superiors that you'd done your part."

  Ye Wenyan's smile faltered for just a moment. "...Well, then do forgive me for being impolite."

  He shoved the dirty plates aside to make some room and unrolled a wanted poster on the table.

  As he took it in, Ma Yi's eyes widened. The poster depicted someone he had only seen once before, but it was a face that he would never forget.

  The face of that golden haired, golden eyed woman.