Chapter 5: Practicing Martial Arts

"Do you submit..." Zhao Jin almost blurted out those words. Though the scuffle just now had been crude, it made him feel as if he had returned to his childhood in that other life. Catching himself, Zhao Jin let out a rueful laugh. The tension and viciousness of the tussle instantly dissipated, and his whole body relaxed. Zhao Jin took a deep breath and tried to push himself up off Chen Sheng.

He hadn't felt it during the fight, but when he pushed up and put strength into his arms, the spot where the short stick had struck him earlier felt like it was broken, hurting terribly. Zhao Jin hastily withdrew his hands and collapsed back onto Chen Sheng. That little fatty, however, paid no attention to Zhao Jin; he just covered his face and kept saying, "You cheated! You cheated!"

The children gathered around to watch the excitement had been cheering and gasping moments before, but now there was dead silence. Every one of them stood with mouths agape, their faces full of disbelief. By the rules of children's fights, when both fell down, the one on top was considered the winner, and whoever cried first lost. Now Chen Sheng was covering his face, and Zhao Jin was on top — clearly, Zhao Jin had won!

That usually thin, weak, and timid Zhao family boy had actually beaten Chen Sheng, who had never lost before. The children simply couldn't wrap their heads around it for a moment; they all stood there dumbfounded.

With a loud "Waa!", Chen Sheng's younger brother Chen Hong burst into tears. Chen Hong ran over, grabbed Zhao Jin, and tried to drag him off, crying and shouting, "Let go of my brother! Let go of my brother!"

Gritting his teeth and enduring the pain, Zhao Jin finally managed to climb to his feet. Seeing him stand, Chen Hong hurried to help his own brother up. Chen Sheng had already recovered. He wiped his face haphazardly with his sleeve, smearing tears, snot, and dirt into a comical, painted mess. Chen Sheng patted Chen Hong's head and said in a muffled voice, "Er Hong, I'm fine!"

Only upon hearing this did Chen Hong stop crying. Chen Sheng then fixed his gaze on Zhao Jin. Zhao Jin couldn't help but take a step back, thinking that this little fatty was strong and knew martial arts; if they fought seriously, his current body would be no match for him. Unexpectedly, Chen Sheng rubbed his nose and said, "Zhao Jin, you cheated. A proper duel is fought move for move. But you still won. I'll give you the osmanthus candy and sesame cakes, and then we'll fight again!"

Zhao Jin wanted to laugh, but as soon as he cracked a smile, his arm and back throbbed with pain, twisting his features into a very strange expression. A child's thinking is so naive and amusing. In a real fight, who cares about moves and routines? Winning is all that matters. Still, this incident showed that Chen Sheng had a decent character; he truly could be a friend worth making.

Over on his side, Chen Sheng picked up his short stick and, tugging the tear-wiping Chen Hong along, went straight home. The other children were quiet for a moment, then all crowded around Zhao Jin, chattering noisily to get on his good side.

Zhao Jin understood this scene well. The winner of a fight always gets curried favor with by the others. It seemed this was the same from ancient times to the present. But he had no mind to pay attention to these children, because several places on his body were aching, and he was covered head to toe in dirt. Going home, he would certainly get a long scolding from his mother, He Cuihua. Just thinking about it annoyed him.

In the past, Zhao Jin wouldn't have dared to make a sound among these children at the freight yard. If others didn't let him leave, he wouldn't dare to go. But now, though Zhao Jin was mindful of himself, he opened his mouth and said, "I'm leaving!" Yet in the eyes of the other children, he seemed very assertive and mature. Coupled with having just beaten Chen Sheng, no one dared say anything, and they just watched him go.

They had come as three, but he returned alone. Zhao Jin grimaced in pain. He recalled again his uncle Zhao Zhenxing's words about "making more friends." Over these past few days, Zhao Jin had observed from various things that his father, Zhao Zhentang, and his mother, He Cuihua, both had rather bad tempers and always thought they were in the right. Yet they greatly valued his uncle Zhao Zhenxing's opinions; whenever he said something, everyone listened very seriously.

In that other life, he had been an adult, had seen much and understood much, but the vast majority of that experience and ability was useless in the Wanli era of the Great Ming. He could only observe and listen more. Since his uncle Zhao Zhenxing's opinions were valued, there must be reason in them. Zhao Jin listened and followed them very earnestly.

The Zhao family could only be considered a well-off household. Their status as a military household and executioners was very lowly. The gentry and great families naturally had no desire to associate with the Zhaos. The only ones they could play with were those children at the freight yard. But the former Zhao Jin was weak in both body and character, and very taciturn. That demeanor meant he simply couldn't fit in with those wildly playing freight yard children. Every time he went, he was very isolated. Thinking back carefully, it was only that Chen Sheng who always took the initiative to greet him and play together.

Zhao Jin couldn't help but smile wryly again. He had been smiling wryly far too many times these past few days. Never mind the fact that he had to swallow his pride and befriend little children; even if he wanted to, given how poor their past relationship was, making friends would truly not be easy.

Turning out of the freight yard and crossing two streets, Zhao Jin's arm and back finally recovered a little. Rolling up his sleeve, he saw his left arm was already bruised black and blue. He had thought the duel was just children playing and hitting randomly; he never expected that kid Chen Sheng knew martial arts and had clearly trained. It looked like he had the upper hand, but in reality, he had come out worse off.

Zhao Jin didn't want to dwell too much on the fight just now, even though he had been quite stirred up during the scuffle. He still intended to figure out his goal for this life as quickly as possible and then work hard at it. After all, Zhao Jin had already resolved to strive and rise, not wanting to give up halfway like in that other life, nor wanting to just muddle through a bland, mediocre existence.

He walked forward two steps, then suddenly stopped, standing there frozen. Zhao Jin had suddenly figured something out. What his life's goal was still needed consideration, but what he needed to do right now, he had already understood clearly.

He must learn martial arts. He must strengthen himself. Through the scuffle with Chen Sheng just now, Zhao Jin had suddenly realized: this was not the modern era. There was no good public order here, no abundant material supply, no complete set of social rules and relatively fair laws. He could not apply everything from that other life to this place. The most critical thing for him was to strengthen himself. First, he had to be able to protect himself. Without that, nothing else was worth mentioning.

Zhao Jin smacked his own forehead with his hand. He should have figured out this logic long ago. The path of scholarly study and imperial examinations? His grades in his previous life had been poor, let alone studying the Four Books, Five Classics, and eight-legged essays under a completely different system. As for going into business and trade, he knew nothing at all. The farthest place the child Zhao Jin had ever been was merely the freight yard; his experience was shallow, and he had no idea where to even begin. What he could do now, and what he most ought to do, was practice martial arts.

Thinking of this, Zhao Jin recalled his uncle Zhao Zhenxing's words at lunch: "In these current times, having a strong body and learning a martial art is what truly matters." This statement made Zhao Jin feel even more that his line of thinking was correct.

Were these times not good? Zhao Jin knew that Wanli was not the last emperor of the Ming dynasty, and that after Ming came Qing. He also knew that when dynasties changed, the world fell into great chaos. But when would the dynasty change? Zhao Jin racked his brains trying to remember, vaguely recalling bits and pieces. In that other life, he had passively listened to many audiobooks in his sickbed, but he couldn't remember clearly.

Covered in filth, Zhao Jin did not go straight home. Instead, he went to his uncle Zhao Zhenxing's place. Speaking of which, even if a shop had no business, the manager and clerks should normally be there. Yet at the place where his uncle was, one could hardly see anyone coming or going.

The back courtyard gate of the shop was wide open. Seeing no one, Zhao Jin walked straight in. The courtyard was also empty, desolate and quiet. Zhao Jin didn't know where his uncle was. Just as he was about to call out, the door of a small room on the north side of the courtyard was pushed open, and Zhao Zhenxing walked out, greeting him with a smile: "Xiao Jin, you've come. What brings you here?"

"Second Uncle, why is there no one in the shop?" Being a child had this advantage: he could ask whatever he wanted.

Zhao Zhenxing looked around and explained with a smile, "Ever since the Jia Canal was opened, hardly anyone comes to our Xuzhou to do business anymore. This shop couldn't keep going either. The owner went to Jining and left this house for your uncle to look after."

Zhao Jin had heard this more than once. It seemed the desolation of Xuzhou's market was related to the opening of the Jia Canal. But with the limited information he had now, Zhao Jin couldn't figure out the specifics. Although his range of activity these past few days had been small, he could see that most of the shops on the streets were closed, a scene of decay everywhere. It felt just like those old industrial cities he had visited in that other life, utterly lifeless.

Zhao Zhenxing had already noticed that Zhao Jin was covered in dust and had a bit of a bruise on his face. He immediately frowned and asked, "Xiao Jin, what happened to you? Were you bullied?"

The concern in the question warmed Zhao Jin's heart. He answered with a grin, "I wasn't bullied. I had a duel with Chen Sheng, and I won."

Hearing Zhao Jin's answer, his uncle Zhao Zhenxing was taken aback. He pressed further, "That Chen family that runs the charcoal plant?"

What charcoal plant? Zhao Jin had a vague impression and quickly nodded. Zhao Zhenxing, receiving his affirmative response, was even more astonished. His face full of disbelief, he said, "Xiao Jin, it's okay if you were bullied. Your uncle will go reason with them for you. Don't lie to adults."