Traveling Together

When Zhao Yan instructed Chen Wang to gather the outer courtyard disciples at the training ground, the sun had just risen.

Before everyone had even lined up, Zhao Yan emerged from the inner courtyard, followed by Ning Yun and Xu Qing.

Xu Qing had not even had time to change clothes. He wore an indigo constable's uniform, a leather belt cinched around his waist, his back straight as a blade's spine.

Morning light fell upon him, making his dark uniform gleam. He looked crisp and upright, still as a mountain, with an awe-inspiring authority between his brows. He was utterly unlike the youth from over twenty days ago, who had stood at the martial hall's entrance in a set of old clothes washed pale and said, "I want to take a master."

The outer courtyard disciples exchanged looks, their gazes sweeping back and forth over Xu Qing, unable to guess what was about to happen.

"I called you here to announce something." Zhao Yan's voice was not loud, yet every person present heard it clearly.

His gaze settled on Xu Qing. Unhurried, yet carrying an unquestionable weight, he said, "From today onward, Xu Qing is my personal disciple. He will move into the inner courtyard and train under me."

The training ground exploded into an uproar.

"What?! A personal disciple?!" Someone even dropped the sweat cloth in his hand without bothering to pick it up.

"Moving into the inner courtyard? The inner courtyard! What gives him the right?" someone muttered under their breath.

"Exactly! With middling-to-poor bones, what gives him the right?" someone else secretly bristled.

"He's only been here for a little over twenty days..."

The murmur of voices buzzed like a pot of boiling water, bubbling endlessly over.

Zhao Yan did not speak to stop them. He merely stood there, hands hanging at his sides, his face expressionless as his calm gaze swept over every person.

That gaze was not heavy, yet wherever it passed, the voices there seemed to have their throats seized by an invisible hand, cutting off abruptly.

By the time his gaze had made a full circuit, the training ground was so quiet that they could hear the wind passing the wooden training dummies, hear the thrush beneath the distant corridor fluttering its wings in its cage.

"I do not care what you are thinking, nor do I care what you wish to say." Zhao Yan's voice was flat, betraying neither joy nor anger. "You only need to remember one thing—starting today, Xu Qing is the personal disciple of me, Zhao Yan."

Everyone in the courtyard understood the weight of those words.

Words spoken publicly by a master were nailed into iron; no one could overturn them. If anyone dared spread rumors about Xu Qing in the courtyard from now on, punishment would be the least of it. Being thrown out of the martial hall was entirely possible.

After speaking, Zhao Yan clasped his hands behind his back and headed toward the rear courtyard. His pace was neither quick nor slow, just as it had been when he came. Ning Yun followed behind him. As he passed Xu Qing, he lightly patted his shoulder and smiled warmly, saying nothing more.

Xu Qing stood where he was, feeling the gazes his fellow disciples cast at him. Surprise, confusion, jealousy, envy, congratulations, delight... it was a mixed pot, carrying every flavor imaginable.

He neither lowered nor raised his head. He simply stood there like a tree that had taken root. The wind could not move him, nor could rain shake him.

Those gazes struck him like rain striking stone. They could only run down its surface; they could not seep inside.

Watching his master leave, Wu Mingyuan turned and resumed his stance.

There was no expression on his face, but his eyes betrayed him. They were filled with jealousy, confusion, and the resentment of being surpassed. It was like a thorn lodged in his throat, one he could neither swallow nor spit out.

He had sought confirmation from many sources. He had asked Senior Brother Peng Yue, asked the elders in his family, and even had someone inquire at other martial halls. The answers had all been the same: middling-to-poor bones, regardless of one's physique, left little hope of breaking through to hidden strength. Bright strength was basically the limit. So why had Master still accepted him as a personal disciple? Why let him move into the inner courtyard? What exactly did Master see in him?

Wu Mingyuan could not understand it.

All he knew was that the fisherman's brat he had never deigned to look at directly, that country bumpkin he had not even cared to glance at, was now standing over his head. Not in cultivation, but in status within the martial hall. A personal disciple carried far more weight in Master's heart than he, a registered disciple, ever could.

Xu Qing stood frozen in place, as if someone had dumped a basin of cold water over his head. His expression was the ugliest of all... shame, fury, and jealousy tangled together into something unbearably complicated.

He was Xu Qing's cousin. He had been at the martial hall for over three months, yet had not even touched the threshold of bright strength. Xu Qing had been here barely over twenty days, but had not only broken through to bright strength—he had also been accepted as Master's personal disciple and was about to move into the inner courtyard. Xu Qing had even beaten him. Beaten him flat in front of all the brothers in the courtyard.

He remembered the things he had once said to Xu Qing: "With those poor bones of his, what martial arts can he practice?" "A lowborn fisherman thinks he can turn his life around by learning martial arts?" "If I were you, I'd be too ashamed to stay in the martial hall."

Those words were like slaps, striking his own face again and again, burning hot, each one echoing.

"Master has truly gone muddle-headed," he muttered with his head lowered, his voice pressed very low.

Zhou Wen stood beside him. Hearing that, he glanced at him but said nothing. Zhou Wen felt uneasy too, but he knew that some things could be said and some could not. Calling Master muddle-headed was courting death.

Chen Wang stood at the front of the crowd. Looking at Xu Qing, he smiled and nodded. Xu Qing returned the smile and nodded as well, without any unnecessary words.

"Congratulations, Junior Brother Xu!" Qin Liang's voice burst out from the crowd, loud and utterly undisguised. He stood in the middle of the crowd with a broad grin, his smile more genuine and sincere than anyone else's.

Sun Ping chuckled too, the light in his eyes bright and hot, filled with wholehearted joy. "Senior Brother Xu, you're incredible! A personal disciple! When will I ever..."

Xu Qing smiled and nodded at Qin Liang, then looked at Sun Ping. His tone was not forceful, but it was earnest. "Train hard, and you can too."

Sun Ping gave a firm "Mm," clenching his fists.

A few days later, the day of the yamen's rest arrived.

The martial hall rested that day as well. The martial hall had originally followed the county yamen's schedule. Master called it "resting alongside the officials."

Since Master had accepted him as a personal disciple, he had taught him with everything he had, holding nothing back. Every day, he personally instructed Xu Qing in stance work and accompanied him in breaking down moves and exchanging punches.

He had also had several new outfits tailored for him. All were made from fine blue-gray cloth, with dense stitching, neat and respectable to wear.

At the training ground.

Bang!

Xu Qing threw a punch. The sound was low and solid, accompanied by the sharp crack of sinews and bones vibrating. It echoed several times across the open ground before fading away.

The force of the punch burst outward, stirring up a cloud of dust before him.

He withdrew his fist and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air. In his mind, his technique progress surfaced again—

[Five Elements Fist (Major Accomplishment): 856/1000]

[Three Talents Stake (Minor Accomplishment): 18/200]

Soon. After a few more days of practice, the Five Elements Fist would reach perfection.

"Senior Brother Xu." Sun Ping's voice came from the inner courtyard entrance. He stood beneath the moon gate, leaning half his body through it. "Senior Brother, the carriage is here, right outside. Shall I help you move your things?"

Yesterday, Master had learned that Xu Qing was going home on his day off. Knowing Xu Qing's family circumstances, he had insisted on giving him five taels of silver to buy some useful things for his family. Ning Yun had accompanied him around the city for two hours, and they had bought food and necessities, filling two large bundles.

There was too much stuff, so they had hired a carriage for today.

Sun Ping helped load everything onto the carriage. Once it was packed, Xu Qing went to the rear courtyard to bid Master farewell.

As usual, Zhao Yan sat drinking tea in the pavilion, while Ning Yun stood beside him. Both were looking toward the moon gate. When they saw Xu Qing enter, Zhao Yan set down his teacup, and Ning Yun smiled and nodded.

"Master, this disciple is leaving." Xu Qing stepped forward and bowed.

Zhao Yan nodded. His gaze was gentle, but his tone carried several degrees of solemnity. "Things have been unsettled outside the city lately. Be careful on the road. If you stay home for long, spend the night and return tomorrow morning. Do not travel at night, no matter what. Do not worry about the yamen. I'll have Chen Wang request leave for you."

"Understood, Master." Warmth rose in Xu Qing's heart, and he bowed again.

Zhao Yan waved a hand and lifted his teacup to continue drinking.

Xu Qing turned and headed out. When he reached the moon gate, he heard Ning Yun call from behind him, "Junior Brother Xu, take it slow on the road."

Xu Qing turned back and smiled, his smile bright and steady in the morning light. Then he turned around and strode out.

The driver snapped his whip with a crisp crack, and the carriage rumbled out of the city. Its wheels rolled over the bluestone paving with a rumbling clatter that grew fainter and fainter as it traveled away.

Once they left the city, the road became bumpy.

The dirt road was full of potholes, rocking the carriage from side to side and making the bundles inside bounce along with it. Xu Qing and Sun Ping sat facing each other, chatting on and off.

"Senior Brother Xu, did you learn martial arts so you wouldn't be bullied too?" Sun Ping suddenly asked. His voice was quiet; he had kept this question buried in his heart for a long time.

Xu Qing said nothing and nodded.

"So did I." Sun Ping chuckled, his smile carrying the earnest, guileless seriousness unique to a young man. He lifted the carriage curtain and looked outside. Field ridges, withered grass, and distant farmhouses all swept past his eyes.

After watching for a while, he suddenly spoke again, his voice lower than before. "Senior Brother Xu, do you know Old Zhou from the east end of the bay?"

Xu Qing glanced at Sun Ping. He remembered Old Zhou—his second uncle had mentioned him. He had once been a wealthy household in the bay, until the Leviathan Gang had destroyed his family.

Xu Qing had seen him outside the dockside sheds with his second uncle. His face had been full of wrinkles, his eyes dead gray, like a piece of dried wood. That day, Old Zhou's shack had collapsed, and his little grandson Shunzi had been crushed to death.

"His shack was right behind my house." Sun Ping's voice dropped even lower. "Not long ago, Old Zhou's shack collapsed, and his grandson was crushed to death. That very night, Old Zhou jumped into the river. Early the next morning, someone found his body three miles downstream from the mouth of the bay."

Xu Qing remained silent. The carriage fell quiet, filled only with the rumble of wheels crushing over the dirt road and the clop of hooves against the mud.

"I watched them haul him out with my own eyes." Sun Ping clenched his fists until his knuckles went white. "That expression on his face—I can't describe it... It wasn't fear, and it wasn't pain. It was just... empty. There was nothing left. His home was gone, his grandson was gone, so he went with them."

The carriage jolted, and Sun Ping swayed with it. He braced himself against the carriage wall and steadied himself.

"I couldn't sleep at all that night." He raised his head and looked into the distance, where the end of the field ridges was gray and hazy. "I kept thinking, what if my family had a day like that?"

"What if the Leviathan Gang broke my father's legs and he could never stand again? What if my mother fell ill and we had no money for medicine? I don't want my family to end up like that. I don't want people bullying us until we cannot even catch our breath. I don't want to be like a dog with someone's foot on my neck, unable even to cry out."

He paused. His voice suddenly softened, carrying a trace of relief. "Luckily, Heaven helped me. Not long after that, my father caught a treasure fish deep in the bay too. That fish sold for more than four taels of silver. With what our family had saved, plus what we borrowed, we scraped together the apprenticeship fee, and I came to the martial hall."

Sun Ping turned to Xu Qing and smiled. There was an honest, simple strength in that smile. "I learn martial arts just so I can protect my family. I want nothing else."

Xu Qing looked at him in silence for a moment. Then he reached out and patted Sun Ping's shoulder. He did not say things like "Train hard" or "You can do it." He merely said two quiet words, "You will."

Sun Ping gave a forceful "Mm." His eyes were a little red, but his grin was wide.

The carriage continued onward, its wheels rumbling dully over the dirt road.

Neither of them spoke again. Each was lost in his own thoughts.