Chapter Ninety-Seven: Becoming a Disciple

Three months passed in the blink of an eye, and the results of the training during this period were remarkable. Zhao Yun and Yuwen Chengdu could now keep pace with Zhang Xuan and Yang Zaixing’s training routines—though, admittedly, only when Zhang Xuan wasn’t wearing his specially designed leg weights. Now, Zhang Xuan prepared to introduce these weights to Yang Zaixing, Yuwen Chengdu, and Yang Hu as well. As for Zhao Yun, he would have to wait a bit longer; seeing his youthful and delicate frame, Zhang Xuan decided it was best not to burden the future blossom just yet. Let him grow a little more before subjecting him to such rigor—after all, the lad was young, and it would be disastrous to hinder his development.

Additionally, Zhang Xuan retrieved his custom-forged blades from the smithy, a task that cost him dearly—he even resorted to borrowing “high-interest loans” from Old Man Tong. Yet, holding the blades in his hands, he felt satisfied; quality always comes at a price, and the craftsmanship was truly impeccable. Zhang Xuan also took the time to explain human anatomy to the group, demonstrating which parts of the body were lethal if struck. For this, Yang Zaixing and the others dragged him outside for a “thorough beating.”

During these three months, Zhao Yun accomplished a milestone in his life. Just as Old Man Tong had promised, as soon as Zhao Yun could keep up with Zhang Xuan and the others in training, he took Zhao Yun as his apprentice, and not just any apprentice, but his personal disciple. At the same time, Yang Zaixing also became Old Man Tong’s pupil. Zhang Xuan and Yang Hu, meanwhile, were registered as disciples in name only. Zhang Xuan had always been clear about his own role: he trained for self-defense, not for the battlefield—if the situation ever demanded, he could step forward, but he wasn’t meant for war. Yet, watching himself spar with Yang Zaixing, he realized he had acquired quite the martial bearing; he could now hold his own, not just be overwhelmed. And anyway, the treatment for registered disciples was much the same as for personal disciples, so Zhang Xuan left the coveted title for others fated to receive it.

In these three months, Old Man Tong’s son, Tong Fei, had thoroughly bonded with Zhang Xuan and his companions. Old Man Tong regretted it deeply, often muttering, “Xuan, I don’t care about the rest, but you mustn’t lead my son astray.” After all, Zhang Xuan was full of mischief, and Tong Fei was likely to learn bad habits from him. Whenever Old Man Tong repeated his warnings, Zhang Xuan would calmly assure him, “Rest easy, Old Man Tong, I would never take Fei to peek at Mrs. Wang bathing next door. I’ll guide him well so he grows strong and upright. Besides, I’m his senior—how could I possibly corrupt him? And really, am I not the paragon of honesty and kindness?” Old Man Tong could do nothing about Zhang Xuan except, occasionally, give him extra meals during lessons. Each time after finishing these meals, Zhang Xuan would “complain” about Old Man Tong in front of Yang Zaixing and the others, but they would only chuckle, knowing they didn’t have the courage to “complain” about their own master.

Another month passed, and Old Man Tong’s senior, Li Yan, returned from his travels, bringing with him a boy of about fourteen or fifteen. When Li Yan arrived, Zhang Xuan and his friends were up in the mountains hunting wild game to improve their meals—after all, Zhang Xuan possessed excellent culinary skills, and it would be wasteful not to use them. At some point, the group began regularly heading into the mountains for meat, both to aid their growth and to replenish the energy depleted by constant training. After all, one’s stamina is finite, and relentless exertion can lead to trouble; sometimes relaxation is necessary, if only to prepare for more rigorous training ahead. At first, only Zhang Xuan and Yang Zaixing went, but soon Yang Hu, Yuwen Chengdu, Zhao Yun, and Tong Fei joined in. There were even occasions when Old Man Tong, under the pretext of protecting his son and ensuring everyone’s safety, shamelessly joined them. Worse still, he only appeared once the food was cooked, claiming to be “protecting them from the shadows.” Each time, Zhang Xuan would mutter, “I’ve seen shameless people before, but never anyone quite this shameless.”

That day, when Zhang Xuan and his companions returned to the Yan family to resume training, they saw in the training courtyard a man, nearly twenty years old, stripped to the waist and wielding a halberd with impressive vigor. At the height of his performance, the onlookers would cheer and clap. The man basked in their applause and admiration, clearly enjoying the attention.

Sensing the exceptional nature of the young man in the courtyard, Zhang Xuan called over a martial trainee to ask about his origins. Yet, after questioning several people, none knew who he was. Suddenly, a name flashed through Zhang Xuan’s mind, though he recalled that person didn’t use a halberd. Still, it was worth asking—perhaps there was a chance of a “buy one, get one free” situation.

Eventually, Old Man Tong approached Zhang Xuan’s group and revealed the halberd-wielder’s background. He explained that his senior, Li Yan, had brought the boy back with him, though he did not know his name. Old Man Tong vaguely remembered his senior mentioning he had found a promising talent in Bingzhou and intended to bring him to train together, meaning he wanted to pit him against Old Man Tong’s own disciples.