Returning to Lizhou.
Li Qi strode confidently, not at all like a wanted criminal.
Because truly, no one cared.
Half a month had passed since the incident; only a few low-level gang members had died—an occurrence that wasn't rare, though not exactly daily either.
Moreover, when Li Qi looked around, he saw about seventy to eighty similar wanted posters.
At the bottom rung, people had nothing but their miserable lives. When they needed to risk everything, the wealthy would stake their fortunes and possessions.
But for those at the bottom, besides their own lives, they had nothing else valuable. Thus, they could only gamble their sole possession—life itself—hoping for a turnaround.
However, it was laughable that despite the rows of wanted posters, Li Qi was certain none of these cases were officially recorded in the Lizhou City government offices.
Recording a case meant pursuing it to the end.
But if unrecorded, there was no need to manage it.
Most importantly, whether to record or not depended on the officials' moods.
If an officer was conscientious, things might be different, but given the chance to slack off, even the most responsible officers wouldn't last long.
Those who took responsibility bore more duties without additional rewards, instead facing more criticism and demands. Over time, who could endure this?
Fortunately, the constables possessed overwhelming power. The lower-class scoundrels fought among themselves but knew one thing: no matter how many died, they must hold back.
If they couldn't hold back, could those practicing garbage techniques stand against the constables?
In such a scenario, everyone would die.
The area where Paibo Gang resided was dirty, smelly, and narrow—not a desirable place. Besides the lower classes, few others would willingly visit.
Lizhou, seemingly crowded with millions of people, appeared congested, yet internally, it was clearly divided by invisible walls, isolating different groups.
Walking through it, Li Qi observed the city with an outsider's perspective.
"Truly rotten," Li Qi shook his head.
Unlike small county towns, upon entering Lizhou, one immediately sensed a decaying atmosphere.
Currently, Li Qi was wandering around the market.
Beside his feet lay two corpses.
They were likely beggars who froze or starved to death—a mother and child. The mother barely clothed, the child wrapped in tattered cloth, probably discarded to die.
Near the corpses, two fast horses whizzed past.
Two richly dressed youths laughed heartily on horseback, nearly colliding with Li Qi but indifferent, enjoying their reckless racing.
Though living in Lizhou for over two years, scenes like this still made Li Qi sigh.
Previously, pulling boats every day from dawn till dusk, exhausted, he hadn't realized how many wealthy people owned horses in Lizhou.
Indeed, standing at different positions, one sees different things.
Probably, his assumption that this world lacked livestock farming was just his perception.
It's merely that they, the lower-class scoundrels, had no right to see it, not that it didn't exist.
This place was worlds apart from the slums where Li Qi once lived.
Never having visited before, now coming here, he realized the vast disparity. Normally, coming here would invite disdain, and some patrolling guards might chase you away.
Now, wearing decent clothes, he could walk naturally without being pointed at.
This trip to the street was solely for buying small gifts.
Yet, many scenes he hadn't seen before.
Li Qi bought numerous items, filling his basket—gifts for his brothers, Shen Shuibei, and Old Horse—but spent less than one thousand coins (qian), less than the value of his clothes.
Nevertheless, practical items like sewing kits, durable coarse cloth, wooden toys, and crucially, medicine for bruises, inflammation, and pain relief—all necessities for haulers.
Apart from that, he didn't buy food—it wasn't necessary. Food could be purchased later; practical items were better as gifts.
With these purchases, Li Qi carried his basket into the familiar alleys.
Reaching his former home, few people remained; most had gone to pull boats.
Lower-class folks worked tirelessly, with little rest. Those staying home during the day were usually injured or sick. Sometimes, even illness couldn't stop them, or there'd be no rice for the pot.
But isn't this why gangs existed?
With a gang, others could help cover for you, preventing you from bearing everything alone.
A gang's unity and cohesion stemmed from this.
Thus, some who were ill received support from other brothers, allowing them to recuperate properly.
When Li Qi arrived, some injured or sick haulers were at home tending to salted pork prepared during spring slaughters and dried fish caught and preserved.
Though plentiful, these provisions supported seven to eight hundred people annually. In emergencies, they'd sell them for money, so normally, they seldom enjoyed meat.
Yes, though there were only two to three hundred haulers, they also had families, children, and wives. Though these family members contributed little labor, they still needed to eat, making life tight.
Seeing Li Qi return, the haulers and their families were clearly delighted.
"Brother Li!?" They exclaimed in surprise, joyfully rushing over.
About five or six haulers, along with some family members, a dozen people gathered: "Brother Li, why are you back? Uncle Six said you wouldn't return until year-end!"
"Brother Li's back!"
"Brother Li is wearing new clothes!"
"Where did you go, Brother Li? Uncle Six said you went far away. I've never left the city. What does the outside look like?"
Surrounded by a cacophony of voices, Li Qi felt a sense of familiarity. He clapped his hands: "Calm down, calm down. Let's go back. Don't block the way. Someone go notify Uncle Six. We'll go back and talk slowly!"
Among the haulers, Li Qi still held prestige. With a clap, they quieted down, albeit still excited, and escorted him back.
Upon returning, Li Qi began distributing the items he bought.
Children were happy, the haulers' wives even happier, while the haulers felt somewhat embarrassed but accepted them.
Because Li Qi said he had money.
So they believed him.
Shortly after, Uncle Six returned as well.