Three Gates

Xu Qing did not head straight home after killing them.

He circled around to the river bend downstream from the docks, immersed the fish-killing knife in the water, swishing it back and forth until the blood was washed from the blade.

Then he plunged his hands into the river and scrubbed them, picking the blood and grime from beneath his nails bit by bit.

His outer garment had been splattered with blood, so he took it off as well, kneaded it clean in the river, wrung it dry, and wrapped it around his wrist.

Once he was done, he crouched by the riverbank and went over the entire matter in his mind. He had acted only after night had fully fallen. He had encountered no one on the road. The three people in that house had died cleanly and swiftly, without drawing outsiders.

The murder weapon was his family's fish-killing knife. Every household in Blackwater Bay had one; they were everywhere.

There were no markings on the blade. Once wiped clean, it was nothing more than an ordinary knife.

The blood on his clothes had been washed away too. His outer garment was wet, but it would more or less be dry by morning.

A motive for murder?

Which fishing family in Blackwater Bay had not suffered at the hands of Liu San and his gang?

There were no loose ends.

No one would suspect him.

He rose to his feet, tucked the knife back into his waistband, and turned to look toward Liu San's mud-brick house.

He recalled what Liu San had said before dying: "Your second uncle, your second aunt, that little sister of yours! Not one of them will get away."

That had not been a threat. It had been the truth.

As long as Liu San lived, his second uncle would never know another peaceful day. Today, they robbed him of silver; tomorrow, they kicked him. And the day after tomorrow? The day after that? With his second uncle's frail body, how many times could he endure it?

He did not regret it.

If he had to do it again, he would still do the same.

Xu Qing took a deep breath, tightened the wet garment around his wrist, and turned toward home.

Xu Qing put the fish-killing knife back where it belonged and slipped into the house through the darkness.

He took off his outer garment and lay down on the bed.

The quilt was a little damp and carried a moldy smell, but it made him feel at ease.

When he closed his eyes, Liu San's twisted face flashed through the darkness, then vanished.

He turned over and soon fell asleep.

He slept dreamlessly through the night.

"A-Qing, get up and eat." Before dawn had fully broken, Second Aunt's voice came from the kitchen, accompanied by the crisp clatter of a spatula striking an iron wok.

Xu Qing opened his eyes, sat up, and stretched. His whole body felt comfortable, as though a thousand-pound burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

When he walked outside, Second Uncle was sitting on a small stool by the kitchen door, holding a bowl and drinking porridge on his own. His complexion was much better than yesterday's. Though still sallow, there was some light in his eyes now. He was barely coughing, and his breathing had evened out.

"Second Uncle, feeling better?" Xu Qing smiled.

Xu Erniu looked up and smiled as well. His voice was still weak, but far stronger than yesterday. "I drank the medicine and slept through the night. My chest doesn't hurt as much now. I reckon I'll be fine after another couple of days of rest."

Second Aunt chimed in from beside him. "When he got up this morning, your second uncle said he wanted to see if he could walk, so I helped him out. He came out on his own without even using a cane!"

There was a rare lightness in her voice. The stone in her heart had finally fallen to the ground.

Breakfast was thick porridge, and Second Aunt had boiled an egg as well.

The egg rolled along the rim of the bowl. Second Aunt peeled it, revealing its tender white flesh, and placed it in Xu Qing's bowl.

Xu Qing stopped her and moved the egg into Xiuer's bowl.

The little girl was cradling her bowl and noisily slurping porridge. When she suddenly saw the egg drop into her bowl, she looked up, her eyes sparkling. "Big Brother, you're not eating it?"

"Your big brother eats meat every day at the martial arts school. I'm not fussed about this." Xu Qing scraped her little nose. "You eat it. Eat it and grow taller."

Xiuer gave an "okay," then held the egg and took small bites, her cheeks puffed out like a little hamster's.

After breakfast, Xu Qing helped Second Aunt clear away the bowls and chopsticks, then stood in the courtyard for a while.

Second Uncle leaned against a chair in the main room, squinting as he dozed.

Xu Qing walked over and crouched before him.

"Second Uncle," he called.

Xu Erniu opened his eyes and looked at him.

"The doctor said that even with the medicine, you need another seven or eight days of rest. Don't go fishing again until you're completely healed." Xu Qing's voice was quiet but earnest. "Otherwise, if it gets worse again, the money will have been spent for nothing."

Xu Erniu opened his mouth. He wanted to say the household could not go without income, that a family of three needed food and drink, that Xu Qing needed silver to practice martial arts, that money was needed everywhere. But looking into Xu Qing's eyes, those words lodged in his throat, and he could not say them.

Xu Qing took out three taels of silver from his chest and pressed them into Xu Erniu's hand.

Xu Erniu lowered his head to look, then froze.

The silver weighed heavily in his palm, its gleam dazzling.

He looked up, eyes wide. "A-Qing, this... where did this come from?"

"My master at the martial arts school gave it to me." Xu Qing smiled. "I've made rapid progress in my training. Master was pleased and rewarded me."

Xu Qing said it naturally, as though it were true.

"The martial arts school gives money too?" Second Aunt poked her head out from the kitchen, still holding a rag, her face full of disbelief.

"They do." Xu Qing nodded. "Master said the martial arts school will cover all my meat and medicinal supplements for training. The family won't need to spend a single coin. This silver is an extra reward, meant to help support the household."

"But Master told me to keep the matter of the silver secret. Otherwise, if the senior and junior brothers at the martial arts school find out, they'll say Master is playing favorites." Xu Qing looked at his second uncle and second aunt, speaking solemnly. "Uncle, Aunt, you mustn't tell anyone about this."

The two nodded heavily. Even without Xu Qing's warning, they would not have dared say a word.

In times like these, wealth must not be flaunted. Too many eyes were watching.

Xu Qing paused, looked into Xu Erniu's eyes, and said each word clearly, "Second Uncle, you don't have to work so hard anymore. From now on, you have me."

Xu Erniu's hand began to tremble.

He lowered his head and stared at the three taels of silver in his palm for a long time.

When he looked up again, his eyes were red.

His lips trembled. He wanted to say something, but it felt as though something were lodged in his throat, and he could not force out a single word.

Second Aunt turned away too, covering her face with her apron, her shoulders shaking.

"Good, good..." Xu Erniu wiped his eyes with his sleeve and finally squeezed out two words. His voice was hoarse as a broken bellows. "A-Qing has made something of himself... made something of himself..."

Xu Qing stood up, his heart aching yet warm.

He looked at the sky. Day had fully broken. It was time to return to the martial arts school.

"Uncle, Aunt, I'm leaving. I'll come back to see you next rest day."

"Alright, alright." Second Aunt hurriedly wiped her eyes and packed several multigrain flatbreads for him from the kitchen. "Eat them on the road. Don't go hungry."

Xiuer ran over, hugged his leg, and tipped up her little face. "Big Brother, when are you coming back?"

"Soon." Xu Qing patted her head. "Be good and listen at home."

Xiuer nodded hard.

Xu Qing walked out through the courtyard gate, then looked back once.

Second Uncle stood there waving at him. Second Aunt's eyes were red. Xiuer grinned at him.

The sun had risen, and its warm light fell across the little courtyard.

He turned around and strode toward the county town.

By the time he reached the martial arts school, the sun was already high.

In the training yard, the disciples of the outer court had gathered together.

Their master, Zhao Yan, was explaining stance training.

Xu Qing quietly approached and stood at the back of the crowd.

"...Practice martial arts without practicing skill, and you'll amount to nothing even when old. The 'skill' refers to stance training."

Zhao Yan stood with his hands behind his back, his voice steady and unhurried.

He walked to the center of the training yard and planted his feet in a neither-square-nor-figure-eight stance. He did not seem to exert any force, yet his entire body was like an old pine rooted in the earth, utterly immovable.

"Stance training tempers the sinews and bones, and refines the blood and qi. Without tempering the sinews and bones, you cannot support the frame. Without refining the blood and qi, you cannot unleash force."

"When you stand in stance and feel your legs ache, your waist hurt, your whole body tremble—that is not merely suffering. It is your sinews and bones bearing strain, your blood and qi moving. Endure it, and your skill grows. Fail to endure it, and you have stood for nothing."

He withdrew his stance and stood with his hands behind his back.

"Martial arts has three great gates: bright force, hidden force, and transformative force. These three gates correspond precisely to the minor mastery, major mastery, and consummate realms of stance training. If your stance training is lacking, your force cannot rise. Once your stance training reaches the mark, force will naturally flow into place like water reaching its channel."

"After entering the path, once your stance is steady, you must begin sensing blood and qi. While standing in stance, have you felt your lower abdomen grow warm, your fingers swell, or something crawling across your back?"

Several disciples nodded repeatedly.

"That is blood and qi." His voice sank. "Blood and qi are not some vague, intangible thing. They move through your sinews and channels, flow through your flesh and blood."

"When standing in stance, keep your mind on the dantian and breathe into your abdomen. Then blood and qi will slowly gather. At first, they are scattered—a patch of warmth here, a twitch there—impossible to grasp. Stand long enough, and you will sense them flowing through your body like a stream."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.

"Being able to sense blood and qi only means you have entered the gate of stance training. Only when you can control blood and qi—gathering it when you wish, moving it when you wish—can you be said to have achieved minor mastery. By then, your blood and qi will be abundant, your sinews and bones strong. When you throw a punch, it will no longer be brute force, but bright force."

Hearing this, Xu Qing's heart stirred slightly.

He recalled the heat that had surged from within his body while standing in stance. So that was blood and qi.