The next morning.
Bang, bang, bang.
"Lad, are you up yet? Lad..."
The heavy pounding on the gate and Liu Mang's firecracker of a voice woke Yang Ge from his sleep.
He tried to get up, but his limbs felt weak and the world spun around him. Supporting himself against the headboard, he struggled slowly into a sitting position. Only after several labored breaths did he slip on his cloth shoes and slowly make his way outside.
Creak.
Yang Ge opened the gate and found Liu Mang standing outside with a pair of cured pig's trotters in his hand, his burly frame blocking the entire entrance.
"What took you so long to open up... Why do you look so awful?"
Holding the gate for support, Yang Ge stepped aside to let him in and forced a smile. "Must've caught a chill. Just a bit of a cold, nothing serious... Come in and sit down!"
He let go of the gate and reached for the courtyard wall.
Liu Mang stepped through the gate and caught his arm, asking with concern, "How'd you manage that? With your martial arts, how could you catch a cold?"
Yang Ge managed a smile. "Maybe knowing martial arts made me careless, and that's how I caught it!"
Liu Mang thought about it, then nodded. "That's true enough. Us martial artists don't get sick easily, but when we do, it's serious... Good thing I came over today!"
As he spoke, he supported Yang Ge and slowly helped him into the courtyard.
"Well, this is embarrassing!"
Yang Ge smiled sheepishly. "I should've been the one visiting you and the old proprietor to wish you a happy New Year. How could I make you come to me..."
"We're brothers. None of that matters!"
Liu Mang replied casually, "Your Uncle