Coming to the Door

The moment he finished speaking, the Zhao family and the villagers who had come along were all left dumbfounded.

"He'd only been gone for a little over three months, and he came back a martial artist?" None of the neighbors could believe it.

"Really?" Zhao Youlin and Yang Shi were both shocked and delighted. Zhao Youlin in particular had dreamed more than once of the day his youngest son became a martial artist. He had never imagined it would come true!

Tian Cuihua was the first to react. She hurried forward to help carry the chickens and flour. Her face had flushed red with excitement.

"Old Ding, thank you for your hard work." Zhao Feng took out more than a dozen copper coins for Old Ding and stuffed a handful of fried dough twists into his hands as well. Old Ding beamed from ear to ear.

"Xiao Feng, call for me whenever you're heading out again." He left happily.

By then, quite a few neighboring villagers had gathered at the Zhao family's door, whispering among themselves.

"Who would've thought it? Zhao Feng really became a martial artist?"

"He even found himself a post in the city. Am I dreaming?"

"If he can become a martial artist, so can I. I'm going to study martial arts next month too."

The crowd lingered outside Zhao Youlin's house, talking for a long time without wanting to leave.

Meanwhile, the Zhao family had already shut their gate and begun bustling about.

"Feng'er, you've gone thin from hunger. Martial arts training must have been so hard." His mother, Yang Shi, stroked Zhao Feng's face with heartache.

"Yes, Feng'er, you've suffered." Zhao Youlin nodded repeatedly.

Zhao Feng felt a little awkward. He ate meat every day and was built like a bull. His parents truly spoiled their youngest son too much; they still thought he had grown thin.

The rest of the family was the one who had grown thin, their faces once again carrying the pallor of poor nourishment—especially his mother and sister-in-law.

No matter how carefully they rationed the roe deer meat, a family of their size had finished it within three months. Fortunately, his father had gotten enough nourishment during that time, and his leg injury had fully recovered.

"Mother, I haven't gotten thin. You and Sister-in-law should put these things away. I think we can make dumplings. Bao'er and Zihuai are starving," Zhao Feng said with a smile.

"I want dumplings!" Zhao Bao'er and Zhao Zihuai leaped three feet into the air.

"This is all white flour." Yang Shi carefully held the fine, soft flour. Under normal circumstances, they could not bear to eat it even once in several years.

At her insistence, Zhao Feng had no choice but to agree to mix the white flour with coarse-grain flour to make the dumpling wrappers. That would save some white flour.

"Sister-in-law, look what this is." He took out a hairpin—the very dowry item that had been pawned before.

"I said I'd return it to you, so I definitely would."

Tian Cuihua took it joyfully, tears welling in her eyes. Her dowry had been redeemed, and that counted as an explanation. Their local custom held that once all a woman's dowry had been pawned away, it was terribly inauspicious—the household was bound to decline. But now that it had been redeemed, perhaps their fortunes were finally turning.

Yang Shi and Tian Cuihua busied themselves cutting off the fattest lard to render into oil, then chopping some pork belly with wild vegetables for dumpling filling. The rest of the meat was salted away, while the bones were saved for soup. They could not bear to slaughter the two chickens, so they kept them for laying chicks and eggs. Even after the meat was gone, as long as they had eggs to eat, the old and young members of the household could nourish their bodies. They had long been weak and sallow-faced, and needed steady nutrition.

As Yang Shi and Tian Cuihua worked, they could not help secretly wiping away tears. Back then, everything in the house worth even a little money, livestock and the like, had been sold off by Zhao Feng—or rather, by the original owner of this body. In their wildest dreams, they had never expected Zhao Feng to become so sensible one day.

Before long, smoke rose from Zhao Youlin's home, and the scent of meat drifted out through the door, drawing quite a few villagers to peek inside.

His mother and sister-in-law were busy in the kitchen, while the two little ones bounced excitedly around the courtyard, even rolling about on the ground.

Zhao Feng sat with his father and chatted for a while.

"Feng'er, did you truly become a martial artist?" Zhao Youlin still could not put his mind at ease and asked in a low voice.

"Father, don't worry. Of course it's true." Zhao Feng stood up, took a stance, and threw out several moves with the force of a tiger.

Zhao Youlin nodded again and again. He had once watched martial artists demonstrate their skills, and his son's display carried much the same presence.

"I earned the money for the later tuition fees myself."

"A martial artist can make money like this?" Zhao Youlin took a draw from his dry tobacco pipe, unable to believe it. He had always thought that studying martial arts would let one eat one's fill; being able to eat white-flour steamed buns at every meal would already be the height of fortune.

"But then why is your eldest uncle's family selling their ox?" he asked in confusion.

"Eldest Uncle's family is selling their ox?"

"Yes. Your eldest uncle said Zhao Sheng has also become a martial artist. They want to keep supporting the child's martial arts studies, so they have to sell the ox to pay the tuition fees."

Zhao Feng recalled running into Zhao Sheng at Fortune-Filled Tower. His lips moved, but in the end, he did not reveal the truth.

"Kids, eat fewer fried dough twists, or you won't be able to eat dumplings later!"

"Stop jumping around here! Be careful not to get burned!" Their mother and sister-in-law's scolding voices came from the kitchen. Smelling the fragrance drifting from within, seeing fresh buds sprouting on the large willow tree outside, with the breath of early spring rushing toward him, Zhao Feng felt his heart settle for no reason.

Steaming dumplings were brought to the table, and Zhao Bao'er and Zhao Zihuai grabbed them and wolfed them down without minding the heat.

"They're so delicious!" The two little ones cried out as they scalded their mouths, slurping noisily but refusing to spit them out.

Their little bellies grew round, while Yang Shi and Tian Cuihua ate until their mouths gleamed with oil as well. They had labored endlessly and suffered from poor nutrition. It was good for them to replenish themselves properly.

After the meal, Zhao Feng helped his father chop firewood, did some household chores, and chatted with his family. Then a burst of shouting came from outside.

"Zhao Feng, open the door!" A shrill voice rang out—it was Zhang the Widow's unmistakable voice.

After Yang Shi opened the gate, Wang Jinlian, her face caked in a thick layer of makeup, strutted inside arrogantly.

"What are you here for?" Zhao Feng asked coldly. He looked behind her and spotted a figure peeking around the gate—it was Zhang the Widow.

"I heard your madness was cured and you'd struck it rich. Looks like it's true." Wang Jinlian looked Zhao Feng over, surprise appearing on her face. Over the past three months, Zhao Feng had clearly grown taller and stronger, with a heroic air about him.

She gave what she thought was a charming smile. "Who would've guessed? You've become quite something now."

Zhang the Widow poked her head out from behind Wang Jinlian. Seeing that Zhao Feng was no longer mad, she let out a breath of relief and straightened up. Then she saw the large basin of gleaming white pork being cured in the courtyard, and her eyes went wide.

She stepped forward and picked up the pork. "Perfect. We haven't eaten meat in ages at home."

"Put it down!" Zhao Feng bellowed, making Zhang the Widow shudder.

"What are you yelling for?"

"I said put it down! Get out!"

"Fine, Zhao Feng. Do you still want to marry me or not? Wasn't everything you did for me?" Wang Jinlian demanded angrily.

"For you?" Looking at Wang Jinlian's ghostly, heavily painted face, Zhao Feng felt a chill run through him.

"Didn't you go study martial arts for me? Didn't you buy all these things and make such a grand display just to get my attention? Zhao Feng, stop pretending. Don't you just want to get back together with me?" Wang Jinlian said smugly.

"Immediately give all this meat to my mother, then take out silver and apologize properly. Then I'll consider forgiving you."

"That's right. Wasn't all of this for my daughter to see? You can't even bear to part with a little pork, and you still want to marry my daughter?"

Zhao Feng was stunned. The reason he had made such a display and openly revealed that he had become a martial artist was not to show off, but to give a reasonable explanation for his family's improved living conditions in the future. It would also keep his family from being bullied by thugs again.

Who would have thought Wang Jinlian and Zhang the Widow would assume it was all for their sake?

"If you want to marry my daughter, you can arrange the engagement again. Thirty taels for the betrothal gift, not one coin less. You have money now anyway."

"Oh, and I want two bolts of silk, two chickens, one sheep..." Zhang the Widow counted on her fingers.