The Most Powerful Young Master of the Northern Song Dynasty

Chapter 23: Speaking Up When You See Injustice

On West Street, Wang Bang—who was always on the lookout for a quick buck—spotted a group of thugs acting suspiciously, and they were then confronted by two passing constables. The two officers walked over and gave the thugs a few whacks. The thugs smiled obsequiously and slipped a few copper coins into the officers’ hands. One of the officers, acting all high and mighty, juggled the coins in his palm a couple of times, estimated the amount, and then pointed at the thugs’ leader’s nose, saying, “No trouble.” “Yes, yes, of course,” the gang of thugs replied, bowing and scraping. The officers were about to stride away. “You insolent, corrupt official!” Wang Bang steered Old Liao over again and slapped the constable’s cap right off his head. Upon realizing it was Wang Bang, the two officers said with tearful expressions, “Young Master Wang, how have we offended you?” “You haven’t offended me personally, but aren’t you dissatisfied with the Great Song Dynasty? As a public official, you should be educating them and guiding them toward positive, healthy changes in their futures—to become upstanding citizens—rather than robbing them of their money!” Wang Bang exclaimed, gesturing wildly. The two constables were at a loss for words. When it came to extorting money, they were mere amateurs compared to him—hadn’t the young master just fleeced them of over a hundred coins last time? Yet they didn’t dare retort. This was, of course, wrong—though it was an unspoken rule, it couldn’t see the light of day. If it were reported to the Deputy Magistrate’s or Prefect’s office, whether under Sima Guang or Wang Anshi, they’d definitely be in for a world of trouble. So they dared not say another word; they returned the money to the thug and left with their heads bowed. “The magistrate’s son is mighty!” “My young master is amazing!” Now, these thugs were as hyped up as if they’d been injected with adrenaline, feeling like they’d found a powerful patron. “What good does it do to shout so loud? Have you paid your protection money yet?” Wang Bang’s old habit resurfaced—he wanted to collect protection money from anyone he saw. These thugs were the very same ones Wang Bang had previously robbed of over a hundred wen. Hearing this, they felt a pang of frustration, but having already experienced Wang Bang’s tyranny firsthand, they didn’t dare run. In short, they’d just escaped the wolf’s den only to walk straight into the tiger’s mouth. Protection money—wasn’t that exactly what they usually extorted from others? Naturally, this led to conflicts with other gangs. They frequently got into brawls, beating each other so badly their brains would spill out. If they were beaten off, they’d just move to a different spot; if they won, they’d lord it over others for a while, only to wait for someone even more ruthless to come and snatch their share. Such was their fate—an endless cycle of life and death, with fighting never ceasing. These kinds of fights aren’t all about gang feuds. The common people are still the ones who suffer the most, because these guys are craftier than ghosts and faster than rabbits. When they see a challenger they can’t beat, they take off in a flash, leaving the remaining animosity to be borne by the very stalls they’re supposed to be protecting. That’s why almost every time there’s a change in gang territory, it’s accompanied by countless stalls being smashed—that’s a real, tangible loss, borne by the poor people themselves, not by these “clever” gangsters. Wang Bang said, “Don’t harbor any resentment—the protection fee system is for your own good. Only under my protection will the officials dare not exploit you; this is an improvement in governance. “Once the officials stop exploiting you, your burden will be lighter, and the harassment of small street vendors will naturally decrease. Everyone’s hostility will subside—this is what we call ‘harmony brings prosperity,’ and it’s also about the people’s livelihood, isn’t it?” The illiterate thugs exchanged glances, not quite understanding but impressed nonetheless. However, there was one thing these guys did understand: once they paid this “protection fee,” they’d be considered part of Young Master Wang’s crew, and the officials really wouldn’t dare to extort them anymore. Then they’d basically stop having to fight. After all, since they were part of Young Master Wang’s crew, other gangs wouldn’t dare to challenge them without good reason. This would indeed reduce the number of brawls and establish a certain set of unwritten rules. So, these guys handed over to Wang Bang the money they had originally intended to give to the officials. Old Liao was very skeptical. Why did the young master feel the need to demand protection money from everyone he met? He wouldn’t allow taking money from the rice-noodle vendor’s wife, but robbing these thugs was exactly the kind of thing Old Liao used to love doing, so he could only smile wryly and stay out of it. “Can we really get protection from the young master?” Their leader, Ma Jinsi, asked with concern. “Absolutely. From now on, you’re my ‘black gloves.’ There are some matters where it’s inconvenient for someone like me—a second-generation rich kid—to get involved, so I need you,” Wang Bang coaxed. “Shuzhou is about to change, and our grand undertaking is about to begin. We need stable order and a healthy business environment. So the heavy responsibility of saving Earth falls on your shoulders. I have high hopes for you all.” Everyone was impressed, though they didn’t quite understand what he meant. Wang Bang continued, “Every cause needs its defenders, and that’s what we are. You must follow me with the conviction that we will win.” “Victory!” the group shouted in unison. “Anyone willing to follow me and work hard will no longer be looked down upon or bullied in the future; they’ll be able to settle down, marry, and live a stable life,” Wang Bang added. “Anyone who believes that’s a fool,” the guys muttered, standing there with a carefree look on their faces. Still, it was kind of amusing to hear this little brat spouting such slogans. At least in their eyes, this playboy had thick legs and was easier to get along with than those crooked cops. Wang Bang continued, “I know you don’t believe me, but it doesn’t matter. This is an era where everyone’s just as bad as the next. After a while, you’ll find that I’m more loyal and easier to get along with than other thugs. I’ll exploit you more gently than the rest, and my legs are thicker than theirs. So you don’t need to believe me—just fear me, flatter me, and follow me to beat up others. Then we’ll talk about who’s loyal to whom.” “The magistrate’s son is formidable.” These fools thought the magistrate’s son was like a big thug—he spoke in a down-to-earth way. No doubt about it—humans have an innate need for someone to pledge allegiance to and to rely on one another. Wang Bang’s status made this process seem quite reasonable without the need for fighting or stirring up animosity. “So, Young Master, what should we do?” asked Ma Jinsi. “We need to establish industry rules and collect protection money from everyone on a wide scale. But don’t overcharge—one percent is enough,” Wang Bang said. “That little?” Ma Jinsi was taken aback. “You blockhead, you have to cast a wide net to catch big fish. This is called ‘small profits, high volume’—a steady, long-term approach. If we charge too much, we’ll alienate the common folk—and then what sets you apart from the other thugs?” Wang Bang stood on one leg on Old Liao’s shoulder. “I’ve been emphasizing this all along: we’re all thugs, but people will choose the least bad one to follow. So I need you to be the ‘least bad bad guy.’ You must uphold our code of honor. Anyone who dares to betray that code will have their livelihood destroyed. Once you collect the money, you must take responsibility—provide thorough after-sales service—and dare to fight resolutely and persistently against other criminal forces for the sake of the vendors’ interests.” Ma Jinsi exclaimed in terror, “Young Master, to dominate the entire market, we’ll have to fight countless tough battles. Not only will we make many enemies, but we’ll also face the risk of being arrested for causing trouble. If Magistrate Sima exiles us to the Northwest, we’re finished.” “If you keep spouting such nonsense, I’ll send your dog’s head to the Northwest to be trained by Zong E first.” Wang Bang snapped, “Don’t be afraid. With me backing you, how dare ordinary thugs and gangs oppose you? As for the authorities, if you truly follow my advice—look out for the common people’s interests and protect them—with their support, no government office would dare accuse you of acting illegally. That’s why I keep emphasizing that the top priority is to be responsible, to provide after-sales service, to care for the common people and the vendors, and to serve them well. If they like you, no one will dare say you’re in the wrong.” This time, Old Liao asked, “Will that really work?” “Why wouldn’t it work?” Wang Bang chuckled. “We’re the ‘Abacus Security Company.’ We collect reasonable security fees from the people, fight against criminal gangs, and ease the burden on the authorities. Why shouldn’t we earn money through our labor? People pay voluntarily—we’re not forcing anyone.” “That makes sense! You’re a force to be reckoned with, Young Master!” Everyone, including Old Liao, was completely won over by Da Bang’s pitch. Wang Bang concluded, “Don’t rush to flatter me—have you guys actually grasped the core of my plan?” Ma Jinsi laughed shrewdly, “We understand, sir. Starting today, we’re no longer street thugs or a gang. We’re called the Security Hall—just like the Sima family’s ‘Anqi Hall’—a business enterprise. The only difference is that they sell medicine, while we sell security services. They save lives and treat the wounded; we root out the strong and support the weak.” “You’re teachable, my lads. I have high hopes for you.” Wang Bang pointed at them with both hands. The thugs, now that they’d found a powerful patron, grinned like a bunch of rotten tomatoes. However, Old Liao had a vague feeling that the magistrate’s son was going to get such a thrashing from his father that he’d be jumping up and down in frustration…