Chapter 19: The Lure of Progressive Rewards and Delicious Food

Lunch was only half finished when they spotted the Chen brothers poking their heads around the spirit screen. Zhao Jin's martial training had delayed him, so he ate later than usual — but didn't the Chen brothers also train?

"Those two probably only get let out to play around noon. The rest of the time they're training too." His uncle Zhao Zhenxing answered the unspoken question.

Seeing the two of them approach, Zhao Jin found it hard to stay seated. Even though he had set his goal, his temperament was growing more and more like a boy's.

He wolfed down his meal, waited impatiently for Mu Shulan to finish, then grabbed the bundle and pastries and headed out. Behind him, he could still hear his father Zhao Zhentang saying, "Nothing to worry about with all four kids together. No kidnapper or trafficker would be that blind."

The Chen household had sent more than just the two brothers. Outside the gate, a servant in his forties was waiting. In his left hand he carried two bundles, in his right an earthenware jar — everything looked to have been prepared according to what Zhao Jin had said the day before. When he saw Zhao Jin come out, the servant nodded politely in greeting and took the bundle from Zhao Jin's hands.

Seeing that the Chen brothers had brought everything he'd asked for, Zhao Jin felt a twinge of regret, but he still grinned and said, "Let's hurry."

The Chen brothers were beaming with excitement too. Everyone picked up the pace without thinking. Mu Shulan and Chen Hong followed along cheerfully. Halfway there, Mu Shulan suddenly spoke up: "Is this really a good time to go? Everyone's just finished lunch. These pastries won't tempt them."

The girl was sharp — she had hit on a real point. Her question stopped Zhao Jin in his tracks. Chen Sheng paused, then figured it out too. Chen Hong stared wide-eyed behind them, completely lost. Zhao Jin smacked his forehead in frustration. He'd thought he had a brilliant plan, never imagining a girl would see the flaw more clearly than he did.

Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng both looked hesitant, wondering if they should pick a different time. But the servant following behind them laughed and said, "Young masters, no need to worry. Plenty of households in Xuzhou city only eat two meals a day. Some eat just one. They're all hungry right now!"

"Only two meals? One meal? Doesn't everyone eat three meals a day?" Chen Sheng asked, stunned.

The servant smiled and went on explaining: "Eat your fill in the morning, go out and work, eat supper when you're done — that's the whole day. A lot of families only eat three meals during the busy season. And plenty of households can't even manage to eat their fill. For many people, just getting one meal a day is already something..."

After a few more words, the servant's smile faded. He shook his head and said no more. Chen Sheng looked utterly shocked. It might have been the first time he'd heard of such harsh realities and suffering, and it shook him deeply. Zhao Jin's expression remained calm. Though it was the first time he'd heard it put this way, he had learned about such things through many other channels before.

No matter the era, the lives of the poor were filled with hardship — and in these times, with no safety net whatsoever, it was especially true.

They walked in silence for a while. In the end, children recover quickly. Chen Sheng perked up and said excitedly, "Then let's hurry! Someone's bound to spar with me."

The mood turned lively again, and they all continued toward the freight yard.

The freight yard was as bustling as ever. It looked like a lot of people hadn't eaten lunch, but everyone seemed used to it, playing just as happily as always.

Zhao Jin had been here several times now, and even drawing on his past memories, he'd never noticed anything. But after that conversation just now, he began to pick up on many details.

Many of the children wore tattered clothes. It was already late autumn, yet everyone was dressed very thinly. Liu Yong's gang from South Gate were all in single-layer shirts, their chests bared — not out of toughness, but because they had no thicker clothes.

Though the crowd was scattered here and there in groups, few were truly running and jumping around. Many just sat or stood. Less activity meant less energy spent, so they wouldn't feel hungry too soon. There were, however, a dozen or so kids in padded jackets and fur-lined robes who were full of energy, dashing about everywhere. These children had good color in their faces, and each had a few poor kids tagging along behind them.

Zhao Jin also noticed something else: in this freight yard, the oldest child was no more than fourteen. A moment's thought gave him the reason — older kids had to work to help support the family and feed themselves. Who had time to loiter around here?

Everyone had seen Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng arrive. Yesterday, a crowd would have swarmed around them, but after that brawl — after seeing Liu Yong's bloodied face and the short kid rolling on the ground in agony — everyone was scared. Add to that Chen Sheng's overwhelming display of dominance, and now no one dared approach.

The Chen family servant who had come with them was tactful. He set down the things he was carrying, said a quick greeting, and turned to leave on his own.

"Just watch from the side. I'll handle this!" Zhao Jin said to Chen Sheng. Chen Sheng nodded, unconcerned.

"Move the stuff over there — that spot's higher." Zhao Jin led them to an earthen platform on the west side of the freight yard. The few kids playing on it scrambled out of the way in a panic.

But the curiosity of every child and youth in the freight yard was now fixed on Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng. Many of the youths had already gathered around. Even Liu Yong's crew, who had come out the worse yesterday, were watching intently from a distance.

"Open the bundle with the pastries," Zhao Jin said to Chen Sheng. Without realizing it, Chen Sheng had begun instinctively following Zhao Jin's orders.

The two of them opened the bundles. Milk-crisp cakes, red bean cakes, sesame flatbreads, and osmanthus candy appeared before everyone's eyes.

Chen Sheng brought tasty snacks every day, but those little odds and ends were hardly noticeable. Now, what Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng had together added up to over thirty pieces — a huge pile.

The youths watching unconsciously took a step forward. Zhao Jin clearly saw many Adam's apples bob as they swallowed their saliva.

Once all this was laid out, not only were the youths in the yard staring at Zhao Jin — even the Chen brothers and Mu Shulan were watching him, waiting for his next move. None of them knew what he was planning.

Zhao Jin picked up the earthenware jar, then opened the bundle containing the small wooden tablets. Thirty-two black and thirty-two white, all roughly the same size, about half an inch across. It was only because the Chen family was wealthy that so many tablets could be produced overnight. Zhao Jin poured the tablets into the jar and gave it a shake.

Every single person watched intently, afraid of missing a single step, as if watching someone perform a magic trick.

When all this was done, Zhao Jin stood up and shouted at the top of his lungs: "Chen Sheng and I are going to hold a martial contest here."

The moment they heard the words "martial contest," the youths below lost all interest. Many turned around at once, about to disperse.

"Top eight get one pastry each! Top four get an extra one! Top two get two more! First place takes sixteen!" Zhao Jin bellowed.

Many of the children and youths were still turning to leave. Chen Sheng was starting to get anxious and was about to speak — but at that moment, the children in the freight yard all caught on. Every one of them spun around and crowded toward the earthen platform.

One person could win sixteen! That was enough to eat for two or three days. And these were fine pastries, made with sugar and oil — the kind many children didn't even get to eat during the New Year. Winning first place would be a huge prize. Several sturdy kids were already itching to try.

"Zhao Jin, if I make the top eight and get one, and then I make the top four, do I get another one — so that's two?" someone shouted from below.

Zhao Jin looked down and saw it was a fat kid in a padded jacket, his whole body round like a giant white steamed bun. He was even a bit taller than Chen Sheng. From his memories, this fat kid's surname was Sun, and his family ran a cloth shop. Hearing this question, Zhao Jin felt a surge of delight — what he'd wanted to say himself had been asked by someone else, which made the effect even better. He was also a little surprised that someone could actually figure out the math.

"That's right. What you get in the top eight and what you get in the top four are two separate things. If you make the top four, you'll walk away with at least two," Zhao Jin answered loudly.

The fat Sun kid's eyes darted around, and he shouted in astonishment, "Th-th-then... if you win first place, you'd get twenty in total!"

He stammered a little. The surrounding youths burst out laughing at first, but then their expressions grew even more eager.

The sesame flatbreads Chen Sheng had brought were still steaming. A gust of wind carried the fragrance drifting outward, and several of the younger children couldn't stop themselves from drooling.

At this point, Liu Yong's gang pushed their way forward again, glaring fiercely at anyone who wouldn't make way. Many children shrank back in fear. Besides the South Gate crew, other groups of sturdier kids, those who ran in their own packs, also pressed in close.