Those Who Stayed

After Instructor He said those two words, the Blue Martial Arts Hall remained quiet for a long time.

Only when someone coughed did sound return to the training ground.

But this time, things were different.

Everyone was practicing their punches, yet their minds kept wandering.

A punch struck empty air.

A foot landed wrong.

Or someone would settle into a stance, then suddenly stop and glance toward the corridor.

Zhao Chuan was one of them.

He stood before a wooden post, fist raised for ages, but in the end he still could not throw the punch.

Zhou Ye glanced over from beside him.

"How long are you planning to stand there?"

"I'm thinking."

"About what?"

Zhao Chuan lowered his voice.

"What Instructor He said just now..."

Zhou Ye cut him off.

"Don't say it."

"Why?"

"You know. Just keep it to yourself."

Zhao Chuan curled his lip.

"You're scared too?"

"I am."

Zhou Ye answered without hesitation.

That caught Zhao Chuan off guard.

"You're really scared?"

"Of course."

Zhou Ye looked at his fist.

"He's been into the mountains so many times."

"If even he says it's dangerous, who am I to pretend otherwise?"

Zhao Chuan fell silent for a while.

"Then why are you still training?"

"Because I came to the Blue Martial Arts Hall to learn martial arts."

Zhou Ye settled back into his stance.

"Being scared and whether I train are two different things."

Zhao Chuan watched him for a moment.

Then he raised his hands too.

"Then I'll train too."

They threw their punches together.

Bang!

Bang!

The wooden posts rang out twice in succession.

Not far away, Wang Lie trained even more intently.

He was no longer trying to make every punch hit hard, as he had before.

Instead, he kept adjusting his feet.

His left foot went half a step forward.

His right foot drew back.

His body turned slightly sideways.

Then he punched again.

Chen Mo watched for a while.

"What are you practicing?"

Wang Lie did not stop.

"Dodging."

"Dodging?"

"Yeah."

He drew back his fist.

"I used to think that as long as my fists were hard enough and I was strong enough, all I had to do was land a hit."

"Now I think not taking that hit matters too."

Chen Mo nodded.

"Makes sense."

Wang Lie looked at him.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"What were you thinking after you heard Instructor He?"

Chen Mo thought for a moment.

"That I'm not strong enough yet."

Wang Lie did not laugh.

"Neither am I."

The two of them resumed training.

Only Zhao Ming stood at the edge of the grounds.

He had trained less than anyone today.

Ever since Instructor He had spoken that word, his mind had been elsewhere.

Someone walked past him.

"Zhao Ming."

"Hm?"

"Why aren't you training?"

"Taking a break."

"Aren't you usually the hardest worker?"

Zhao Ming managed a faint smile.

"I'm a little tired today."

After the man left, Zhao Ming looked down at his hands.

The calluses on his palms were still thin.

His knuckles bore few old injuries.

Hands like these were still far from those of the veteran trainees.

But he had never thought much of that before.

He just had to keep training.

One day, he would catch up.

But now he suddenly found himself wondering.

If reaching their level still meant he might end up lying in the back courtyard, barely able to walk...

How long would he have to train?

And could he really reach that level at all?

The moment the thought surfaced, he pushed it back down.

"What am I thinking?"

Zhao Ming muttered under his breath.

"Didn't Instructor He say they ran into something unusual?"

"I just need to keep training."

With that, he returned to the wooden post.

His fist shot out.

Bang!

Once.

Then again.

But none of his punches were as crisp as before.

At lunch, the dining hall was noticeably quieter.

Before, a table of a dozen or so could start arguing when they fought over meat.

Today, everyone just ate their own food.

Zhao Chuan had just sat down when he saw Zhao Ming approach with his bowl.

"Is anyone sitting here?"

"No."

Zhao Ming sat down.

He lowered his head and ate a few mouthfuls.

Zhao Chuan watched him for a while.

"Are you thinking about going home?"

Zhao Ming looked up.

"No."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"Then why have you been acting strange these past few days?"

Zhao Ming put down his chopsticks.

"I just feel..."

He stopped there.

Zhou Ye and Wang Lie looked over too.

Zhao Ming was silent for a moment.

"I used to think that if I got into the Blue Martial Arts Hall and trained until I was as good as the veteran trainees, I could go out on assignments."

"Earn silver."

"Make my family proud."

"People would look up to me, too."

"Right?"

Zhao Chuan nodded.

"More or less."

"But now I've realized it might not be that simple."

No one answered.

Zhao Ming went on:

"I'm not saying I want to stop training."

"I just..."

"I want to know if our martial arts can actually keep us alive if we ever run into something like that."

Zhao Chuan frowned.

"How would anyone know?"

"That's why I want to know."

"What good does asking me do?"

Zhao Ming gave a rueful smile.

"I'm just talking."

He picked up his bowl again.

The others did not press him.

That afternoon, a man came to the Blue Martial Arts Hall.

He was in his forties.

He wore an old padded coat.

At the entrance, he exchanged a few words with the gatekeeper.

Before long, a young apprentice came out from inside.

The young man looked about twenty years old.

He exchanged a few words with the man, who patted him on the shoulder.

The two left together.

Zhao Chuan watched from a distance.

"Who was that?"

Zhou Ye shook his head.

"Don't know."

It wasn't until evening that people found out.

The apprentice was going home.

The reason was simple.

He was his family's only son.

His father had heard what happened in the west and wouldn't let him stay at the Blue Martial Arts Hall.

"Just going home?"

"Yeah."

"You won't train anymore?"

"Maybe not."

"But you're almost ready for the Quarterly Assessment, aren't you?"

"Taking it or not doesn't matter that much anymore."

"But you've trained for so long..."

The apprentice smiled.

"I only wanted to learn a few moves to protect myself."

"I never thought I'd actually go into the mountains one day."

After those words spread, the dining hall fell quiet for a while.

Some thought it was a shame.

Some understood.

Others said nothing.

The next day, one more person left.

He wasn't leaving because he was afraid.

His family owed money.

His father was in poor health.

They had sent him to the Blue Martial Arts Hall because they thought learning a skill would give him another path in life.

But now a letter had come from home, asking him to return and help.

"My dad says they need me at home."

"When are you planning to leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Will you come back?"

"We'll see."

After saying that, he slowly gathered his things from his bed.

One set of clothes.

Two pairs of shoes.

A worn-out boxing manual.

And a small medicine bottle wrapped in cloth.

It wasn't much.

Once it was all in his bag, his bed was bare.

Zhao Ming stood beside it, watching for a long time.

The apprentice smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't look at me like that."

"I'm not running for my life."

"There's just trouble at home."

Zhao Ming nodded.

"I know."

"And don't overthink it."

The apprentice said:

"If you want the truth, of course I'm scared."

"But everyone's situation is different."

"If you want to stay, then stay."

"Going home isn't wrong, either."

Zhao Ming said nothing.

The apprentice shouldered his bag.

At the door, he turned for one last look at his bed.

"I lived here for two years."

"Now I'm leaving, just like that. I'll miss it more than I thought."

Someone nearby laughed.

"Come back and visit when you can."

"I will."

The door closed.

The bed stood empty.

No one touched it.

By the third day, there was another empty bed.

On the fourth, another person left.

Some were picked up by their parents.

Others brought their withdrawal papers themselves.

One younger apprentice, after hearing what had happened in the west, said outright:

"I don't want to go into the mountains."

The person handling the paperwork asked:

"No one's asking you to."

"I know."

"Then why are you leaving?"

"I only came to learn how to protect myself."

"Once I'd learned enough, I was going to go home and help my dad with the work."

"With things the way they are now, I don't think this place is right for me."

The registrar nodded.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Then sign here."

The boy gripped the pen, his fingers trembling a little.

After signing, he set the pen down.

No one mocked him.

No one tried to talk him out of it.

Because none of them knew whether they might make the same choice someday.

It was then that Chen Mo spotted a familiar figure.

It was a boy he had practiced boxing with for a long time.

The boy was two years older than him.

They weren't especially close, but they often ate together.

That evening, the boy stood at the entrance with a bag on his back.

Chen Mo walked over.

"You're leaving too?"

The boy nodded.

"Yeah."

"When did you decide?"

"Today."

"Your family wants you back?"

"More or less."

He fell silent for a moment.

"That's not the whole reason, though."

Chen Mo didn't press him.

The boy went on:

"When my dad heard about what happened in the mountains, he came to town that very night."

"He said my mom wouldn't let me stay."

"I'm their only son."

"My mom cried all night."

Chen Mo nodded.

They stood beside the entrance.

Lights were coming on along the street.

The boy glanced at him.

"You're still staying?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Chen Mo didn't answer right away.

After a while, he said:

"I want to keep training."

The boy smiled.

"Didn't you used to say you only trained to place in the top ten in the Quarterly Assessment?"

"That's part of it."

"You still want that?"

"I do."

The boy nodded.

"All right."

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder.

"I'll be going, then."

"Okay."

"See you again if we get the chance."

"Okay."

Neither said anything more.

Chen Mo watched him walk away.

Only when the boy disappeared around the street corner

did he turn back.

The Blue Martial Arts Hall had already emptied out quite a bit.

Before, a room would be packed when they took roll call at night.

Now gaps had begun to appear between the beds.

After someone moved their things out, the bare bed frame looked especially large.

Chen Mo stood beside his bed.

After a while, he sat down.

He reached out and touched the boxing manual on the table.

He didn't open it.

He simply left his hand there.

That night, Zhao Chuan lay in bed and suddenly asked:

"Chen Mo."

"Yeah?"

"You're really not leaving?"

"Not for now."

"What do you mean, 'for now'?"

Chen Mo smiled faintly.

"I'm not an idiot."

"If the day comes when I feel I can't go on, I'll think about it too."

Zhao Chuan fell silent for a while.

"I'm not leaving either."

From the other side, Zhou Ye said:

"I'm not planning to leave either."

Wang Lie said nothing.

Zhao Chuan asked:

"Wang Lie?"

"Practice my punches."

"Does that count as an answer?"

"It does."

Zhao Chuan laughed.

"All right."

In the dark, none of them spoke again.

A long time passed before Zhao Ming spoke from the other side.

"I..."

He got only one word out.

Then stopped.

No one pressed him.

After a while, he said:

"I want to go home tomorrow."

Zhao Chuan asked:

"What for?"

"To see my parents."

"And then?"

"I'll decide when I get back."

This time, no one laughed at him.

Chen Mo closed his eyes.

He listened to the breathing in the room.

There were fewer beds.

Fewer people, too.

But no one knew whether someone else would leave tomorrow.