Chapter 49: Real Life

For the next two days, Zhao Jin still didn't step into the arena. His muscle and bone injuries were more troublesome than he'd imagined. According to Zhao Zhenxing, Zhao Jin was lucky to have someone knowledgeable by his side — if the injury hadn't been treated promptly, it would have turned into a chronic ailment over time.

Wang Zhaojing's injuries weren't light either, but the Wang family's treatment methods were presumably more comprehensive, and Wang Zhaojing recovered very quickly as well.

During those two days, Zhao Jin and Wang Zhaojing chatted there, and Chen Sheng and the other youths who regularly made the top eight or sixteen would drop by during breaks. Zhao Jin didn't want to talk about ambitions and such anymore, and Wang Zhaojing's speech was far too refined — chatting with him was exhausting — so he just told the youths some stories.

The intricately woven, brilliantly exciting stories quickly captured the youths' attention. This was something that transcended the era, so of course its impact was immense. The same myths, the same tales of chivalry — hearing them told this way made one's blood boil and impossible to stop listening.

As a result, some youths actually started losing on purpose, afraid of missing the stories. This made Zhao Jin immediately stop telling long sagas, and he kept his eyes on the tournament grounds, not letting his stories disrupt the matches.

Today was the thirteenth of the eleventh month. When Zhao Jin got up early to run and stretch his legs, he found that the injury on his leg had completely healed. Before breakfast, Zhao Jin thought of something and ran back to his side room, taking out the two hundred newly minted coins stored in the kang cabinet and tucking them into his chest.

When he arrived at the training grounds, he saw oil-paper-wrapped slices of braised pig heart. Zhao Zhenxing smiled and said, "Delivered by Old Li the bamboo-weaver from Scissors Bend. He said that after making that bamboo armor set for you, business has been nonstop these past few days — all wealthy households coming to buy, willing to pay good silver, letting him earn quite a bit. This year will be a comfortable one. You found him the business and taught him how to make the armor, so he sent this specially as thanks."

"At lunch, Second Uncle, let's have the whole family eat it together," Zhao Jin said with a smile.

Zhao Zhenxing leaned on his long pole, looking at his sensible nephew. After a moment of thought, he asked, "If that bamboo armor of yours were soaked in oil, its defensive effectiveness against weapons would greatly increase. If inlaid with wooden boards and iron plates, it could even stop arrows. Such armor is far better than crudely made cotton armor. With such a good method, don't you want to keep it secret?"

"What good method is that? It can't stop spear thrusts or firearms at all. Iron armor is still what's needed," Zhao Jin answered offhandedly.

Zhao Zhenxing fell silent, watching Zhao Jin for a while. Then a smile surfaced on his face again, and he nodded, saying, "Xiao Jin, your ambitions are not small."

Zhao Jin laughed dryly, cursing himself inwardly for losing control again. The longer time passed, the more his mindset resembled a child's, as if the environment was assimilating him. Zhao Jin warned himself to be cautious — he must think before speaking from now on.

But Zhao Zhenxing's words stopped there; he didn't press further. After the morning's training, the two of them took the package of cooked food home for lunch.

When Chen Sheng came looking for Zhao Jin, he scared the monkey in Zhao Jin's yard into shrieking wildly — because Chen Sheng was wearing very impressive bamboo armor.

Zhao Jin's own set had looked decent enough, but compared to Chen Sheng's, it was far too crude. Even Zhao Zhentang and Zhao Zhenxing stood up to take a look. Chen Sheng's bamboo armor imitated the mountain-pattern armor style, with several spots on the body even sporting plausible-looking heart-protecting mirrors and beast motifs. It was also brushed with tung oil, making it look almost like iron armor from a distance.

As it happened, when their group reached the street, they again saw the two monks from a few days ago. But besides Ru Ning and Ru Nan, there was also a two-man sedan chair parked outside, with an old serving woman standing beside it.

From far off, they could hear the sounds of wailing and cursing. Four burly men in earth-brown monk robes were dragging a young girl out of a shop, followed by the shopkeeper's family, crying their hearts out. The moment any of them got close, the burly men would punch and kick them.

After stuffing the young girl into the sedan chair, the burly men lifted it. Monk Ru Ning said viciously, "What are you crying for? Letting your daughter go cultivate is your family's good fortune. Lord Buddha is merciful — you only need to repay the silver you owe by the third month next year."

"... Still have to repay the silver? Wasn't the person used to settle the debt..."

"Do you understand what a grace period is? Giving you four months — that's benevolence, understand?" Monk Ru Nan's voice suddenly rose sharply from the side.

The shopkeeper swayed and collapsed, sitting paralyzed on the ground. His family immediately swarmed around him, wailing in grief.

This time, there wasn't even a single onlooker on the street — only Zhao Jin and his group. They could hear the shouting and crying very clearly. Ru Ning and Ru Nan glanced this way, but seeing it was just children, paid no mind and swaggered off.

Abducting a commoner's daughter in broad daylight — this must be what it looked like. Zhao Jin felt deeply shaken. The young girl taken away was no older than Mu Shulan; he had seen that very clearly.

"We can't interfere. That day I went back and asked my dad. He said even the Prefect himself doesn't dare meddle with Cloud Mountain Temple. And the two of us can't beat them anyway," Chen Sheng whispered beside him.

Chen Sheng thought Zhao Jin wanted to act heroically and quickly tried to dissuade him. Zhao Jin felt a bit embarrassed — he hadn't realized his image was that noble in his friends' eyes.

Of course they couldn't interfere. Six burly monks — how could the two of them possibly win? And what Chen Sheng said about Cloud Mountain Temple's power alarmed him even more. The Prefect didn't dare interfere, running rampant through Xuzhou — that was the swagger of a major local tyrant. Even if he dared interfere with such a force, it would bring trouble to his own family. Zhao Jin wasn't about to suddenly let hot blood rush to his head.

Besides, Zhao Jin had noticed something else. He said quietly to Chen Sheng, "Don't think that family is pitiful either. You see him grieving, but that shopkeeper also had the intention of using his daughter to pay the debt."

Chen Sheng's eyes went wide. Zhao Jin gestured for them to start walking. Once they left that street, he added, "That shopkeeper's family wailed and cried, but they didn't try to tear her away or snatch her back. That pitiful act was put on for the neighbors. As for the end, when he realized it wouldn't cancel the debt, that's when he collapsed. So they're not necessarily that pitiful — the truly pitiful one is that daughter."

"How did you see that? I didn't notice any of it." Chen Sheng's mouth could have fit an entire egg, he was so astonished.

"If you look carefully, you can see it," Zhao Jin explained with a smile. Back then, climbing from the grassroots to middle management, and working in external-facing departments — without the ability to observe details, you wouldn't make it.

But Chen Sheng wouldn't accept this explanation. He was clearly starting to see Zhao Jin as some kind of divine strategist and pestered him the whole way to teach him.

The scene at the goods yard actually startled Zhao Jin. Over a dozen youths were strutting around in bamboo armor — even Wang Zhaojing had gotten himself a set. It seemed young men fond of martial arts couldn't escape this trend.

Chen Sheng had thought his own set was the best, but upon seeing Sun Dalei's, he immediately grew unhappy. Sun Dalei's armor was in the bright-brilliance armor style, adorned with quite a bit of leather and cloth, with a large red lion design on the chest — exceptionally imposing.

The reason Zhao Jin knew so many armor styles was also related to Zhao Zhenxing's instruction. He knew that Ming army officers' armor had certain regulations, but what the government issued was all crudely made. Anyone with means would commission their own set, resulting in a great variety.

"Wearing this for unarmed combat is a hindrance. It's only useful for weapon sparring," Zhao Jin reminded them. The dozen or so youths wearing protective gear all raised the wooden sticks in their hands, of varying lengths.

Those who could equip this were all from well-off families. Clearly, everyone still treated this as play — the prestige of wearing armor was far more important than training or anything else.

When Sun Dalei raised his weapon, everyone was somewhat dumbstruck. It looked like a great hammer — a six-chi-long wooden shaft with a hammerhead bound from leather and thick cloth at the top. Paired with Sun Dalei's large, stout frame, it was truly awe-inspiring.