The inner courtyard's rules were not as rigid as the outer courtyard's. Disciples no longer had to practice stances and punches day and night; they could arrange their own schedules.
Jiang Fa tucked his remaining few taels of loose silver close to his body, asked Zhao Zhong for two days' leave, and left the martial hall before dawn.
The morning mist had yet to fully disperse, but a scattering of porters and vegetable sellers were already on the streets.
Jiang Fa bought four piping-hot sesame flatbreads from a breakfast stall by the city gate, wrapped them in oiled paper, and tucked them inside his robe. Then he went to a butcher's shop and spent a tenth of a tael of silver on two jin of pork head meat, which he carried in his hand.
Leaving the city gate, he headed east along the main road for more than ten li, then turned onto a dirt road pitted with wheel ruts. Farmland gradually became more plentiful on either side.
The June wheat had already put out ears. When the wind blew, waves of green rolled into the distance, rippling like water.
Treading over the hard clods on the field ridges, Jiang Fa spotted the old locust tree at the entrance to his lane from afar.
Three months had passed.
The branches that had only shown a few green buds back then were now lush with leaves.
The martial hall's flag that had once stood at the end of the lane had been uprooted by some family's unruly child, leaving only a broken bamboo pole on the ground.
Jiang Fa stepped into the lane and immediately caught sight of his old home.
It looked just as it always had.
The courtyard wall was built of rubble and stood less than half a person's height, with several gaps haphazardly plugged with dry thorn branches.
The jujube tree in the courtyard did look a little more vigorous than it had a few months ago.
Several clusters of tender green jujubes hung from its branches, swaying gently in the wind.
A few women washing vegetables and chatting at the corner of the lane all turned their eyes toward Jiang Fa as he approached.
"Oh, isn't that Little Fa?"
A plump woman spoke first. "Your Auntie Wang hasn't seen you in ages. You're finally back!"
"Hello, Auntie Wang." Jiang Fa smiled in greeting. "I came back to see my parents."
"Oh, child, you've come back looking so much more spirited!"
Auntie Wang looked him up and down, her eyes full of wonder. "Just look at that build! You used to be as skinny as a bamboo pole. You're much sturdier now!"
The other women chimed in:
"Yes, yes, he looks different. Even the way he walks has presence now."
"He's darker, too, but it's a good tan. He looks healthy."
Jiang Fa smiled, said goodbye to them, and hurried toward his home.
Once he was far away,
the women's chatter started up again.
"Didn't the Jiang family's eldest go to a martial hall to learn martial arts? It's been nearly three months or more now, hasn't it?"
"Indeed, three months. Who knows how much he's learned?"
"Judging by the way he walks, he certainly looks the part. Maybe he's made something of it."
"Made something of it, my ass!"
A thin woman curled her lip.
"He's just putting on a show. Do you think learning martial arts is that easy? You know the young master of the Zhao family in the inner city? His family has more silver than they can spend. They hired so many famous masters to teach him, and guess what? In the end, he got thin, the silver was spent, and he never mastered martial arts! I heard he's still bedridden!"
"Exactly,"
another woman agreed.
"We people of Yellow Earth Town are fated to scratch our food out of the dirt. Why copy others and learn martial arts? If he honestly followed his father and became a porter, at least he could fill his belly. The way I see it, that child simply aims too high and hasn't seen much of the world."
"You can't quite put it that way,"
Auntie Wang argued. "I think Little Fa is a clever child. Maybe he really can make something of it."
"What good is being clever? Martial arts take silver, food, and supplements. How far can you get just by training yourself to death?"
The women argued endlessly, their voices growing louder and louder, until someone coughed and they finally quieted down.
Jiang Fa heard none of this.
He had already reached his front door.
He pushed open the creaking, battered wooden door and called, "Father, Mother, I'm home."
A head poked out of the kitchen first.
It was his mother.
Lady Chen still clutched a handful of dripping wild greens. Seeing the person standing in the doorway, she froze for a moment before letting out an "Oh!"
She tossed the greens into a basin, wiped both hands hard against her apron, and stumbled out.
"Fa?"
She seized Jiang Fa's arm, her rough hands feeling over his face, shoulders, and arms.
"Why have you come back? You've gotten thin. You still had some flesh on your face when you left."
"Mother, I'm perfectly fine."
Jiang Fa felt a little embarrassed by her fussing hands, but he did not pull away.
"Look, I'm much sturdier than before. That's from training, not from going hungry."
He pushed the meat and flatbreads into her hands. "I bought some meat. Cook it later. Father and Xiao He love pork head meat."
Lady Chen looked down at the two jin of pork head meat and stared. Her lips parted, but before any words came out, her eyes reddened.
"Child, why spend all this money? You're away learning martial arts. Where did you get the money to buy meat for the family?"
"Mother,"
Jiang Fa held her hand down.
"I'm an inner courtyard disciple at the martial hall now. I won't have to worry about silver anymore. Next time I come home, I'll buy you more-more delicious things."
Lady Chen froze for a moment, then tears began pattering down.
Though she did not understand what an inner courtyard disciple was, she could read her son's earnest expression.
She knew her son had made something of his martial arts training and could earn money now.
She smiled as she wiped her tears, repeating the same word over and over: "Good, good, good, good..."
Jiang Fa looked around the courtyard.
"Mother, where's Xiao He?"
Lady Chen's smile stiffened for an instant. Then she lowered her head and dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her apron. "He's gone to your aunt's. He'll stay there for a few days."
Jiang Fa frowned.
His mother's younger sister lived in Clear River Town, more than twenty li away. Even by ox cart, it took most of a day to get there.
Why send Xiao He so far away for no reason?
Besides, Xiao He was only eight, an age when all he wanted to do was play, and he usually hated going to their aunt's.
Their aunt was strict, and he would get scolded at the slightest thing.
"Where's Father?" he asked again.
Lady Chen's hand shook violently, and the handful of wild greens nearly fell to the ground.
Her lips moved a few times, her eyes evasive, as she stammered, "Your father... is lying down in the back room. He got hurt a little. It's nothing serious. He'll be fine after a couple of days' rest."
Jiang Fa's expression darkened.
He went around the kitchen and pushed open the main room's door. A powerful smell of medicine hit him in the face.
The room was dim, its window covered by a ragged cloth curtain. Only a few strands of sunlight squeezed through the gaps, falling on the mound of bedding on the earthen kang.
Jiang Dashan lay on his side on the kang, facing the wall with his back to the doorway.
He wore nothing on his upper body, leaving his entire back exposed in the dim light.
From his shoulders to the small of his back, great swathes of purple-blue bruising covered his entire back. Some places had already turned black, and clotted blood was faintly visible beneath the skin.
Hearing footsteps, he thought his wife had come in. Without turning his head, he merely said in a muffled voice, "Water."
His voice was dry and hoarse.
"Father."
Jiang Fa called to him.
Jiang Dashan's body suddenly stiffened. Then he turned his head with difficulty.
His face looked more than ten years older than it had three months ago.
His eyes were sunken, his cheekbones prominent, and his complexion as waxy yellow as a sheet of old straw paper. Most of the fresh stubble on his chin had turned white.
A scabbed wound ran beside his left eye, stretching from the end of his eyebrow to his cheekbone. The scab was dark red, its edges still faintly bruised purple-blue.
When he saw who stood before him, a flicker of delighted surprise crossed his clouded eyes.
"Fa... when did you get back?"
His voice suddenly grew urgent, and he struggled to sit up,
but the movement pulled at the injuries on his back, twisting all his features with pain.
He asked nervously and uneasily, "Did the martial hall... turn you away?"
"The martial hall hasn't turned me away."
Jiang Fa held him down by the shoulder, his palm resting on his father's bony shoulder, his expression grim. "Father, what happened to you? Where did all these injuries come from?"
"I tripped while carrying a load."
Jiang Dashan turned his face away, his gaze evasive.
"A fall did this?"
Jiang Fa raised his voice a little. "A fall gave you this many injuries? A fall left your back like this?"
Lady Chen wiped her tears beside them, her voice trembling. "Your father went to the county town to carry loads for someone the day before yesterday. He was like this when he came home."
"Father, tell me the truth. What exactly happened?"
Jiang Fa repeated the question. His voice was quiet, but anger smoldered in his eyes.
There was a long silence.
Only then did Jiang Dashan finally squeeze a few words between his teeth. "Liu Laizi..."
Liu Laizi, whose real name was Liu Laifu, was a notorious local bully.
With his elder brother serving at the yamen to back him up, he ran roughshod over Yellow Earth Town, doing whatever he pleased.
He often threw his arms around idle loafers' shoulders, barking orders and swaggering about, and took particular delight in oppressing the poor.
Jiang Fa frowned.
"Why?"
"They were collecting the head tax."
Jiang Dashan closed his eyes, his lips trembling.
"They raised it this month, from a hundred copper coins to three hundred. Old Zhang next door and I argued with them a little, and they said we were leading a tax revolt and they would make examples of us. Your Uncle Zhang next door was hurt too, no less badly than I was. He's still bedridden."
He paused, his voice growing quieter and quieter. "Seven or eight of them surrounded us, swinging clubs. I curled up on the ground with my arms over my head. When they'd had their fill of beating us, they said before leaving that if I couldn't produce a tael of silver in the next couple of days, they'd come back and beat me again. But how could our family possibly scrape together another tael of silver...? I was worried... so I sent Xiao He to your aunt's to lie low for a couple of days."
Jiang Fa listened in silence, clenching his fists, releasing them, then clenching them again, his knuckles cracking.
Just as he was about to speak, a shrill voice suddenly rang out in the courtyard.
"Jiang Dashan, when are you going to pay back the silver you owe our family?"