Chapter 3: Cousin

"Xiao Heng is truly promising now."

Chen Jinhua’s tone was complex, a mix of envy and bitterness.

What did he mean by "didn't have time to tell us"? It was clearly favoritism.

How could the second son afford to pay for Chen Heng’s martial arts training? It was all paid for by the old man.

"If Heng'er can pass the martial arts examination," the old man said, his Adam's apple bobbing as he spoke with anticipation, "our family's taxes could be reduced by sixty percent."

Chen Heng puffed out his chest and vowed, "Grandfather, don't you worry! I will study hard. Not only will I reduce the family's tax burden, but once I save up enough silver in the future, I will bring you into the inner city to enjoy a life of comfort!"

He tilted his head back, a hint of smugness in his expression.

He was only a youth, after all; how could he not be high-spirited after achieving some success?

"Good, good, good!"

The old man’s face was full of gratification, his mouth unable to stop smiling.

The inner city was the place he had dreamed of his entire life.

Thinking of this, the look the old man gave Chen Heng held not just affection, but a heavy, added layer of hope.

Han-shi gave a few distracted, perfunctory replies before finally returning to the main topic: "Father, about A-Qing learning a trade..."

"Sigh!"

The old man let out a long sigh, tapped his pipe against the edge of the table, and said, "Xiao Heng’s martial arts training concerns the rise and fall of our Chen family. We need to prepare more... in terms of silver."

Having spent most of his life struggling and getting battered by this world, he knew deeply that to make a name for oneself, the family had to produce someone capable in martial arts.

Chen Heng was the Chen family’s only hope.

As for Chen Qing learning a trade, he was truly powerless to help.

"Big Sister-in-law!"

Chen Wen said with a pained expression, "You have to look at the long term! If Xiao Heng passes the exam in the future, what will that look like? Could he possibly forget you, his aunt? You need to broaden your horizons!"

Hearing this, Han-shi was rendered speechless.

"Xiao Heng."

Chen Jinhua’s mind began to race, and she quickly added, "If you run into any difficulties with your training, just tell your aunt! I will definitely support you!"

She was thinking of currying favor with him early.

Chen Heng said bluntly, "Aunt, I don't have any difficulties right now, I just want to eat meat."

Gaolin County was located by the river, and most of the people made their living by fishing, which made pork very expensive.

At the mention of "meat," even Chen Wen couldn't help but swallow his saliva.

"You child, what nonsense are you spouting?"

The second aunt slapped Chen Heng in mock anger, then turned to Chen Jinhua with a forced smile: "Sister, the child is just being gluttonous and talking nonsense. Don't take it to heart."

Chen Jinhua felt a pang of heartache, but she forced a smile on her face: "Wanting to eat meat is simple! Come to your aunt's house tomorrow, I'll make sure you have enough!"

"Thank you, Aunt." Chen Heng replied quickly, as if afraid Chen Jinhua would go back on her word.

Han-shi looked toward the old man, hoping one last time: "Father..."

The old man took a deep drag of his pipe, exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, and made his decision: "We'll talk about A-Qing learning a trade later."

Han-shi wanted to say more but ultimately remained silent.

Thinking of the cold treatment she had received over the years, she couldn't help but feel a sense of grievance.

Chen Qing shook his head to himself.

The old man had staked the entire family’s chips on Chen Heng, hoping he would learn martial arts and revitalize the family name.

Trying to squeeze even half a copper coin out of the old man right now was nothing but a pipe dream.

He was silent for a moment, then looked up: "Grandfather, I want to learn martial arts too."

As soon as these words were spoken, the room fell silent.

Chen Wen was stunned for a moment, then sneered: "A-Qing, martial arts isn't something just anyone can learn."

Chen Jinhua also chimed in mercilessly: "Learning martial arts depends on your natural talent and bone structure! With your build and your brain... I don't mean to be harsh, but it would just be a waste of money! You’d be better off finding a steady job."

She was convinced that this nephew was dull and slow-witted, and definitely not martial arts material.

Chen Qing didn't care about their disparagement and asked, "Grandfather, can I learn alongside Xiao Heng?"

Han-shi’s heart stirred, and she quickly nodded: "That's right, just let Xiao Heng guide A-Qing a little..."

If her son could follow Chen Heng and learn martial arts, that would be a good thing.

"How could that work?"

Hearing this, Chen Heng shook his head like a rattle: "The martial arts school has rules; techniques cannot be passed on privately. Besides, I have to train hard every day to prepare for the martial arts exam; where would I find the time to teach someone?"

He was busy enough as it was; he had no time to tutor Chen Qing.

Besides, his cousin wasn't cut out for it anyway; it would just be a waste of his time.

The second aunt frowned and chimed in from the side: "Don't you dare distract Xiao Heng."

The old man’s face darkened, and he scolded: "A-Qing, you aren't suited for martial arts, so stop making trouble!"

Xiao Heng was his only hope now.

What would happen if he were delayed by Chen Qing?

"Father..."

Han-shi still wanted to say something.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

The old man suddenly began to cough violently. The second aunt patted his back and then sneered at Han-shi: "Sister-in-law, have you forgotten? Father cannot get agitated."

Chen Jinhua also glared at Han-shi and said, "Eldest sister-in-law, stop talking."

Han-shi’s face turned pale, and Chen Qing pressed down on his mother’s trembling hand.

He remembered that snowy night, when his second uncle hugged his grandfather’s legs and wailed, and his father silently shouldered his pack.

The bones of the canal laborers could build a second city wall.

"Being a fisherman on the river isn't bad either."

The old man finally waved his hand, his pipe pointing toward the dust-covered oar in the corner: "Just like your father..."

Han-shi was now completely disheartened.

Chen Qing kept his head down and said nothing; he hadn't even heard what the old man said.

He had to find a way to learn martial arts, no matter what.

That was the only way out.

The river surface shimmered with ripples.

The small boat swayed gently with the water, emitting a creaking sound.

Chen Qing sat on the deck, a bowl of rice bran porridge on the worn-out wooden table. The porridge was so thin he could see his own reflection in it, accompanied by half a piece of dusty, coarse cake.

The so-called "coarse cake" was made by taking the dregs discarded by the distillery and mixing them with rice bran before baking.

Han-shi felt a trace of guilt: "Today... I put a bit too much water in. Tomorrow, Mother will buy more reed seeds to add to it."

"It's fine thin; it lasts longer."

Chen Qing took the bowl; the edges of the rough earthenware were already chipped.

*Gurgle!*

The rice bran became drier the more he chewed, carrying the musty smell of an old granary, and the crumbs scraped his throat, causing a sharp pain.

He gulped down several mouthfuls of cold water to force it down. His stomach felt heavy, as if stuffed with hay.

This stuff didn't taste good, but fortunately, he was already used to it.

After all, in this world, having something to eat was already good enough.

According to Uncle Gao, during the famine, some people outside the city even ate grass, tree roots, and even Guanyin clay.

Guanyin clay was even more choking than rice bran, making one thirstier, but once too much water was consumed, the clay would expand, rupturing the stomach and intestines, causing a slow, suffocating death.

Chen Qing knew that in this world, if a poor person didn't have enough survival experience, they would die even more miserably.

Compared to Guanyin clay, rice bran porridge was already a delicacy.

"...Learning a trade isn't bad either," Han-shi whispered. "Not long ago, I went to the Dew Market and heard that Carpenter Li wants to take on an apprentice. I'll weave more nets during this time; let's see if I can save up some copper coins..."

Although learning a trade might mean working like a beast of burden for a lifetime, at least one could survive.

Most of the young people in Duzi Bay were like this nowadays.

"Mother, you don't have to work so hard. I'll find a way."

Chen Qing replied, but in his heart, he was already secretly calculating.

In this world, fists are the roots, and silver is the umbrella.

Even if he learned a trade, he would still be exploited.

The gangs that controlled things were ruthless; they wouldn't let you starve, but they wouldn't let you live well either.

In truth, what Chen Qing found most troublesome wasn't the incense money or the size of the catch, but the water bandits that had been rampant lately.

If he ran into them, his life would likely be forfeit.

He calculated to himself: if all else failed, he would rely on the net-weaving trade to secretly save up some capital, and then slowly plot his path to martial arts.

It was just that... he didn't know how long he would have to endure on this path.

Han-shi’s lips trembled slightly, and the porridge in the bowl rippled.

She knew Chen Qing had his own ideas, but their family's situation was truly too difficult.

"Big Aunt, A-Qing!"

Just then, a crisp voice rang out from outside the cabin door.