Xikou County Town, Zhao Estate, home of the servants.
The back courtyard.
Dusk was falling. Old Fang had just finished a day's shift and returned to the back courtyard.
Old Fang was in his fifties. He wore ragged clothes patched over and over, and his thin frame and half-lidded eyes gave him a vacant look.
He walked mechanically toward his room, guided by memory.
"Old Fang, isn't school starting again in a few days? I heard they're holding a test before classes begin this time. Anyone who doesn't pass will be expelled."
"My Cuicui's been heading out early and coming home late every day lately. She's been working so hard. She's sure to make the Elite Class this time. Maybe someday she'll even find herself a rich young master and become a wealthy wife."
"Your Little Fang can do it too, can't he?"
Mother Wang's voice carried to Old Fang through the covered walkway.
There was a teasing lilt to it, but Old Fang clearly didn't catch on. All he heard was Mother Wang asking about his son, Little Fang.
His normally cloudy eyes suddenly lit up, and the numb, sorrowful creases on his face eased a little.
"My Little Fang's been working hard lately. He told me he's sure to pass the test."
"Once he graduates, he'll tuck a fountain pen in his pocket and become an official."
At that, Mother Wang couldn't help sneering to herself. The corner of her mouth curled up.
Become an official? With Little Fang's track record? He'd failed six of his seven subjects, and only scraped through PE.
He was bound to get weeded out this time.
Graduate? Not a chance.
Of course, she couldn't say that to Old Fang's face. Everyone knew he doted on his son more than anything.
"Of course he'll pass. When has Little Fang ever lied to you? If he says he can do it, then he can!"
"Mm, I know. My son's definitely going to pass this time!"
Old Fang straightened his back, trying to ease the bend that life had forced into it.
His son, Little Fang, was going to make something of himself one day. He had to hold his head high for him.
"All right, enough talk. My son will be back soon. I need to find Hu Da and have him make a bowl of noodles."
"You know, my son loves Hu Da's chicken noodles best."
Old Fang estimated the time. Fang Shuwen should be home soon.
He quickly brought the conversation to an end. He had to find the cook, Hu Da.
Otherwise, the kitchen might close for the night and he'd miss his chance.
"That Old Fang spoils Little Fang too much. Who does he think he is, asking Hu Da to cook him a special meal? A whole month's wages won't even cover the food."
"My Cuicui's much more sensible. She studies hard, and when she tutors people, they even feed her."
Mother Wang kept muttering to herself.
But she was thinking that spending money to send Little Fang to school was like tossing silver dollars into a river.
The Public Middle School was holding its big entrance exam this time.
Once Little Fang dropped out, Old Fang could finally have an easier time of it.
At least the school had done one good deed for once.
Once Old Fang came to his senses, maybe he could even save up enough to find himself another wife.
Meanwhile,
As soon as Fang Shuwen stepped into the Zhao Family's back courtyard, he caught the rich aroma of chicken soup.
The scent drifted over from the kitchen, curling straight into his nose and making his stomach rumble.
"Master Hu's cooking really is second to none."
He praised him inwardly and quickened his pace without meaning to.
When he rounded the covered walkway, he saw firelight spilling from the kitchen doorway.
A thin figure stood bent over, waiting outside. It was his father, Old Fang.
"Dad."
Fang Shuwen called out.
Old Fang turned around, his eyes lighting up.
"You're back? Come over. Hu Da saved you a bowl of chicken noodles. They're still hot."
"Thanks, Master Hu."
Fang Shuwen cupped his hands toward the broad, burly cook inside the kitchen.
"Little Fang, you don't have to be so formal with your uncle."
Hu Da answered in a deep, rumbling voice. He stirred the pot with his iron ladle, then added, "Your dad's been going on about you for ages, saying studying takes a lot out of you and you need to build up your strength."
Fang Shuwen glanced at Old Fang.
From the memories he'd inherited, Old Fang really had been very good to the original Fang Shuwen. Otherwise, he wouldn't have kept sending the unmotivated Little Fang to school.
Surely Old Fang knew that sending Little Fang to school was like throwing money into a river.
So why had he kept supporting him?
It was nothing but a parent's love for their child.
Old Fang rubbed his hands awkwardly and muttered, "Hu Da just can't keep his mouth shut."
Fang Shuwen didn't say anything. In the days since he'd transmigrated here,
he'd gotten a good sense of Old Fang's temperament.
If he was too polite, Old Fang actually felt uncomfortable.
He was always saying that Fang Shuwen was going to become an official someday and had to mind his image.
Carrying the noodles, Fang Shuwen went to the stone table in the courtyard and sat down.
The noodles were hand-pulled, springy and smooth. The chicken had been stewed until tender, and the broth was rich, white, and fragrant.
The ingredients were simple, but it was clear Hu Da had put his heart into the meal.
Fang Shuwen had a healthy appetite and polished off the generous bowl of noodles in no time.
He set down the bowl and was about to head back to his room.
Then, as though remembering something, he pulled two silver dollars from his shirt and held them out to Old Fang.
"Dad, you keep this money."
Old Fang stared at him in surprise. He picked up the silver dollars, looked them over, then raised his eyes to Fang Shuwen.
"Where'd you get this money? Why are you giving it to me? You need money for school, and you'll have to pay tuition when term starts. There'll be plenty of expenses."
"The money's clean. I'm good at chess, and an old gentleman insisted on taking me as his student. This is the fee he gave me."
When Fang Shuwen finished speaking, he saw Old Fang open his mouth, ready to say more.
So he quickly spoke again, his voice turning stern. "Take it. It's yours."
Sure enough, Old Fang couldn't resist that tone.
In the end, he didn't say what he'd been about to.
He clutched the two silver dollars, his heart bursting with joy.
This was the first time Fang Shuwen had ever given him money.
His Little Fang really was going to make something of himself.
He'd surely carry a fountain pen and become an official one day.
After a long pause, Old Fang finally managed, "Y-you should play less chess and study more. Studying's the proper path."
"Got it, Old Fang."
Fang Shuwen replied and headed straight toward the house across from them.
Though night had fallen, he couldn't stop thinking about his martial arts breakthrough that day.
Instead of returning to his room to study as he had over the past few days, he passed through the Moon Gate and entered the courtyard next door.
Square flagstones paved the center of the courtyard. Stone Locks for strength training and Wooden Dummies for sparring stood scattered around.
This had once been where the Zhao Family's eldest young lady, Zhao Xinlan, practiced martial arts.
But ever since she'd gone to Shenghai for university, the place had been left unused.
Fang Shuwen had come here to test his strength.
According to the original owner's experience from half a month of training at a martial arts school, one bone crack meant you'd entered the martial path, and your strength would at least double.
"Whew. The place has been abandoned, and they moved all the weapons, but the heavy stones and Wooden Dummies were left behind."
"Perfect. I can put them to use today."
Fang Shuwen walked over to a row of Stone Locks.
The smallest one had thirty pounds carved into it.
The others were, in order, fifty pounds, eighty pounds, one hundred pounds, and one hundred and fifty pounds.
The largest weighed a full two hundred pounds. Dust covered it, clear proof that no one had touched it in a long time.
He took a deep breath, walked to the fifty-pound Stone Lock, bent down, and gripped its handle with his right hand.
From the previous owner's memories, he knew that after martial arts practice at the school, Little Fang had sometimes trained here too.
He could lift the fifty-pound Stone Lock only by straining until his face turned red. The eighty-pound one wouldn't budge at all.
Fang Shuwen tightened his back and put all his strength into one arm.
"Up!"