Tough Siblings: Finding a Beggar for a Dad
Tyson was at his wits' end. An old beggar had moved into his home.
He lived right on the couch. Every time Tyson came home and opened the door, there was the gaunt, filthy old man, sprawled on the sofa, leisurely watching TV. The living room reeked of sourness—that was the beggar's smell.
It had been nearly a week.
At first, Tyson thought about beating him up and tossing him out. But hitting an old man... he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
His little sister, still in elementary school, said: "Brother, should we call the police?"
Tyson shook his head. "Call the police? I'd be turning myself in."
Before the old beggar had forced his way in, only Tyson and his sister had lived in this house.
After the accident, Tyson had dropped out of high school and supported his sister alone. Besides odd jobs, he occasionally swiped pork from the market or pocketed donation money from South Pole Temple. Recently, the old monk at South Pole Temple had gotten so fed up with being robbed that, despite being a man of the cloth, he actually called the police!
The police simply couldn't be bothered with Tyson. But if he called 110 now, he'd be walking right into their hands.
Fine. The house had plenty of room. Let the old man stay.
But the old beggar brought devastating disruption. The siblings soon discovered that this old man had mental issues too.
01
He was absolutely convinced he was the leader of the Beggars' Clan, pursued by enemies, and had to find a place to lay low.
For as long as he'd been there, the old beggar had been in a state of constant paranoia. The living room curtains had to be shut tight, the front door double-locked. At the slightest sound outside, the old beggar would grab his wooden stick, press his ear to the door, and order both siblings to keep quiet.
As for being pursued—when the old beggar first arrived, his leg had indeed been fractured and roughly bound. But in all likelihood, that leg had been broken by the previous household he'd mooched off.
At first, the siblings tried to ignore him, pretending he didn't exist. But they only had one living room—there was no missing him. Eventually, they had no choice but to listen to the old man's ravings.
Truth be told, Tyson forgot most of the old beggar's crazy talk the moment he turned away. The one thing he remembered was:
"All the masters in town are hunting me."
02
Why had an old beggar ended up in their home?
Because Tyson had been hatching a plan—he was going to hire himself a father.
Tyson was clearly not a qualified guardian, and the civil affairs bureau had issued a final ultimatum. They had already contacted the siblings' aunt in the provincial capital, a university professor with a good family environment and solid finances. In two weeks, they would send his sister to be adopted by the aunt.
But not Tyson.
Tyson was eighteen. Neither law nor common sense allowed an adult to adopt another adult.
His sister didn't want to be separated from her brother, and Tyson didn't want that either. So after discussing it, a perfectly reasonable plan was born:
Scrape together some money and hire a guardian.
Once they got past the civil affairs bureau, the two of them would keep living together.
Of course, after this was over, Tyson would have to find a more stable line of work. Delivering food, running packages—something long-term, at least enough to support his sister through college.
From the hiring market, Tyson contacted a few middle-aged men. Carefully selected, honest-looking, with families of their own. They had the shadow of a father. As long as the money was right, they wouldn't mind having two children on the side.
To scrape together the hiring fee, Tyson once again set his sights on... South Pole Temple's donation box.
Monks were supposed to be compassionate, but having the donation box emptied three times in one day was too much. The old monk exploded and soon caught Tyson red-handed, chasing him all the way down the mountain. Not even Buddha could save him now!
Ronnie the pork butcher came too, driving his van. So it was a greasy, obese middle-aged man and an old monk in robes, tearing after Tyson in a car, cursing all the way.
Without thinking, Tyson glanced back and felt that if they added a guy named Sandy to their lineup, they'd look like an expedition heading west for Buddhist scriptures.
It was early spring. The small town was cloaked in mist, drizzle falling steadily. As Tyson dashed across a bridge, he spotted a narrow path and slipped under the arch. Ronnie's van roared past overhead.
In a southern town, the underside of a bridge was damp. Tyson caught his breath, then noticed the sour smell in the air. Looking around, he realized someone was already there—a filthy old beggar lying on cardboard, staring at him lazily.
That was the beginning of Tyson's nightmare.
He fished out a few coins, tossed them to the beggar, and left. But within minutes of getting home, the beggar had appeared in the living room! As if he'd sprouted from the floorboards like a mushroom in the spring rain.
Tyson stammered, "H-how did you get in?!"
The old beggar said, "Followed you."
"How did I not notice?"
"Breath-holding technique."
"What? No—can you just leave? Hey, don't lie on the couch..."
When his sister came home from school, she pushed open the door with eager expectations, only to see a grubby old man sprawled on the sofa. She nearly fainted.
A few minutes later, she dragged Tyson into the kitchen.
"Brother, our family isn't exactly wealthy... but that doesn't mean we need to pick up a beggar for a dad."
"He came in on his own, and he won't leave." Tyson looked like he might cry.
"Got it. I'll handle it." She sighed, set down her school bag, and went to the kitchen for a cleaver.
Tyson barely managed to stop her. Who knew what this girl was learning in elementary school.
03
In one week, the civil affairs bureau would come to take his sister away.
Tyson was at his wits' end. He looked at the old beggar in the living room. They couldn't let the bureau see two siblings living with a beggar—they might even send his sister all the way to America.
But there had to be a solution.
Tyson swallowed his pride and, for the first time, actively discussed things with the old beggar. After hearing about the siblings' predicament, the old beggar fell silent for a moment, then nodded. He agreed to go somewhere else to lay low.
But with one condition.
He'd left some belongings under the bridge. Going out during the day wasn't safe.
The spring rain was still falling. The whole town was drenched.
Tyson went back to the bridge. He was there to retrieve the beggar's things—grab the junk left under the bridge, and the beggar would leave that night.
But to his surprise, there was nothing under the bridge at all.
Probably picked up by other beggars. That's what Tyson figured.
Just then, voices drifted down from the bridge above. Tyson could hear them clearly—it was the old monk and Ronnie the butcher.
They were talking about someone.
A missing leader of the Beggars' Clan.
04
The first thing Tyson felt was a dreamlike unreality.
This came from the fact that a greasy pork vendor and an octogenarian monk were having a serious discussion about the inner workings of the Beggars' Clan.
They were talking about the Clan's leadership transition.
"The old leader won't let go of the old ways. Isn't he forcing everyone to beg alongside him?"
"The members want to make a living, want to change trades. The only option is to drive him out."
"They've run him off, but everyone knows he'll come back on election day."
The old monk seemed to be rummaging through something. Tyson later realized those were the old beggar's belongings left under the bridge.
Ronnie insisted on turning these items over to the Beggars' Clan, so they could track the old guy down sooner. The old monk kept muttering that they shouldn't get involved, shouldn't get involved. The two argued as they walked away.
Tyson returned home in a daze.
The old beggar was still on the couch. The old man was full of energy—the moment the key turned in the lock, he grabbed his stick and hid behind the door. If it hadn't been Tyson coming in, the visitor would've gotten a club to the head.
Tyson looked at the old beggar. The old beggar looked at him.
05
His sister came home from school, eagerly pushed open the door, and saw the old beggar who should have been gone—still lying on their couch.
And her brother, after hesitating for a long time, said something even more shocking.
"From today on, he's going to be our guardian!"
A few minutes later, Tyson stood in the living room and watched his sister set down her school bag, walk to the kitchen, and come back out with a meat cleaver.
Tyson and the old beggar barely managed to stop her.
06
Rewinding to before his sister came home.
In Tyson's stunned gaze, the old beggar peeled back the hidden secrets of the small town.
His claim to be the Beggars' Clan leader was old news by now. According to him, this town harbored a complete martial world.
After the founding of the nation, all the major factions—the Hung Clan, the Shaolin—had to disband and undergo reeducation by the people's democratic dictatorship.