Chapter 5: Splitting-Hanging Boxing, Pear-Blossom Spear

On the table were a few small dishes of food, plus a bowl of scrambled eggs, giving off an enticing aroma.

In front of Wang Dou sat a large bowl of steaming hot plain white noodles, sprinkled with some emerald-green chopped scallions — truly a fragrance that struck the nose. This was the most sumptuous meal the Wang family had had in all this time.

But looking at the white noodles before himself, then looking over at Madam Zhong and Xie Xiuniang, who were eating black-flour steamed buns with the side dishes, he saw that both of them looked perfectly at ease, as if letting Wang Dou eat well was only right and proper.

Wang Dou stood up and said, “I ate quite well on the way back. Mother, how could I finish such a huge bowl of noodles? Help me eat some.”

He took two bowls, picked up a large portion of noodles from his own bowl with his chopsticks and transferred it into each, then handed them to Madam Zhong and Xie Xiuniang.

Xie Xiuniang was very happy. She accepted it and said softly, “Thank you, Brother.”

Madam Zhong smiled, said nothing, and took the bowl.

The family ate happily together, the noodles accompanied by eggs and vegetables.

Madam Zhong remembered something and said to Xie Xiuniang, “Xiu’er, I hear your mother’s family has been having a hard time lately. One of these days, take a few sheng of white flour and a bolt of cloth back with you. We’re all one family — help where we can.”

Xie Xiuniang said happily, “Thank you, Mother.”

Although the Wang family was already very poor now, Xie Xiuniang’s family was even poorer. Her parents had raised eight children in all, but two younger brothers had starved to death several years earlier, and one older brother and two older sisters had all been given away. Now her family lived on chaff and wild greens every day. Compared to them, the present Wang family counted as rich gentry — at least they could still eat white flour.

Xie Xiuniang could already imagine how glorious it would be when she returned to her maiden home. In a place like Bao’anzhou, when visiting relatives and friends, packing a bamboo basket with a few sheng of white flour, some sugar goods, and a bolt of cloth was already an extremely expensive gift, enough to draw the envy of onlookers.

And Madam Zhong was a person of strong pride — even when her own family was struggling, she still thought of helping others. Usually, she and Xie Xiuniang wore patched clothes at home, but whenever they went out, they made sure to change into fine clothes, precisely so that others would not look down on the present Wang family.

The three of them talked, though Wang Dou mostly listened. Madam Zhong sighed, “A few days ago I went to the prefectural city. The price of grain and rice has gone up again — eight qian per dou for millet, and even grain chaff costs one qian per dou. I saw many families who couldn’t afford grain, men and women starving to death by the roadside.”

Xie Xiuniang added from the side, “Yes, now in our village a catty of pork costs over two hundred wen, and even a single duck egg costs twenty wen.”

Wang Dou sighed inwardly. Bao’anzhou was a fertile place, with relatively abundant water and milder drought compared to other areas. The current prices were still decent. From his understanding of history, by the sixteenth year of Chongzhen, even in the Jiangnan region, prices would rise to unimaginable levels — one dou of rice costing two taels of silver, eventually even rising to six taels; a duck egg thirty wen; a chicken over a thousand wen; while a young servant girl cost only twelve hundred wen. In chaotic times, the cheapness of human life and the hardship of the common people were plain to see.

Madam Zhong and Xie Xiuniang talked about various rumors. Madam Zhong sighed constantly, while also feeling grateful that her own family still had food to eat. Common folk are always content — as long as they still have a mouthful of food, their hearts are satisfied.

After the meal, Xie Xiuniang went to wash the bowls. Watching her thin, slight figure, Wang Dou’s mother said, “This child is quite hardworking, but her frame is a bit weak. I’m afraid she’ll have difficulty in childbirth later on.”

Xie Xiuniang had grown up in the Wang household from childhood. Like other farm women, she had the traditional virtues of frugality and diligence — plowing and reaping in the fields, chopping firewood and cutting grass at home, boiling tea and cooking meals, washing clothes and raising pigs — she did everything with all her heart. On this point, Wang Dou’s mother was satisfied.

However, she felt Xie Xiuniang’s health was not very good, especially her small chest and thin buttocks, which displeased her somewhat. In her view, a woman should have a full bosom so the child would have ample milk in the future, and large hips so childbirth would be easy. A small chest and thin buttocks — that was trouble.

In truth, in ancient times, large breasts and full hips were considered beautiful, and when taking a wife, people looked more at the woman’s figure than her face — there was reason in this. In ancient times, child mortality was high and raising children was hard. Wang Dou’s mother had given birth to five children, but most had died young, leaving only Wang Dou as the sole surviving son. So seeing Xie Xiuniang’s condition, she could not help but worry.

But though she spoke this way, she usually treated Xie Xiuniang quite well. When the village wives talked among themselves, they were all envious, thinking Xie Xiuniang had found a good mother-in-law’s family. On this point, Xie Xiuniang understood in her heart as well.

Wang Dou said, “If possible, we should give her more nourishment.”

Madam Zhong nodded, but then sighed again.

After dinner, his mother Madam Zhong went back to weaving in the loom room. Wang Dou, in his room, carefully studied two books by the light of a dim oil lamp — the *Jixiao Xinshu* and the *Lianbing Shiji*, both written by Grandfather Qi. Though published in the Jiajing era, these books were not something ordinary families could easily obtain. His ancestor Wang Hu had only managed to collect a set by chance, and they had been passed down generation after generation as a family heirloom.

Although the Wang family came from a military household background, they could also be considered a family of farming and scholarship. When Wang Dou was young, his grandfather Wang Ting had taught him to read, hand in hand. But the old Wang Dou had no interest in military texts; the present Wang Dou, naturally, treasured them like precious gems.

After he had read for a while, Xie Xiuniang came in carrying a basin of hot water and bent down to wash Wang Dou’s feet. Wang Dou gently stroked her hair. Xie Xiuniang lifted her face and smiled at him. In the lamplight, he could see the unnatural pallor of her face. Wang Dou felt a worry in his heart — could this be some illness? When he had the means later, he must find a physician to examine her.

After washing, Xie Xiuniang carried the water out, then went to the courtyard to tidy the farming tools and fertilizer.

From the next room came the unceasing sound of his mother weaving. Wang Dou lost the mood to read and began pacing back and forth inside the house.

……

The next day, at first light, Wang Dou got up. He took his long spear and went to the back courtyard. There were a few vegetable plots there, and also a well. In recent years, more and more wells in Xinzhuang had dried up; only this well in the Wang family’s back courtyard still had abundant water, and the water was clear and cold, making many villagers envious.

The air in this world was so much better than in later ages. A fresh breeze blew over, lifting Wang Dou’s spirits.

He took off his upper garment and practiced a set of boxing, his movements generating a vigorous wind, fierce and powerful. When he struck with full force, the muscles all over his body knotted up like slabs of rock. This boxing was called “Pigua Quan” — Splitting-Hanging Boxing — a popular style in Qi’s army. Back then, Grandfather Qi had highlighted it in the boxing chapter of the *Jixiao Xinshu*, noting it was the sharpest for actual combat.

After finishing the entire set, Wang Dou’s upper body was already drenched in sweat, and his muscles glistened slick and smooth. Still not stopping, he took up his long spear and assumed a starting stance.

The Yang Family Pear-Blossom Spear, originating in the Song dynasty. Grandfather Qi had praised it as unbeatable across the realm and widely promoted it in the army.

Grasping the spear, parrying, thrusting, seizing, sweeping… the spear moved like a swimming dragon. Wang Dou’s gaze was focused. The skills of this body were his and his family’s greatest guarantee of survival in these chaotic times. Ever since arriving in this world and recognizing his surroundings, he had practiced diligently every day without rest.

Only when Xie Xiuniang came in and called him to breakfast did Wang Dou stop.

Breakfast was black-flour baked flatbread, accompanied by a large bowl of clear soup. The taste, of course, was not as good as last night’s white flour, but the advantage was in quantity — after all, from today onward, heavy farm labor began, and one could not work on an empty stomach.

As they ate, they discussed the day’s farm work. Autumn sowing required plowing the fields, but the Wang family’s plow ox had long been sold. The twenty-some mu of land they now had could not support an ox anyway, so they had to rent one from the village head, Jiang An. To seize the farming season, they even needed two oxen to pull the plow, so the plowing would go quickly. The rent was no small sum. That fellow Jiang An actually refused silver cash and insisted on being paid in white flour.

Also, the family’s iron plow had been looted by the Tatars several years ago, and all these years they had been unable to spare the money to buy a new plow — they had to rent that too. Adding up these several rents caused Madam Zhong great heartache. She had considered forgoing ox and plow and having the family dig the ground with hoes instead, but Wang Dou vetoed it — aside from working themselves to death, who knew what year they would finish digging.

The rental of the plow ox and plow had already been arranged by Madam Zhong with the village head Jiang An. After the meal, Wang Dou followed his mother to the Jiang household. Jiang An, however, was not there — he had gone to the prefectural city, they said, and only his family was home. They collected the plow ox and plow. Wang Dou carried the plow and drove the ox; Madam Zhong carried the wheat seed on her back; Xie Xiuniang, carrying two baskets of manure fertilizer, followed closely behind mother and son as they went out the door. To accumulate this manure fertilizer, she had spent a full year gathering dung.

The sky was still early, but on the main street and alleys, villagers heading out to the fields were already appearing one after another. When they saw Madam Zhong, greetings like “Good morning, Fourth Aunt!” rang out from time to time. Compared to Wang Dou, Madam Zhong’s popularity and reputation within Xinzhuang were quite good.

There were also some who, seeing Wang Dou behind Madam Zhong, instinctively wanted to mock him, but upon seeing Wang Dou’s cold expression, the words in their bellies shrank back. They secretly wondered — this Big Fool Wang had been acting a bit strange these days.

Just as they were about to leave the village gate, a young woman hurried past the three of them. People pointed at her from time to time. The young woman held her head high, as if scorning the gossip of others, but her pale face and the trace of fear in her eyes betrayed the weakness and unease within her heart.

Xie Xiuniang, behind Wang Dou, said softly, “Sister Xu is truly pitiful…”

This young woman was the one who had nearly bumped into Wang Dou the day before. Wang Dou knew her name was Xu Yue’e, the daughter of Xu Kuan, the village tax captain. She was eighteen, considered quite attractive in the village, and had been about to marry, but all that had ended the previous month.

On the twenty-third day of the seventh month, the Later Jin army had stormed and taken Bao’anzhou city, and their forces had spread out to raid all over Bao’an. Xu Yue’e had not managed to retreat into the village in time and was captured by Later Jin soldiers. Two days later, she was fortunate enough to escape back. But the villagers all gossiped, saying: captured by the Tatars — how could she possibly have escaped unmolested? She must have been defiled.

Under the swirling rumors and slander, the groom’s family soon came to demand the engagement be broken off, willing even to forfeit the betrothal gifts. Her father, Xu Kuan, was naturally furious. He was a man of some standing in the village — how could he endure such humiliation? Every day he raged at home, cursing Xu Yue’e for bringing shame on the family, asking why she did not just go and die. The cold stares and censure of the villagers quickly withered this once-proud girl, yet before outsiders, her head seemed to lift even higher.

Hearing the whispered slanders and cold words drifting from around him, Wang Dou snorted and said, “Men who cannot protect their own wives and children, yet turn their anger on a weak woman — what kind of creatures are they?”

Hearing Wang Dou’s words, Xie Xiuniang behind him widened her eyes, not quite understanding, but Madam Zhong turned her head and glanced at Wang Dou with approval.