Chapter 28: Everyone Is Improving

Zhao Jin laboriously finished writing those few characters. A writing brush and a hard pen were completely different — without the education from his elementary school years, even producing a legible character would have been difficult.

He took out another sheet of paper. It was lucky this shop still had a few account books left; otherwise, finding paper anywhere would have been a real problem.

Using the brush, Zhao Jin drew several horizontal lines, then annotated the edges with labels like "armored spearmen" and "halberdiers," and finally wrote "Swiss Square" at the bottom.

A great deal of content came back to him — little tips like putting a tea bag into beef stew to make it tender, or that the leadership liked to smoke Shanghai's Daqianmen cigarettes. Naturally, these were of no use. Zhao Jin realized that the things he had heard and seen during that period in the hospital bed had helped him the most.

Because at that time, a friend had been reading his own favorite books aloud, so Zhao Jin had absorbed a lot of knowledge outside his own interests and expertise.

This knowledge of battle formations ought to be very important. Although Zhao Jin did not understand much about history, he did know that it was precisely during the Ming and Qing dynasties that Western military strength began to surpass that of the East. Moreover, that friend had said with great enthusiasm that even without firearms, those elite European infantry units were incomparably formidable.

He was going to learn martial arts, so this kind of battle formation knowledge absolutely had to be preserved. Zhao Jin also noticed one point: whether Spanish or Swiss, these so-called elite infantry all emphasized the use of the long spear. In that case, didn't it mean that his current path of learning the long spear was the right one?

Back when that friend had shown him illustrations, there had also been examples of infantry spear-holding stances. These could not be drawn with a brush, so he had to find a nail and carve them onto the counter.

Looking at the patterns on the wooden board one by one, Zhao Jin couldn't help but want to laugh. They looked very much like those secret manuals carved onto stone tablets in wuxia novels.

Apart from that, Zhao Jin felt very much at ease staying in this empty warehouse and shop. This was his own space, where he could think and do as he pleased. What was rather interesting was that Mu Shulan strongly disliked going inside; the little girl felt it was gloomy in there, and far too dusty and unclean.

When he came out on the morning of the twenty-third day of the tenth month, Zhao Jin saw many people going in and out of a residence on the neighboring street. It seemed someone was cleaning, and ox- and horse-drawn carts were hauling in all sorts of household items one after another.

At the dining table, he heard the reason. "What these scholars think, I really can't figure out. Not going to the Yunlong Mountain side, but insisting on coming to the North Gate area to live." "With his status, he could live comfortably in Yangzhou or Jiangnan. What's he doing coming back to this run-down place, Xuzhou?"

So that residence was indeed where that capital official was going to live. This news genuinely surprised Zhao Jin. He knew there was a folk rhyme in Xuzhou city: "South Gate poor, North Gate rich, all the officials live on Hubu Hill."

Xuzhou city sat by the Yellow River and had been repeatedly flooded when the river overflowed, so places not easily submerged became prime locations. Xuzhou city was built along Yunlong Mountain, high in the north and low in the south. The side of the city by Yunlong Mountain was Hubu Hill, hence the saying.

It was only later, as his parents chatted idly, that Zhao Jin understood why that capital official did this — because the old master had been a man of the North Gate since childhood, and it carried a sense of longing for his hometown.

From this idle chat, Zhao Jin finally learned that this capital official's surname was Wang. He had no close relatives in Xuzhou, and his clan's numbers were not very prosperous.

At noon on the twenty-fifth day of the tenth month, Zhao Jin was walking home with his uncle for lunch as usual. Mu Shulan, however, did not come along. The little girl had told him very reluctantly the day before that from now on she would have to study every day and could not come out to play often anymore.

Zhao Jin initially thought it was very normal — a seven- or eight-year-old girl had reached the age for learning. But on second thought, he realized something was off. In this era, a woman's lack of talent was a virtue; managing the household and raising children was what was normal. Yet from Mu Shulan's tone, what she was learning was not those things.

Without the little girl by his side, Zhao Jin actually felt quite relaxed. Spending every day with an eight-year-old girl, and one who was very close to him, was very awkward for him.

When uncle and nephew reached the intersection, they saw that up ahead it was already bustling with activity. Outside, carriages and sedan chairs were lined up in a long queue. They could also see bailiffs in black uniforms with red trim and square hats patrolling and inspecting. Zhao Jin even spotted his own father, Zhao Zhentang. Zhao Zhentang was standing at the intersection, hand pressing on the hilt of his saber, chest puffed out and belly thrust forward.

Zhao Jin waved over there to greet him. Zhao Zhentang also noticed his family and hurriedly waved his hand, signaling them to take a detour home.

Seeing all this, Zhao Jin finally realized: that retired capital official had returned.

At dinner, with the day's events as a pretext, Zhao Jin could finally ask questions. They were, after all, practically neighbors, and He Cuihua was also very interested, asking questions nonstop herself.

Wang Youshan, styled "Old Man of Wangshan," had held the post of Censor in the capital. It was said that after failing to secure a certain official position against a rival, he resigned and returned to his hometown. Wang Youshan's first wife had passed away early, and he had not remarried. He had one son, and father and son depended on each other.

As a bailiff on street-quieting duty outside, Zhao Zhentang only knew this much. He Cuihua sighed a few times about how pitiful it was. Like most women, she always had a good impression of a man who did not take a concubine after his wife's death, and she even elaborated on her own, saying, "This Master Wang must surely be an honest official!"

"Long hair, short sense. Have you ever seen an honest official move house with several hundred large chests, with dozens of maids and servants at his beck and call? How could a family estate like that be built on salary alone?" Zhao Zhentang scoffed at her words.

The next day during his morning run, Zhao Jin passed by the Wang family's front gate and saw that the dilapidated and old gate from days before had been completely refurbished. Lanterns were also hung out front, with the character "Wang" written on them.

Perhaps hearing the footsteps outside, the gatekeeper even opened the door and looked out.

When he returned for lunch, they still had to take a detour. According to Zhao Zhentang, people had come not just from Xuzhou, but from the four counties under Xuzhou's jurisdiction — Feng, Pei, Xiao, and Dang — as well as from Huai'an Prefecture, Yangzhou Prefecture, and even Fengyang Prefecture. This social standing was truly considerable. Zhao Zhentang was full of complaints, because the more honored guests there were, the busier bailiffs like them became. As an executioner, he not only had no lucrative assignments, but even his chances for earning extra income on the side were gone.

Zhao Jin, for his part, marveled at this "retired capital official's" network. Such a grand style of socializing was truly impressive.

Impressive as it was, life still had to go on. At the midday sparring session, a few more of the youths were absent.

In this session, Zhao Jin once again defeated Ji Xiang in the quarterfinals. Among these youths, Zhao Jin's strength and technique had improved the fastest. But the ones who made it to the final were Sun Dalei and Chen Sheng. A strange smile appeared on Zhao Jin's face. The few youths nearby found it a bit odd; they certainly could not have imagined that Zhao Jin was thinking of the place name "Hefei."

Chen Sheng and Sun Dalei were the two strongest among the youths. Due to his body weight, Sun Dalei's strength was superior, though not by much — their power was roughly equal. Chen Sheng's speed was no less than those leaner youths, and his martial skill went without saying. Everyone assumed the outcome was already clear.

Unexpectedly, when the two fought, Sun Dalei slowly took a few hits, then seized an opportunity to grapple with Chen Sheng. In the past, Chen Sheng could quickly break free and counterattack, but unexpectedly this time Sun Dalei managed to lock his arm. Just as Chen Sheng was about to throw a punch, Sun Dalei extended his leg to trip him and rammed his shoulder into Chen Sheng.

This combination of moves made it impossible for Chen Sheng to keep his balance. His whole body toppled backward, and he hit the ground and conceded.

"Sun Dalei, you've been learning sumo wrestling?" Chen Sheng sat up from the ground and immediately shouted. Chen Sheng was now much more philosophical about victory and defeat.

Sun Dalei laughed smugly. The youths around them had grown tired of Chen Sheng's victories. The moment they saw the normally amiable Sun Dalei take first place, they burst into thunderous cheers.

As the cheers rang out, Sun Dalei grew even more excited. Taking first place before had been one thing, but lately everyone had been saying Chen Sheng was unbeatable, and that probably only Zhao Jin could defeat him. This victory really earned him face.

After his moment of pride, Sun Dalei imitated what Zhao Jin usually did and stepped forward to pull Chen Sheng up.

Today, Zhao Jin did not leave. He very much wanted to watch the fight between Chen Sheng and Sun Dalei. The result surprised him a little as well. Just as he was about to leave, he heard Sun Dalei declare with heroic spirit, "Tomorrow I'll bring some snacks too. It's not right to always let you and Zhao Jin be the ones bringing things."