Chapter 41: Among All Men Today, None Are Like Brothers

Jing is a young lad of fifteen, half a head shorter than Heifu. His nose and cheeks are covered in freckles, and he has a pair of big eyes. Right now his eyebrows are raised as he excitedly examines his very first weapon.

It is a bronze sword about nine inches long, with a ring-shaped pommel. Jing grips it and slashes at an aerial root dangling from a great banyan tree; the thin root snaps cleanly at the sound of the cut.

He can't help but exclaim in praise, "Elder Brother Zhong, this sword is truly sharp! How much did it cost?"

"Just over a hundred coins or so."

Heifu carries two grass carp bought at the village market in his left hand, and a heavy sack slung over his right shoulder. He speaks lightly of it, but Jing sticks out his tongue. "Converted into rice, that would feed me for over a month."

In this era, although ironware is already widely used in agriculture and handicrafts, iron weaponry remains quite immature. In the State of Qin especially, there is a strong preference for bronze weapons, because when it comes to standard-issue military arms, one must consider not only performance but also cost. The Jiang-Han region has abundant copper mines; using near-perfect casting techniques to mass-produce bronze weapons is far more economical than slowly hammering and tempering iron ones.

Even so, young lads in the village with no income still yearn for a bronze short sword but cannot get one. After acquiring his weapon, Jing keeps drawing it from its scabbard, utterly enamored, and says smugly, "Let's see who dares provoke me now! I'll give him a taste of my sword!"

"What nonsense are you spouting!"

Heifu's brow furrows. He is already beginning to regret buying the sword. This younger brother of his has a rash temperament; the slightest disagreement and he's always arguing with people. Sooner or later he'll stir up trouble. He scolds him:

"I bought you this sword because you are already fifteen and will come of age before long. The sword is a gentleman's martial preparation, used for self-defense. It can be used to resist brigands and protect the home, but it must not be used for brawling and violence. You must know, the statutes clearly state: if two people fight, the authorities will send those who engage in private brawls to hard labor. As for biting off another's nose, tearing an ear, or breaking fingers, those are punished even more severely with the shaving of the beard. If blades are drawn, the punishment is far graver."

Jing gave an "oh" and obediently put the sword away.

But a moment later, after passing two young village girls who pointed at them and whispered and giggled, he said cheerfully again, "Elder Brother Zhong, you don't know, but now the young men in the hamlet all look up to me. Because I am your younger brother, they crowd around and make me tell them the tale of how you subdued three bandits with your bare hands and seized their blades. Those two neighbor girls just now were also listening, dumbstruck. They all said you never used to be like this. Look at the way they gaze at you now... hehehe."

In truth, when Jing first heard people talking about the rumors of Heifu, he nearly dropped his jaw in shock. Over the past ten-plus years, Elder Brother Zhong's impression on him had been one of few words, silent and taciturn. Though he had some strength, he was far from a "fierce warrior."

Who would have guessed that the very first time Elder Brother Zhong went out for corvée service, he would become famous throughout the county? Jing went from initial astonishment to later feeling proud, and took the initiative to boast about it.

"Elder Brother Zhong, when will you teach me the skills you used to capture those bandits?"

Jing was growing a little impatient; he always felt that Elder Brother Zhong must have secretly learned martial arts from somewhere.

"We'll talk about it later."

Heifu had no time to pay him attention, for he was constantly greeting fellow villagers in the hamlet.

To think that when he left here for corvée service over a month ago, who was willing to ask him a single extra word? But now, whether man or woman, old or young, anyone they met on the road would stop him for a warm chat, their manner cordial. Even the once-haughty Field Clerk and Platoon Elder, upon meeting him, would earnestly and warmly invite him to their homes for a visit...

Heifu had no choice but to respond to each one. His mother had once told him that in hamlet life, the most important thing is neighborly harmony; you must never let the neighbors think you are arrogant or look down on them. Village folk are all simple and honest, but also petty-minded. The smaller the place, the truer this is.

His home was at the very end of Sunset Hamlet, so Heifu passed by the doorways of forty or fifty households along the way, calling out thirty or forty greetings and politely declining countless invitations, both genuine and feigned, before finally managing to shuffle his way to his own house.

Arriving here, the feeling of homecoming grew even stronger for Heifu.

Heifu's home was on a standard First-Rank Knight's residential plot, a bit larger than an ordinary common soldier's house, yet far smaller than those of the Hamlet Chief or Field Clerk. But the open space outside the house was not wasted; twenty-odd mulberry trees were planted there, though the leaves had long since fallen, leaving only bare branches.

In springtime, these mulberry trees were the apple of their mother's eye. Whenever that season came, the old woman would take turns with her daughter-in-law getting up in the night to add mulberry leaves for the voraciously growing silkworms. And so the whole night through, the house would be filled with the rustling sound of silkworms eating mulberry leaves, like a gentle breeze and fine drizzle... Mother never let her three sons do this work, complaining they were all clumsy and couldn't properly tend the spring silkworms. In truth, Heifu knew, it was because she couldn't bear to make them work.

A homestead of five mu, planted with mulberry trees, so that those of fifty may be clothed in silk... A pity that Mencius was ultimately too idealistic. Raw silk and the woven silk cloth, the poor could not bear to wear themselves; they would rather take it to the market to sell, or even use it directly as currency, trading it for more practical farming tools and salt. In Heifu's memory, his mother was also in her fifties now. In this lifetime, who knows how many bolts of cloth she had woven, yet she had never worn silk on her own body.

In summer, this little grove of mulberry trees became the domain of his younger brother Jing and that pair of nephew and niece. He would bring the two little rascals around three or four times a day, picking clean every mulberry from the branches and the ground, not letting the turtledoves and neighbors get a cheap treat. The deep purple berries, red to the point of blackness, were sweet and tart, a rare snack for the hamlet folk. In a famine year, they were even a family's hope to stave off hunger.

Skirting the bare mulberry trees, they came to the outside of the courtyard wall. The wall was about six or seven chi high, its yellow mud mixed with straw exposed, with no plaster coating. The wooden gate was low and squat, who knows how many years since it was last repaired. Battered by wind and rain, it had cracked open many fine fissures, and the lacquer had mostly peeled away, leaving it black in patches and white in patches, a great painted face that looked quite shabby.

"Didn't I tell Elder Brother to repair the courtyard wall and gate after he brought the money back?"

Heifu frowned again.

Jing said nonchalantly, "Elder Brother Zhong, you know what Elder Brother Bo is like. He thinks that for money that doesn't need to be spent, he won't part with a single coin. All that money you had him bring back is with Mother. He says it's for building you a new house, and he's afraid there still won't be enough then, so how would he dare spend it on fixing up the old house?"

Heifu, however, had not considered so much. If things went smoothly, he would soon take up his post at Huyang Pavilion several dozen li away, not returning home for ten days or half a month at a time. Whether a new house was built or not made no difference.

At that moment, Jing was already knocking on the gate and shouting, "Mother, Elder Brother Bo, I've brought Elder Brother Zhong back!"

Soon, the gate opened in response. Zhong walked out with a face full of smiles, but then scolded Jing, "I sent you to meet him, and you walked the whole way with empty hands. What kind of behavior is that? At your age, how can you still be so thoughtless?"

As he spoke, he took half the things from Heifu's hands. Jing merely stuck out his tongue and was the first to dart through the gate, shouting loudly, "Mother, Sister-in-Law Qiu, Elder Brother Zhong is back, and he bought fish! Let's eat something good today..."

Heifu and Zhong shook their heads helplessly. This third brother had been spoiled since childhood and did not understand the hardships of life.

Their family home was much like a rural farmhouse of later ages: one dwelling with two inner chambers, divided into a front and back courtyard.

Pushing the gate open and entering the front courtyard, the first thing they saw was a kennel. A big yellow dog, catching a familiar scent, had long been barking excitedly. Now it bounded over in a single leap, tongue lolling, circling around Heifu as it walked.

Zhong said, "This yellow dog just loves being close to you. The month or so you were gone, it was listless, just lying there not wanting to move."

"That's only natural. I was the one who brought it back in the first place."

Heifu also smiled and stroked the yellow fur on the back of its neck. The big yellow dog narrowed its eyes in utter contentment, its tail wagging nonstop.

Although people in these times all eat dog meat, a family's watchdog absolutely cannot be eaten. As the saying goes, "One who has no dog in front and no pig behind is a menial." That is to say, if your front courtyard cannot support a dog and your back courtyard cannot support a pig, it means this household is so poor it clinks, fit only to work as hired hands.

The pigsty in the back courtyard had been empty for a long time, but the big yellow dog in the front courtyard had been raised for nearly five years. It had grown up playing with the Heifu brothers since they were small, and had diligently guarded the gate for many years, counting as a member of the family.

"Second Uncle!"

As they spoke, two clear child voices rang out in the courtyard. A pair of young children came running over, each trying to outpace the other.

The one running in front was a boy with his hair tied in two loops, about six years old. Barefoot and filthy all over, he was at least finally wearing a newly altered pair of short trousers and no longer had to run around with his bottom bare.

The one running behind was a little girl with bangs neat across her brow and her back hair tied in a braid, not yet five years old. She wore an outfit clearly far too big for her, running in a stumbling, unsteady gait. Seeing that her older brother ahead wasn't waiting for her at all, she was on the verge of tears.

These were Zhong's children, Heifu's nephew and niece, named "Yang" and "Yue."

They ran over one after the other. The boy was first to collide into Heifu's left leg, tilting his head back and laughing proudly. The girl arrived later, but unwilling to be outdone, wrapped her slender little arms tightly around Heifu's right leg...

PS: To answer some readers' questions from the last chapter: manure fertilizer was already understood in the Warring States period. "In famine years, they manure their fields but it is not enough" — Mencius, Teng Wen Gong I.

(End of chapter)