Returning to the village

Of course, he had to visit Little Aunt first. Zhao Feng shouldered a large burlap sack and headed to her home in the Outer City.

He had not set foot in her home since that first visit when he arrived. Usually, he went to the Embroidery Workshop to see Little Aunt and Qiao'er. This was only his second time here.

When he entered the courtyard, his uncle was chopping firewood. Seeing him arrive, the man pretended not to notice, not even lifting his eyelids, much less offering a greeting.

Zhao Feng ignored him and called out clearly:

"Little Aunt! Qiao'er!"

Little Aunt and Qiao'er came out of the kitchen, wiping their hands. At the sight of Zhao Feng, they ran over with delighted faces.

"Feng'er!" "Cousin!"

"Little Aunt, I brought these for you." Zhao Feng took two plump live chickens out of the sack, and the atmosphere suddenly grew strange.

"Ah!" Zhao Youfang stared for a long moment before letting out a startled cry.

"Feng'er, I can't take these. They must have cost a lot!"

"Little Aunt, I successfully broke through. I'm a Bright Strength martial artist now, and I've secured a nominal post," Zhao Feng said with a smile.

Seeing that she did not quite understand, he put it another way. "I'm a Martial Master now. I have a job that pays a monthly silver stipend. This is small change."

At her nephew's words, Zhao Youfang's mouth fell open. "Feng'er, is that true?" she asked softly. Zhao Feng smiled and nodded. Once she had his confirmation, the perpetually downturned corners of her careworn face visibly began to curve upward. Trembling, she covered her face with her rough hands, and tears streamed down.

"Feng'er is a Martial Master. He has a job in the city! He's made something of himself," she murmured.

"Cousin, that's wonderful!" Qiao'er jumped for joy.

Hearing that Zhao Feng had become a Martial Master, his uncle, Tao Qing, who had been standing to one side with a stiff face, managed to squeeze out a smile. He approached and asked cautiously, "Little Feng, have you really become a Martial Master?" He could hardly believe it. His family had always called the Zhao Family a bunch of good-for-nothing mud-legged peasants. Had they really produced a Martial Master?

Zhao Feng did not answer his question. Instead, he said coldly:

"Uncle, my aunt hasn't had an easy life. If anyone bullies her, my fists won't care who they are." He stretched his limbs, and his joints crackled.

Tao Qing's expression changed at once. He nodded repeatedly in embarrassment, then retreated into the house.

"Little Aunt, don't worry. I'm a Martial Master now. With me here, no one will bully you again. If anything happens, just come find me at the Huo Family Martial Arts School." Zhao Feng deliberately spoke loudly toward the main room.

His keen senses picked up a flurry of panic inside the main room, along with the sound of arguing.

Zhao Feng turned back to Little Aunt, his expression softening. He drew Zhao Youfang aside and pressed two taels of silver into her hand. "Little Aunt, take this. I'm paying you back."

"Little Feng, I was only joking. You don't need to pay me back," Zhao Youfang said hurriedly.

"Little Aunt, if I need money in the future, I'll borrow from you again. Pay back what you borrow, and borrowing again won't be hard. If you won't take it, I won't borrow from you anymore," Zhao Feng said.

"But I only gave you one tael. Feng'er, I was joking with you. I can't take interest," Zhao Youfang said anxiously.

"It's not interest. The other tael is for Qiao'er. Buy her more good food and a couple of lengths of cloth to make clothes. Little Aunt, don't let anyone else use this money. And when that old hen lays eggs, give them to Qiao'er to build up her health," Zhao Feng instructed.

Zhao Youfang could only accept it, secretly wiping away tears of joy.

Qiao'er happily saw him out of the courtyard. Zhao Feng took out several illustrated storybooks and gave them to her, making her beam with delight.

Zhao Feng left Little Aunt's home. He had intended to give her more money and supplies, but judging by what he had seen, most of it would never end up in her or Qiao'er's hands. He would bring them more things when he visited the Embroidery Workshop instead.

He just needed to back Little Aunt up as much as possible and give her some standing.

In Jiazi Ravine Village, Greenhouse Township, a number of villagers had gathered at the village entrance. The mood was bleak.

"The fighting with the Northern Barbarians is fierce this year, so the authorities are adding a Spring Tax. They'll be collecting it in a few days. How are we supposed to survive?"

"Last year was a disaster. We were just hoping for a better harvest this year, and now the authorities have added a Spring Tax. Heavens, when will this ever end?"

The sallow-faced villagers all wore worried expressions. Ever since the Village Head had announced the additional Spring Tax, clouds of gloom had hung over every household.

Before, roughly sixty or seventy percent of each year's harvest had gone toward all manner of harsh taxes and levies. The added Spring Tax placed an even greater burden on farming families. They had thought things would improve if they could just make it through last year, but now it seemed this year was the true ordeal.

Just then, a clear jingling came from beyond the village entrance. Everyone knew it was Old Ding, the peddler, returning from the County Seat with goods on his donkey cart.

"Youlin's youngest is back!" Old Ding called from the front of the cart.

"Youlin's youngest? Isn't that Zhao Feng, the good-for-nothing?"

"Wasn't that boy sent to the city to learn martial arts? Did they send him back?"

"That's right. He must have failed and been sent back. Him? Don't tell me you expected him to become a Martial Master?"

The villagers at the entrance all shook their heads. Youlin's family had no sense of their own limits. They had squandered what little savings they had.

Only when the donkey cart drew closer did the villagers notice the sturdy young man seated on it, dressed in a fitted blue-green martial outfit. His features looked somewhat familiar.

"That's Youlin's boy? He doesn't look like him."

"He's only been gone a little over three months, and he's changed completely."

What shocked them even more was what they saw when they looked closely: the donkey cart carried an entire half-pig carcass, a sack of white flour, and two tethered chickens. The sight made their mouths water, but it also left them astonished. Who did all this belong to?

The curious villagers could not help following the donkey cart, and their numbers steadily grew.

When the mule cart reached the open space at the center of the village, Zhao Feng spotted his nephews, Zhao Bao'er and Zhao Zihuai, playing there with the other children.

"Your dad isn't coming back. You're kids without a dad," an older child with a runny nose shouted at them.

"We don't play with kids who don't have a dad."

"You're the one without a dad! Our dad will definitely come back!" Zhao Bao'er and Zhao Zihuai shouted, their faces flushed red.

"Bao'er! Zihuai!" Zhao Feng called, getting off the donkey cart.

Zhao Bao'er and Zhao Zihuai turned toward his voice. The moment they saw Zhao Feng, they were overjoyed.

"Second Uncle! You're back!" The two little boys hurried over to greet him.

After three months apart, Zhao Feng saw that the two little boys' faces had grown a little sallow again, and his heart ached.

He pinched their little cheeks. "Hungry? Here, have something to eat." He took a bag of fried pastries out of his robe.

"Second Uncle, what are these?" Zhao Bao'er and Zhao Zihuai asked, staring eagerly at the fried pastries and drooling at their fragrance.

"They're fried pastries. Go on, eat." The two little boys carefully put the pastries into their mouths. The crisp, flaky sweetness left them stunned.

They had never eaten anything so delicious. Once they recovered, they scrambled to eat more.

The children who had mocked them earlier only dared watch from a distance and drool. After all, Zhao Feng still had his fearsome reputation as a crazed hooligan.

"One handful each. Don't fight. There's more."

Each little boy grabbed a handful, then raced madly home while eating.

"Slow down! Don't fall! Don't run with food in your mouths!"

Zhao Feng climbed back onto the donkey cart and headed toward his home at the eastern end of the village.

"Grandpa! Grandma! Mom! Second Uncle's home!"

Before he even reached the gate, his father, Zhao Youlin, his mother, Yang Shi, and his sister-in-law, Tian Cuihua, had already come out to meet him after the two little boys brought the news.

"Dad, Mom, Sister-in-law, I'm back!" Zhao Feng jumped off the cart and shouldered the half-pig carcass, which weighed a full fifty jin. His family froze in astonishment.

"Feng'er, where did you get the money to buy all this?" Zhao Youlin asked, his voice trembling. His greatest fear was that his son had taken some crooked path.

"Dad, I was just about to tell you, Mom, and Sister-in-law. I'm a Martial Master now, and I've found a nominal post in the Inner City. I bought all of this myself," Zhao Feng said loudly.