Chapter 29: A Chance Encounter

If Sun Dalei had tried this a few days ago, Zhao Jin would certainly have stopped him, but now it didn't really matter. It was actually a good way to share the load and make his own intentions less obvious. With that thought, Zhao Jin smiled and greeted them, then turned to leave.

As he turned, he happened to see a man and a woman escorting Mu Shulan over. The pair were in their forties, dressed in bulky padded jackets and looking quite healthy, as if they came from a slightly above-average household in the city. But they were clearly not Mu Shulan's elders, because their attitude toward the little girl was very deferential, while the little girl carried herself with great authority and wore a sour expression.

In Zhao Jin's memory, Mu Shulan was a well-behaved and sensible girl. He had never expected to see her acting so imperiously. Just as he was staring in surprise, Mu Shulan waved the two off, and the man and woman bowed with ingratiating smiles before leaving. The little girl turned around, and the moment Mu Shulan saw Zhao Jin, a sweet smile immediately bloomed on her face. She ran over quickly and said, "Brother Xiaojin, learning stuff these past few days has been so boring. Watching the martial arts matches is way more fun."

Such a childlike nature. He had just sighed inwardly when Zhao Jin suddenly realized something. The little girl was escorted to and from by her father every day. Judging by their family's clothing and complexion, he had assumed they were a household of moderate means. But seeing today's scene, it was probably not that simple. Any family that could afford servants couldn't be too poor. And thinking again of his own father and uncle's attitude, the little girl's side was definitely not simple.

Mu Shulan, of course, had no idea how many thoughts had raced through Zhao Jin's mind in that brief moment. Smiling cheerfully, she took hold of Zhao Jin's hand and walked with him toward the training ground. Zhao Jin was gradually getting used to this intimacy, while the little girl found it perfectly natural.

Men and women should not touch hands when giving or receiving, and strict segregation between the sexes was the rule. Although Zhao Jin and Mu Shulan were both very young, their closeness still drew eyes. A newly arrived youth said with a teasing laugh, "A little couple, and such a pretty little wife."

Before he could finish, the fierce glares of the other youths shut him up. Zhao Jin's prestige among the boys was very high, and everyone still clearly remembered the bloody nose and mouth Liu Yong had suffered after saying something similar.

Zhao Zhenxing's health was poor in winter. After lunch at the Zhao house, he usually went to the side room to rest. This gave Zhao Jin much more leeway at noon, and the two of them no longer had to rush back in a hurry.

The little girl chattered away about idle things, but what Zhao Jin found interesting was that Mu Shulan was very tight-lipped. She wouldn't mention what exactly she had been learning these past few days, only saying that she had cried, fussed, and begged just to get it changed from a full day to a half day.

As they were walking, they saw two middle-aged men in blue robes and small caps escorting a youth coming toward them. The blue robes and small caps were the attire of servants. These two servants wore well-tailored padded gowns and, surprisingly, leather boots, and were very neatly groomed. The youth made Zhao Jin look a few extra times: his hair was bound with a silver crown, and he wore a sapphire-blue front-buttoned long gown.

Setting everything else aside, his attire alone told you this youth came from an extraordinary background, not to mention the refinement and bearing revealed in his every gesture. Zhao Jin had never seen a person like this in this lifetime; he had only encountered a few in that other life.

The youth was handsome, with a fair complexion, red lips, white teeth, and eyes as bright as stars. He truly looked like someone out of a painting.

Jia Baoyu? For some reason, that name surfaced in Zhao Jin's mind. This young nobleman's image was quite similar to the portrayals in film and television adaptations of Dream of the Red Chamber and its book illustrations.

What was even rarer was that, despite his exquisite grooming and handsome looks, this youth had not a trace of the dandy or the effeminate about him. Instead, he was strikingly heroic, his eyes exceptionally spirited.

"Brother Xiaojin, he's so pretty," Mu Shulan whispered to Zhao Jin. The two parties were just brushing past each other. Though her voice was low, the youth heard it and glanced their way. The little girl immediately blushed crimson and hid behind Zhao Jin, too shy to come out.

The youth smiled and nodded. Zhao Jin instinctively nodded back. At this age, in this era, a youth who could deal with strangers so calmly and composedly was a rare sight indeed.

"I didn't expect to see such figures in Xuzhou as well." Hearing the youth's words to his family servant, Zhao Jin paused for a moment before realizing they were talking about him and Mu Shulan.

Compared to the slovenly, unkempt youths, Zhao Jin was always neat and clean, and Mu Shulan was even more meticulously dressed. What set them apart from their peers was that Zhao Jin possessed a steady calm, while Mu Shulan was innocently charming. These two temperaments were also quite rare, so the youth's remark was not surprising.

That line actually made Zhao Jin relax a little. This tone of pretending to be an adult showed that the other party was still a child. No matter who you are, facing a too-perfect existence always brings pressure.

"Young master, that place isn't far now; we're almost there." The voices faded, and the people walked into the distance.

Zhao Jin and Mu Shulan kept looking back. Once the people were far away, the little girl asked curiously, "Brother Xiaojin, who was that?"

"I don't know. He doesn't seem like he's from around Xuzhou," Zhao Jin replied. He suddenly recalled that those people had been speaking the official dialect. Never seen before, and speaking the official dialect—he had a rough idea now.

Two more days passed. The guests in front of the Wang family gate did not decrease; instead, there were even more. This was not surprising. In this era, travel time was measured in days, and people from the surrounding prefectures and counties were only just now arriving.

Zhao Jin had already stopped his morning runs on the road in front of the Wang house. When he got up to run, the sky was still dark, yet even at that early hour, there were already people waiting at the gate with visiting cards in hand. On the other hand, Zhao Jin had decided to increase his training load. The distance he used to run in the morning could now be completed with ease. The body of a martial family was indeed good. Though he had been weak before, with intensified training and proper nutrition, his physique improved very quickly.

This morning, Mu Shulan did not come; she was probably learning something at home. Zhao Zhenxing came to pick Zhao Jin up and they went together. Learning martial arts was still very tedious. The new drills from a few days ago, once subjected to heavy repetition, were no longer so interesting.

What Zhao Jin found a little surprising was that his usually taciturn uncle, Zhao Zhenxing, had suddenly become talkative. While Zhao Jin trained, Zhao Zhenxing stood to the side and talked incessantly.

"... Grandpa Yue said, if you can hold your spear steady on the battlefield and still have spit in your mouth, then you're a good soldier. Lord Qi also said, when it comes to battle, even the best martial skill is useless. You're in the formation, and only by moving as one, keeping the formation unbroken, can you advance and kill. That's all true..."

"... When you really go into battle, you need a full set of armor. Remember, even if you have to borrow money, buy a set of silk underclothes. With that silk underclothes, if you're shot by an arrow, it's easier to pull the arrowhead out. Silk is tough; if you're lucky, the arrowhead won't pierce through, and when you pull it out, the person suffers less. Otherwise, you'll have to cut out a chunk of flesh..."

Zhao Jin listened very attentively. What his uncle was telling him were all battle examples and practical knowledge from the front lines, and this knowledge could be corroborated with his memories. He had learned quite a bit of military knowledge from his friend's reading by his sickbed, and he had recalled a fair amount as well. But for Zhao Jin, who had no foundation, he mostly knew the facts without understanding the principles behind them. Now, with his uncle telling those real examples, Zhao Jin found that he was beginning to understand.

Having someone tell you battle examples and personal experiences during the tedious martial training process made it interesting. Zhao Jin also discovered another interesting point: the similarities between the Swiss and Spanish square formations, the military concepts of Prince Maurice of the Netherlands, and Qi Jiguang's military methods were remarkably numerous.

But he couldn't let his mind wander while listening. A few times he listened too intently and his movements lost form, and Uncle Zhao Zhenxing's rattan cane lashed down without mercy. Because the stories were so vivid, Zhao Jin got absorbed and was hit a good dozen times or so. Zhao Jin thought, a little aggrieved, could it be that Uncle was telling these things precisely to test his concentration?

In the midst of recounting these matters, Zhao Zhenxing coughed violently several times. Zhao Jin clearly saw traces of blood on his uncle's palm. The illness was very serious!

"Uncle, are you alright?" By now, Zhao Jin had fully integrated. His parents were his parents, his uncle was his uncle; they were all his own closest kin.

"It's nothing. An old injury from before. It acts up like this whenever the weather turns cold. Your form is off again—don't lose focus. If this were a real battlefield, you'd be dead by now!" Zhao Zhenxing answered briefly before roaring at him.

This was also something Zhao Jin found strange. His uncle had suddenly become so strict.

Still, the morning's gains were truly considerable. Zhao Jin thought he should find some time to go to that abandoned shop and record all these useful things on the counter.