Chapter Thirty-Six: The Attendant

Old Master Tong looked at Zhao Yun and said, “Zhao Yun, you can stand up now. If it’s really as Xiao Xuan said and you end up kneeling yourself into an illness, that would be terrible. Let me ask you a few questions, all right?” Zhao Yun nodded and stood up.

“How old are you?”

“I’m eleven.”

“What about your family?”

“My father left when I was very young. As for my mother, she went away with him, and neither of them ever came back. Honestly, I don’t remember much about them. I’ve always lived with my uncle. I’ve asked him about my parents, but he never told me much—just that when the time comes, I’ll find out. Last year, my uncle went north. I don’t know where he went and he didn’t return until recently. While living with him, I sometimes chopped firewood to sell in town or took odd jobs at various inns or other places. Especially after my uncle went north, I’ve just been working in the village and town.”

“Have you ever learned martial arts before?”

“My uncle taught me a few moves, and later I picked up a few more from guests at the inn. Mostly, I’ve been practicing on my own, so I hope…”

“One last question: Why do you want to learn martial arts?” As Old Master Tong asked the final question, Zhang Xuan felt as if he’d been transported back to the talent shows he’d watched—like The Voice of China or China’s Got Talent—where the mentors would always ask, “What is your dream?” And the answer would be, “My dream is…”

Zhao Yun lowered his head and thought for a while. Old Master Tong didn’t disturb him, just watched quietly. Uncle Yang and Yang Zaixing were also watching Zhao Yun with interest, and even Yang Hu looked over. Only Zhang Xuan was still lost in his memories of variety shows, reminiscing until he suddenly covered his head and gave a heavy sigh.

“My dream? Is it to ride into battle, defend my home and country, and achieve great things? Or just to find my family and live together in harmony? Or is it simply to survive and carve out a place for myself in this world…?” Zhao Yun was lost in thought about his true motivations.

As silence fell, Zhang Xuan snapped out of his reverie and looked at Zhao Yun like the others—not because he was curious about Zhao Yun’s dream, but because not looking would make him seem out of place, even if no one was paying him much attention.

Finally, Zhao Yun looked up at Old Master Tong and said, “I want to follow you, sir, and learn martial arts well. In the future, I hope to make myself useful…”

Before Zhao Yun could finish, Zhang Xuan burst into laughter. All eyes turned to him. Feeling their gaze and his cheeks burning, Zhang Xuan sheepishly waved his hand and nodded, apologizing before lowering his head. Seeing Zhang Xuan’s embarrassed state, the others couldn’t help but laugh as well, letting the matter drop.

Zhao Yun, having thought long and hard about his dream, was about to continue, but Old Master Tong waved his hand, signaling that it wasn’t necessary. He said to Zhao Yun, “Zhao Yun.”

“Yes, sir!” Zhao Yun straightened up and looked Old Master Tong in the eye.

“If you want to follow us, then do so for now. Who knows, after some time, you might change your mind, or perhaps you’ll meet a better teacher to apprentice yourself to.” Hearing this, Zhao Yun shook his head vigorously, as if to say such a thing could never happen.

“Don’t shake your head just yet. Anything is possible. If you want to follow, then follow. Who knows, maybe on a whim I’ll decide to take you as my disciple!” As Old Master Tong spoke, his gaze turned reflective. Uncle Yang and Zhang Xuan exchanged a glance, and Zhang Xuan pointed at Old Master Tong, as if to ask: Has Old Master Tong encountered someone like this before?

“All right, don’t let your imaginations run wild. It’s all in the past. Curious, are you? I’ll tell you briefly. I used to travel a lot, and once, after showing some martial arts, someone wanted to follow me and learn. I was considering taking him as a disciple, but I wanted to test him first. Later, he met a somewhat famous wandering swordsman and wanted to become his apprentice instead. He told me about it, and since he’d found a good opportunity, I couldn’t stop him. After he spoke to me, he left with the swordsman, and I never saw him again.” Old Master Tong related the story as if it had nothing to do with him, though a trace of sadness lingered in his eyes.

Listening to the story, Zhang Xuan stepped in front of Old Master Tong. “Don’t worry, Old Master Tong. Zhao Yun isn’t that kind of person. You can take him in without worry—I guarantee it with my own character.”

“Xiao Xuanzi, I don’t mean to discourage you, but do you even have a character to guarantee? Or is your character worth anything? Honestly, your skin is getting thicker by the day.”

“Old Master Tong, if you say things like that, we might not even be friends anymore. What if I find a wandering swordsman I like and leave you? Wouldn’t that be a huge loss for you? I’m a martial arts prodigy with so much potential. If you teach me a few of your best techniques now, I’d definitely stay by your side—no matter what. But let me ask you: Did the person who left know you were the famous Tong Yuan? If he’d known, surely he wouldn’t have left you for someone else.”

“No, he didn’t know. I never told him, and as far as I remember, he never asked.” Zhang Xuan nodded knowingly at this answer. Old Master Tong looked at Zhang Xuan, then at Zhao Yun. As he was watching Zhang Xuan, Zhang Xuan crossed his arms and said, “Old Master Tong, I can’t help but feel there’s something wicked in your gaze. Please don’t look at me like that—I’m perfectly straight.”

Old Master Tong smacked Zhang Xuan on the head. “What nonsense are you thinking about now? It’s been days since I gave you a good beating, hasn’t it? Or have you fully recovered and are ready to get back on the road?” Clutching his head, Zhang Xuan backed away—Old Master Tong was not someone to be trifled with.

After “disciplining” Zhang Xuan, Old Master Tong pointed at him and turned to Zhao Yun. “Zhao Yun, just follow Xiao Xuanzi for now. As for taking you as a disciple, as I said, maybe if I’m in the mood, I’ll do it. But remember this: don’t fall behind. If you can’t even keep up with Xiao Xuanzi, then that whim of mine will never come—not in a million years.”

Hearing this, Zhang Xuan felt as if he’d just gained another follower—a heavyweight one at that. The satisfaction was palpable. He went over to Zhao Yun, helped him up, and said, “Let’s get along well from now on—oops, wrong line—what I mean is, let’s work together in the days ahead. When I’m mostly recovered, don’t fall behind! I hope you stick around long enough for Old Master Tong to take you as his disciple. Ha ha.” Yang Zaixing and Yang Hu also came over to greet Zhao Yun and introduce themselves—after all, there would be plenty of time to get acquainted in the days to come.