Chapter 1155: An Unprecedented Arena

Sun Dalin had originally been a martial instructor hired by the family, but after he came to serve as a guard by Zhao Jin's side, Niu Jinbao took a great liking to this honest, eager-to-learn young man. Sun Dalin, in turn, was utterly awed by Niu Jinbao's ferocious martial skill. Before long, he had taken him as a disciple and formally established this line of succession.

This news from Niu Jinbao was something Zhao Jin had not expected, and neither the inner guards around him nor his other informants had noticed it either. But that was hardly surprising — Zhao Jin's personal bodyguards were, by their very nature, the most special group, required to have as little contact with outsiders as possible. Both Niu Jinbao and Sun Dalin were the silent, solitary type, which made it even harder to detect any signs.

"The key for those guarding my person is to be seasoned and steady, to know what to do in a moment of crisis, not to charge forward recklessly. That is the very meaning of your role as a personal guard. Since you have old injuries, treat them properly. Don't overthink it," Zhao Jin said, his tone unhurried.

At such words, Niu Jinbao could only clasp his fist in acknowledgment. Zhao Jin took a few steps forward and continued, "Every retainer in the Zhao Battalion has a future. With merit, they can rise. Dalin will go out and make his own way in time, but you have no such prospects here. That's not good in the long run. Your mother has had people approach you several times about marriage, and you turned them all down, didn't you?"

Zhao Jin was speaking with an air of seasoned authority, and though Niu Jinbao was nearly twenty years his senior, the tone made it sound as if Zhao Jin were the older one. Yet those close to Zhao Jin within the Zhao Battalion had long grown accustomed to this reversal. Outside, this subtle inversion was spread about as Zhao Jin's "innate wisdom," and in secret, some even whispered of a true dragon entering his body...

"My side is no field of life and death. Guarded layer upon layer, you are safer than most of the retainers. Don't talk about being a burden to others. When it's time to start a family, start a family."

At this, Niu Jinbao grew rather uncomfortable, trailing awkwardly behind. Zhao Jin stopped, turned his head, and changed the subject. "Open a martial school here in He Village. Have Wang Zhaojing help you arrange it. Recruit many disciples and pass on everything you've learned. We can also select guards from among those people."

Niu Jinbao was first stunned, then a look of gratitude surfaced on his face. He bowed deeply in a grand salute and spoke in a muffled voice, "Many thanks, Master. Many thanks, Master."

For a common martial artist not born into a military household or a general's clan, if he had no chance to become a government officer yet still wanted a respectable livelihood, opening a martial school was the best choice. And the arrangement Zhao Jin gave Niu Jinbao was tantamount to having him establish a dedicated academy, tasked with training personal guards for Zhao Jin. The honor and prestige of this were on an entirely different level — something to boast of anywhere in Xuzhou.

But after the initial surprise and delight, Niu Jinbao considered the matter more deeply. He asked with some doubt, "Master, your subordinate already teaches at the martial school over there. Why open a separate new school?"

"They are two different things. What they learn over there are battlefield combat techniques. What they will learn from you is martial skill. Our Zhao Battalion must form ranks and fight on the battlefield, but there must also be men who can fight one-on-one in streets, alleys, and houses," Zhao Jin replied with a smile.

Niu Jinbao nodded. They had thus arrived at Zhao Jin's study. No one was permitted to enter this place without Zhao Jin's express permission. Niu Jinbao and Sun Dalin both waited outside to be summoned.

As Zhao Jin unlocked the door and entered, Niu Jinbao sighed and said, "Master, when your subordinate first finished learning his skills, he thought there was no place under heaven he could not go. But the moment I descended the mountain, I realized this martial skill of mine could not even handle village braves and local militia. When I returned to our Xuzhou and saw our Xuzhou's firearms, I felt my skills were utterly useless. No matter your ability to subdue dragons and capture tigers, let some half-grown child fire a musket, and any hero or stout fellow is finished. Passing on such useless skills to others — isn't that just leading students astray?"

"They are useful," Zhao Jin answered with a smile, and entered the room.

He saw the desolation on Niu Jinbao's face very clearly. The perpetually expressionless Niu Jinbao rarely showed such a look — that kind of disheartened despair.

In truth, Niu Jinbao's duty of guarding Zhao Jin was quite leisurely. The outer perimeter was already secured with sufficient strictness; there was not much he needed to do. As for his status in Xuzhou, it went without saying — he was one of Zhao Jin's men, and everyone had to show him some courtesy.

Zhao Jin could guess the reason for his despondency. When a martial practitioner saw the muskets and cannons of the Zhao Battalion, a sense of hopeless powerlessness was inevitable. You trained bitterly, fought life-and-death battles, and after ten or twenty years, you might achieve something. Yet an ordinary peasant, after a dozen or so days of practice, could fire a musket. In a month or two, he could become roughly proficient. No matter how peerless your martial skill, one hit from a musket meant death or grievous injury.

Faced with such a comparison, a martial man like Niu Jinbao, who had built his life on martial skill, was bound to be disheartened. The martial tournament at Qingjiangpu this time looked spectacularly lively, with the realm's top masters all making a move. But in Niu Jinbao's eyes, there must have been a sense of bleak futility. Compared to those so-called masters and experts, Niu Jinbao might not necessarily win in single combat. Yet having spent so many years in the Zhao Battalion, he stood higher than them and saw further than them. Those men took pride in their martial prowess, but Niu Jinbao saw the twilight and dead end of martial skill.

Since they were going to Qingjiangpu to show their faces and calm people's hearts, the Zhao Battalion's might and display had to be done to the fullest, so that the guests from all directions attending the tournament would realize the Zhao Battalion's strength, and realize that this so-called flood had done no damage to Xuzhou at all.

Normally, when Zhao Jin traveled from Xuzhou to the northern district of Huai'an and Qingjiangpu, his escort was two to three hundred riders. But this time, a thousand men were handpicked directly from the brigades, regiments, and large companies stationed in Xuzhou. They had to be tall, strong, and robust, and the horses assigned to the mounted retainers also had to be specially selected.

Weapons, firearms, and armor all had to be maintained, to present the most optimal state to outsiders. The retainers chosen to go joked among themselves that on this trip to Qingjiangpu, every single man must gleam and glitter, dazzling the eyes of all onlookers.

Zhou Xuezhi in Qingjiangpu had long since begun bustling about. After last year's tournament, construction on a new tournament venue had begun at the start of this year and was now complete. Since Zhao Jin was coming, and the significance of this tournament was so great, the arena's details had to be perfected as well.

The master artisan supervising the construction of this arena was surnamed Fu, given name Chen, thirty-seven years old this year. He was originally from Xiacai Town in Fengyang Prefecture, and his family was a hereditary house that had built and repaired the imperial tombs of the Central Capital. A household that should have been free from want over food and clothing had been driven out of Fengyang Prefecture because of dissatisfaction with a certain garrison eunuch's excessive embezzlement. They had wandered through Luzhou Prefecture and Anqing Prefecture, scraping by on small supervisory construction jobs.

It was Geng Mancang, a native of Wuhu, who discovered him and directly recommended him to work for the Zhao Battalion. Compared to any other power, even the government, the Zhao Battalion had a great enthusiasm for construction projects. From dikes to market towns, to farm estates and encampments, wherever they went, they invariably launched large-scale civil works. Yet these projects were all of critical importance, and they dared not use untrusted people to supervise them. The Zhao Battalion's Trade Office had always been scouring Xuzhou for such talents, and this Fu Chen was one of them.

Once he came to the Zhao Battalion, this Fu Chen truly found himself like a fish in water. In construction and civil engineering here, the budgets were generous, and there was not much interference. As long as you did not tamper with the funds, the Zhao Battalion let you do as you saw fit.

When he was selected to supervise the construction of the Qingjiangpu arena, Fu Chen was filled with lofty ambition, thinking this time he could fully display his talents. He had not expected that before the design was finalized and work began, he would be sent to Xuzhou to meet with Zhao Jin. Taking Xuzhou's silver and eating Xuzhou's rice, he naturally had to listen and obey. Yet Fu Chen's mood was somewhat low. For a master artisan supervising civil engineering like himself, nothing was more taboo than others meddling with his work, but constrained by his status, he had to accept advice no matter how amateurish it was.

After meeting with Zhao Jin, however, Fu Chen's gloom was swept away entirely. He began to understand what others meant when they said "Master Jin is omnipotent." Zhao Jin had indeed meddled with the arena's design, but this meddling made Fu Chen feel as though a door had been opened for him. He saw things completely different from any architecture in the Great Ming. According to Zhao Jin's description, this design came from a thousand years ago, but Fu Chen, who had studied and accumulated knowledge from his family since childhood, had never heard of anything like it.

These doubts were all trivial matters. Upon returning to Qingjiangpu, Fu Chen immediately threw himself into the arena's construction with a hundredfold passion. And once this arena was completed, it truly astounded all of Qingjiangpu, and astounded everyone who passed through Qingjiangpu traveling north or south along the Grand Canal.

The arena was located southwest of Qingjiangpu, between Qingjiangpu and Wujiadun. Here there was a naturally elevated large earthen mound, slightly higher than the surface of Hongze Lake. Such a location was rare in the vicinity of Qingjiangpu. Riding a horse or taking a carriage from the canal side to this arena took over half a shichen, and walking took over a shichen. This distance was acceptable to both the gentry and the common folk; coming in the morning and leaving in the evening was no great burden.

The entire arena covered twenty mu. According to the thinking of the time, martial contests and skill comparisons all had to be conducted on a raised platform — a stage built of earth and wood, with the contestants competing on top. But this notion came from storytelling and romances and had no real basis. The original tournament had also used this raised-platform method, but it was later found to have too many random factors. Neither the viewing experience nor fairness was up to standard, so they simply changed to competing on flat ground, with everyone watching from elevated positions all around. This arena was built based on that concept.

From the outside, however, no one would know this structure was an arena. They would only guess it was a large residential compound. Outside was a high wall nearly two stories tall; what lay within was impossible to see. From a distance, all one could see was a ring of high walls. Some even believed it looked like a wooden basin, and there were those who drew far-fetched analogies, claiming the arena was actually a feng shui arrangement by Zhao Jin. They even said that buried beneath the arena was the treasure-gathering bowl of the bygone Shen Wansan, meant to draw all the world's fortune to the Zhao family, while simultaneously severing the Great Ming's dragon vein that ran parallel to the Grand Canal. Now, the people of Qingjiangpu and the surrounding areas called this arena the "Treasure-Gathering Bowl."

Such idle rumors were nothing more than wine-table chatter — spoken with an air of mystery, heard with feigned seriousness, and followed by laughter all around afterward. What truly lingered in people's minds and sparked endless discussion was the arena's structure. Only when you walked through it, inside and out, would you discover the marvel of this building. Even well-traveled, worldly-wise men had never seen a similar structure anywhere in the Great Ming.

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