Chapter 10: Talent

Chen Sheng's grandfather had once been a personal soldier under General Qi Jiguang, and his single-saber techniques were battlefield martial skills. Uncle Zhao Zhenxing's words had left a deep impression on Zhao Jin — if Chen Sheng's grandfather said this, there must be truth in it.

But Zhao Jin had his own things to do. He smiled and said, "I'm going to start learning martial arts from my uncle today. I don't have time to fight you."

Hearing this, Chen Sheng's eyes lit up. He stepped forward, grabbed Zhao Jin's hand, and said, "Great, great! Once you've learned some martial arts, our fights will be even more fun."

"I'll come find you when I have time," Zhao Jin said dismissively. But Chen Sheng replied with utter seriousness, "You have to come spar. As long as you come, I'll bring you good things to eat!"

In their past encounters, Zhao Jin had been afraid of Chen Sheng, and Chen Sheng had always been the one in charge between them. But after yesterday's sparring match, Zhao Jin had somehow taken the lead. And that unconscious way he had of speaking and acting like an adult made Chen Sheng think he was impressive, someone worth befriending.

Just then, He Cuihua called out from the courtyard. Chen Sheng and his brother Chen Hong left hand in hand, and Zhao Jin shut the gate and went back inside.

Noticing the pastry crumbs on Zhao Jin's face, He Cuihua found it very strange. As she helped him change into the altered short martial-arts robe, she asked what had happened. Zhao Jin explained everything in detail. He Cuihua tied his sash and said with a smile, "You explain things much more clearly than before, child. This illness really wasn't all bad."

Zhao Jin's heart skipped a beat — he knew this was a change from how he used to be. But his mother, He Cuihua, didn't dwell on it. She smiled and continued, "The Chen family always puts on airs, but they have warm hearts. They've helped out many of the neighbors. Their children won't be bad either. You should spend more time with them."

The clothes were soon on. The trouser legs, cuffs, and waist were all drawn tight, and a few cloth strips had been specially made for tying up later. Once he was fully dressed, He Cuihua gave Zhao Jin's clothes a final tug and smiled with satisfaction. "You look much more spirited now."

Zhao Jin said nothing. He was quietly experiencing this motherly love he had never felt before. He Cuihua, however, didn't notice this subtle reaction. She asked, "Xiao Jin, has Xiaolan come back?"

Xiaolan? When that name was mentioned, Zhao Jin paused for a moment before it clicked. His mother, He Cuihua, must be asking about his playmate, Mu Shulan. Although Zhao Jin had been pampered since childhood, the Zhao family was no wealthy household. Zhao Jin did play outside, but he couldn't fit in with Chen Sheng's crowd. Because he was gentle and mild-tempered, he instead spent every day with a girl from the neighborhood.

That girl was two years younger than Zhao Jin and wore her hair in ram's-horn braids. Since her family was from out of town, she had no other playmates, and one thing led to another until she and Zhao Jin were playing together. Zhao Jin had a good temperament — unlike most boys, who ran wild all day — and he got along well with this Xiaolan. Their relationship was truly good; if she wasn't looking for him, he was looking for her.

Many things and many people only leave an impression once you've met and interacted with them. These past few days, Mu Shulan had gone back to her hometown with the adults, and Zhao Jin hadn't given it a single thought.

Now that his mother had brought it up, Zhao Jin felt a bit of a headache. In that other life, from the orphanage all the way to the end, he'd had almost no experience dealing with the opposite sex. He knew how to interact with boys, but girls — especially a little girl this age — he truly had no idea what to do.

Not knowing how to answer, Zhao Jin suddenly remembered something. He spoke up: "Mother, didn't Father say we shouldn't get too close to her family?"

When he said this, He Cuihua misunderstood. Laughing, she reached out and pinched Zhao Jin's cheek, scolding him playfully, "You little rascal, getting shy now. Her family's problems are her family's. I'd actually like Xiaolan to be your wife someday."

Although people married early in this era, a ten-year-old and an eight-year-old together could only be called playing house. Mature as Zhao Jin's mind was, he had no idea how to respond for a moment, and his face flushed red.

Fortunately, He Cuihua didn't press further. She simply said, "Hurry off to your uncle now! Be careful while practicing martial arts, and at noon, call your uncle back to eat."

Zhao Jin quickly agreed, turned around, and ran out at a fast pace. The area where the Zhao family lived was near the North Gate of Xuzhou City, not far from the Hubu Hill district — a gathering place for the city's wealthy households. As he ran through this area, quite a few people were heading out from their homes, off to handle business or run errands, each with somewhere to go. Once he left this area and entered the vicinity of East Scissors Alley, the streets grew much quieter. Shops and trading firms normally opened at dawn and closed at dusk, but here, many of the storefronts along the street still had their doors tightly shut, their doors and windows locked. There wasn't even a trace of sweeping in front of the doors — just garbage and dust, as if they hadn't been cleaned in many days.

The market in Xuzhou was withering. Zhao Jin could feel it tangibly. According to his uncle, all of this was due to the opening of the Jia Canal. The name "Jia Canal" was something Zhao Jin had heard for the first time in this era, and he couldn't make sense of it at all. He planned to find a chance to ask about it.

He jogged all the way to the backyard of the merchant shop his uncle Zhao Zhenxing was guarding. The courtyard gate was open, but Zhao Jin didn't rush inside. Instead, he stopped at the entrance, placed both hands on his knees, and gasped for breath.

Zhao Jin had never really exercised, and unlike other boys, he didn't run around wildly outside. So he had no stamina. The distance he'd run wasn't far, and his pace hadn't been fast, but it had still left him completely winded.

Before he could recover, his uncle Zhao Zhenxing appeared at the gate. Unlike yesterday, Zhao Zhenxing today was also dressed in a trim, short outfit, a long staff in his hand. Seeing Zhao Jin at the entrance, panting heavily and drenched in sweat, the smile on Zhao Zhenxing's face vanished. He frowned and said, "Xiao Jin, your body is far too weak. You need to train!"

Zhao Jin nodded. Since he was going to learn martial arts, he had to train his body. Everything would start today.

Uncle and nephew walked into the courtyard. The yard, still somewhat messy yesterday, had been cleaned up considerably, leaving a large open space. Zhao Zhenxing stood there and said with a smile, "Last night when I got back, I called a few people to help tidy up. It almost feels like fate — this courtyard makes a perfect training ground."

Zhao Jin looked around, wondering why his uncle hadn't brought out any weapons. In that other life, he had been combative from a young age and, like most people, had a fondness for all kinds of martial arts novels, films, and shows. He had always wanted to learn martial arts, but as a child he'd had no opportunity, and as an adult, no time. Now that he could learn, and his uncle Zhao Zhenxing was clearly no amateur, he was full of anticipation. Ever since last night, he'd been wondering what he would learn today.

"First, the horse stance!" Zhao Zhenxing's words doused Zhao Jin's fantasies. Zhao Zhenxing first demonstrated the posture, and then Zhao Jin copied him.

Zhao Zhenxing thrust the long staff in his hand vertically into the dirt, pointed to a spot, and said, "When the shadow reaches there, you can stop. Otherwise, twenty strikes on the palm!"

The Zhao Zhenxing speaking now was no longer the kind and generous uncle, but a stern teacher. After saying this, he picked up a rattan cane that had been prepared nearby and swished it twice through the air. It produced a sharp whistle. Hearing that sound, Zhao Jin's body trembled — that thing would definitely hurt terribly on the palm.

With a pained expression, Zhao Jin sank into the horse stance. He noticed that the spot his uncle had indicated — it would take about two hours for the shadow to reach there, a full two-hour period. He had thought he'd be learning some exciting martial techniques; he'd never imagined the beginning would be this tedious.

Zhao Zhenxing pulled a chair over and sat to the side. Zhao Jin knew his uncle wasn't putting on airs — his body was weak, and he needed to rest as much as possible whenever he could.

One quarter-hour, two quarter-hours, three quarter-hours, an hour. Uncle Zhao Zhenxing sat up straight in surprise. Children are naturally lively and find it hard to settle down. Boring training like the horse stance is very difficult for them to persist in. Usually, they can hold the posture for about the time it takes one stick of incense to burn, but any longer and they can't stand it — their minds wander, their posture shifts in all sorts of ways. Zhao Zhenxing clearly remembered what he and his brother had looked like when they first started learning martial arts. In those first few days, their hands and backsides had been beaten swollen. They had to be fed, and they slept on their stomachs.

The reason he had chosen to start with the horse stance was, on one hand, to progress step by step. On the other hand, Zhao Zhenxing wanted to establish discipline for Zhao Jin. Normally, he doted on this nephew quite a bit, but when it came to teaching martial arts, there could be no ambiguity. He had to be strict and severe. A child, once beaten, would remember the rules.

But what he hadn't expected was that Zhao Jin had actually persevered. His body was already swaying, and his forehead was covered in sweat, but this wasn't slacking off. Zhao Jin was persisting the whole time — it was only because his physical strength couldn't hold out that he appeared this way.

Zhao Zhenxing nodded slightly. With this kind of temperament and perseverance, his nephew truly had a talent for martial arts.