Chapter 26: A Clever Shortcut

Zhao Zhenxing was stunned again. The words were originally the naive, honest truth of a child, but after a moment's reflection, Zhao Zhenxing sensed there was something more behind them. His nephew Zhao Jin, right before his eyes, had a nimble mind and could no longer be treated as an ordinary youth. A smile spread across Zhao Zhenxing's face. He bent down, leaned in close, and asked, "Xiao Jin, tell your uncle—who taught you all this? Was it your father?"

Zhao Jin shook his head. He couldn't tell this lie, because it would fall apart the moment anyone checked. "No one taught me. I thought of it myself."

"Yourself?"

"Yeah. After I got better from the illness, my mind cleared up. I figured out a lot of things."

Zhao Jin's answer made Zhao Zhenxing freeze again. Then he nodded and said slowly, "I never expected this, never expected this. This is a blessing for our Zhao family!"

A serious illness clearing the mind—it sounded like a myth, utterly absurd, yet such tales and accounts had been common throughout history. This reason was very easy to accept. And of course, by explaining it this way, Zhao Jin was, in fact, vaguely telling the truth.

Just as Zhao Jin had expected, Zhao Zhenxing accepted his reasoning. In truth, with this reason, the transformation that made him seem like a completely different person before and after the illness could all be explained.

Zhao Zhenxing glanced at the little girl beside them, then said to Zhao Jin with the utmost seriousness, "Don't speak of what you just said to outsiders—not even to your friends. Do you understand?"

Zhao Jin nodded with a cheeky grin.

The next day after lunch, the Chen Sheng brothers came to the Zhao house as usual to meet up with Zhao Jin. Seeing the proud, high-spirited look on Chen Sheng's face, Zhao Jin knew that yesterday's first-place winner had been Chen Sheng.

Standing on the earthen platform, Zhao Jin raised Chen Sheng's arm and shouted, "Chen Sheng is the champion!" The children and youths below roared back, "Chen Sheng, mighty and fierce!" Chen Sheng's face flushed bright red with excitement. He had competed here so many times, but this was the first time he had ever felt so glorious.

That day, over a dozen more children joined the tournament than the day before. Word of mouth had spread, and all the youths now knew the freight yard was a fun place, and that competing could even win them things to eat.

This time, Zhao Jin fought his way to the top eight. The opponent he met was unfamiliar, about two years older than him—fast and strong. Though Zhao Jin blocked quickly, the youth still landed a kick on his thigh, making it hard for him to move. But Zhao Jin's fist also smashed solidly into his opponent's chin, knocking him down in one punch for the win.

This time, Zhao Jin did not leave right away. Instead, he advanced to the semifinals, where he ran into Sun Dalei.

Only up close could one truly grasp just how fat Sun Dalei was. Compared to most of the lean youths in the freight yard, Sun Dalei's build was all the more conspicuous. He alone was as thick as three of Zhao Jin put together.

He was covered in a layer of fat; if you punched him, he could take it, but if he landed a punch on someone else, they couldn't withstand it.

Zhao Jin's thigh still ached fiercely, but he knew he couldn't give up. Against Sun Dalei, Zhao Jin resorted to the fighting methods he'd used in his old street brawls. He circled Sun Dalei a few times, then ducked low, charged in, and grabbed his leg, ramming his head into the other's belly. Sun Dalei instinctively flinched backward, and Zhao Jin wrenched his leg and heaved, throwing the big man straight to the ground.

At that point, Zhao Jin called Sun Dalei to his feet, said he was going back to practice martial arts, and then left. Over on the other side, Chen Sheng had just defeated Ji Xiang.

Before he had even walked out, Zhao Jin turned and came back. Reaching the top four meant he could claim two pastries. Zhao Jin took his two, broke off a piece for Chen Hong, and then gathered the dozen or so younger children who were too small to compete. He broke the pastries into little pieces, handed them out, and said with a grin, "This tournament is short on helpers. Tomorrow, will you help collect the tags and be referees?"

The little children popped the pastry into their mouths and nodded their agreement. Every day they watched the older kids compete and win pastries, and they were terribly envious. These little ones couldn't even squeeze to the front to grab a tag—all they could do was stand and watch. Now they had a chance to be part of it, and of course they were overjoyed.

"Whoever wins first place, save a few pastries and share them with these kids. We need people to help out." After doing all this, Zhao Jin turned his head and called out.

Chen Sheng and Sun Dalei, who were just about to start their fight, agreed without much hesitation. The first-place winner had over twenty pastries in hand; giving away a few was nothing.

"Truly righteous and kind..." someone among the youths murmured. All the little children beamed with joy.

Ever since Zhao Jin had spoken those words to Zhao Zhenxing the day before, Zhao Zhenxing no longer came to the freight yard to watch him compete. The daily martial arts instruction had also returned to being dull and tedious.

The next day—the sixth day of the tenth month in the thirty-eighth year of the Wanli reign of the Great Ming—the first snow fell in Xuzhou. Zhao Jin heard from his parents that the snow had come late this year; the previous year, there had already been a light snow in the ninth month.

The snow stopped by daybreak. Both Zhao Jin and Mu Shulan put on extra layers. After lunch, he learned that Chen Sheng had taken first place again the day before.

When he arrived at the freight yard, there were another dozen or so people there. The snow had already melted under everyone's trampling feet, leaving the ground a field of mud.

"Everyone, let's not rush into the matches. First, let's clear out a clean patch of ground. Otherwise, we'll all be covered in mud and get scolded when we go home tonight," Zhao Jin called out, taking the lead.

The youths agreed without hesitation. They were growing more and more accustomed to Zhao Jin giving the orders.

"You, go borrow a basket from over there." "You, clean the snow off the earthen platform—there's dry dirt underneath." Zhao Jin issued one command after another, and the youths busied themselves according to his directions.

He had once been a mid-level department manager, so directing and coordinating were things he did often. But the children and youths in the freight yard, young and old alike, lacked this ability. Being arranged by Zhao Jin in such a methodical, orderly way, they were all convinced and full of admiration.

The newcomers, seeing this scene, immediately deduced who it was that had the final say around here.

That day, Zhao Jin fought to the top eight and then went back. At noon the next day, he learned that Chen Sheng had taken first place once again.

The days passed like this for half a month. Two more snows fell on Xuzhou, and the weather grew colder and colder. In these days, the number of youths in the freight yard had doubled.

In those fifteen days, Chen Sheng took first place ten times, Shi Manqiang took it three times, and Sun Dalei took it twice.

The tournament time was much shorter than before, because over twenty younger children were helping as referees, allowing many matches to be held simultaneously.

Every time, Zhao Jin would leave as soon as he reached the top eight. As coincidence would have it, Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng never ran into each other—the random draw of the tags was simply too arbitrary.

The tournament had been going on for nearly a month now, and the youths who came to participate had a rough sense of the landscape. First and second place belonged to just those few people; what everyone else fought for were the top eight and top four spots.

The youth tournament at the West Freight Yard outside Xuzhou's North Gate had by now gained a bit of a reputation. All the competitive, glory-seeking youths in the city wanted to come and test themselves. "Fatty Chen is too strong, the little blacksmith is too sturdy, Fatty Sun is too fat"—these had become universally acknowledged facts.

It wasn't just Chen Sheng and Zhao Jin who practiced martial arts. Xuzhou had a thriving martial culture, and many youths studied the craft, but even when they came here, they couldn't gain any advantage.

Chen Sheng had trained in martial arts since childhood, and this month his real combat experience had greatly increased. Moreover, he had buried himself in bitter training all month, terrified of being surpassed. Before, he had done it for fun; now, he did it to win—a completely different mindset. Zhao Jin's uncle, Zhao Zhenxing, had once offered a comment: "Chen Sheng can be said to have advanced by leaps and bounds."

Sun Dalei's family was well-off, and half a month ago they had also hired a boxing instructor to teach him. Though his movements were still slow, they were growing more and more methodical. He would often sell a feint, draw someone in close, and then strike.

Shi Manqiang, Ji Xiang, Liu Yong, and the other relatively strong youths all came from very poor families. They didn't have the means to hire a teacher. No one knew who started it, but whenever Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng fought their matches, these youths would watch with rapt, focused attention. After the fights, they would even sincerely ask questions and seek advice.

Chen Sheng felt that being able to teach others was a matter of great face, while Zhao Jin was simply eager to help. Both of them explained things very carefully and patiently.

Zhao Jin had a mature mind, but his time studying martial arts was short. Even adding his old street-fighting experience, what he could explain was limited. Chen Sheng had trained for quite a while, but a youth his age wouldn't have very deep understanding, so the things he explained were about the same as what Zhao Jin offered.

What they could teach was little, but Shi Manqiang and the others studied with great dedication and practiced just as diligently on their own.

No one slacked off. Everyone was striving hard to improve themselves. That was why, after a full month, even as outsiders kept joining in, these few people always remained in the top eight.

Gradually, a sort of "Roster of Heroes" had formed in the minds of the freight yard youths. They all took pride in being able to rank among the top few.

However, there were debates over who was stronger and who was weaker. On one point, though, everyone agreed: the one whose word counted in this freight yard was Zhao Jin. Whatever he arranged, everyone followed. And they consistently refused to believe Chen Sheng was the strongest, because Zhao Jin had never lost—it was just that Zhao Jin had to go back and practice martial arts, and never fought to the very end.