At noon three days later, outside the side gate of the Shen Mansion.
Chen Jianghe took off the coarse-cloth laborer's uniform he had worn for three years, still reeking of blood, and changed into the patched clothes he had brought with him.
Uncle Liu leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching him get dressed. For a long while, he said nothing.
At last, Uncle Liu spoke, his voice a little heavy. "You're really leaving?"
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Chen Jianghe held out the neatly folded uniform in both hands. "Uncle Liu, I'm grateful for all the care you've given me these past three years."
Uncle Liu didn't take it. He only stared at him. "Jianghe, tell me the truth. Is this because of that business with the Black Tiger Gang? Did that bastard Wang Biao go to your home to demand the debt again?"
Chen Jianghe shook his head. "No. I've made up my own mind."
"Made up your mind?" Uncle Liu's voice suddenly rose.
Then he lowered it again, glanced around, and pulled Chen Jianghe to the corner of the wall. "What have you made up your mind about? Martial arts? Is that something people like us can afford to get involved in? Yes, I heard you'd scraped together the apprenticeship fee. Ten taels of silver, right? But that's only the beginning! What about after that? Meat, tonics, medicinal baths... which of those doesn't cost money? How many copper coins can your mother earn weaving nets?"
He paused to catch his breath. Seeing Chen Jianghe listening quietly, he grew even more anxious. "Listen to your uncle. Stay at the Shen Mansion. I'll talk to the chief steward again and get you a long-term contract. You'll work exclusively at the butcher's block, with a steady monthly wage of one tael and two mace. In a couple of years, I'll help you find a sensible girl, then you can bring your mother here and get a little house. Isn't that a secure life?"
Chen Jianghe waited until he'd finished before replying. "Uncle Liu, you're right about all of that."
"Then why are you—"
Chen Jianghe raised his head and said solemnly, "But I want to give it a try. Back then, my father went to serve in the corvée in my uncle's place. When he left, he told me that in this world, a man without ability didn't even own his own life. I don't want to wait until someone asks me to die in another person's place and find I can only nod."
Uncle Liu opened his mouth to argue, but not a single word came out.
He remembered what Chen Jianghe had been like when he first arrived three years ago, as thin as a reed stalk and too afraid even to watch a chicken being slaughtered. Now the boy stood before him with broader shoulders and a steadier gaze, yet his words still made Uncle Liu's heart ache.
Uncle Liu let out a heavy sigh. "Forget it. Forget it!"
Then he took a small cloth bundle from his robes and pressed it into Chen Jianghe's hand. "Take it."
Chen Jianghe opened it. There were several dozen copper coins and a small piece of silver.
"Uncle Liu, I can't take this."
Uncle Liu put on a stern face. "Shut up. It's not a gift. Come meet me at the side gate tonight at a quarter past seven."
"Uncle Liu?"
"Just come when I tell you to!" Uncle Liu waved a hand and turned to go inside. Halfway there, he looked back and said quietly, "Be careful on the way."
Chen Jianghe clenched the bundle in his hand and bowed deeply toward Uncle Liu's retreating back.
At a quarter past seven, the side gate creaked open a crack.
Uncle Liu poked his head out. Seeing Chen Jianghe was there after all, he beckoned him inside.
They walked one after the other through the dark to a small storage room behind the slaughterhouse.
Uncle Liu lit an oil lamp. Its dim, yellow light revealed an old bamboo basket in the corner.
He lifted the cloth covering it. Inside were several pieces of meat wrapped in oiled paper: some pig liver, half a pig's trotter, and a few strips of dried salted fish.
"Just scraps. The mansion doesn't count them," Uncle Liu said, pushing the basket in front of Chen Jianghe.
"Since you're dead set on practicing martial arts, you can't let your qi and blood run low. I'll get you a little of this every few days. Take it home without anyone noticing."
Chen Jianghe looked at the basket, his throat tightening. "Uncle Liu, if the steward finds out, then..."
Uncle Liu waved a hand. "He won't. I've worked at the Shen Mansion for more than twenty years. Don't I know how to keep things in hand?"
He paused, then lowered his voice. "When I was young, I wanted to practice martial arts, too. But I didn't have the talent or the luck. Later, I married, hoping to save up some money, but my wife fell ill and passed away. We never had a child."
Uncle Liu looked up at Chen Jianghe. "You're a steady, hardworking boy, and good with your hands. I truly think of you as... as one of my own. If you want to make your way in the world, I won't stop you. But you have to promise me two things."
"Tell me."
"First, protect yourself. The martial arts hall isn't some safe haven. Don't act tough, and don't make trouble."
"I'll remember."
Uncle Liu took another small cloth bundle from his robes but didn't open it this time. "Second, there are five taels of silver in here. It's what I've saved up. Take it for emergencies. Don't refuse. When I die, give me a proper send-off."
This time, Chen Jianghe didn't refuse. He took the bundle, lifted the hem of his robe, knelt on the ground, and kowtowed to Uncle Liu.
"Uncle Liu, I'll never forget your kindness."
Uncle Liu hurried to help him up, his eyes a little red. "All right, all right... Go on now. It's dark on the road, so be careful."
Chen Jianghe picked up the bamboo basket and walked to the door, then looked back once more.
Uncle Liu stood beside the oil lamp and waved to him.
The boats moored together at Loach Bay rocked gently in the night.
Chen Jianghe hid the bamboo basket, then stepped into the cabin. Lin was still awake, mending a fishing net by the light of a tiny oil lamp. When she saw him return, she quickly set down her work.
"Jianghe, you're back? Uncle Liu, did he..."
Chen Jianghe sat down opposite her. "Mother, there's something I need to tell you."
Seeing his serious expression, Lin sat up straight.
Chen Jianghe took a money pouch from his robes and poured the silver onto the battered wooden table. "I'm going to the martial arts hall tomorrow to become an apprentice. I have enough money. Ten taels of silver will cover a year's tuition, and there'll still be some left over."
Lin stared at the bright silver fragments, her eyes wide. "So much? Where did you..."
"I saved nine taels and seven mace from my wages. Uncle Liu also lent me five taels. He said I could pay him back once I'd made something of myself."
"Wang Biao's dead. Must've been infighting in the gang. I heard he died pretty horribly," Chen Jianghe said without batting an eye.
At the words "Wang Biao's dead," Lin's hand trembled, and the needle pricked her fingertip. She paid no attention to the pain and grabbed Chen Jianghe's hand. "Jianghe, you... you didn't get mixed up in it, did you? Those gang members..."
Chen Jianghe clasped her hand in return. "No. Don't worry, Mother. I'm going to the martial arts hall for more than just training. Once I become a disciple, even if I only have my name on the roster, people like Wang Biao from the Black Tiger Gang won't dare lay a hand on us so easily."
Lin looked at him, her lips moving. In the end, she only asked, "Which martial arts hall?"
"The Xingyi Martial Arts Hall. I asked a broker. Of the seven or eight martial arts halls in Yilin County, Xingyi charges the least: ten taels in tuition for a year. The others charge at least twenty."
"The cheapest... does that mean..." Lin hesitated.
Chen Jianghe spoke firmly. "The hall may have fallen on hard times, but the master has real skill. Mother, people like us don't get to choose. Getting in is an opportunity."
Lin fell silent for a long while. Then she slowly let go of his hand, took a small cloth bundle from her robes, and unwrapped it layer by layer. Inside were a few polished fragments of silver and a pile of copper coins.
She pushed the bundle toward Chen Jianghe. "This is what I've saved over the years. Take it with you."
"Mother, you should keep this money."
Lin cut him off, her tone leaving no room for refusal. "Take it. You can't go out with no money on you. We still have the nets, and I can keep weaving. We won't go hungry."
Chen Jianghe looked at his mother's prematurely graying hair and her rough, cracked fingers. It felt as if something had lodged in his chest.
He put away the little bundle, then pushed his money pouch back to her. "Keep this. I'll carry five taels with me. That's enough."
Lin was about to say more, but Chen Jianghe had already stood up. "Mother, get some rest. I'll leave first thing tomorrow."
He blew out the oil lamp and lay down on his own bedding. In the darkness, he heard his mother sigh softly and toss and turn.
At dawn the next day, Chen Jianghe left Loach Bay with fifteen taels of silver tucked away on him.
The Xingyi Martial Arts Hall stood at the western end of Yilin County's Outer City, near the foot of the city wall.
It was in a remote spot, and the frontage was shabby. Two peeling wooden doors stood ajar, and most of the gold paint had flaked off the four characters on the signboard: "Xingyi Martial Arts Hall."
Chen Jianghe stood at the entrance for a moment, then raised his hand and knocked.
A lazy voice came from inside. "The door's unlocked. Come in."