Chapter 93: Knowing or Not Knowing

But Chen Sheng up ahead acted as if he hadn't heard, continuing on his own, "From now on I'll call you Brother Zhao too."

After saying this, he quickened his pace. Zhao Jin paused, thinking that he was actually a few months younger than Chen Sheng — how had he become "Brother Zhao"? But he didn't argue; hurrying on was what mattered now.

Not long after entering the north of the city, Zhao Jin called the group to a halt and said to Liu Yong, "Take off your clothes and give them to me. Go back and sleep now. Get up early tomorrow. First have Shitou, Daxiang, and the others go to that courtyard of ours, then have Chen Ergou come too. The sooner everyone gets there, the better. Understood?"

"Rest assured, Big Brother!" In these late-night exchanges, they had long since dispensed with formalities, their words carrying the weight of orders given and received, yet everyone found this perfectly natural.

After he finished speaking, he handed the outer garment spattered with blood and flecks of flesh to Zhao Jin. Liu Yong turned and left. The three of them hadn't gone far when Zhao Jin said in a low voice, "Let's go to that courtyard where we train first."

Wang Zhaojing and Chen Sheng, though they didn't know why, still followed along. When they reached the courtyard Zhao Zhentang had left to Zhao Jin, Zhao Jin felt under a stone by the gate, retrieved the key, opened the door quietly and carefully, and gestured for the two of them to go inside.

"Brother Zhao, I really should be getting back soon." "Me too." Wang Zhaojing and Chen Sheng said one after the other.

Zhao Jin turned his head and shushed them. The two immediately fell silent. Zhao Jin, however, raised his voice and said, "We really shouldn't come out this early anymore. You two just stand there yawning — how are you supposed to train?"

Chen Sheng froze. Wang Zhaojing, however, understood at once and answered with a laugh, raising his voice, "Brother Zhao, the ancients rose at the cock's crow to practice. We can't fall short of the ancients!"

Zhao Jin lowered his voice again and said to Chen Sheng, "Help me change out of these bloodied clothes."

Only then did Chen Sheng grasp the meaning behind the exchange Zhao Jin and Wang Zhaojing had just had. He muttered under his breath, "You two really are full of tricks."

After Zhao Jin's second uncle Zhao Zhentang passed away, his old clothes had been washed clean by He Cuihua, tidied up, and placed back in the room exactly as they had been. Now was the perfect time to change into them.

During the fight, Zhao Jin had charged ahead bravely, and Chen Sheng had killed Cheng Tongtou. Both had blood spattered on them to varying degrees. Zhao Jin changed into Zhao Zhentang's old clothes, which fit reasonably well, but Chen Sheng was stout and large, so the clothes looked too small on him.

Once the two had straightened themselves out, they washed their faces with water from the bucket and left the three bloodstained garments to soak. Only then did they leave the house.

Zhao Jin did not linger in this courtyard any longer. He simply slammed the door shut with great force and made a great deal of noise while locking it.

Once they were out on the street, Chen Sheng said quietly, "Even if the neighbors around here heard anything, they'd only hear the sound of us leaving that courtyard. Doesn't that leave a gap, a suspicious point?"

"If they hear the sound of us leaving, they'll assume that when we arrived, they simply didn't hear us because they were deep asleep, and they won't be suspicious." Having done all this, Zhao Jin felt very relaxed and answered with a smile.

Chen Sheng paused, then nodded thoughtfully.

After they had walked a few more steps, Wang Zhaojing asked quietly, "Brother Zhao, why did you have Xiaoyong hack at the corpse with an axe?"

"The three of us all use distinctive weapons, and our techniques and martial skills are also different from the norm. Anyone with experience could easily tell. But tools like blades and axes are common in brawls among those in the jianghu — they won't be traced back to us," Zhao Jin explained in a low voice.

"Brother Zhao's thinking is truly meticulous," Wang Zhaojing said, nodding in contemplation.

Chen Sheng, walking off to the side, let out a laugh and said, "As if the constables in our Xuzhou would go to that much trouble. He was just some lowlife scum of the lowest order. Dead is dead — who's going to bother about him?"

By now, everyone was somewhat relaxed, chatting idly about this and that. Each of them couldn't help but yawn. As they walked along, their excitement gradually faded, and drowsiness crept in.

Just as they exited that street, it was already the fifth watch. The sky was beginning to lighten in the east. They hadn't walked much farther when Chen Sheng turned onto the road home. Before he left, Zhao Jin said, "Be sure to get to that courtyard early today. Don't delay. This matter isn't over yet."

Zhao Jin and Wang Zhaojing's homes were not far apart. They parted right at Zhao Jin's front door. Zhao Jin reminded him, "If your family asks, just say you went out to train and run with me. Push everything onto me — I'll explain."

Wang Zhaojing smiled and nodded, cupped his fists in farewell, and left. Zhao Jin stood at the gate, watching Wang Zhaojing until he walked out of the street. He thought to himself that if Wang Zhaojing's father, Wang Youshan, hadn't been so nostalgic and insisted on living in this area, he and Wang Zhaojing would have been people from entirely different worlds, with no chance of ever crossing paths.

After a moment of silent reflection, Zhao Jin turned to push the door open. But before his hand even touched the door panel, he paused. When he had left, the door had been left slightly ajar. Now it was half open. What was going on? Could the wind have blown it open? But there had been no wind all night.

Puzzled, Zhao Jin pushed the door and walked in. The moment he entered his family's courtyard, he heard sounds of activity within — a sound he knew very well: it was his father practicing with his blade.

He walked around the spirit screen to look, and sure enough, it was Zhao Zhentang practicing. The sky was now faintly white, and visibility was no longer so blurry. He could see Zhao Zhentang, fully dressed, swinging his blade stroke after stroke. The monkey sat listlessly on a wooden perch to the side, yawning.

Zhao Jin remembered clearly that his father only practiced with his blade like this on the day before he was to carry out an execution — that is, a beheading. But he didn't recall any mention of it the night before. Normally, his father Zhao Zhentang would definitely have said something.

"Dad, you're up so early practicing!" Zhao Jin greeted him with a smile.

Zhao Zhentang slashed the empty air once, then drew back into a stance and stood still. He said calmly, "If you can go out this early to run and train, why can't I get up early to practice my blade?"

Hearing this, Zhao Jin's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't sure what his father meant by those words, but they sounded off. Could his father know about what happened last night?

Before Zhao Jin could speak, Zhao Zhentang continued, "Training requires hard work. I see you've been slacking off quite a bit lately. Get into a horse stance and thrust at that wooden target on the east wall a thousand times. Make sure every thrust is accurate. Start now!"

Zhao Jin was about to speak, but Zhao Zhentang glared and scolded, "You want to haggle over training? Get to it!"

This morning, Zhao Zhentang seemed unfathomably profound. Zhao Jin felt something was wrong in his heart, but he didn't dare question or talk back. He could only obediently take his spear, walk over to the wooden target on the east wall, and begin thrusting, one strike after another.

After assigning him this task, Zhao Zhentang himself went inside the house. As Zhao Jin went through the motions, he replayed everything in his mind but couldn't find any flaw. Everything along the way had been carried out in great secrecy — it was unlikely anyone could have known.

Before long, Zhao Zhentang came back out of the house, holding a teapot and teacup. He called out to Zhao Jin, "Going out to train this early and you don't even know to drink water. Are you strengthening your body or harming it? Come drink some water, quickly."

Zhao Jin didn't dare argue, and he was also somewhat baffled. He obediently went over to drink. The water was still warm. As soon as he drank, he realized he really was thirsty and downed several cups in a row. While he was drinking, Zhao Zhentang, who was pouring water, sniffed the air a few times, and then his movements stopped.

This action made Zhao Jin even more confused. Zhao Zhentang was silent for a moment, then sighed. He rubbed Zhao Jin's forehead and said, "Training is training, but don't hurt yourself. Train well now."

After saying this, Zhao Zhentang picked up his blade again. Father and son continued their practice in silence. Since his father hadn't said anything outright, Zhao Jin naturally wasn't going to bring it up himself to ask or explain.

Amid the monotonous, repetitive motions, drowsiness gradually washed over Zhao Jin, but he could only force himself to endure it. After a while longer, the sleepiness finally passed.

By the time they would normally go running, He Cuihua and Zhao San and his wife had also gotten up. Seeing father and son already training, He Cuihua didn't think anything was amiss. She merely muttered, "Why are you up so early today?" and went off to prepare breakfast.

After training, they ate. Zhao Zhentang went off to the yamen for his shift. From start to finish, he said nothing more. Zhao Jin finally relaxed.

Mu Shulan's eyes were still red. It was unclear whether she had been crying the night before or simply hadn't rested well. After helping clear the dishes, she wanted to follow Zhao Jin to the courtyard to train as usual. She hadn't expected Zhao Jin to tell her to stay home. The clever, perceptive girl quickly caught on and asked in a hushed voice, "Those matters from yesterday?"

The day before, when Zhao Jin had been discussing things in the courtyard with Chen Ergou and Liu Yong, Mu Shulan had been inside the house listening and could more or less guess what was going to happen.

Zhao Jin nodded. Mu Shulan grabbed his hand and said quietly, "Brother Xiaojin, you have to be careful."

He Cuihua had just come in carrying something at that moment. Seeing the two of them like that, she couldn't help but smile and teased, "It's just a few streets away. You two lovebirds are acting like you'll be parted for ages."