Learning Martial Arts

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

In the dim wooden hut, the wind kept pouring through the cracks in the broken window.

Chen Sanwu held a ragged, heavily patched cloth in his hands and carefully walked over to the kang.

"Dad, I'm fine. It's stopped bleeding."

Looking at Chen Sanwu's hands, rough with calluses from years of pulling rickshaws, Chen Jing reached up and touched his forehead.

The wound still throbbed faintly, but no blood was seeping from it anymore.

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

When he heard Chen Jing was all right, Chen Sanwu let out a long breath. Then, as if half the life had been drained from him, he slumped down beside Chen Jing, his back bent like an old bamboo stalk crushed beneath a heavy load.

The room fell quiet again. Only the distant curses and clamor from outside continued to drift in.

After a long while, Chen Sanwu finally spoke softly, his voice hoarse as sandpaper. "Jing'er, stay home and recover for now... Once you're well enough to pull a rickshaw again, don't pull them for those martial artists anymore."

Martial artists held high status and paid generously. Before this, Chen Jing had pulled rickshaws for them often, hoping to earn more money.

He just hadn't expected to run into an unreasonable bastard like Yan Peng this time...

"Don't be fooled by how much martial artists pay. Those jobs can cost you your life."

When Chen Jing didn't respond right away, Chen Sanwu's face creased with weariness. "You were lucky you never got hurt pulling rickshaws for the others... But this time, you ran into a madman like Yan Peng, someone who kills without batting an eye."

"If I hadn't gotten there in time... I might never have seen you again..."

By the time Chen Sanwu finished, his voice was trembling.

"Your mother died young. If anything happened to you too, how would an old man like me and your elder and second elder sisters go on? Even your mother's spirit in heaven wouldn't be at peace!"

Chen Sanwu's eyes were red now, and his voice grew more and more agitated.

He wasn't scolding Chen Jing. He was afraid.

Afraid that one day Chen Jing would end up like before, dead in an alley like a bug.

Listening to Chen Sanwu's worried rambling, Chen Jing felt a painful ache in his chest, as though the weight of two lifetimes' worth of emotion had come together and pierced him.

Chen Jing drew a deep breath. His voice tightened as he said, "Dad..."

"I want to learn martial arts!"

The instant the words left his mouth, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the dilapidated hut. An awful silence settled over it.

Chen Sanwu looked as though he'd been struck by lightning. His eyes were wide, his mouth open, but no sound came out.

It took him a long moment to come to his senses. Then he grabbed Chen Jing by the shoulders, his voice rising to a pitch he'd never used before. "Jing'er, what put that idea in your head? Listen to your father. Don't go getting involved in martial arts or fighting! That's not a path for people from a background like ours!"

"Martial artists may look glorious on the surface, but they all live with their heads on the line. Who knows when an enemy might come knocking?"

"And we don't even need to look elsewhere. Aren't enough people dying at the hands of martial artists right here in our little county every year?"

"I'm not asking for much. Just pull rickshaws steadily and save up for a few years' worth of bride money. Then your father will find a way... get you a wife and start you a family. Wouldn't that be good?"

Chen Sanwu spoke more and more slowly, as if begging, as if afraid of losing something.

Listening to him, Chen Jing felt only the smoldering fire in his chest grow fiercer. He raised his head abruptly, his gaze resolute. "Dad, the world's changed! It's a mess out there, and martial artists run rampant. Ordinary people like us are worth less than nothing."

"Besides, people of our station who don't practice martial arts are just ants. Anyone can crush us underfoot, and no one will even notice!"

"Just look at what happened when I was pulling that rickshaw. I only brushed against a little dust, but Yan Peng didn't even look at me before slamming down with a punch!"

As he spoke, Chen Jing clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white. Even the wound on his head began to throb faintly.

Hearing Chen Jing's reply, Chen Sanwu had more to say, but in the end he swallowed it all back down.

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

His gaze held both earnestness and helplessness. "Jing'er, you want to learn martial arts... but do you know how hard it is? You train through the coldest days of winter and the hottest days of summer. If you can't make it, you're ruined. And even if you do make it, you'll still have to risk your life out in the world. You... can you bear it?"

Chen Jing countered, "Dad, I've been pulling rickshaws with you for so long. Aside from this accident, have I ever complained I was tired? Have I ever taken a break?"

Chen Sanwu had no answer.

As Chen Jing's father, he knew perfectly well that his son wasn't one to keep changing his mind.

Chen Sanwu drew a deep breath, as if making an unbearably heavy decision. He slowly crouched down and felt around beneath the bed.

After fumbling for a while, he finally pulled out a small wooden box, worn with age.

When he opened it, a heavy pouch of silver lay quietly inside.

Chen Sanwu slowly stroked the money pouch, his voice low as the rasp of the wind. "This money isn't just the dowry your mother left behind... It's also everything I've managed to save over the years."

"I thought... I'd buy you a rickshaw of your own one day, or save it up to get you a wife... so you could live a peaceful life..."

At this, Chen Sanwu raised his head. His old eyes were full of resolve. "Since you're set on learning martial arts..."

"Then take it!"

"Make something of yourself for your father!"

With that, he stuffed the pouch into Chen Jing's hands without hesitation.

Feeling the pouch's weight in his hands, Chen Jing understood that it wasn't just silver. It was a father's love and hopes, carried on his back for more than a decade.

"Dad, I'll make something of myself!"

Chen Jing drew a deep breath and nodded solemnly.

Without the Exemption Bead, Chen Jing might have only dared to start a small business and try to change his fate by scraping by.

But now that he had the Exemption Bead, he couldn't bear to let the chance pass without trying his hand at the martial path!

"Get some rest. Over the next few days, think about it... and decide which martial arts school you want to join."

"I'll go pull rickshaws for now."

Chen Sanwu looked at Chen Jing once more, then pushed the door open and left.

The shabby wooden door creaked shut. Chen Jing watched his father's stooped yet still-straight back, his heart tightening.

Only after the footsteps outside had faded completely did Chen Jing draw a deep breath and start thinking about the real question before him: where should he go to learn martial arts?

There were more than a dozen martial arts schools of various sizes in Red Rock County, but only five were truly renowned and powerful: the Black Crow Sect, Mountain-Opening Hall, Eight Desolations Academy, River-Breaking Martial Hall, and Broadsword Society.

There was no need to consider the Black Crow Sect. Yan Peng was one of its disciples, and it was someone from the Black Crow Sect who had caused his injury.

Learning martial arts at the Black Crow Sect? That would be like putting a noose around his own neck.

As for the other four, he'd heard plenty of rumors about them while pulling rickshaws.

The Mountain-Opening Hall's disciples were rough and violent, and often used their strength to bully others.

The Broadsword Society had a decent reputation, but it followed a mix of military and escort-service traditions, making it difficult to become a disciple.

That left only the Eight Desolations Academy and the River-Breaking Martial Hall as suitable choices for him.

He'd pulled rickshaws for the Eight Desolations Academy's disciples three or four times before. Although they were martial artists, they'd never acted high and mighty. They were kind and paid generously, so Chen Jing had always had a good impression of them.

With that in mind, Chen Jing got up, straightened his clothes, and decided to visit the Eight Desolations Academy to see how things stood.

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

"Creak."

The moment the door cracked open, a tearful figure rushed into view.

"Little brother!"

Chen Chunmiao's eyes were as red as a rabbit's. She'd just been about to come in when she spotted Chen Jing standing at the doorway.

"Little brother, why are you up? Does it hurt? Are you still dizzy? Is anything else bothering you? Hurry, go lie down and rest!"

Chen Chunmiao fired off questions like a sudden downpour, leaving Chen Jing no chance to get a word in.