Old Appraisals, New Paths

Chapter 2: Old Appraisals, New Paths

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

"Brother, you caught so many fish!"

"They're enough to stew a pot."

Chen Mo smiled and shook the fish in his hand.

Chen Huan reached out and touched a fish tail; the fish body was slippery. She let out a small "ah" and quickly pulled her hand back.

Chen Mo could not help laughing.

"Weren't you quite bold just now?"

"I just wasn't ready."

"Fine, you can touch it when you're ready next time."

Chen Huan hummed indignantly.

"Let's go home."

Chen Mo walked in front while his little sister stepped on his shadow from behind, hopping along. As they walked out of the field ridge, Chen Huan was still humming a tune she had heard at the schoolhouse, but forgot the lyrics after singing two lines.

"How did it go again..."

Chen Mo looked back over his shoulder.

"You really didn't waste your time at that schoolhouse, you couldn't even remember the words."

"I'll remember them tomorrow."

"Alright, I'll wait."

The dusk slowly descended, and wisps of kitchen smoke rose in the alley.

The brother and sister followed the dirt road back to their small courtyard.

The wooden door was ajar, and a faint medicinal scent drifted from the yard.

"Dad, Mom, we're back!"

Chen Huan called out loudly before even stepping through the courtyard gate.

Mother was squatting in front of the stove tidying up firewood, while Father sat under the locust tree sharpening a knife.

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

"You caught fish?"

"Mm, we'll have a treat tonight."

Father let out a laugh.

"Well, you didn't run out there for nothing."

Mother came over, took the fish, and looked down at them.

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

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

Reaching out to touch a fish, she was gently swatted on the back of the hand by Mother.

"Stop messing around, you'll get pricked in a minute."

"I'll be careful."

"Go on, set out the bowls and chopsticks."

Chen Huan acknowledged and ran into the main room.

Chen Mo was not idle either, helping to arrange the tables and chairs and tidying up the things in the yard.

The oil pan in the kitchen soon began to sizzle.

Sizzle--

The rich aroma of fish followed the heat, spilling out and permeating the entire courtyard.

Chen Huan ran back from the main room and tugged at the corner of Chen Mo's clothing.

"Brother, it smells so good."

"Then eat more tonight."

"I want the biggest piece."

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

Dinner was quickly served on the table.

A few dishes of ordinary home-cooked food, with a large bowl of steaming fish soup in the middle.

The family sat around the table.

Mother first ladled half a bowl of soup for Father, then scooped a spoonful for Chen Mo, and finally poured small half-bowls for herself and Chen Huan.

Chen Huan picked up a piece of fish meat, eating with great concentration. A bit of soup stain got onto her chin, and she wiped it away with her sleeve.

Chen Mo glanced at her.

"Slow down, no one is going to take it from you."

"You would."

"When have I ever taken your food?"

"You ate the last piece of cured meat last time."

Chen Mo was momentarily stunned.

"That doesn't count."

The family burst into laughter.

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

"Dad, Mom, the Clear River Martial Hall is recruiting new disciples tomorrow."

Father's hand holding the chopsticks paused for a moment.

"Why do you suddenly want to go there?"

"Zhao Chuan told me, they start recruiting people tomorrow."

Chen Mo shoveled a mouthful of rice.

"They don't charge tuition, and they even provide two meals."

Mother looked at him.

"You've loved practicing those moves since you were little, and you've been practicing secretly for so long. This time you can finally go and test for real."

"I just want to go and try."

Chen Mo smiled.

"Whether it works out or not is another matter."

Father fell silent for a moment.

"I heard that martial hall has a high threshold, why are they waiving tuition this time?"

"They say it's an order from the prefecture, all martial halls are expanding recruitment."

Chen Huan, sitting nearby, instantly raised her head.

"Brother! Are you going to learn martial arts?"

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

"Then will you be able to learn lots of kung fu later?"

"Let's get in first."

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

"Alright."

Chen Mo agreed readily.

Father let out a laugh.

"You should worry about yourself first."

The family ate a few more bites.

Father finished the last bit of soup in his bowl and laid 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 for a second.

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

Father nodded.

"That's right."

Mother chuckled softly nearby.

"Go and try while you're young. Whether it works out or not, at least you'll see a bit of the world."

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

He said nothing more.

Yet his heart truly held a few more traces of anticipation.

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

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

After finishing the meal, Chen Mo helped clear the tables and chairs.

Mother took the bowls and chopsticks into the kitchen, while Father still sat beneath the locust tree.

Chen Huan ran out holding half a piece of leftover wheat cake.

"Brother."

"What is it?"

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

"Really."

"If you pass the test, will you hardly ever come home in the future?"

Chen Mo looked at her and smiled.

"No."

"Then you have to pass."

Chen Huan clenched her small fist.

"Learn good skills, and no one will dare bully our family in the future."

Chen Mo was amused by her.

"Alright, Big Brother will protect you from now on."

"Is that a promise?"

"It is."

"Pinky promise."

Chen Mo looked at her.

"You're already eight years old, and you still play this game?"

"Hurry up."

With no other choice, Chen Mo extended his finger.

Two little fingers hooked together.

"Done."

Chen Huan was finally satisfied.

Mother came out from the kitchen and urged:

"It's getting late, back to your rooms to sleep. Chen Mo has to wake up early tomorrow."

"Understood, Mom."

Chen Huan skipped back to her own room.

Chen Mo returned to his room as well.

The room was dim. He sat on the edge of the bed, not rushing to lie down.

Tomorrow he would go to the martial hall.

Thinking of this, he recalled that remark from a few years ago: not suited for martial arts.

He had no opportunity in the past, so he had no way to prove anything.

Now the opportunity was right before his eyes.

Chen Mo pressed his lips together.

"I have to at least try."

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

Outside the window, insects chirped incessantly.

This night, he went to sleep a little later than usual.

The next day, just as dawn was breaking, roosters were already crowing outside the window.

Chen Mo woke up early and simply washed his face.

In the courtyard, 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.

"Dad, Mom, I'm heading out."

His father casually reminded him:

"Be careful on the way."

"Got it."

Chen Mo smiled and gave an acknowledgment, then turned and walked out of the courtyard gate.

The early morning street was quiet and desolate, with dew clinging to the roadside weeds and a cool breeze blowing against his face.

He quickened his pace, and before long he reached the end of the street.

Zhao Chuan was already waiting there, with a coarse-cloth small bag slung over his shoulder, and he came forward to meet Chen Mo when he saw him.

"You're finally here, I was afraid you might have overslept."

"Do I look that unreliable?"

"A little bit."

Chen Mo glanced sideways at him.

"You'd better shut up."

Zhao Chuan let out a laugh.

"Hurry up, there are definitely going to be plenty of people signing up today."

The two of them walked shoulder to shoulder toward the eastern direction of the town.

The further they walked toward the east of the town, the more people gradually crowded the road.

Along the roadside houses, groups of two or three youths on the main street converged from various alleys into the crowd, all rushing toward the recruitment of the Clear River Martial Hall.

Some had dark skin and sturdy bodies; some were neatly dressed, with family servants following behind them; and still others looked like they had practiced martial arts since childhood.

"Look over there."

Zhao Chuan jutted his chin forward.

Chen Mo followed his gaze and looked.

A solidly built youth was walking in the crowd, with broad shoulders and a steady stride, standing out particularly in the crowd.

"Wang Lie."

Zhao Chuan lowered his voice.

"Old Wang's family from the blacksmith shop, I heard he has been helping his dad forge iron since he was a child, and his strength is frighteningly huge."

Chen Mo took a couple of extra looks.

"He certainly looks quite sturdy."

"Scared?"

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

Zhao Chuan couldn't help laughing.

The two continued forward.

Zhao Chuan jutted his chin toward the other side again.

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

Chen Mo took a look.

Several youths had obviously different attire.

"From out of town?"

"Looks like it."

Chen Mo frowned slightly.

"So many people?"

"Didn't I tell you yesterday? The prefecture government told the martial halls everywhere to expand recruitment."

Chen Mo thought for a moment.

"They've never expanded recruitment before."

"Why suddenly expand recruitment at a time like this?"

Zhao Chuan scratched his head.

"Who knows."

"Matters of the higher-ups, how could the likes of us understand them clearly."

Chen Mo didn't ask any further.

Passing the last street corner, the outline of the Clear River Martial Hall finally appeared before his eyes.

The tall green-brick courtyard wall spread out, the heavy main gate stood wide open, and a black-lacquered plaque with gold lettering hung on the lintel.

The four large characters "Clear River Martial Hall" were somewhat weathered by wind and sun, but one could still discern their vigorous strength.

People were already lining up at the front gate.

Twenty or thirty youths were squeezed together, the line winding crookedly, and the human voices were noisy.

Several disciples dressed in martial hall attire were maintaining order nearby, and at the edge were a few parents softly giving instructions to their own children.

Zhao Chuan glanced over the long line.

"So many people?"

"It seems the five spots are really not easy to grab."

"Scared?"

Chen Mo gave a smile.

"A little bit."

"Admitting it now?"

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

Zhao Chuan instantly had nothing to say.

The two stood at the very end of the line.

The line slowly crept forward.

The ears were full of the youths discussing the assessments.

"Did you hear, they're only taking five this year."

"Five? So many people and they only take five?"

"It's still more than before, previously they only took one or two a year."

"That's still breaking your head trying to squeeze in..."

Chen Mo listened quietly, his palms gradually becoming a bit sweaty.

He wiped them on his trouser legs.

Zhao Chuan saw it.

"And you said you weren't nervous."

"Shut up."

Zhao Chuan burst out laughing.

The line shortened bit by bit.

The people in front walked one by one to the long wooden table at the entrance, behind which sat a middle-aged instructor in gray robes, holding a brush in his hand, lowering his head to ask a few questions and make a few notes, then raising his hand to point inside the door, and the person walked in.

One.

Another one.

Finally, it was Chen Mo's turn.

"Next."

He took a step forward.

The instructor raised his eyes and swept a glance over him.

"Name?"

Chen Mo's heart skipped a slight beat.

That phrase from a few years ago, "unsuited for practicing martial arts," flashed through his mind again.

He quickly suppressed it.

"Chen Mo."

The instructor lowered his head, wrote the name down in the ledger, and subsequently handed him a wooden plaque.

Chen Mo reached out and took it.

He looked down at the wooden plaque, then raised his head to look inside the door.

Scattered sounds of conversation drifted from within, along with the muffled thuds of fists and feet landing against wooden stakes.

He stood for a split second.

Then he stepped forward and walked inside.

This was his first time truly stepping into the Clear River Martial Hall.