Small Town and Young Man

The sun gradually slanted toward the west.

The bluestone streets of Qinghe Town had been baked scorching hot, while cicadas chirped one after another in the alleys, vexing anyone who heard them.

Deep within an alley stood a dilapidated little courtyard, all alone.

Beneath an old locust tree, the young Chen Mo was weaving bamboo baskets with his head lowered.

Bamboo strips shuttled back and forth through his hands. His movements were unhurried but extremely practiced. He pressed down the final bamboo strip, and the third basket was finally finished.

Chen Mo had just risen to his feet when a fit of coughing came from inside the house.

"Cough... cough, cough..."

His movements paused as he glanced toward the house.

"Father, are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

His father's voice came from indoors, carrying a trace of hoarseness.

Chen Mo glanced inside twice before he could not help saying, "You say you're fine every time."

The house fell quiet for a moment.

"I really am fine."

"Fine, then."

Chen Mo did not ask any further.

His father had been injured while hunting in the mountains some days ago. It had not been a serious injury at first, but his health had steadily worsened during this time.

But the family's work could not be left undone.

His mother tended their meager half-mu of farmland, and in her spare time she mended clothes for others to supplement the household income. His father kept saying he was fine, yet before dawn the next day, he would still sling his bow over his back and head into the mountains.

Chen Mo was still young, but he had to help with the household work as well. Weaving bamboo baskets was the only way he could be of use.

The family toiled for an entire year, only to barely have enough food and clothing in the end.

His little sister, Chen Huan, had always wanted to attend school, but they still had not saved enough for the tuition.

Chen Mo lowered his head to look at the three bamboo baskets by his feet, then raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

Selling these three baskets would only bring in a few copper coins.

He was just about to tidy up when the voices of two passersby suddenly drifted in from outside the alley.

"Did you hear? Clear River Martial Hall is recruiting apprentices tomorrow."

"Really?"

"The news has spread all over the eastern part of town. They say an official document came down from the prefectural government."

"Then this time will be lively. All the boys in town are probably going."

The voices gradually faded away.

Chen Mo's hands stopped as well, only moving again after two breaths had passed.

Clear River Martial Hall.

Naturally, he had heard those words before.

It was Qinghe Town's only martial hall. What young man had not dreamed of going in to learn a few moves?

But ordinarily, training there required paying a considerable sum. How could an ordinary family afford that?

What was more, he still remembered what had happened several years ago.

Back then, he had secretly followed others to learn a few punches and kicks, only to be spotted by an instructor from the martial hall.

The man looked him up and down, then shook his head.

"You're not suited for martial arts."

Chen Mo curled his lip.

"That may not be true this time."

After saying that, he felt there was little confidence behind his words and lowered his head to continue gathering the bamboo baskets.

Before long, another burst of hurried footsteps sounded in the alley.

"Brother Mo!"

"Brother Mo, are you home?"

Before the person even entered the courtyard, his voice had already arrived.

Chen Mo did not need to look up to know who it was.

"I'm here. Why are you running?"

Zhao Chuan soon rushed in.

Mud clung to the cuffs of his trousers, and his forehead was drenched in sweat. The moment he entered, he grabbed Chen Mo by the arm.

"Stop weaving those bamboo baskets! I've got huge news!"

Chen Mo was pulled off balance and hurriedly steadied himself against a nearby basket.

"Slow down. If you break it, you're paying for it."

"I'll pay, I'll pay."

Zhao Chuan agreed readily enough, but his face was brimming with excitement.

"Guess what I heard?"

Chen Mo shot him a glance.

"Should I guess where you fell down?"

"Get lost."

Zhao Chuan gave him a shove and said with a grin, "The martial hall is expanding its recruitment!"

"I knew that was what you were going to say."

"You already knew?"

"I just heard some passersby talking about it."

Only then did Zhao Chuan realize he had run over somewhat unnecessarily, but he did not care. He immediately repeated the news he had heard.

This time, there was no tuition fee. They would even provide two meals a day, Body-Strengthening Powder every month, and instructors to teach them punches and kicks.

"I heard they're even giving out Body-Strengthening Powder."

Zhao Chuan's eyes lit up when he said this.

"Stuff from the martial hall has to be better than us practicing blindly on our own."

After hearing that, Chen Mo immediately grew serious.

"How many spots are there?"

The smile on Zhao Chuan's face instantly faded somewhat.

"Five."

"Five?"

"Yeah."

Zhao Chuan scratched his head.

"And quite a few people in town are preparing to go. There are also several youths from out of town. It seems they came specifically for this recruitment."

Chen Mo said nothing.

Five spots.

Chen Mo was stunned for a moment.

With so many people in Qinghe Town, the chance of one of those spots falling to him was probably slim.

Zhao Chuan patted him on the shoulder.

"Are you scared?"

Chen Mo glared at him.

"Who's scared? It's just... five people really isn't much."

"I'm thinking about how to get in."

"Have you figured it out?"

"No."

"Then stop thinking. We'll go tomorrow first and talk about it after."

Zhao Chuan's words nearly made Chen Mo laugh.

"You really know how to take things in stride."

"Of course."

Zhao Chuan puffed out his chest.

"I'm going there to learn martial arts, not to take the imperial examinations."

Just then, a voice suddenly came from the neighboring courtyard.

"Chen Mo, you're planning to go too?"

Chen Mo looked up.

At some point, the youth next door had appeared at the courtyard gate, leaning against the doorframe as he watched them.

"Someone like you wants to enter the martial hall too?"

The youth gave a laugh.

"Didn't an instructor already look you over years ago? He said you weren't suited for martial arts."

"There are only five spots this time. Going would be a wasted trip for you. You might as well stay home and weave bamboo baskets."

Zhao Chuan's expression immediately darkened.

"Who are you talking about?"

The youth curled his lip.

"I wasn't talking about you. Am I wrong? You won't even let people speak the truth now?"

Chen Mo watched him for a while.

"How do you know I definitely won't get in?"

The youth froze, clearly not expecting him to retort.

"The instructor already said you weren't suited for martial arts."

Chen Mo shrugged.

"I have to try one more time."

He made it sound easy, but inwardly, he still felt somewhat uncertain.

After all, there were only five spots.

Seeing that Chen Mo refused to back down, the youth gave a cold snort, said nothing further, and turned to enter his courtyard, shutting the gate behind him.

Zhao Chuan was still sulking beside him.

But Chen Mo had already lowered his head and finished putting away the remaining bamboo baskets.

In truth, it was not as though he had never thought of practicing martial arts these past years.

It was simply that no one would teach him, and he had no money to buy medicinal materials. When others practiced boxing, he watched from the side. After they finished, he would return home and mimic the movements he had memorized.

Yet after practicing for so long, he had not achieved anything worthwhile.

He had always remembered those words: "You're not suited for martial arts."

Now, an opportunity lay right before him. There was no need to pay, and meals were included.

If he could truly get in, then at least when he followed his father into the mountains in the future, he would have a few more means to protect himself.

Thinking of this, Chen Mo fell silent for a while.

His father still had not come out.

"Brother Mo."

Zhao Chuan nudged him again.

"Stop thinking about it. We'll go together tomorrow."

Chen Mo nodded.

"Fine."

Zhao Chuan immediately broke into a wide grin.

"I knew you wouldn't chicken out."

"You're the one who chickens out."

"Then don't get thrown out tomorrow."

"You should worry about yourself first."

As the two talked, Zhao Chuan suddenly looked at the bamboo baskets in the courtyard.

"You still haven't finished this work?"

"Not yet."

"Then don't do it."

Chen Mo looked up.

"What now?"

"Come on, let's go catch fish at West River Bend."

Chen Mo glanced at him.

"Why do you think about catching fish every single day?"

Zhao Chuan answered righteously,

"Uncle Chen is injured, isn't he? We'll catch a few fish and stew them into soup to help Uncle Chen recover."

Chen Mo thought it over.

"Fine."

The two then left the courtyard and followed the path between the fields toward West River Bend.

Before long, they reached the riverbank.

The river water had just covered their ankles, cool and refreshing.

Zhao Chuan took off his shoes, stepped into the water, and started looking for fish. Impatient by nature, he reached out the moment he saw one. He caught no fish, but splashed himself drenched from head to toe.

Chen Mo searched slowly behind him.

A fish swam over. He waited a moment before suddenly reaching out and snatching it in one grab.

Zhao Chuan's eyes went wide.

"How did you catch it so accurately?"

"You're too impatient."

"How am I impatient?"

Chen Mo lowered his head and glanced at his soaking wet pant legs.

Zhao Chuan immediately fell silent.

"Try again."

Zhao Chuan followed his method and slowly crouched down.

This time, he really did catch a crucian carp.

"Haha, I told you I could do it too!"

Chen Mo could not help laughing.

"Fine. At least you didn't get into the water for nothing."

The two of them messed around in the river for nearly half an hour, caught several fish, and only then climbed ashore.

Zhao Chuan plopped down onto a rock, basking in the sun with a foxtail grass stem clamped between his teeth.

"Chen Mo, what do you think it's like outside Qinghe Town?"

Chen Mo glanced at him.

"Why are you asking that again?"

"I'm just curious."

Zhao Chuan perked up and began talking about Westplain City, about Jingluo, and even about those rumored martial arts schools and formidable martial artists.

Chen Mo listened while laughing at him.

"You actually dare believe those stories?"

"I've never seen it myself. How would I know whether they're fake?"

"One day, I'm going to Westplain City to have a look."

"Save up the money you made catching fish today first."

At last, Zhao Chuan suddenly asked:

"If we really learn some skills in the future, would you want to go take a look?"

Chen Mo thought for a moment.

"Yeah."

After saying that, he smiled again.

"But first, let's get into a martial arts school."

Zhao Chuan slapped his thigh.

"Now that's more like it!"

Just as Chen Mo and Zhao Chuan were about to head home, a clear voice drifted over on the wind.

"Brother!"

"Brother, where are you?"

Chen Mo looked up.

At the end of the field ridge stood a slight little figure.

It was Chen Huan.

The little girl saw him and hurriedly waved.

"Brother, it's almost dark!"

"Come home for dinner!"

Chen Mo called back to her.

"Coming!"

He picked up the container holding the fish and walked toward his younger sister.

Zhao Chuan called out from behind him:

"See you at the street corner tomorrow!"

Chen Mo turned back and waved.

"Got it. Don't be late."

The sky had already darkened, and only the last gleam of the setting sun remained on the field ridge.

The little girl turned back and urged him, "Brother, hurry up."

He answered with a smile, "Coming."