Learning Martial Arts

"Jing'er, how are you feeling now? Is it still bleeding?"

In the dim wooden shack, the wind whistled incessantly through the cracks in the broken window.

Chen Sanwu held a patch-covered rag in his hands, carefully approaching the edge of the kang.

"Father, I'm fine. It has stopped bleeding now."

Looking at Chen Sanwu's hands, calloused from years of pulling carts, Chen Jing reached up to touch his own forehead.

Although the wound still throbbed with a dull pain, no fresh blood was seeping out.

"That's good, that's good..."

Hearing that Chen Jing was alright, Chen Sanwu let out a long, ragged sigh. Then, as if half his life had been drained away, he slumped down beside Chen Jing, his spine hunched like a bent bamboo pole.

The room fell silent once more, save for the faint sounds of shouting and commotion drifting in from outside.

After a long while, Chen Sanwu spoke softly, his voice as raspy as sandpaper: "Jing'er, just stay home and recover these next few days... once you're fit to pull a cart again, don't take jobs for those martial artists anymore."

Because martial artists held high status and were generous with their coin, Chen Jing had often pulled carts for them to earn extra money.

He just hadn't expected to run into someone as unreasonable as Yan Peng this time...

"Don't look at the money they pay; it's a life-threatening trade."

Seeing that Chen Jing didn't respond immediately, Chen Sanwu's face, etched with deep wrinkles of exhaustion, continued: "It was pure luck you weren't hurt pulling for others before... but this time, you ran into a madman like Yan Peng who kills without blinking."

"If I hadn't arrived quickly... I might not have seen you again..."

As Chen Sanwu said this, his voice began to tremble.

"Your mother left us early. If something were to happen to you, how would an old man like me, or your older sisters, go on living? Your mother's spirit in heaven would never find peace!"

Chen Sanwu's eyes were rimmed with red, his tone growing increasingly agitated.

Chen Sanwu wasn't scolding him; he was afraid.

He was afraid that one day, Chen Jing would end up like those others—dying in a back alley like a bug.

Listening to Chen Sanwu's worried nagging, Chen Jing felt a sour ache in his chest, a heavy, stinging emotion born from the overlapping memories of two lifetimes.

Chen Jing took a deep breath, his voice tight: "Father..."

"I want to learn martial arts!"

The moment the words fell, the air in the dilapidated shack seemed to vanish, leaving a terrifying silence.

Chen Sanwu looked as if he had been struck by lightning; his eyes widened, his mouth agape, unable to utter a sound.

After a long time, he finally snapped out of it, lunging forward to grab Chen Jing by the shoulders, his voice cracking: "Jing'er, how could you have such a thought! Listen to your father—don't touch those martial arts or combat skills! That is not a path for people of our standing!"

"Don't look at how glorious martial artists appear; they all live with their heads on the chopping block. Who knows when an enemy might come knocking at their door!"

"Not to mention anywhere else, just look at our small county—aren't there enough people dying every year because of martial artists?"

"I don't ask for anything else, just for you to pull your cart honestly, save up for a dowry over a few years, and then I'll find a way... to get you a wife and start a family... isn't that good enough?"

Chen Sanwu's speech slowed, sounding like a plea, as if he were terrified of losing something.

Listening to him, Chen Jing felt the smoldering fire in his chest burn hotter. He looked up, his gaze firm: "Father, the world has changed! It's chaotic out there. Martial artists run rampant now, and the lives of ordinary people like us are worth nothing."

"Besides, with our status, if we don't practice martial arts... we are nothing but ants, crushed underfoot without anyone even glancing our way!"

"Just like that day pulling the cart—I had only brushed against a bit of dust, yet that Yan Peng didn't even look, he just smashed his fist down!"

At this, Chen Jing clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, the wound on his head beginning to throb again.

Hearing Chen Jing's retort, Chen Sanwu wanted to say more, but in the end, he swallowed his words.

After a long while, Chen Sanwu finally looked up at Chen Jing.

His gaze was now filled with both seriousness and helplessness: "Jing'er, you want to learn martial arts... but do you know how bitter that path is? Training through the coldest winter and the hottest summer; if you fail, you're ruined, and even if you succeed, you must walk the pugilistic world with your life in your hands. Can you... can you endure that?"

Chen Jing countered: "Father, you've seen me pull carts with you for so long. Aside from this accident, have I ever complained of fatigue? Have I ever slacked off?"

To this, Chen Sanwu had no reply.

As a father, he knew Chen Jing was not a fickle person.

Chen Sanwu took a deep breath, as if making a heavy, final decision. He slowly crouched down and began to rummage under the bed.

After a moment, he pulled out a worn, old wooden box.

Opening it, a heavy pouch of silver lay quietly inside.

Chen Sanwu slowly stroked the money bag, his voice as raspy as the wind: "The silver inside is not just the dowry your mother left behind... it is every bit of savings I have scraped together over these years."

"I had originally thought... to buy you your own cart one day, or save it for your wedding... to let you live a stable life..."

As he spoke, Chen Sanwu looked up, his old eyes filled with resolve: "Since you are set on learning martial arts..."

"Then take it!"

"Make something of yourself for your father to see!"

With that, he shoved the money bag into Chen Jing's hand without hesitation.

Feeling the heavy pouch in his hand, Chen Jing understood that this was not just silver, but the love and hope a father had carried on his back for over a decade.

"Dad, I will definitely make something of myself!"

Chen Jing took a deep breath and nodded solemnly.

If not for the Exemption Bead, Chen Jing might have only dared to engage in small business, hoping to change his fate through meager means.

But now, possessing the Exemption Bead, he would be truly unwilling if he didn't walk the path of martial arts!

"Then get some good rest, and spend these next few days thinking... about which martial hall you want to join."

"I'm off to pull the cart now."

Chen Sanwu took one last look at Chen Jing before pushing the door open and stepping out.

The dilapidated wooden door creaked shut. Watching his father's hunched yet still unyielding back, Chen Jing felt a slight tightness in his chest.

Once the sound of footsteps outside had completely faded, Chen Jing took a deep breath and began to consider the real question at hand: where should he go to learn martial arts?

There were over a dozen martial halls in Red Rock County, large and small, but only five had true fame and strength: the Black Crow Sect, the Mountain-Opening Hall, the Eight Desolations Academy, the River-Breaking Martial Hall, and the Broadsword Society.

The Black Crow Sect was out of the question; Yan Peng was a disciple there, and his own injuries were caused by people from that sect.

Joining the Black Crow Sect? That would be no different than putting a noose around his own neck.

As for the remaining four, he had heard plenty of rumors about them while pulling his cart.

The disciples of the Mountain-Opening Hall were boorish and often used their strength to bully others.

The Broadsword Society had a decent reputation, but they operated like a mix between a military unit and a security firm, making it difficult to apprentice there.

The only ones truly suitable for him were the Eight Desolations Academy and the River-Breaking Martial Hall.

He had driven disciples from the Eight Desolations Academy three or four times before; although they were martial artists, they never put on airs, were kind-hearted, and paid promptly. Because of this, Chen Jing had always held a good impression of them.

Thinking of this, Chen Jing stood up, straightened his clothes, and planned to head over to the Eight Desolations Academy to see the situation for himself.

However, just as his hand touched the door latch, the door was pushed open from the outside.

"Creak."

The moment the door gaped open, a teary-eyed figure rushed into his line of sight.

"Little brother!"

Chen Chunmiao's eyes were as red as a rabbit's. Just as she was about to enter, she saw Chen Jing standing at the doorway.

"Little brother, why are you up? Does your body hurt? Are you still dizzy? Is there anything uncomfortable? Go back to bed and lie down right now!"

Chen Chunmiao's barrage of questions fell like a sudden downpour, leaving Chen Jing with no chance to speak at all.