Spring came late to Qingshan County.
It was already March, yet the old locust tree at the mouth of the alley had only sprouted a few scattered buds, as though it begrudged the effort of coming back to life.
Deep in the alley, the ground stayed wet all year round. Moss filled the gaps between the flagstones, slippery and soft underfoot, giving off the smell of years-old stagnant water.
Jiang Fa squatted on his doorstep, holding a dry, hard mixed-grain cake. Each bite took ages to chew, and his eyes remained fixed on the crooked flagpole at the far end of the alley.
A faded cloth banner hung from it, the words "Zhao Clan Martial Hall" barely legible.
Today was the Zhao Clan Martial Hall's enrollment day. Once today passed, there was no telling when it would take new students again.
He had been squatting there for three days.
"Little Fa, still looking?"
Auntie Wang the Fat from next door came out with a basin of dirty water, threw it into the alley, and shook the droplets from her hands.
"Your father said you're not to learn that blasted martial arts nonsense. The proper path is to work honestly as a porter with him. It's not like you don't know your family's circumstances. Practicing martial arts is for wealthy gentlemen. It has nothing to do with the likes of us!"
Jiang Fa said nothing. He stuffed the last bite of cake into his mouth, stood up, brushed the dust from his backside, and went inside.
The room was dim. A table with a missing leg was propped up on bricks, and on it sat a nearly empty bowl of pickled vegetable chunks.
His mother sat by the stove, stirring water into yesterday's leftover wild-greens porridge to scrape together a lunch.
Hearing his footsteps, she looked up with a trace of worry on her face. "You're back?"
"Mm."
Jiang Fa walked to the corner, picked up the chipped dipper, scooped half a dipper of cold water from the vat, and gulped it down.
Water ran down his chin and soaked his collar.
"Mother, I still want to go to the martial hall."
He had said those words for three days now, just once each day. He said no more and made no fuss.
Lady Chen's hand paused, and the ladle struck the rim of the pot with a clear clink.
She was silent for a moment before saying hoarsely, "Wait until your father comes home."
Jiang Fa said nothing more. He set down the dipper, went outside, and squatted on the doorstep again.
The sun moved from east to west, and the light in the alley dimmed inch by inch.
Toward evening, heavy footsteps came from the mouth of the alley, accompanied by labored breathing.
Jiang Fa looked up.
His father was home.
Jiang Dashan was forty-two that year, but he looked well into his fifties.
Years of carrying loads had bent his spine and worn thick calluses into both shoulders. Whenever he walked, he always leaned unconsciously to the left,
because he had wrenched his back carrying a load uphill last year. Unable to afford treatment, he had simply endured it, and his back had never straightened since.
Seeing his son squatting on the doorstep, he paused. His gaze swept over his son's sun-darkened face, but he said nothing and walked inside with his head lowered.
Dinner was wild-greens porridge and pickled vegetables. The family of four sat around the table with the crippled leg.
His younger brother, Jiang Xiaohe, was only seven and knew no better than to slurp his porridge noisily, earning a light pat on the head from their mother.
Halfway through the meal, Jiang Dashan suddenly set down his bowl and said in a low voice, "Fa, I'll give some more thought to you learning martial arts."
Jiang Fa's head shot up.
His father did not look at him. He merely stared at the bowl of pickled vegetables, his rough fingers tapping unconsciously on the tabletop. "Tuition is ten taels of silver a year. Add the miscellaneous charges and medicinal herbs, and it'll be at least fifteen. Our family brings in less than twenty taels a year. After all our living expenses, we still have to save money for your brother's schooling..."
"I can work while I learn."
Jiang Fa said, "I heard that once you get into the martial hall's inner courtyard, you won't lack ways to make money. Good money, too!"
"You still have to pay the tuition first!" Jiang Dashan suddenly raised his voice, the veins at his temples throbbing.
"The martial hall isn't a charity. You think they'll let you owe them?"
The room fell quiet.
Frightened, Jiang Xiaohe huddled in his mother's arms, not daring to make a sound.
Jiang Fa lowered his head and stared at the half bowl of porridge he had left, saying nothing.
He knew his father was not angry with him.
His father was angry with himself-angry at his own lack of ability, angry that he could not afford his son's future.
That night, Jiang Fa lay tossing and turning on the heated brick bed, unable to sleep.
The moonlight outside was wan, filtering through the wooden window pasted with yellow paper and casting a hazy patch of light on the floor.
His parents' hushed voices drifted from the next room, broken and indistinct.
He caught only a few words,
"pig," "his second uncle," and "borrow some more."
Early the next morning, when Jiang Fa woke, he found a coarse-cloth bundle beside his pillow.
He opened it and froze.
Inside lay a stack of copper coins and several pieces of silver. The largest weighed about two taels, while the smallest was only the size of a fingernail.
The copper coins varied in age, some still stained with grease. They had clearly been scraped together from different places.
At the very bottom lay a slip of paper with a few crooked words written on it,
in his father's handwriting. The strokes were stiff and uneven in weight, as though he could not hold the brush steady.
"Pay for the first year. I'll find a way to cover the rest."
Jiang Fa gripped the note until his knuckles turned white.
He rolled off the bed and stepped out of the room,
to find his father squatting in the courtyard, repairing a carrying pole with a broken loop.
Morning light fell on his father's graying temples, stinging his eyes.
He lowered his head and focused. With a thought, his personal panel, dormant for so long, appeared clearly in his mind in an instant.
[Talent: Heaven rewards diligence; learning always bears fruit]
Just a few simple lines, without earth-shaking effects or a chance encounter that could carry him to heaven in a single step, yet they were his greatest source of confidence now.
Effort would always be rewarded, and learning would always yield gains. There were no bottlenecks; when the water came, the channel would form.
This was the panel that had suddenly appeared in his mind recently.
In this chaotic, violent world where human lives were worth no more than grass, ordinary people were like ants. Wild beasts, bandits, the ravages of war-any one of them could leave an entire family's heads severed from their bodies.
Only by learning martial arts,
even if he merely became a household martial guard, could he preserve his life in these troubled times and at least secure a place for himself.
And only by learning martial arts could he bring his talent to its fullest potential.
"Father."
Looking at his father, whose back had already been bent by life, Jiang Fa called softly.
"Don't waste words."
Jiang Dashan did not even look up, his hands continuing their work. "Now that we've scraped together enough money, go enroll. Don't dawdle. After today, there's no telling when they'll take students again."
Jiang Fa opened his mouth, but it felt as though something had blocked his throat.
He drew a hard breath, forced down that bitter ache, and turned and ran back inside.
He tucked the bundle of money close to his body and changed into the newest-looking outfit he owned,
the one his mother, Lady Chen, had made for him last New Year, which he usually could not bear to wear.
As he left, his mother hurried after him and pressed two boiled eggs into his hand, piping hot.
"Study hard. Don't get into fights."
Jiang Fa nodded and strode out toward the mouth of the alley.
When he reached it, he could not help looking back.
His father was still in the courtyard repairing the carrying pole, head lowered and back bowed, the sunlight stretching his shadow long, long across the ground.
His mother stood in the doorway, one hand resting on the frame while the other rubbed repeatedly against her apron, watching him leave.
Jiang Fa turned away and took a forceful bite of a boiled egg.
The egg was hot, so hot that even the rims of his eyes turned red.