Chapter 22: First Place Wasn't Chen Sheng

Before he could explain, Zhao Zhenxing asked with a beaming smile, "Why didn't you keep competing?"

Seeing his uncle in such a good mood, Zhao Jin scratched his head and said, "I was in a hurry to get back to martial practice. I was afraid of wasting time."

Zhao Zhenxing nodded with a smile and said, "Tomorrow you can finish the matches before coming back. It won't take up too much time anyway."

Zhao Jin hadn't expected his uncle to say that. He froze for a moment, then quickly nodded.

Even with the mind of an adult, Zhao Jin had found the sparring matches quite interesting. He couldn't help looking back, and it just so happened that Chen Sheng had just started his bout. With a single move, that scrawny opponent was sent flying.

Compared to the rich variety of the midday break, the afternoon martial practice was just as tedious as ever. Zhao Zhenxing, however, brought out a long spear and demonstrated a set in the courtyard. Compared to those rapid thrusts, this time there were many more parrying and sweeping strikes—still very simple and practical.

But demonstrating the techniques didn't mean he would teach them. Uncle Zhao Zhenxing kept an even closer watch on Zhao Jin that afternoon. The slightest wrong move, and a rattan switch came lashing down.

Fortunately, Zhao Jin possessed a level of focus far beyond his peers and quickly adjusted. Because he had lost a bit of time coming back, he ended up practicing later than usual.

When Zhao Zhenxing was walking the two children home, he made a point of saying to Zhao Jin along the way, "A month for the staff, a year for the saber, a lifetime for the spear. If you want to learn martial arts, you mustn't be impatient. If you want to achieve something with the long spear, it's truly a lifelong pursuit."

Zhao Jin nodded at that, but a memory flickered through his mind. It seemed that during the Wanli reign of the Great Ming, European firearms had already begun their major development. Though in this era, Western armies seemed to still be using long spears as well.

Back then in the hospital bed, he hadn't had the heart to listen at all. Now, racking his brains to recall, he could only grasp a few fragmented pieces. That friend of his, though, had liked reading about military and political matters. That knowledge, placed in the present day, still wasn't considered useless dragon-slaying arts—it still had its uses.

Once they reached the street in front of Zhao Jin's house, Zhao Zhenxing would go no further. It had been like this every day. At first, Zhao Jin thought his uncle didn't want to always eat at their home, but later he realized his uncle was unwilling to run into Mu Shulan's father.

Everyone around him seemed ordinary, yet each had their own story. Zhao Jin often thought this. But he also knew that perhaps some things, commonplace in this era, were simply novel to him, which was why he felt this way.

Today, however, was a bit strange. The little girl's father was waiting at the intersection. Zhao Zhenxing gave a cold nod and led Zhao Jin right past him.

In contrast to his elder's cold attitude, Zhao Jin was quite curious about Mu Shulan's father and didn't have a bad impression of him. Most commoners of this era weren't very clean, with unkempt hair and beards, which Zhao Jin found hard to get used to. But Mu Shulan's father paid great attention to his grooming. His clothes were always spotless, his hair and beard neatly trimmed, and his walk and speech were always graceful and poised.

As they neared the house, he understood why Mu Shulan's father had come to the intersection to wait for someone. There were people waiting in front of his own home—an adult and a youth.

The sun had already set, and the street was somewhat dim, but Zhao Jin could still make out the two figures. He recognized the youth—one of the sturdiest kids from the goods yard, with dark, swarthy skin. The old Zhao Jin hadn't really dared to interact with someone like that. He vaguely remembered the surname was Shi.

The Shi family youth was holding a bundle in his hand, his face full of defiance. There were still traces of tears on his face, as if he had been crying earlier. No telling what had happened.

Zhao Jin glanced casually, then immediately froze. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, realizing that the bundle was the very one he had used to wrap his pastries. Seeing this, Zhao Jin finally snapped out of his weary, muddled post-practice daze and reacted—he still didn't know his ranking from the matches!

"Master Shi, some free time at the blacksmith shop today? What brings you here?" Zhao Zhenxing called out in greeting.

The adult addressed as Master Shi was also very burly, resembling the youth beside him. Both had thick lips, narrow eyes, and large noses—clearly a father and son. His full beard was quite striking.

Despite such a fierce and imposing appearance, his manner of speaking was very polite. When Zhao Zhenxing greeted him, Master Shi cupped his fists and said, "Second Master, my boy here got himself into trouble today and even said it was the doing of Elder Master Zhao's young master. I can't indulge this bad habit of his. I got to the bottom of it, and I'm going to teach him a proper lesson!"

"We're all neighbors here, no need for 'Second Master' this and 'Elder Master' that. Xiao Jin is right here. Master Shi, just ask him directly... Big Brother, you're back." Just as Zhao Zhenxing was finishing, he saw Zhao Zhentang ambling back from the other direction.

The blacksmith Master Shi's attitude toward Zhao Zhentang was even more respectful. He quickly bowed deeply and said, "Elder Master Zhao, you've returned. Have you been well lately?"

Seeing this scene, Zhao Jin was a bit shaken. He had never really had a clear concept of his family's status. Zhao Jin had always thought of his father as just a runner at the yamen who had an executioner's trade, and that the Hundred-Household title in Xuzhou Guard was something normally never used. His second uncle worked as a shop assistant for someone else. The Zhao family was just an ordinary household.

The attitude of this blacksmith master today made Zhao Jin understand. In the eyes of the common people, the Zhao family was already considered high above them. Thinking back to that remark this morning about not needing money to buy pastries, this life really was different from that other one.

Toward Master Shi's greeting, Zhao Zhentang's attitude was very cold. He merely nodded and spoke directly to Zhao Zhenxing, "Second Brother, just come straight home for lunch and dinner. Why act so distant? Do you really need your sister-in-law to come call you?"

Zhao Zhenxing smiled and said to Master Shi, "Xiao Jin is here too. If you have something to ask, just ask directly."

Master Shi nodded somewhat awkwardly, gave the youth beside him a hard slap, and said, "This evening, this boy came home carrying a bundle of pastries..."

The matter was simple. Master Shi's eldest son, Shi Manqiang, wasn't yet old enough to work at the blacksmith shop. There wasn't much work at the shop right now anyway, so they didn't need his help. Every day he just went to the goods yard to play. Today, during the matches, Shi Manqiang had taken first place and won over twenty pastries.

Shi Manqiang hadn't been willing to eat them at the goods yard. He excitedly took them home to give to his younger brother and two younger sisters. Buttery milk pastries, osmanthus cakes, sweet bean paste cakes—these were all fine delicacies that ordinary families rarely got to taste. Even the sesame flatbreads were something the Shi family only grudgingly bought for the children during holidays. And mind you, the Shi family's blacksmith shop was a joint venture with someone else; having their own business already put them in a decent position.

The Shi family elders had passed away early, and Shi Manqiang's mother also helped out at the shop. The house was usually locked, and the children were kept inside the courtyard. Once Shi Manqiang climbed over the wall, no one was around to mind him.

When the couple came home and saw the children joyfully eating those fine pastries, and in such quantities—pastries they themselves grudged buying much of even for New Year's or festivals, yet here were so many—Master Shi and his wife immediately grew worried.

Shi Manqiang said he'd won them in a match. The Shi couple, of course, didn't believe him. A bunch of kids messing around—what match, what prizes? It was clearly a story he'd made up after sneaking off to a teahouse to eavesdrop on storytellers. The Shi couple sternly demanded to know where Shi Manqiang had stolen the pastries from, and they repacked the pastries that had barely been touched.

Hearing his parents accuse him of stealing, and saying things like "poverty is no excuse, you must have ambition," Shi Manqiang immediately grew frantic. His younger siblings were scared into loud wails, which only made Shi Manqiang seethe with even more pent-up frustration. In the end, Master Shi gave him a harsh beating.

The Shi couple hadn't expected their usually honest child to be so stubborn. Even after the beating, he still gritted his teeth and stuck to his earlier story, even dragging in "the Zhao family's young master." Master Shi was pushed to his limit and decided to swallow his pride, bring his son over to get to the bottom of it, and leave his son with nothing to say. Then they'd go home, break one of his legs, and teach him a proper lesson.

"You actually took first place?" This was what surprised Zhao Jin the most, and he couldn't help asking aloud. He had thought Chen Sheng would claim victory without any suspense. He never expected that the unassuming Shi Manqiang had taken first.

At these words, Master Shi's mouth dropped open. No matter how you looked at it, Zhao Jin's question made it clear—his own son really had taken first place, and those pastries really were the prize.

Shi Manqiang shot his father a resentful glare. But a child is still a child, and his mood shifted quickly. When the topic turned to something he was proud of, a smile actually surfaced on his face again. Shi Manqiang said smugly, "That chubby little Chen kid is tough with a staff, but without it, he's nothing. He tried to throw me but couldn't. I just picked him right up and tossed him out."