Chapter Twenty-Six: Comrades of Yesteryear (Weekend Extra)

The matter of Zheng Yanqing formally acknowledging Li Ji as his teacher was not made public. According to Zheng Shian’s wishes, there should have been a formal ceremony, but Li Ji refused. The ritual was kept simple, held only within the study hall, and attended by just Zheng Shian and Dou Fengjie. They paid respect to Heaven and Earth, honored the sages, offered a cup of wine, and performed a few kowtows before hastily bringing the ceremony to an end.

Li Ji’s own words explained it best: “We are but nameless folk; to make a grand affair of this would only invite ridicule.”

Zheng Shian agreed wholeheartedly, but Yanqing sensed there was something more behind it. Thinking back to what Li Ji had said before accepting him as a student, he realized those words were not mere tests. Could it be that Li Ji had his own reasons for avoiding a public ceremony?

Nevertheless, since he had already become Li Ji’s student, Yanqing set these thoughts aside and devoted himself to his studies.

Li Ji did not go easy on Yanqing just because he was now his disciple. On the contrary, he became even more exacting in his daily instruction. Beyond their work with the Records of the Three Kingdoms, Li Ji began to teach Yanqing other forms of knowledge, no longer confining him to the Five Classics for Children and the Thousand Character Classic. He deemed it too early to introduce the Four Books and Five Classics, but Yanqing’s abilities were clearly beyond elementary learning, so Li Ji gradually began to incorporate other subjects into his teaching.

For example, filial piety, music, and some basic rituals.

Of these, Yanqing was most fascinated by the private instruction he received in the rite of archery.

Archery, as practiced in ritual, embodied the essential tenets of traditional Chinese civilization: cultivating virtue, self-correction, and the harmony of ritual and music. The saying went that if the heart was upright and the body straight, if the bow and arrows were held with composure, only then could one speak of hitting the mark. In ancient times, archery was used as a measure of a person’s character.

Li Ji placed great importance on the rite of archery and spent a considerable sum to buy Yanqing a fine bow. When he handed it to Yanqing, his expression was solemn. “Yanqing, archery is the way of man. In archery, one seeks correctness within oneself; only when one is right can one release the arrow. If you miss, do not blame those who surpass you—look within yourself and seek the cause there. Do you understand what this means?”

“I do not, teacher,” Yanqing replied honestly.

Li Ji said, “To learn archery, you must first examine yourself, then aim. If you fail to hit the target, do not make excuses—first reflect on your own shortcomings. Zengzi once said he examined himself three times daily. Learning archery is like the pursuit of knowledge itself; one must constantly reflect. Confucius said: ‘A gentleman does not contend, unless it be in archery. There, they bow and yield before ascending, and descend to drink together after. Even in competition, the gentleman remains noble.’ Yanqing, I hope you remember these words and practice self-reflection each day, striving always to improve. Never let success breed arrogance.”

Yanqing bowed low, accepting his teacher’s admonition.

And so, the days passed, one after another.

In the blink of an eye, the study hall announced a holiday. Li Ji granted Yanqing two days off, telling him there was no need to attend lectures. In his view, Yanqing was still a child, and being confined to the study hall day after day without proper relaxation would do him no good. The ancients spoke of the importance of balancing tension and relaxation, and the same applies to education.

Yanqing was pleased to rest for two days. He spent a full day at home reenacting the “Burning of Changshe” episode, and then, together with Zheng Shian, ventured into Luoyang city to visit the old soldiers at Tianjin Bridge.

Tianjin Bridge Market stretched for about a hundred meters, with most of its shops dealing in iron goods. There were dozens of smithies. In years past, when wars were frequent, many made their living forging weapons. Now, after the peace brought by the reign of Emperor Kaihuang, people yearned for stability and weapons were less in demand. The government had its own channels for distributing arms, so the neighborhood smithies now survived by making and repairing farming tools. If there had been only one or two shops, business might have been brisk, but with dozens, competition was fierce and business had grown slack.

As they walked along, Zheng Shian greeted acquaintances along the way. At the end of the street, he stopped in front of a smithy whose sign bore the large character “Xiong”—“Hero.” Yanqing knew that in these times, people often used their surname for their shop’s sign. The character “Xiong”—was that the owner’s surname? It was certainly an uncommon one.

“Big Hammer Xiong!” Zheng Shian shouted at the smithy’s entrance. “Is Big Hammer Xiong here?”

“Who’s there?”

A thunderous voice boomed from within, making their ears ring. The curtain was pulled aside, and out strode a burly man of about thirty or forty, broad-shouldered and thick-set, with skin darkened by years at the forge. His beard bristled like steel needles, his head was like a leopard’s, his eyes round and fierce—a daunting figure.

Yanqing let out a breath. “Grandfather, what a giant of a man,” he whispered.

Zheng Shian chuckled, stepped inside, and called out to the big man, “Xiong brat, in a blink you’ve grown even taller than your father was back then.”

The giant looked at Zheng Shian, confused at first, then broke into a grin.

“Uncle Zheng, you’re Uncle Zheng—I remember you, Uncle Zheng!”

He ran over, iron hammer still in hand, a fearsome sight.

“Stop right there!” Zheng Shian hastily waved him off. “You’ve grown into a mountain, put that hammer down. I’m too old for your rough greetings… Where’s your father? Is he here?”

The giant laughed and halted. “My father’s here—drinking in the back.”

“Take me to him.” Zheng Shian walked over, giving the man a friendly thump on the chest. “Goodness, your muscles are even harder than your father’s used to be. How’s the old man? Can he still eat and drink like the old days?”

“He’s doing well,” the giant replied, leading the way. Zheng Shian leaned close to Yanqing and whispered, “Big Hammer Xiong was once a fierce retainer under the Grand Commander. When the Grand Commander first raised his army, the entire Xiong family—eight in all—went to war. By the time they returned to Luoyang, only he remained. We’ve always been friends, but he’s simple and quick-tempered. Back when the old soldiers tried to stop the Grand Commander, no one dared reason with him, fearing he might do something rash. But he’s a good man. He raised all his brothers’ children himself… His real name is Xiong Wei—he’s actually a nephew. Last time I saw him, he was just a lad. Who’d have thought he’d grow so big?”

“Grandfather, the surname Xiong is unusual, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. He’s not from Luoyang, his family’s from Gong County. They fled famine here as children.”

Yanqing nodded and followed his grandfather into the backyard.

In the rear courtyard, six or seven young men were busy at the forge, making sleds and shovels. In the main hall facing the back door, an elderly man with graying beard and hair sat drinking at a table. At a glance, he seemed much older than Zheng Shian, his face deeply furrowed, skin red and purple from the heat of the forge. With his shirt off because of the sweltering fire, the scars crisscrossing his body were plain to see. Yanqing couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath.

“Big Hammer Xiong!” Zheng Shian bellowed.

The old man’s hand trembled as he looked up, then stood up with surprise and delight.

“Big Nose Zheng?”

As Zheng Shian stepped forward, he nearly stumbled at the old man’s shout. He did have a prominent nose—in the old days, when he served in the army under Master Zheng, the fierce retainers had called him “Big Nose” as a nickname. Decades had passed, and he’d almost forgotten it—yet here Big Hammer Xiong was, calling it out again.

And with Yanqing right beside him!

“Big Hammer, mind your tongue! You old devil, still alive, are you?”

“Hahaha, if you’re not dead yet, how could I be?”

The two old men looked at each other for a moment, then laughed and embraced. Though Xiong wasn’t as tall as his nephew, his frame was still formidable. Yanqing thought that in modern times, with such stature, he’d be even more impressive than that NBA giant, Shaquille O’Neal.

Comrades-in-arms reunited after many years apart.

Once Zheng Shian had collected himself, he beckoned to Yanqing. “Yanqing, come pay your respects to your Grandpa Xiong.”

“Greetings, Grandpa Xiong!” Yanqing bowed.

Big Hammer Xiong paused. “Big Nose, is this your grandson?”

“Adopted… but closer to me than any blood kin,” Zheng Shian replied with a smile.

Big Hammer nodded, approving, and patted Yanqing on the shoulder. The old man’s hand felt like solid iron—truly worthy of his nickname. Yanqing managed to bear it without flinching, but Xiong was secretly impressed.

“Big Nose, your grandson’s a better man than you ever were.”

Zheng Shian grinned triumphantly and sat at the table. Yanqing modestly took a seat a little behind, but Big Hammer Xiong scowled. “Zheng lad, why so distant? Do you look down on this old man?”

“Don’t be noisy. Yanqing is just being respectful,” Zheng Shian chided.

“Respect—bah! Here we have no such rules. It’s just like when we served the Grand Commander—free and easy.”

“I won’t argue with you.” Zheng Shian snorted, then asked, “Big Hammer, how have you been these past years?”

“Been good for nothing,” came the gruff reply.

Big Hammer Xiong cursed. “Stuck in this godforsaken place—I’m suffocating. Why has the world gone so quiet? A few years back, with wars raging, business was decent. Now, with peace, all I do is eat and drink.”

Yanqing, unable to join the conversation, glanced around. Suddenly, his gaze fixed on a figure crouched at the doorway—a half-grown boy, hair a wild mess, bare-chested, clutching a large bowl, devouring his meal wolfishly.

“That’s my grandnephew,” Big Hammer Xiong explained when he saw Yanqing looking. He sighed, his voice heavy. “He’s Old Six’s grandson. Old Six died in battle at Liyang… The girl in his family bore a bastard, then died giving birth. The boy’s got a hard life—managed to survive somehow. But his wits are slow, even though he eats more than Xiong Wei. Still, he’s family, so I keep him here. When business was good, it was fine, but now, as he grows and eats more, I wonder how long I can keep going… Big Nose, if you’ve any good ideas, please look out for your old friend.”

Zheng Shian smiled wryly. “I’d like to help, but I can barely look after myself these days.”

“How so?”

Zheng Shian explained his own troubles and finished, “Big Hammer, I came today to see how the old brothers are faring. If you have any hardship, tell me now, while I can still help. While the old master is here, things are manageable. If he’s gone… Well, the old master has looked after me all my life, and I don’t want to trouble him further. Here’s what I’ll do, Big Hammer—I’ll write to the old master and explain things clearly. If nothing can be done, you could go to Xingyang?”

“I won’t!” Big Hammer’s face darkened. “I’m not so far gone as to live on someone else’s charity. But Big Nose, that eldest son of the family is no good—letting a woman run things, shaming the Grand Commander’s name. I’ve thought about it: if things get desperate, I’ll take the children home. If that fails, we’ll go to Taiyuan.”

Taiyuan belonged to Bing Province, where Turkic raiders often crossed the border.

It seemed Big Hammer Xiong had also heard rumors and was considering making a living in Taiyuan. After all, a smith could always find work there.

But Zheng Shian tried to dissuade him. “Big Hammer, listen to me—don’t go to Taiyuan.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not safe. You might scratch out a living, but you could lose your life.”

Yes, for Taiyuan was under the rule of Prince Yang Liang…

Zheng Shian couldn’t explain openly, so he gave only a vague warning. “Big Hammer, don’t rush. If you’re short of money, tell your old brother. While I’m still in Luoyang, I’ll try to find a way. If I can’t, then make your decision—I won’t stop you.”

“Well, if you put it like that, Big Nose, I’ll listen to you.”

At that moment, Yanqing walked over to the big lad crouching at the door. Though half-squatting, the boy was nearly as tall as Yanqing standing. Muscles bulged beneath his skin, strength clear to see. He ignored Yanqing, gobbling his food.

“What’s your name?” Yanqing suddenly asked.

The big boy looked up, his voice a rumble. “Who are you, and why should I tell you?”

“Big fella, I’m Zheng Yanqing.”

“Hmm. I’m Xiong Dahai.”

The boy replied gruffly, then returned to his meal, ignoring Yanqing’s outstretched hand.

Big Hammer Xiong interjected, “Don’t mind him, lad. Blackie’s like that with everyone—don’t take it personally.”

—Extra chapter for the weekend, please support!