Chapter Forty-One: Born a Demon

The opening line of the Three Character Classic is, "At birth, man’s nature is inherently good." Every newborn child is pure and kind-hearted, yet there are those who, when you encounter them, when your life intersects with theirs, you simply cannot believe that such a person was ever good. Their actions, their methods of dealing with others, make you feel as if you are facing a born demon—faithless, immoral, daring to trample every rule of this world, cold and ruthless to the point of outrage. And Chai Yan was evidently just such a person.

From appearances alone, no one could possibly associate him with evil. He had a fair face, tall and handsome stature, a deep voice, and when he smiled, the slight tilt at the corner of his mouth gave him a mischievous charm. Everyone meeting him for the first time was drawn in by his looks and his voice; that sunny exterior made him stand out among the crowd of pimps, giving his modest enterprise a tremendous advantage.

For him, attracting girls was an effortless endeavor. A few sweet words and those naive young women would willingly fall under his sway, becoming tools for his profit.

In his childhood, Chai Yan lived a comfortable life. His family was not fabulously wealthy, but in the small city where they resided, they were well-off enough to ensure he never wanted for food or clothing.

As a boy, Chai Yan displayed a fondness for animals, and outsiders saw in him a compassionate child. What they did not know, however, was that he was not drawn by the animals' cuteness or companionship, but by the pitiful cries they made when abused. Chai Yan found it amusing to make the animals howl, delighting in their frantic, desperate struggles. To outsiders, he was merely a child weeping over lost pets, appearing pitiable and sweet.

Gradually, his parents discovered his cruel behavior. Shocked by his abuse of animals, they stopped buying him any new pets. Yet this did not change him; with no animals to torment, he turned to bullying other children. The younger kids around him became his new toys.

Leading a group of peers, he would seek out those easy to bully, beating and teasing them. Of course, this pastime earned him many beatings himself, as parents brought their bullied children to his family’s door. No matter how his parents reasoned with him or threatened him, nothing changed, and Chai Yan’s parents were left in constant distress.

By the time he entered middle school, Chai Yan had lost all interest in the monotonous school life, and his parents’ scolding had no effect. He began to seek out like-minded friends in society, using school only as a venue to collect "protection fees."

Eventually, Chai Yan stopped attending school altogether. His parents, exhausted and defeated, stopped caring. At this point, Chai Yan had truly come into his own, a student of the university of life.

By now, Chai Yan was renowned in his small circle for his good looks. Girls frequently approached him, but this also brought him plenty of enemies. Often, gangs of hoodlums would come after him, furious that he had seduced their girlfriends. Chai Yan, however, was not particularly adept at fighting and could not match those who made brawling their profession.

Yet he never feared these would-be challengers, for he was protected by a notorious boss. Chai Yan coveted the boss’s reputation, while the boss valued Chai Yan’s talent for attracting women. Thus, Chai Yan became one of his men.

His task was simple: recruit girls, make them his slaves, and earn money for himself—and for the boss. To put it plainly, he was a pimp. Thanks to his tall, handsome appearance, business flourished; the boss earned handsomely and Chai Yan became his favorite.

No longer did any small-time thugs dare to provoke him. He had earned a name for himself in the underworld, no longer called Chai Yan, but "Matchstick," known throughout as "the matchstick man who sells girls."

As the saying goes, the bird that sticks its head out gets hit. The boss’s arrogance soon landed him in prison. But his downfall was not necessarily a bad thing for Chai Yan, who, with the boss gone, naturally ascended to become the new leader.

Chai Yan’s business grew ever larger. The small city could no longer satisfy his ambitions, so he led his brothers to Ming City, the provincial capital, seeking a broader stage for his enterprise.

As a boss now, Chai Yan no longer personally recruited girls. Those brought in could not be subdued with mere charm; he would choose only the most outstanding girls for himself, while most would never experience his touch.

The methods he used to control the girls, as he himself put it, were a combination of stick and carrot. Those lured in who refused to obey were confined, beaten, even repeatedly assaulted until they submitted, or at least pretended to. This was the "stick." To keep them under control long-term, he needed to offer them some incentive—not sweet words, for he no longer had time for that—but drugs. By addicting them, they became dependent on him for their supply; this was the "carrot."

With this mix of cruelty and reward, Chai Yan’s team grew rapidly, soon establishing a foothold in Ming City. Yet as his tree grew taller, it drew the wind. His booming business aroused envy among rivals, and envy can be deadly.

Competitors launched attacks, sabotaged his operations, assaulted his men, and poached his girls. Chai Yan retaliated in kind: when his men were beaten, he struck back; when girls were stolen, he reclaimed them. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth—he made sure his rivals knew he was not someone to be trifled with.

Thus, Chai Yan’s reputation spread throughout Ming City. The name "Brother Matchstick" was soon infamous. To further build his brand, he had his girls tattoo matchstick flowers on their arms, declaring his ownership.

For a time, Ming City bloomed with matchstick flowers everywhere. As night fell, these alluring, sexy girls became a dazzling sight, drawing even out-of-town visitors eager to sample the famed "matchstick flowers."

Unfortunately, Chai Yan forgot the reason his predecessor had ended up behind bars. His ostentatious ways fueled not only his rivals' envy, but also attracted another enemy—one he could never hope to defeat, for their name was "police."

On one front, the police launched meticulous investigations into Chai Yan’s operations; on another, his surviving rivals secretly searched for ways to bring him down. Lost in the intoxication of his own triumphs, Chai Yan failed to notice the eyes watching him from the shadows, instead expanding his business even more aggressively.

He lured girls not only online, but bought them outright, recruited them under the guise of company employment, all to keep his supply plentiful. To control them, he purchased drugs in bulk, becoming Ming City’s largest buyer. Because of him, drug addicts could not find supplies elsewhere and had to rely on his business.

Chai Yan was not entirely fearless. He didn’t worry about his rivals—he was now one of Ming City’s top figures, and none dared provoke him openly, only sneaking about in secret. But the police were another matter; he knew he could never cross them. Thus, he found himself a patron—Xu Wei, the director of the Mingtan precinct. With this backing, he believed himself secure and untouchable.

Reality proved otherwise. Sometimes, a patron is less useful than a sun umbrella, unable to provide even basic protection. As the police investigation neared completion, bolstered by rivals’ assistance, they amassed evidence of Chai Yan’s crimes and decided to bring down the entire organization.

To be fair, his patron did provide some help, enabling Chai Yan to escape before the police closed the net. Yet his painstakingly built empire was destroyed, and only a handful of loyal followers escaped with him. The rest were captured and brought to justice.

Fleeing from Ming City, Chai Yan looked upon his empty existence with tears in his eyes. He dared not remain in the country, and so, with no other option, escaped to Annam. In this unfamiliar land, stripped of his former glory and unable to resume his old trades, he drowned his sorrows in drink, wasting his life away.

His days became a haze of drunkenness and dissipation, spent among local prostitutes. Eventually, Chai Yan himself became addicted to drugs, and in his small courtyard, he and his men would summon the prostitutes to indulge together.

Yet fate rarely closes all doors. Chai Yan ultimately encountered a turning point, brought by two people: Jiang Bin, a man he met in Annam, and another, a mysterious self-styled "Teacher Song" who contacted him proactively through Juchat.