Chapter 65: The Street Punks of Tianjin Port

There is a popular saying in the capital:
"Slickers from Beijing, sharp-tongued folks from Tianjin, and lackeys from Baoding."
In his past life, Liaiguo had found this saying quite reasonable.
Weren't those crosstalk performers from Tianjin specialized in just running their mouths?
However, having come to this era, he realized that this saying was dead wrong.
Take Tianjin, for example. Aside from crosstalk performers, the place was notorious for its street ruffians.
Their "glorious deeds" had been passed down from the late Qing dynasty all the way to the present day.
Some ruffians would fish silver dollars bare-handed out of boiling oil.
Others would slice off their own fingers to use as gambling chips...
Anyone who had spent years running the Beijing-Tianjin railway line knew just how troublesome the Tianjin ruffians could be.
...
Hearing the commotion, Liaiguo realized something might be going wrong and walked over quickly.
At the train car entrance,
Zhang Yazhi was explaining the railway regulations to a gloomy-looking, skinny fellow.
While speaking, the skinny fellow fished a homemade dagger out of his pocket, glaring sideways at Zhang Yazhi.
"Today, if you don't let me on, I'll slash myself right here."
Without any hesitation, the skinny fellow applied a bit of pressure, and a bloody gash instantly opened up on his palm, with beads of fresh blood seeping out.
Seeing the surrounding passengers scatter in panic, the skinny fellow raised his hand high and said smugly, "How is it? Can I get on the train now?"
Zhang Yazhi was merely covering a shift for a colleague; she was relatively inexperienced and had never encountered anything like this. Her pretty face turned pale with fright.
Had the skinny fellow dared to threaten her with violence right then and there, she could have shouted loudly to have the crowd seize him, or called the train's security police.
However.
This man had actually resorted to self-mutilation, all covered in blood—it was genuinely terrifying.
Subconsciously, Zhang Yazhi stepped to the side, clearing a path.
"That's more like it, little girl. When you get to Tianjin in the future, just ask around about the mighty reputation of Wild-dog Huang Fourth."
Huang Fourth sneered twice, fished a strip of cloth from his pocket, shook it out, grinned as he wrapped it around his bleeding finger, and lifted his foot to step into the train car.
The moment his left foot stepped onto the threshold—
Suddenly.
A flash of black light darted through the air. Huang Fourth's expression shifted drastically, and he tried to step back.
Unfortunately, it was already too late.
With a resounding thud, Huang Fourth was kicked off the train, landing heavily on the platform and kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Oh, sweet mother of mine!"
The ruffian let out a miserable scream, struggling to stand up, only to have a large boot stamp down squarely on his forehead.
"Good grief, a puny ruffian trying to throw his weight around on my train."
Liaiguo ground his heel down hard twice on Huang Fourth's head, causing the man to grimace and gasp in pain.
These days, there weren't many people daring to act high and mighty on a train, but the ruffians of Tianjin were definitely among them.

Grasping Huang Fourth by the collar, Liaiguo fished the small knife out of his pocket.
Sporting an eerie smile, he said, "Weren't you trying to act tough? Good, today you're going to show me just how tough you really are."
"No, big brother, big brother, you've misunderstood..."
Seeing Liaiguo pin his bloody palm flat against the ground, Huang Fourth's face instantly drained of color as he hastily began to beg for mercy.
"What misunderstanding? Aren't you a ruffian? Don't you thugs from Tianjin love playing with self-harm?"
"Today, I'll keep you company and play with you properly."
Liaiguo picked up the small knife and began stabbing it rapidly into the gaps between Huang Fourth's splayed fingers.
"Let's get this straight first: my aim isn't all that great. If I accidentally stab your finger, please bear with it."
"Swish."
A flash of white light cut through the air.
Huang Fourth squeezed his eyes shut in sheer terror, and only dared to open them slowly when he felt no pain.
Staring at the blade embedded firmly in the dirt right between his fingers, Huang Fourth squeezed out a strained smile. "Big brother, your aim is incredible!"
"Is that so? The really accurate part is yet to come!"
Liaiguo picked up the knife again and stabbed down fiercely into the finger gaps once more.
The tip of the blade struck the concrete ground, sending sparks flying—a sight chilling enough to make anyone's blood run cold.
With such immense force, if his hand slipped even slightly, those fingers would be gone for good.
After just seven or eight stabs, all of which landed with pinpoint accuracy right between the digits, Huang Fourth's face turned completely ashen.
"Big brother, big brother, I yield, I yield!"
"I'm not getting on the train today, alright?!"
"I'll leave, I'm leaving right now."
Liaiguo stopped his hand and smiled. "Truly yielded?"
"Truly yielded!" Huang Fourth's face was livid as he nodded vigorously.
To survive as a thug in Tianjin, one had to be utterly devoid of fear when it came to pain and death.
Skinheads and punies from other places liked to use brawls to intimidate their opponents.
Whoever had better martial arts, more weapons, or deeper backing was considered the tough guy, the boss.
However.
Tianjin was a bizarre place.
When locking horns with others, the ruffians here often resorted to self-mutilation to intimidate their rivals, hacking and slashing themselves into a bloody mess until the other party was thoroughly creeped out.
The implication was crystal clear: *If I dare to treat myself this ruthlessly, what makes you think I won't do the same to you?*
Before liberation, in order to win a beauty's hand, Huang Fourth had once set up a massive wok of cooking oil right in the middle of the street, fueling a roaring fire underneath until the oil boiled furiously.
Then, he had reached bare-handed into the boiling oil and fished out a copper coin.
He had frightened the opposing minor landowner so badly that the man had fled in panic.
And his father, Huang Big Fourth—
Back before liberation, in order to collect protection money—

Had once taken a dagger and, right in front of an audience, pared down one of his own upright index fingers until nothing was left except the bare bone.
In the end.
With complete nonchalance, he had made a circular slice around the base of that finger, cleanly shaving off the remaining flesh and skin.
The terrified opponent could only stammer praises, calling him a "true hero."
One could say:
In a place like Tianjin, if you practiced the Iron Cloth Shirt technique, you had yourself an iron rice bowl.
However.
If you simply refused to treat them like human beings, all their calculated posturing fell completely apart.
Since you want to mutilate yourself, well then, I'll just help you mutilate yourself.
Let's see whose will is harder!
This was precisely the method Liaiguo had employed.
Inside the crew car—
Cao Wenzhi leaned against the window, quietly observing the situation outside the entire time.
When Huang Fourth had started making a scene, Cao Wenzhi had originally intended to go help, but seeing Liaiguo step forward, he had simply settled back into his seat.
He wanted to see how Liaiguo would deal with a Tianjin ruffian.
The ruffians of Tianjin were notorious.
Most of them ran gambling dens and brothels, living on borrowed time; they emerged in turbulent eras and thrived even in times of peace.
The common people suffered deeply at their hands.
After liberation, the higher-ups deeply recognized that the ruffians of Tianjin were a stubborn disease, and carried out several crackdowns, yet none proved effective.
Later on, Yang Bangzi, the chief of police in Tianjin, caught some committing offenses and ordered them to crawl through the crotches of prostitutes.
Feeling that they had lost all face, the ruffians washed their hands of the underworld one after another.
Only then did the social atmosphere gradually improve.
Even so, there were still plenty of fish that slipped through the net.
Huang Fourth, who had just caused trouble, was one of them.
When targeted by such people, experienced train attendants would usually request help from the railway police, but those ruffians would seize the opportunity to slip away the moment they sensed danger.
Trains had very brief station stops, and even if the security police rushed over, they couldn't chase them down and could only report the situation to the station authorities.
The train crews running the Beijing-Tianjin line had suffered bitterly because of them.
Never had they imagined that Liaiguo could resolve the matter so simply and ruthlessly by using such an unreasonable method.
Seeing Huang Fourth attempt to flee only to be knocked flat on his back by a kick from behind, Cao Wenzhi slapped the table and burst out laughing.
"This kid sure has a way of ignoring the rules."
Lao Wang, the veteran assistant locomotive engineer, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and squinted. "As train drivers, we encounter every kind of situation imaginable. If we followed the rules for everything, would this train ever be able to budge an inch?"
"Back then, on that run through Hanggou when you faced those fellows trying to block the train, didn't you draw your gun, too?"
...