Old Assessment, New Path

Old Assessment, New Path

Seeing her brother approach, Chen Huan skipped over to greet him, her eyes fixed curiously on the fish strung together with grass rope.

"Brother, you caught so many fish!"

"Enough to stew a whole pot."

Chen Mo smiled and gave the fish in his hand a shake.

Chen Huan reached out and touched a fish tail. Its body was slick and slippery; she gave a startled "Ah!" and hurriedly pulled her hand back.

Chen Mo could not help laughing.

"Weren't you supposed to be pretty brave?"

"I just wasn't ready."

"Fine. Touch them next time when you're ready."

Chen Huan gave an unconvinced snort.

"Come on, let's go home."

Chen Mo walked in front while his little sister hopped along behind him, stepping on his shadow. As they left the field ridge, Chen Huan was still humming a tune she had learned at school, but after singing two lines, she forgot the words.

"How did it go again..."

Chen Mo glanced back at her.

"So your time at school wasn't wasted after all. You didn't even remember the lyrics."

"I'll remember them tomorrow."

"Fine, I'll wait."

Dusk gradually descended, and wisps of cooking smoke rose through the alleyways.

The siblings followed the dirt path back to their little courtyard.

The wooden gate was ajar, and a faint scent of medicinal herbs drifted from inside.

"Father, Mother, we're back!"

Before Chen Huan even entered the courtyard, she called out loudly.

Their mother was squatting by the stove, sorting out firewood, while their father sat beneath the locust tree sharpening a knife.

Hearing them, their father stopped what he was doing, his gaze falling on the string of fish in Chen Mo's hand.

"Caught some fish?"

"Yeah, we're in for a treat tonight."

Their father chuckled.

"So the trip wasn't for nothing."

Their mother came over, took the fish, and lowered her head to inspect them.

"They're not small, either. Enough to stew a whole pot."

She carried the fish to the well to clean them, and Chen Huan immediately followed.

She reached out to touch one, only for her mother to lightly smack the back of her hand.

"Don't fool around. You'll get pricked."

"I'll be careful."

"Go set out the bowls and chopsticks."

Chen Huan answered and ran into the main room.

Chen Mo did not sit idle either. He helped arrange the table and chairs, then tidied up the things in the courtyard.

Before long, oil began to crackle in the kitchen.

Sizzle—

The fragrance of fish rose with the steam and drifted through the entire courtyard.

Chen Huan ran back from the main room and tugged at Chen Mo's sleeve.

"Brother, it smells so good."

"Then eat more tonight."

"I want the biggest piece."

"Fine, I'll save it for you."

Dinner was soon laid out on the table.

There were several simple homemade dishes, with a large steaming bowl of fish soup in the middle.

The family gathered around the table.

Their mother first served their father half a bowl of soup, then ladled a spoonful for Chen Mo, and only afterward filled small half-bowls for herself and Chen Huan.

Chen Huan picked up a piece of fish and ate with great focus. A little broth stained her chin, and she wiped it away with her sleeve.

Chen Mo glanced at her.

"Slow down. No one's fighting you for it."

"You would."

"When have I ever fought you for food?"

"Last time, you ate the last piece of cured meat."

Chen Mo froze for a moment.

"That doesn't count as fighting you for it."

The whole family laughed.

Halfway through the meal, Chen Mo remembered the news he had heard that afternoon and spoke up.

"Father, Mother, Clear River Martial Hall is recruiting new disciples tomorrow."

Their father's hand paused as he picked up food.

"Why do you suddenly want to go there?"

"Zhao Chuan told me. They start taking applicants tomorrow."

Chen Mo took a mouthful of rice.

"There's no tuition, and they provide two meals a day."

Their mother glanced at him.

"You've loved practicing those moves since you were little. You've secretly trained for so long—this time, you can finally go take a proper test."

"I just want to give it a try."

Chen Mo smiled.

"Whether I make it or not is another matter."

Their father fell silent for a moment.

"I heard the martial hall has a high threshold. Why aren't they charging tuition this time?"

"They say it's an order from the provincial government. Martial halls everywhere are expanding recruitment."

Chen Huan instantly looked up.

"Brother! You're going to learn martial arts?"

"Yeah, I'll go take the test first."

"Then will you learn lots and lots of kung fu afterward?"

"Let's talk after I get in."

"Then after you get in, you have to teach me."

"Fine."

Chen Mo agreed without hesitation.

Their father chuckled.

"You should worry about yourself first."

The family took a few more bites.

After finishing the last mouthful of soup in his bowl, their father set down his chopsticks.

"If you want to go, then go. Trying won't hurt."

Chen Mo nodded.

"Then I'll go tomorrow."

"What if you don't pass?"

Chen Mo paused.

"I'll come back and keep weaving baskets."

Their father nodded.

"That's the spirit."

Their mother gave a soft laugh beside them.

"Go try while you're young. Whether you succeed or not, at least you'll have seen the world."

Chen Mo lowered his head and drank two mouthfuls of soup.

He said nothing more.

But there was indeed a little more anticipation in his heart.

Before, he could only stand outside the martial hall and look in.

This time, he finally had a chance to go inside and try.

After dinner, Chen Mo helped clear away the table and chairs.

Their mother took the bowls and chopsticks into the kitchen, while their father still sat beneath the locust tree.

Chen Huan came running out, holding half an unfinished wheat cake.

"Brother."

"What is it?"

"Are you really going to the martial hall tomorrow?"

"Really."

"If you pass, will you hardly come home anymore?"

Chen Mo looked at her and smiled.

"No."

"Then you have to pass."

Chen Huan clenched her little fists.

"Learn real skills, and then no one will dare bully our family."

Chen Mo laughed at her words.

"Fine. Your brother will protect you from now on."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Pinky swear."

Chen Mo looked at her.

"You're already eight. You still play this game?"

"Hurry up."

Helpless, Chen Mo held out his hand.

Their little fingers hooked together.

"There."

Only then was Chen Huan satisfied.

Their mother came out of the kitchen and urged them.

"It's getting late. Go back to your rooms and sleep. Chen Mo has to get up early tomorrow."

"Got it, Mother."

Chen Huan skipped back to her own room.

Chen Mo also returned to his room.

The room was dim. He sat on the edge of the bed without rushing to lie down.

Tomorrow, he would be going to the martial hall.

Thinking of that, he remembered the words from several years ago: "Not suited for martial arts."

Back then, he had no opportunity and no way to prove anything.

Now, the opportunity lay right before his eyes.

Chen Mo pressed his lips together.

"I have to try."

He blew out the oil lamp and lay down on the bed.

Outside the window, insects chirped without pause.

That night, he fell asleep a little later than usual.

The next day, when dawn had only just begun to brighten the sky, roosters were already crowing outside.

Chen Mo woke early and quickly washed his face.

In the courtyard, his mother had already lit the stove fire.

"Up so early?"

"I made plans with Zhao Chuan. I need to hurry to the street corner."

"Eat something first."

"I know."

Chen Mo hurriedly ate a few bites.

"Father, Mother, I'm heading out first."

His father casually reminded him:

"Be careful on the road."

"Got it."

Chen Mo answered with a smile, then turned and walked out through the courtyard gate.

The streets were quiet and deserted in the early morning. Dew clung to the roadside weeds, and a cool breeze rushed into his face.

He quickened his pace and soon reached the street corner.

Zhao Chuan was already waiting there, a small coarse-cloth bundle slung over his shoulder. The moment he saw Chen Mo, he came up to greet him.

"You finally made it. I was afraid you'd overslept."

"Do I really look that unreliable?"

"A little."

Chen Mo shot him a glance.

"You'd better shut up."

Zhao Chuan chuckled.

"Come on. There'll definitely be a lot of people signing up today."

The two walked shoulder to shoulder toward the eastern side of town.

The farther east they went, the more people filled the roads.

From the roadside houses and the main streets, groups of two or three youths emerged from every alley and joined the crowd, all heading for Clear River Martial Hall's recruitment.

Some were dark-skinned and powerfully built; some were neatly dressed, with family servants following behind them; others looked as though they had trained in fists and kicks since childhood.

"Look over there."

Zhao Chuan jerked his chin toward the front.

Chen Mo followed his gaze.

A sturdy youth was walking amid the crowd, broad-shouldered and steady-footed, standing out like a crane among chickens.

"Wang Lie."

Zhao Chuan lowered his voice.

"Old Wang from the blacksmith shop's son. I heard he's been forging iron with his father since he was little. His strength is frightening."

Chen Mo took a few more looks at him.

"He does look pretty solid."

"Scared?"

"I just think that if I arm-wrestled him, I'd probably lose pretty fast."

Zhao Chuan could not help laughing.

The two continued onward.

Zhao Chuan jerked his chin toward the other side again.

"Those guys don't look like they're from our town."

Chen Mo glanced over.

Several youths were dressed noticeably differently.

"From out of town?"

"Looks like it."

Chen Mo frowned slightly.

"So many people?"

"Didn't I tell you yesterday? The prefectural government ordered martial halls everywhere to expand enrollment."

Chen Mo thought about it.

"They've never expanded enrollment before."

"Why suddenly expand it now?"

Zhao Chuan scratched his head.

"Who knows."

"How could people like us possibly understand the affairs of those above?"

Chen Mo did not ask any further questions.

After passing the last street corner, the outline of Clear River Martial Hall finally appeared before them.

Tall blue-brick walls stretched outward, and the heavy gates stood open. Above them hung a black plaque adorned with gilded lettering.

The four characters Clear River Martial Hall had been weathered by wind and rain, yet their bold, vigorous force could still be seen.

A line had already formed at the entrance.

Twenty or thirty youths were crowded together, the queue crooked and uneven amid a noisy clamor of voices.

Several students dressed in martial hall uniforms were maintaining order nearby, while a few parents stood to the side, quietly giving their children last-minute instructions.

Zhao Chuan swept his gaze over the long line.

"So many people?"

"Looks like those five spots really won't be easy to fight for."

"Scared?"

Chen Mo smiled.

"A little."

"Now you admit it?"

"You're not doing much better than me."

Zhao Chuan was immediately left speechless.

The two took their place at the back of the line.

The queue slowly shuffled forward.

The youths' discussions of the assessment filled the air around them.

"Did you hear? They're only taking five this year."

"Five? With this many people, they're only taking five?"

"That's still more than before. They used to take only one or two a year."

"Even so, people will be fighting until their heads crack and blood flows..."

Chen Mo listened quietly, and sweat gradually formed in his palms.

He wiped them on his trouser leg.

Zhao Chuan saw it.

"And you said you weren't nervous."

"Shut up."

Zhao Chuan laughed.

The line shortened little by little.

One by one, the people in front walked up to the long table by the gate. Behind it sat a middle-aged instructor in gray. He held a brush, lowered his head to ask a few questions and jot down a few notes, then raised a hand to point inside. The person would then enter.

One.

Then another.

At last, it was Chen Mo's turn.

"Next."

He took a step forward.

The instructor lifted his eyes and gave him a quick once-over.

"Name?"

Chen Mo's heart tightened slightly.

The words from years ago—"not suited for martial arts"—flashed through his mind again.

He quickly suppressed them.

"Chen Mo."

The instructor lowered his head, wrote down his name in the register, then handed him a wooden token.

Chen Mo reached out and accepted it.

He lowered his head to glance at the token, then looked up through the gates.

Scattered voices came from within, along with the dull thuds of fists and kicks striking wooden posts.

He stood there for a moment.

Then he stepped inside.

This was the first time he had truly entered Clear River Martial Hall.