The town and the boy

The sun slowly sank toward the west.

The bluestone streets of Qinghe Town were scorching hot, and the incessant cries of cicadas in the alleys grated on the nerves.

Deep in an alley, a shabby little courtyard stood all alone.

Beneath an old locust tree, a boy named Chen Mo sat with his head lowered, weaving bamboo baskets.

Bamboo strips slipped back and forth through his hands. His movements were unhurried but practiced. He pressed the final strip into place, finishing his third basket.

Chen Mo had just stood up when a fit of coughing came from inside the house.

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

He paused and glanced toward the house.

"Dad, are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

His father's voice came from inside, somewhat hoarse.

Chen Mo glanced into the house twice, then couldn't help saying, "You always say you're fine."

The house fell quiet for a moment.

"I really am fine."

"All right, then."

Chen Mo didn't press him.

His father had been injured while hunting in the mountains a few days earlier. It hadn't been a serious injury, but his health had kept getting worse ever since.

Still, someone had to do the work at home.

His mother tended half a mu of poor farmland and took in mending whenever she had time to help make ends meet. His father said he was fine, then shouldered his bow and headed into the mountains before dawn the next day anyway.

Young as Chen Mo was, he had to help with the household work too. Weaving bamboo baskets was the only way he could lend a hand.

The whole family toiled all year, yet barely managed to keep themselves fed and clothed.

His little sister, Chen Huan, had always wanted to go to school, but they still hadn't saved enough for her tuition.

Chen Mo looked down at the three baskets by his feet and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Selling all three would only earn him a few copper coins.

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

"Have you heard? The Clear River Martial Hall is taking apprentices tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Word's already spread all over the east side of town. They say an official notice came down from the prefectural seat."

"Things are going to get lively, then. I bet every lad in town will turn up."

Their voices gradually faded into the distance.

Chen Mo's hands paused as well. Only after two breaths did he resume his work.

The Clear River Martial Hall.

Of course he had heard that name before.

It was the only martial arts hall in Qinghe Town. What boy hadn't dreamed of learning a few moves there?

But normally, studying there cost a hefty sum. How could ordinary families afford it?

Besides, he still remembered what had happened a few years ago.

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

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

"You're not suited to martial arts."

Chen Mo curled his lip.

"That might not be true this time."

Even as he said it, he felt his words lacked conviction. He lowered his head and went back to gathering the baskets.

Before long, hurried footsteps rang out in the alley.

"Mo!"

"Mo, are you home?"

The voice arrived before its owner entered the courtyard.

Chen Mo knew who it was without even looking up.

"I'm right here. What are you running for?"

Zhao Chuan soon came dashing in.

Mud clung to his trouser cuffs, and his forehead was drenched in sweat. The moment he entered, he grabbed Chen Mo's arm.

"Forget those baskets. I've got big news!"

The tug made Chen Mo sway, and he quickly steadied the basket beside him.

"Easy. If you break it, you're paying for it."

"Fine, I'll pay."

Zhao Chuan agreed readily, his face brimming with excitement.

"Guess what I heard?"

Chen Mo shot him a glance.

"Let me guess. You fell flat somewhere?"

"Oh, get lost."

Zhao Chuan shoved him and said with a grin, "The martial arts hall is taking extra apprentices!"

"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 for nothing, but he didn't mind. He went straight ahead and repeated everything he had heard.

This time, there would be no tuition fees. They would even provide two meals a day, Body-Strengthening Powder every month, and instruction in punches and kicks.

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

Zhao Chuan's eyes lit up as he reached that part.

"Anything from the martial arts hall has to be better than us fumbling around on our own."

After hearing him out, Chen Mo immediately grew serious.

"How many places are there?"

The smile on Zhao Chuan's face dimmed a little.

"Five."

"Five?"

"Yeah."

Zhao Chuan scratched his head.

"And plenty of people in town are planning to go. There are even a few boys from out of town who seem to have come for this recruitment."

Chen Mo said nothing.

Five places.

Chen Mo froze for a moment.

With so many people in Qinghe Town, his chances of actually getting one were probably slim.

Zhao Chuan clapped him on the shoulder.

"Scared?"

Chen Mo glared at him.

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

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

"So have you figured it out?"

"No."

"Then quit thinking. Let's go tomorrow first and worry about the rest later."

Chen Mo almost laughed at his words.

"You certainly take things in stride."

"Of course."

Zhao Chuan puffed out his chest.

"I'm going to learn martial arts, not sit the exams to become the top scholar."

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 boy next door had appeared at his courtyard gate. He leaned against the doorframe, watching them.

"You think someone like you can get into the martial arts hall?"

The boy gave a laugh.

"Didn't an instructor assess you years ago? He already said you weren't suited to martial arts."

"There are only five places this time. Going would be a waste of time. You'd be better off staying home and weaving your baskets."

Zhao Chuan's face darkened at once.

"Who are you talking about?"

The boy curled his lip.

"I wasn't talking about you. Am I wrong? Can't I even state the facts?"

Chen Mo looked at him for a while.

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

The boy faltered, clearly not expecting him to talk back.

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

Chen Mo shrugged.

"I have to give it another try, don't I?"

He sounded casual, but inwardly, he still felt rather unsure.

After all, there really were only five places.

Seeing that he refused to back down, the boy gave a cold snort and said no more. He turned into his courtyard, shutting the gate behind him.

Zhao Chuan was still sulking beside him.

Chen Mo, however, had already lowered his head and gathered up the remaining baskets.

It wasn't as though he hadn't thought about practicing martial arts over the years.

He simply had no one to teach him and no money for medicinal herbs. When others practiced their punches, he watched from the sidelines. Once they finished, he went home and tried out the movements he remembered.

But after practicing for so long, he still had nothing to show for it.

Those words, "not suited to martial arts," had stayed with him all this time.

Now an opportunity lay right before him, with no fees to pay and meals provided.

If he really could get in, at least he would have a better chance of protecting himself when he went into the mountains with his father.

At that thought, Chen Mo fell silent for a while.

His father still hadn't come out.

"Mo."

Zhao Chuan nudged him again.

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

Chen Mo nodded.

"All right."

Zhao Chuan immediately broke into a broad grin.

"I knew you wouldn't chicken out."

"You're the chicken."

"Then you'd better not get thrown out tomorrow."

"Worry about yourself first."

As they bantered, Zhao Chuan suddenly glanced at the baskets in the courtyard.

"You haven't finished this work yet?"

"Not yet."

"Then leave it."

Chen Mo looked up.

"What now?"

"Come on. Let's catch fish at West River Bend."

Chen Mo gave him a look.

"Why is catching fish all you ever think about?"

Zhao Chuan replied as though his reasoning were beyond reproach:

"Isn't Uncle Chen hurt? We can catch a few fish and make soup to help him get his strength back."

Chen Mo considered it.

"All right, then."

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

Before long, they reached the river.

The water just covered their ankles and was wonderfully cool.

Zhao Chuan took off his shoes and stepped into the water, immediately searching for fish. He was impatient, reaching out the moment he spotted one. He failed to catch the fish and only ended up soaked all over.

Chen Mo searched slowly behind him.

A fish swam over. He waited a moment, then suddenly reached out and caught it in one grab.

Zhao Chuan stared, his eyes wide.

"How do you grab them so accurately?"

"You're too impatient."

"How am I impatient?"

Chen Mo lowered his head and glanced at Zhao Chuan's drenched trouser legs.

Zhao Chuan immediately fell silent.

"Try again."

Following his method, Zhao Chuan slowly crouched down.

This time, he actually managed to catch a crucian carp.

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

Chen Mo couldn't help laughing.

"All right, at least you didn't get into the water for nothing."

The two spent nearly an hour splashing around in the river, catching a few fish before climbing ashore.

Zhao Chuan plopped down on a rock and basked in the sun, a stalk of foxtail grass between his lips.

"Chen Mo, what do you think it's really 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, Jingluo, and even the Blue Martial Arts Hall and powerful Martial Artists he'd heard rumors about.

Chen Mo listened, teasing him as he went.

"You actually believe those stories?"

"I've never seen any of it. How would I know whether they're made up?"

"Someday, I'm going to visit Westplain City."

"Save the money from today's fish first, then we'll talk."

Toward the end, Zhao Chuan suddenly asked:

"If we really do learn some skills someday, would you want to go take a look?"

Chen Mo thought for a moment.

"Of course."

After saying that, he smiled again.

"But for now, let's pass the entrance test for the Blue Martial Arts Hall first."

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 breeze.

"Brother!"

"Brother, where are you?"

Chen Mo looked up.

A small, thin figure stood at the far end of the field ridge.

It was Chen Huan.

The little girl spotted 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 behind him:

"Meet you at the street corner tomorrow!"

Chen Mo turned and waved.

"Got it. Don't be late."

The sky had already darkened, and only the last traces of the sunset's glow fell across the field ridge.

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

He smiled and answered, "Coming."