Chapter 47: Appreciation

"Three days from now, this humble monk will come back for the money. If there's no money, I'll take your daughter to settle the debt. Your daughter looks like she has an affinity with the Buddha — go cultivate at Cloud Mountain Temple for a few years and you won't even have to repay the loan." Monk Runing said with a lecherous chuckle.

"Master, please, no..." The shopkeeper panicked the moment he heard this and was about to step forward to beg, but another kick sent him curling up on the ground, unable to move.

Zhao Jin and the Chen Sheng brothers watched, utterly dumbfounded. It was one thing for street thugs and scoundrels to act this way, but they never expected a monk to behave like this. Zhao Jin even compared these two monks to that Bronze Head from the south of the city and found that Bronze Head actually seemed kind and amiable by comparison.

Only then did three more people rush out from the shop. One of them was a young girl about the same age as Mu Shulan, who tearfully helped the two people outside back into the shop.

There were other shops open along the street, but when the trouble broke out earlier, a few shop assistants had poked their heads out to look before shrinking back inside. Two pedestrians on the street also turned around and walked away — no one dared to interfere.

Seeing this scene, Zhao Jin and the Chen Sheng brothers couldn't help but quicken their pace, not wanting to linger here any longer. Only after they had passed this street did Chen Sheng whisper, "No wonder my father says the monks of Cloud Mountain Temple can't be crossed."

Zhao Jin had also heard his parents mention Cloud Mountain Temple a few times, but only that its incense offerings were very prosperous. He never imagined the monks of Cloud Mountain Temple could be so brazenly tyrannical.

Having witnessed his own father's authority and seen the ways of jianghu men like Bronze Head, and now thinking about how these monks were so recklessly collecting debts and seizing people right here in Xuzhou City, he could well imagine the power of Cloud Mountain Temple.

He didn't have time to dwell on it — the goods yard was already before his eyes. When he looked up, Zhao Jin was somewhat surprised: the number of youths on the yard had increased by nearly a third compared to yesterday.

Safety, a chance to eat fine pastries, watching exciting sparring matches, an opportunity to win and make a name for oneself, and the chance to see some rare and notable figures — of course everyone was willing to come to a place like this.

After those youths went home yesterday, the news spread from one to ten, and ten to a hundred. Children's talk is naturally prone to exaggeration, and this place was blown up to be something rarely found between heaven and earth. Naturally, more people came today. That said, those who could go out in such cold weather generally came from decent family circumstances, or else were sturdy enough to withstand it.

Someone spotted Zhao Jin from a distance and murmured a word. Everyone turned to look, and when they saw the bamboo armor and protective gear on Zhao Jin, a stir immediately ran through the crowd. A few of the more familiar ones quickened their steps toward him.

"You actually got yourself a suit of armor — wait, is it made of bamboo?"

"Where did you get it made? How much did it cost?"

A few boys from well-off families fired off questions in a flurry. Wang Zhaojing didn't say anything, but he stood to the side listening intently, clearly wanting to get a set for himself.

Zhao Jin noticed that Dong Bingfeng, who had come yesterday, was here as well. He was still wearing his leather armor, and his two personal soldiers, holding wooden staves, sat far off by the roadside, glancing this way from time to time.

Even though Dong Bingfeng was wearing leather armor, he was still gazing over eagerly. Zhao Jin's bamboo armor set, though simple, was a complete suit, and its shape was quite imposing — any boy fond of martial pursuits would take a liking to it at first glance.

Zhao Jin didn't go around broadcasting it, only telling a few close friends how to make this bamboo armor and whom to seek out for it.

This protective gear was meant specifically for weapons sparring. Telling others about it wouldn't do them much good, but if someone wanted to wear it just to look impressive, that was up to them. However, wearing this set of protective gear for bare-handed brawling would put one at a serious disadvantage.

"My leg still isn't right. I won't be competing today — I'll just handle the drawing of lots," Zhao Jin announced.

Hearing this, Wang Zhaojing clutched his chest and said with a rueful smile, "Even breathing hurts for me right now. I won't fight today either."

The jar of wooden lots and the pastries were now kept at the Chen household. Every day, a servant would deliver them here before the matches. As soon as they saw Zhao Jin arrive, a few of the younger boys had already carried these items up onto the earthen platform.

Just as Zhao Jin was about to call for the drawing of lots, Shi Manqiang and Ji Xiang, standing on either side, chuckled, each grabbed one of his arms, and lifted his hands into the air. Liu Yong shouted toward the crowd below, "Yesterday's champion is Zhao Jin!"

The youths below all knew Zhao Jin was the core of this place and admired his conduct and prowess even more. Hearing this, they all joined in the fun, shouting, "Zhao Jin, mighty and powerful!"

They chanted it three times in a row. Even the Dong family's personal soldiers sitting far off were startled, thinking something had happened over here, and hurriedly stood up to look.

As for the newcomer Dong Bingfeng, he watched this scene with a face full of envy. Anyone could guess what he was thinking: When will I be able to be like that?

With two strong contenders, Zhao Jin and Wang Zhaojing, resting, that meant two spots among the top eight were opening up. Everyone's enthusiasm immediately soared, and they all eagerly signed up to compete.

Today, there was jostling and scrambling just to grab the lots, and even scuffles broke out — it was practically a preliminary round before the first round even began.

Although Dong Bingfeng had lost yesterday, he was no slouch in the jostling and quickly got his hands on a lot. Nothing else was out of the ordinary. After Zhao Jin finished handling this, he took off his bamboo armor, found a rock to sit on, and watched the youths sparring. Wang Zhaojing, who had been standing to the side, also walked over and sat down beside him.

"In which year was Brother Zhao born?" Wang Zhaojing spoke first.

Zhao Jin did a quick mental calculation and replied, "The second month of the twenty-eighth year. What about Brother Wang?"

"I didn't expect Brother Zhao to be six months older than me. From now on, I shall address you as Elder Brother Zhao," Wang Zhaojing said with a smile, picking up the thread.

Zhao Jin smiled and nodded, saying, "... We are good friends."

Zhao Jin could naturally grasp the intent to forge a friendship in these words. Though it was a youthful sentiment, for someone this age to know how to conduct themselves in such a way was already quite remarkable. Moreover, this wealthy young master's attitude had changed considerably from the very beginning.

When Wang Zhaojing first arrived at this goods yard, he had tried to outdo everyone in everything, to show he was different, and there was also an intent to win people over. As the son of a capital official's family, he had seen plenty of scheming and infighting. Immersed in such an environment, he inevitably harbored many roundabout and convoluted thoughts. Was Wang Zhaojing doing all this out of a youth's competitive drive, or did he have other plans?

Thinking this far, Zhao Jin gave a self-deprecating laugh. At this age, how could there be so much complexity? Better to keep things simple.

When Wang Zhaojing heard Zhao Jin say the words "all friends," he immediately brightened, leaned in closer, and said, "Elder Brother Zhao is truly remarkable. Even in the capital, your younger brother never saw sparring matches like this. Everyone over there around my age was terribly dull — all they did was compare their elders' official ranks or compare food, clothing, and luxuries. Being with them always made me feel stifled. When I came back here with my father, although my mother and concubines were all unhappy about it, and this place truly can't compare to the capital in any way, ever since arriving here, I've found everything fresh and new, and the world feels wider..."

Listening to the other boy talk on and on, Zhao Jin could sense he was speaking from the heart. The stifled feeling of a lively youth in the capital, the excitement of coming here — it was all expressed very clearly.

"... Elder Brother Zhao, why did you organize this sparring competition?" Wang Zhaojing finally asked this question.

Zhao Jin looked at him. The boy's face held only curiosity and innocence. Zhao Jin smiled and replied, "I've had no brothers since I was little, always alone and lonely. I wanted to make more friends. See, by holding this competition, everyone's grown much closer."

Wang Zhaojing nodded repeatedly and said in agreement, "Indeed. Without this competition, your younger brother would never have had the chance to get to know Elder Brother Zhao, Chen Sheng, or Sun Dalei, Shi Manqiang, Ji Xiang, and Liu Yong — let alone have such a great time sparring together. Elder Brother Zhao is truly talented to have come up with this. From the very first moment I learned of this competition, I felt it was no ordinary thing. The rules for drawing lots, the rules for prizes — every one of them is remarkable."

It should be noted that Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng were merely the sons of yamen runners, which technically counted as a base servile occupation, while Shi Manqiang and Ji Xiang and the others were considered commoners of good standing. Yet in terms of real social status, the gap between them was as vast as heaven and earth.

And between Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng on one side, and Wang Zhaojing and Dong Bingfeng on the other, the difference was even greater. Under normal circumstances, if the parents had no dealings with each other, they would never let their children associate.

But with this competition, things were different. It was essentially children playing among themselves, and the adults couldn't very well be too strict about it. Overly restraining them would only make their own families seem petty.

It was precisely because of this that there was such a spirited atmosphere of youths competing against one another, and why Wang Zhaojing, this wealthy young master returned from the capital, found it so fresh and so brimming with vitality.

The youth's praise came from the heart, and Zhao Jin felt a bit carried away himself. Scratching his head, he said, "I also did it so everyone could have fun and so those learning martial arts would have a place to test themselves."

Happy as he was, his answer still kept to its proper measure.