At that time, people had all developed hearts of stone. Doing this was not necessarily wrong, but after all, humans are emotional creatures. There are people as sentimental as Robert Thompson, who would do many things just because of a single glance. At that moment, he knew he had to save her, no matter what.

However, his father would never agree to let him do such a thing, so there was no way he could have money on him to save that girl.

Robert Thompson, young and impetuous at the time, took off his hat, displayed his unique skills, and slid down the teahouse wall like a gecko, blocking the human trafficker’s path.

The trafficker was startled, as it had been a long time since anyone had tried to stop him in the street. Naturally, he didn’t want anyone to interfere, because the money from a street rescue, for the sake of righteousness, was twenty percent less than what the brothel would pay. He cursed his bad luck under his breath. So early in the morning—where did this jinx come from to block his fortune?

But seeing the skills of these gentlemen, and the momentum with which they climbed down from the teahouse, he knew these were not people to be trifled with.

So he put on a smile and tried to smooth things over. Robert Thompson also knew that this was one of the “outer eight trades,” and that their own family must have some connection with them. There could not be open conflict between the outer eight trades, or it would cause discord among all the people of the Old Nine Gates, so he didn’t dare to simply get rid of the trafficker. They haggled over the price, and the trafficker named an exorbitant sum, meaning: just give up, you can’t save this girl.

At that time, Robert Thompson had no other choice. He couldn’t ask his father for money, and he couldn’t just snatch the girl away. If he wanted to save her, he had to pay that price. But he definitely didn’t have that kind of money.

The trafficker said to Robert Thompson, “This girl was picked out by Madam Ping’er for her brothel. If you can’t pay, then please step aside. If you really care about her, why not go light the lamp tonight? If you’re gentle with her on her first night, that’ll be her good fortune.”

Robert Thompson was already burning with anger and said to him, “I have the money, but let me give you a word of advice: this is ill-gotten wealth. Such a huge fortune—think carefully if you can bear the consequences. If you think you can, I’ll get you the money. But I warn you, be careful that your riches don’t burn you.”

The negotiation broke down. The trafficker didn’t believe anyone would pay so much to ransom a little maid, so he agreed.

Robert Thompson’s men kept an eye on the trafficker, who was to make another round through the busy market. Robert Thompson had to get the money ready within that round. He rushed home, put on all his gear, and rode a fast horse to the western outskirts. Then he galloped back, now covered in yellow dust and carrying three gold hairpins.

That girl later became Robert Thompson’s wife. She bore him three sons, but died of illness at the age of thirty-two. In those short, happy years, she was always in Robert Thompson’s arms and never suffered again. After her death, Robert Thompson became wild and unrestrained.

As a woman in that society, I think she could already be considered happy. Perhaps because of this, women flocked to him afterward, but none could ever stir the feelings in his heart that had already died. The one who lived in his heart forever was that plain noodle-stall girl. Where did this feeling come from? We cannot know—maybe it was in that one call of “brother,” maybe it was on the horse galloping back to the city. But a man like this was the greatest fortune for the girl, and the greatest misfortune for all other women in the world.

Robert Thompson never remarried, lived to 102, and was buried with his wife after death. His coffin was a bit taller than his wife’s, so that the girl who had waited so many years could once again lean on his shoulder and listen to his gentle opera singing.

Half Thompson (with Half Thompson portrait illustration)

Half Thompson, Mr. Thompson was the most resourceful among the Upper Three Gates. He was disabled—both his legs were broken by his companions when he was a child and left in a vat for a week, surviving only by drinking coffin water. After that, his legs were ruined, so he had to sit on a rush mat and use two bricks in his hands to support himself. Perhaps this experience traumatized him, so he became one of the most ruthless and vicious people in the Nine Gates. No one knows how many wives he beat to death. Half Thompson was extremely suspicious and trusted no one. There were street rumors that he slept in ancient tombs at night, keeping company with corpses, saying that the living were far scarier than the dead.

Even so, Half Thompson’s tomb-robbing skills were unmatched. His hands were incredibly strong and nimble, and his short stature allowed him to climb trees faster than most people and get into places others couldn’t, retrieving things that were nearly impossible to obtain.

But strangely, just like Robert Thompson, what people talked about most was not his exploits, but a story of affection between him and his sister-in-law.

His eldest brother died young, and both parents were gone, so from his teens it was his sister-in-law who took care of him. At that ignorant age, she was both his sister-in-law and his mother. Their childhood was full of hardship; to raise him and his brother’s child, his sister-in-law suffered greatly. Growing up in such an environment, Half Thompson developed a sensitive heart, and perhaps his extreme personality came from this.

Once, his sister-in-law was doing laundry at someone else’s house. She accidentally tore a qipao and was beaten deaf in one ear. Afterward, that house was completely burned down. It was an unsolved case, but everyone said it was probably Half Thompson who did it.