Chapter 21

21

When Shen Po stepped outside, met by the driver Xiao Wu’s inquiry, he realized he had stormed out purely on impulse, with nowhere in mind to go.

Go home and sleep? He had already slept the entire day away. Right now, he was full of energy with nowhere to vent it.

Turn back inside to dance a few more rounds? Ever since watching all those girl group dance videos on a smartphone a century in the future, coming back to the New World to watch the same repetitive routines and hear the tunes he could hum with his eyes closed felt utterly dull.

Alluring, pale female figures were wrapped in vibrant qipaos as the dance hostesses did their best to evoke a vision of a flourishing, carefree Shanghai. Yet no matter how they danced, they could never dance away the dark clouds looming overhead, nor escape the city’s golden exterior masking rotten decay within.

What could he do?

He could do nothing at all.

It would be better to know nothing, living happily one day at a time.

Shen Po gazed at the gloomy sky, feeling hollow.

He found himself missing the world a hundred years in the future.

It was not merely because he could encounter unimaginable technology there, but more importantly, he could live without the burden of constant dread, free from the shadow of known and impending danger.

People there had troubles and burdens of their own, but at the very least, they did not have to worry about their country falling to ruin, about bombers roaring overhead, or about having no one to rescue them when disaster struck.

Seeing him looking downcast, the driver Xiao Wu assumed some dance hostess inside had bruised his ego. Stepping forward to lighten the mood, he said, “Young Master, if the New World isn’t fun, how about we head over to the Florence Ballroom across the street? You went there last time.”

“Not going!”

Shen Po had already learned from Wen Yan’s records what he had done at the Florence Ballroom. There was no way he would willingly walk into that trap again.

Yet Xiao Wu’s interruption actually reminded him of something.

Earlier, on the internet a century later, he had boldly declared he would write a long post detailing the virtues of the Republic of China to refute those armchair critics who talked big without knowing anything. Then an earthquake had struck out of nowhere, leaving him unable to return for a time, and the matter had slipped his mind.

Shen Po thought that as a native of Republic of China Shanghai, he knew everything there was to know about dining and entertainment. If someone asked which street had the most dance halls or Western restaurants, he could answer with his eyes closed. But none of that could serve as evidence, since a century later, even ordinary people considered such pastimes utterly commonplace.

What else was there to talk about?

Shen Po’s eyes flicked thoughtfully, and he pulled Xiao Wu over.

“Go find a place that’s poor, but not too poor. Let’s go take a look around.”

What?

Xiao Wu thought his ears were playing tricks on him.

“Young Master, why do you want to go to a place like that?”

Shen Po put on an earnest air. “I’m going to inspect the living conditions of the common people.”

Xiao Wu: …Did you think you were the mayor? Even the mayor wouldn’t set foot in those places.

Despite his silent grumbling, he hurriedly tried to dissuade him: “Young Master, it’s the middle of the night. What are we going out there for? It’s far too dangerous!”

He did not suspect Shen Po had suddenly changed his nature; he just thought Shen Po was bored out of his mind. Having grown tired of the dazzling nightlife, he was probably just looking for some novel thrill.

Shen Po dismissed his concern. “Don’t you have a pistol in the car? I know how to shoot too, so what’s there to be afraid of? You follow me in and out of all these dining and drinking establishments all the time; it’s about time you saw other places. Stop keeping your sights locked on just these few spots all day long. Shanghai is huge, and broadening your horizons will do you good.”

He was two years younger than Xiao Wu, yet he spoke in the tone of an elder giving a lecture.

The corner of Xiao Wu’s mouth twitched. Seeing how stubborn Shen Po was, he could only say, “Alright, Young Master, but let’s just park from a distance to look. Please don’t go over there. If anything goes wrong, the master and madam will skin me alive!”

Shen Po waved his hand impatiently. “I know, I know. Hurry up!”

He climbed into the car after Xiao Wu, and they headed northeast. The drive was not long, but the streetlights soon grew sparse, and the surrounding scenery became increasingly desolate.

Feeling uneasy, Xiao Wu slowed the car down even more.

“Young Master, how about we just look from here?”

Shen Po rolled down the window and peered around.

“Where is it?”

Xiao Wu pointed toward a row of dark, squat single-story houses by the river.

“Right over there. The place is called Fanguanong^[1]. You can’t see much at night, but it looks even more run-down in the daytime. It’s home to people who never know where their next meal is coming from.”

Shen Po suddenly asked, “Xiao Wu, if I remember right, didn’t your family used to live in a Gundilong^[2] too?”

The term Gundilong referred to slum areas like Fanguanong, and was also used to encompass the people living inside those shacks, carrying a tone of mockery and contempt.

Feeling embarrassed, Xiao Wu still replied, “We used to. But thanks to the master and you, Young Master, our family moved out a long time ago. We don’t live there anymore.”

His father was the Shen family gardener, an honest, fearful man for over a decade. It was solely because of that connection that Xiao Wu had landed the job as Shen Po’s driver.

Yet to Xiao Wu, coming from such a background was something he never wished to mention.

Shen Po had not thought much of it and merely asked offhand, without noticing Xiao Wu’s uncomfortable expression.

Having asked his question, he got out of the car and walked toward the shacks.

Terrified, Xiao Wu jumped out and rushed to catch up, trying to stop him.

“Young Master! Young Master, that place isn’t fun at all! The people there are fierce, and it’s filthy and foul! Let’s go somewhere else!”

“Stop nagging!”

Shen Po had always been willful; he had no patience for Xiao Wu’s worries.

In the cold weather, people turned in early, and being poor, they could not afford to burn lamps. Total darkness stretched before his eyes, though an occasional speck of light appeared where someone had just returned from a late shift or gotten up to use the chamber pot.

For Shen Po and the dazzling world of Shanghai, the night had only just begun, but for these people, their night was already over. They could only hope for the sun to rise quickly, lest their thin cotton quilts fail to keep them from freezing to death before the new year arrived.

Though the air was crisp and chilly, Shen Po could still catch whiffs of a foul odor. It was hard to tell where it originated, perhaps drifting from every direction at once, clawing at his senses with unbearable discomfort. Shen Po even felt as though the stench had seeped not just into his suit, but directly into his skin.

Even without waiting for dawn, he could already glimpse the reality of how the people here lived.

Poverty, suffering, misery.

A small fraction of people brought it upon themselves, gluttonous and lazy, refusing to work hard, preferring to wallow in the mud and take things day by day rather than pull themselves together.

In the past, Shen Po had thought that these poor people were impoverished entirely due to their own laziness.

Yet having traveled a century into the future and returned, looking at the scene before him now, an epiphany suddenly struck him, and he faintly grasped something deeper.

Far more people were not unwilling to work hard; they were simply born into sorrow and hardship.

Industrious and toiling from dawn to dusk, never resting for a moment like busy bees, they still barely managed enough food and clothing in good years, and in bad years, they could not even feed themselves.

Year after year, day after day, they lacked the surplus nourishment and time to ponder right and wrong or judge true and false. They could only drift numbly with the tide, obeying the rules of society, until they were crushed breathless under those rules and suffocated to death.

Why?

Because they were not born into the Shen family. Because they did not have a good father. Because they lacked the opportunity to receive an education. They could only see the small patch of sky directly above their heads, like frogs at the bottom of a well. Surviving at all was already a stroke of luck, so what more could they ask for?

In the past, Shen Po had taken pride in his background, believing that being born lucky, reincarnating into a good family, was a skill in its own right.

Who told you people not to be born into a good household?

Yet once he learned of the fate awaiting this nation, knowing that rich and poor alike would be treated the same, he finally began to feel a sliver of empathetic indignation. Bound by their shared identity as Chinese marked for slaughter, he began to feel a tiny bit of resonance with these impoverished people.

Most people, unless pushed into such circumstances themselves, could never truly understand the suffering of others.

Shen Po was not inherently depraved; he simply had never possessed the occasion or reason to empathize with others without cause.

Without realizing it, Shen Po walked further and further.

In the cold night, he wove through the slums of Shanghai where the wealthy never cared to set foot.

Under the cloak of darkness, no one noticed the arrival of such a young master.

Had it been daytime, attire like Shen Po’s might well have drawn stares, whether cold or ill-intentioned.

Xiao Wu had no choice but to follow closely behind, having no clue what kind of madness had seized his young master.

A few days ago, he had made a fuss about transferring departments to attend some salon, which could at least be chalked up to a prodigal son turning over a new leaf. But wandering the slums in the middle of the night? Surely he hadn’t fallen for a girl from a decent family, gotten rejected, and lost his mind from the shock?

Xiao Wu muttered inwardly to himself, but then he saw a figure hurrying past along the base of the wall with their head bowed. Shen Po let out a soft “Huh?”, then took off in quick pursuit!