Family

The weather had been growing colder, though midday was still pleasantly warm.

Yang Jing sat on an old square stool by the main hall doorway, basking in the sun as he considered his plans.

"Feng Lei, there's no need to say any more. Our family isn't selling the land."

Suddenly, an argument broke out beyond the courtyard gate. Some of the voices were familiar-they belonged to his grandfather and grandmother.

"Hm?" Yang Jing frowned and rose to take a look.

Just as he stood, he saw his mother, Liu Cuiling, hurry outside with a kitchen knife in her hand and a gray cloth apron around her waist. She still remembered to warn him, "Jing'er, don't come out. Wait inside."

Yang Jing didn't actually hide inside. He followed her to the courtyard gate. Liu Cuiling glanced at him but said nothing, merely shifting to stand in front of him.

Five men stood outside the gate, all dressed in coarse-cloth tunics and trousers. The burly man at their head had his shirt open, exposing a tuft of black chest hair, and a vicious face.

Having inherited the original owner's memories, Yang Jing knew who they were: thugs who ran roughshod over the countryside. The burly, hairy man leading them was Feng Lei, and the other four were his lackeys.

"Yang Shouzhuo, don't refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a penalty cup.

"All the fields surrounding your two mu in the Northern Fields belong to Master Ning now. I advise you to wise up and open those eyes of yours.

"There are people you can afford to offend, and people you can't.

"Master Ning is kind enough to pay for your land. If some other wealthy, powerful master took a fancy to it, a few little tricks would be all it took. You wouldn't just lose those two mu of grade-A farmland-you wouldn't get a single copper for them."

Feng Lei folded his arms across his chest, showing off his thick muscles, and delivered his threat with a smile that never reached his eyes.

The Yang family members paled slightly at his threat.

They knew perfectly well that Feng Lei wasn't exaggerating. In times like these, some Landlord Gentry would stop at nothing to swallow up more land.

"My patience has limits." Feng Lei snorted. "Master Ning said he'd give you another month to think it over. After that, he won't want those two mu anymore. And then, heh heh-"

His vicious gaze swept across their faces, the threat plain without another word.

Standing at the courtyard gate, Yang Jing had heard every word. So this is courtesy before force? If the Yang family refuses to sell those two mu of grade-A farmland to Master Ning in a month, these men will probably start using harsher methods.

Feng Lei turned, his gaze finally settling on Yang Jing, who stood slightly behind Liu Cuiling. As Yang Jing watched, he parted his lips in a cruel sneer.

He knew the Yang family's boy had joined a martial arts hall in town, which had initially given him some pause.

But half a month ago, the boy had actually fainted from fright in an old mansion. Feng Lei knew the place too. It merely looked gloomy; there couldn't possibly be any ghosts there. Back when he was down on his luck, he had even spent a few nights in that abandoned mansion.

With such a weak spirit, the Yang boy would never amount to anything even if he did practice martial arts. Sooner or later, he would be thrown out of the martial arts hall.

Much of Feng Lei's apprehension vanished, emboldening him to put further pressure on the Yang family.

The brat's so spineless that one glare might be enough to scare him stiff. With that thought, Feng Lei withdrew his gaze and raised his left arm in a casual wave. "Let's go!"

At his command, the four lackeys followed him away, leaving only the Yang family outside the gate.

Only then did the neighbors dare approach to offer comfort, while cursing Feng Lei and his fellow villains for serving as claws to the tiger.

After exchanging a few words, Old Master Yang Shouzhuo called everyone back into the courtyard.

Once home, they all looked weighed down by worry.

Feng Lei's threat had cast a shadow over their hearts.

Old Master Yang Shouzhuo took out a smoking pipe and sat on the main hall steps, puffing away with a furrowed brow.

His mother, Liu Cuiling, went into the kitchen with her head lowered to prepare lunch.

"If there's no other way, we'll sell those two mu of grade-A farmland. Jing'er needs money for his martial arts training anyway," the old master said, tapping his pipe.

"Circumstances are stronger than we are. Master Ning wants to join all the fields north of the village into one stretch, so he must have his sights firmly set on ours. Ah." His grandmother, Madam Qin, sighed.

"Let's wait a little longer. Didn't Feng Lei say we had another month? We'll ask around and see if we can get Master Ning to raise his offer," the old master said, his brow tightly knitted. "Yan'er's in-laws seem to have some connection with the Ning household's steward. Have Yan'er make some inquiries."

"All right, I'll ask Yan'er." Madam Qin nodded. Her gaze fell on her grandson standing nearby, and she felt a little more reassured. "Once Jing'er succeeds in martial arts, what will a few mu of land matter? Our family might even enjoy the same prosperity as the Ning Family."

Listening to his grandparents' conversation, Yang Jing's heart sank slightly.

Over several generations, the Yang family had accumulated twenty-two mu of farmland: five mu of grade-A farmland and seventeen mu of poor farmland. Their holdings ranked among the largest in the village.

But to support Yang Jing's martial arts training, they had sold so much that only two mu of grade-A farmland and ten mu of poor farmland remained.

Only the family's substantial foundation had allowed them to sell so much land and still support the household.

Now, however, a powerful local landlord had set his sights on their last two mu of grade-A farmland.

"Father, Mother, Jing'er, come eat."

Liu Cuiling poked her head out of the kitchen and called to the three people in the courtyard.

The food was then brought out to the stone table, and the family gathered around it to eat.

Yang Jing sat beside his grandfather and looked at the meal on the table.

His bowl held gleaming white rice.

Everyone else's contained coarse rice mixed with wild greens.

There were also two dishes on the table: seven or eight pieces of pork ribs on one small plate, steamed wild greens of some unknown kind on another, and a little bowl of pickled vegetables.

"Jing'er, have some meat."

Old Master Yang picked up the plate of ribs and set it directly beside Yang Jing. Then he took a blackish-green cornbread bun that looked rock-hard, bit into it, and put a strip of pickled vegetable into his mouth.

Watching his grandfather, grandmother, and mother eat only those obviously unpalatable wild greens and pickles, Yang Jing felt a pang in his heart. But his time with them had taught him that he couldn't win this argument. He could only accept it.

Knock, knock, knock.

As the four of them ate, someone knocked on the courtyard gate.

Their expressions changed, all fearing that the thug Feng Lei had returned.

"I'll take a look." Liu Cuiling put down her chopsticks and started to rise.

"Not you. Old woman, you go." Old Master Yang looked at his wife.

Madam Qin wasn't plump, but she was fairly tall. Her back had begun to stoop, making her seem shorter. She wore a coarse blue shirt washed almost white, and her graying hair was loosely pinned with an old wooden hairpin.

His grandmother nodded, rose briskly, and padded quietly to the gate. Peering through a crack, she immediately relaxed and turned toward Old Master Yang. "It's our eldest's family."

With that, she opened the gate.

Two figures entered the courtyard.

One was a middle-aged woman with a sallow face and hair tied haphazardly behind her head with hemp cord. Her brown robe was covered in patches, and cotton stuffing showed through the worn cuffs.

Beside her stood an equally frail boy. He was so thin that his cheekbones protruded slightly, and his lips had little color. Yet his back was straight, and his gaze rested on the food atop the stone table-more precisely, on the little plate of ribs.

"Father, Mother."

"Grandpa, Grandma."

The middle-aged woman and the thin boy bowed to Old Master Yang.

As they entered, Yang Jing and his mother, Liu Cuiling, also stood.

Liu Cuiling watched the ragged mother and son warily. When she noticed the boy staring at the ribs, her expression darkened slightly.

"You're here, Sister-in-law," Liu Cuiling said coolly.

Yang Jing's gaze also settled on the two newcomers.

Having inherited the original owner's memories, he naturally knew who they were.

Old Master Yang and Madam Qin had raised two sons and a daughter: his Elder Uncle, Yang Guang; his father, Yang Gang; and his youngest aunt, Yang Yan.

Of their three children, Old Master Yang favored his younger son, Yang Jing's father, Yang Gang, the most. When the household was divided, most of the land and possessions had gone to this second son.

Afterward, he and Madam Qin had also stayed with their second son.

Recently, the authorities had recruited local militia to help escort grain and fodder east to the Caozhou Frontline. The pay was quite high.

With Yang Jing's money-devouring training in mind, his father had discussed it with the family. They hadn't reached an agreement, but he had ignored their objections and signed up for the convoy anyway.

Only several days after the convoy departed did Old Master Yang learn that his eldest son, Yang Guang, had also joined it.

The mother and son before them were Yang Guang's wife, Madam Xue, and his son, Yang An.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you?" Old Master Yang asked. "Sit down and join us. Old woman, move over and let our eldest's wife and Little An sit there."

Old Master Yang knew the state of his eldest son's household. They weren't quite unable to put food in the pot, but they were close. Otherwise, his honest, dutiful eldest son would never have signed up to escort supplies to the Caozhou Frontline.

Madam Xue and Yang An sat where Old Master Yang directed. Coincidence or not, their seats were directly opposite Yang Jing, as far from the plate of ribs as possible.

"An, have some meat."

Yang Jing pushed the plate of ribs forward, a natural smile appearing on his face as he looked at his older cousin, Yang An.

From the original owner's memories, Yang Jing knew that his Elder Uncle's family's misery was partly connected to his own household. When the family split, Old Master Yang had given most of the Grade-A Farmland and ordinary farmland to his second son, Yang Gang, leaving his eldest son very little land or property.

If Yang Jing's martial arts training hadn't cost so much, his own household would have been far better off than it was now.

Yang Jing's unexpected gesture stunned everyone.

His mother, Liu Cuiling, frowned, a flicker of anxiety crossing her eyes.

Old Master Yang also paused.

Meat was precious in these times. Old Master Yang had only intended to let Yang An and his mother share a meal, not eat meat. In this household, only Yang Jing was entitled to meat, because he was training in martial arts. Once he succeeded, the entire lineage could ascend with him, chickens and dogs alike, transforming the family's future.

Madam Xue and Yang An were both astonished.

Neither had expected Yang Jing to offer them meat.

Previously, whenever Yang Jing happened to see them, he had carried an unspoken air of arrogance, even if he never openly showed it. He certainly never spoke to them first.

"I-I won't," Yang An said, shaking his head and biting into the dry, hard cornbread bun in his hand. "You eat it. You need meat for your training."

Yang An had longed for the meat, but Yang Jing's sudden generosity made him self-conscious instead. The moment he refused, he wanted to punch himself.

Then he saw a pair of chopsticks bring a piece of pork rib toward him and set it on the bun in his hand.

Gulp.

Yang An swallowed, then raised his head to look at Yang Jing across the table, astonishment flashing in his eyes.

"Little An, go on and eat." Old Master Yang waved his hand. Though he felt it was a pity to let Yang An eat that rib, seeing the cousins apparently growing closer also filled him with satisfaction.

"Madam Xue, did you come here for something?" Old Master Yang turned to her and asked.

Madam Xue raised her head. "Father, I wanted to borrow some money from you. Little An... he wants to practice martial arts too. But what his father and I saved for his apprenticeship fee is still six taels of silver short. I hoped to borrow six taels from you."

Everyone froze at her words.

Pfft.

Liu Cuiling couldn't help laughing. Looking at Madam Xue, she shook her head. "Sister-in-law, do you think just anyone can practice martial arts? It's not that simple. You need the right Root Bone. Without one, you could train for a hundred years and get nowhere. When Jing'er sought a master, they specifically examined his Root Bone. He was only accepted because he qualified."

Madam Qin nodded as well. "Our second son's wife is right. If martial arts were that easy, Wazi would have more than just a handful of people practicing it. And... and it costs far too much. With Little Jing alone training, we've already sold our ox and our land. We can't afford to have Little An train too..."

Old Master Yang remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

He said nothing, but his stance was clear.

He plainly didn't support Yang An's training, nor did he have money to lend Madam Xue.

"Father-" Madam Xue grew anxious.

When the household had split, the old master had given his eldest son's family only six mu of land. Hardships over the years had forced them to sell four. With poor harvests these past two years, their grain stores were nearly empty, and life was painfully tight. As Yang An grew older, those two mu couldn't possibly support the entire family. But whether she sent him into town as an apprentice or had him study martial arts, both required money.

Her husband had gone to the Caozhou Frontline, and she had no idea when he would return.

Her father-in-law was now Madam Xue's only hope.

"Aunt, why not let An train with me for now? I can't pass on my school's martial arts, but I can teach him some methods to temper his blood and qi. That would give him a foundation. Once you've saved enough money, he can formally seek a master. With that foundation already in place, he'll progress faster," Yang Jing said, looking at Madam Xue.

Silence fell over the courtyard.

Yang An, who had remained quiet, suddenly lifted his head. His eyes brimmed with delighted surprise as he stared at Yang Jing. He had never imagined that Yang Jing would be willing to teach him martial arts. It was as though he were seeing his younger cousin for the first time.

Madam Xue froze, then grew excited as well.

Liu Cuiling turned to Yang Jing with a deep frown and a stern expression. "Jing'er, don't be foolish. You're at a crucial stage in your training. How can you divide your attention? Your most urgent task is to master your martial arts. Only once you have real ability can you look after the family. That's how you live up to the hopes of your grandfather, grandmother, uncle, aunt, your father, and me!"

"Mother, I know what I'm doing."

Yang Jing shook his head and explained, "I'll only teach An some simple methods for strengthening the body and tempering blood and qi. It will mostly depend on his own effort, and won't interfere with my training. Besides, the hall master said that teaching others is also a way to review what you've learned and deepen your mastery. It can only help me, not hurt me."

Liu Cuiling looked at him dubiously. "Really?"

"Really!" Yang Jing smiled and nodded.

Liu Cuiling said no more and looked toward Old Master Yang.

Although the old master was advanced in years, he still held the highest standing in the household. Many major decisions rested with him, including the division of the household, Yang Jing's martial arts training, and the subsequent sales of land.

"Hmm..." Old Master Yang pondered for a moment before finally nodding. "All right. For now, Jing'er, you'll teach An'er martial arts. But remember, it mustn't interfere with your own training. Only if you master martial arts will our family have a future."

"Yes, Grandpa." Yang Jing nodded solemnly.

"You come home on the first and fifteenth of every month to collect money, Jing'er. Use that time to teach your cousin," Old Master Yang said.