Trouble at the Door

Idle days always flew by. In the blink of an eye, summer was drawing to a close.

One day in late July, Shopkeeper Liu came by to tell Yang Ge that the inn's repairs were finished and his "unfilial son" would soon be returning to Luting County. Once he arrived, everyone would have a meal together and get acquainted, and afterward the inn would be left in their hands, and so on.

Yang Ge readily agreed.

Less than two days later, someone began pounding hard on the courtyard gate.

"Woof, woof, woof..."

Yang Ge hurried out of the house, glanced at Little Yellow standing splay-legged in the courtyard and barking furiously at the gate, then waved the dog aside and strode over. "Coming, coming."

Creak.

He pulled the gate open, only to be greeted by a fist the size of a sandbag.

Yang Ge instinctively stepped back to steady his stance, then twisted and whipped a kick toward it.

Thud.

Fist and foot collided with a low, muffled impact. Yang Ge and the newcomer both staggered back.

"Inner force? You really do know martial arts!"

The newcomer barked in a low voice, his excitement practically declaring, "Caught you by the chicken's feet, didn't I?"

Yang Ge focused on him and saw a proud, burly Great Han standing outside, his face weathered by wind and frost.

At first glance, the man's most striking feature was his pair of arms, their knotted muscles bulging beneath his thin fighting clothes. He looked as though he had spent far too much time at the gym.

But those enormous, fleshy-looking fists, without a single visible knuckle, made it clear that he was no mere weightlifting fanatic.

Yang Ge studied his vaguely familiar face, then the cowhide guards around his wrists. "Young master?"

He suddenly understood why the old shopkeeper had reacted to the martial arts manual like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, never once asking to take a look or copy it.

Ordinarily, even someone who knew such a thing was beyond their reach would still feel curious and want to stash it away in secret.

After all, it was a chance to rise above the crowd. Even if they could not practice it themselves, they could leave it to their descendants.

The mystery was finally solved. The old shopkeeper had already suffered deeply because of it...

"Huh, was it that obvious?"

Hearing Yang Ge expose his identity at once, the Great Han rubbed his broad, fleshy face in surprise, then stepped through the gate as though they were old friends.

But a moment later, he stepped right back out and craned his neck to stare at the gate in disbelief. "Is this really our crappy old courtyard?"

A smile finally appeared on Yang Ge's face. He stepped aside to reveal the neat, fresh-looking courtyard and gestured inward. "Please come in, young master."

"No wonder the old man likes you so much. Every time he mentions you, he's got nothing but praise. You really know how to keep a home!"

Clicking his tongue in admiration, the Great Han entered again and looked around the elegant courtyard, which resembled the grounds of a wealthy household. He racked his brains for quite some time, but could not connect the squat, dilapidated little yard he remembered with this bright, tidy space.

"Do you like grapes? What'd you put up a grape trellis in the yard for?"

"Once the vines grow in, they'll provide shade. In summer, I can cool off beneath the trellis... and get some grapes to eat while I'm at it."

"Then what's this pond for? Taking baths in summer? It's a bit too small for that!"

"No, that's for keeping fish. Next year, I'll plant some aquatic plants and lotus roots, then put a few fish and shrimp in it. That'll give the courtyard some life."

"How'd you do the paving? I remember polished stone slabs being pretty expensive..."

"Oh, I bought ordinary stone. Once it was laid, I poured water over it and used a millstone to grind it smooth, bit by bit."

Yang Ge brought out a pot of hot tea and beckoned to the Great Han. "Don't just stand there, young master. Let's sit down and talk."

"Would you look at that! You really know how to live properly!"

The Great Han walked over, amazement written all over his face, and dropped heavily into the little bamboo chair, making it creak beneath his weight.

What surprised him was not the courtyard's current appearance. He had seen grounds far grander and more lavish.

What surprised him was that Yang Ge had transformed a crumbling little yard that might once have collapsed at any moment into something fit for a wealthy household.

Yang Ge poured him a cup of hot tea and sat down beside him. "When did you arrive, young master?"

"Just yesterday."

The Great Han picked up the cup, drained it in one gulp, and let out a satisfied sigh. "And stop calling me young master every other breath. Our little business couldn't afford an expert like you. My name's Liu Fuyu... don't laugh. The old man picked it. What could I do? Outside, I go by Liu Mang. Anyone willing to show me some respect calls me Brother Mang!"

"A fine name. Very imposing... but are you firing me?"

Yang Ge joked with a smile, "Without my wages, I won't have any money to pay you rent!"

"Bullshit!"

Liu Mang slapped his thigh in exasperation. "If I fired you on my first day back, the old man would chase me down with a broom and beat me senseless... what I mean is, from now on, forget that whole employer-and-employee business. You call me Brother Mang, and I'll call you little brother. We'll be good brothers who stand by each other-sharing our wine and meat, and wading through water or fire together!"

Yang Ge felt like laughing.

But he had professional training, after all, so he held it in and cupped his hands. "Then I'll be troubling you for plenty of guidance from now on, Brother Mang."

Liu Mang waved a generous hand. "No problem. I came back this time to restore the Iron Fist Gate's prestige in Luting County. It's all the better that you know martial arts..."

"Wait, wait!"

Yang Ge hurriedly waved him to a halt. "What did you just say you were restoring? Aren't we running an inn?"

Liu Mang looked at Yang Ge as though he were an idiot. "How much money can an inn make? If you want fame and fortune, you've got to open a martial arts school! Listen to your big brother. Running one is easy. Disciples have to pay an apprenticeship fee to learn, right? They have to offer tea money at the three festivals and two birthdays, right? Once we've trained enough disciples, won't the wealthy families nearby have to get on our good side if they want guards for their homes? And when we travel the martial world, won't introducing ourselves as the masters of such-and-such a school give us loads of prestige..."

"Hold on, just hold on..."

Unable to get a word in, Yang Ge had to interrupt him again. "Does the old shopkeeper know you want to turn the inn into a martial arts school?"

Liu Mang waved dismissively. "He's an old man. What does he know about us young folks' business? Listen, little brother, there's real promise in opening a martial arts school. That kick of yours looked powerful. From now on, I'll teach punches and you'll teach kicks. We'll call ourselves 'Unrivaled Fists and Feet' in the martial world. Doesn't that sound impressive..."

Yang Ge: ...

So you haven't mentioned any of this to your father at all, have you?

No one knows a son better than his father, indeed. You really are a genuine, certified wastrel-guaranteed, with no cheating young or old!

Liu Mang spent more than half the day pestering Yang Ge, doing his utmost to persuade him to join his grand venture of opening a martial arts school.

Naturally, Yang Ge could never agree, but he could hardly refuse outright either. This was Shopkeeper Liu's only son, after all.

In the end, he could only stick firmly to one answer: "I listen to the old shopkeeper. As long as he agrees, I'll open a martial arts school with you."

Brimming with confidence, Liu Mang went home to battle it out with his father.

Yang Ge saw him all the way to the street corner.

By the time he returned home, his head was spinning. The moment he stepped through the courtyard gate, he heard Big Yellow barking wildly and saw the dog leap at him.

Yang Ge stroked Big Yellow's bristling head to soothe the dog, frowned toward the house, and sighed. "Lord Shen, gates are meant to be walked through, not climbed over."

A moment later, a clear voice tinged with amusement came from behind the closed door. "I spend my days chasing tigers and hunting wolves, never once failing. Who would have thought a watchdog would peck out my eye!"

Yang Ge sighed again, released Big Yellow, and trudged listlessly toward the house. He wondered whether he had gotten out of bed the wrong way that morning. Otherwise, why would all these troublesome people come knocking at once?

Pushing the door open, Yang Ge found Shen Fa seated at the head of the square table, a Gilt Tiger-Head Ox-Tail Saber leaning beside him. On the table sat a flask of wine, a parcel of roast chicken, a parcel of pork head meat, and a parcel of peanuts.

He still wore the same black fighting clothes with their subtle woven pattern that Yang Ge had seen last time, but there was now a scar on his face, and a little more killing intent about him.

Watching Yang Ge enter, he smiled. "Why do you sigh every time you see me?"

Yang Ge replied, "Maybe because seeing you never means anything good?"

Shen Fa gestured for him to sit and answered cheerfully, "Nonsense. I helped settle your trouble last time."

At his gesture, Yang Ge rolled his eyes irritably, thinking, As if you're the host here. "Compared to you, Ding Man isn't worth a fart!"

Shen Fa actually nodded as though that were perfectly reasonable. "True enough!"

Yang Ge nearly rolled his eyes clear into the heavens.

Shen Fa picked up his chopsticks and took a piece of pork head meat. "Have some food. What are you sitting there for?"

Yang Ge shook his head like a rattle drum. "Until you tell me what you want, I wouldn't dare!"

Shen Fa slapped his head sideways and scolded him with a laugh. "Can't you be a little stupider? Being too clever makes life exhausting!"

Uncomfortable with his familiarity, Yang Ge rolled his eyes and shifted his seat farther away.

Shen Fa pretended not to notice. He picked up his cup, sipped some wine, and said slowly, "A Tartar spy escaped the Upper Capital carrying some very important military intelligence. Our men intercepted him here, but his lightness skill is too good for them to catch him. The Eighteen Routes of Chaotic Wind Kicks you practice have good footwork. If you intervene, you should be able to keep him occupied and give our men a chance to kill him!"

Yang Ge nodded with the air of a man who understood everything. "A pledge of allegiance. I get it!"

Shen Fa looked straight at him and said earnestly, "You can't live alone forever. Since you've already taken the first step, why not try taking a few more?"

Yang Ge remained silent for a long time. At last, he reached for the chopsticks, picked up a peanut, and put it in his mouth. "Accepting gifts ties your hands; eating someone's food softens your tongue..."

A smile rose on Shen Fa's face. "I knew I hadn't misjudged you!"

Yang Ge set down his chopsticks and looked at him very seriously. "Let's make this clear first. I don't kill people!"

Shen Fa laughed despite himself. "Do Tartars even count as people?"

"How you reckon that is your business."

Yang Ge shook his head and said firmly, "My parents only taught me to be a good person. They never taught me to kill."

Shen Fa fell silent for a few breaths, then lifted the flask and poured Yang Ge a cup of wine. He sighed softly. "Your homeland must be very prosperous and peaceful."

Yang Ge opened his mouth to answer, but just as the words reached his lips, he felt that something was not quite right.

After thinking for a long time, he raised his wine cup in both hands to toast Shen Fa. "I take back what I just said... I won't kill unless I have no other choice!"

Shen Fa asked in confusion, "Was I wrong? Does your homeland suffer from war too?"

Could it be... the painter made a mistake?

Yang Ge answered, "Conflict and strife exist everywhere. My homeland can enjoy peace because so many people use their youth and their blood to keep that conflict and strife outside our lives..."

Those words stirred Shen Fa deeply, though he let none of it show on his face.

He asked softly, "Do you want to become someone like them?"

Yang Ge shook his head. "I may never become someone like them, but I think I shouldn't run away."

Shen Fa smiled, raised his cup to clink it against Yang Ge's, then tipped his head back and drained it in one clean gulp. "I want to become someone like that!"

His words were soft, yet they struck the ground with a ringing force.