I wish to become an apprentice and learn the craft.

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The first month had just passed, yet already the southern lands were brimming with the vitality of spring. Spring always arrived early in the south—a fact Li Xi was not unaware of, but one he had neglected for lack of personal experience. Unfamiliar with the local seasons, Li Xi’s plan to drill the militia in March had to be moved forward to February. By March, the local soldiers would all be busy working their fields; who would care about military training then?

Though the position of Militia Adjudicator was not high, with Chang Huai-de’s special authorization, Li Xi’s word now carried absolute authority in the militia bureau. Zhu Kerong’s transfer was swiftly issued; with Qi Cheng’s support in Wengyuan, the handover proceeded smoothly. In the end, the county office even held a grand farewell banquet for Zhu Kerong, during which all lingering grievances were drowned with a single toast.

The Zhu family was of modest means, yet Han Shi still spent two full days packing. If Zhu Kerong hadn’t stopped her, she would have even taken along the newly purchased millstone. Looking at the courtyard full of packages, Zhu Kerong was both amused and exasperated. The road from Wengyuan to Shaozhou was all mountain paths—how could they possibly carry so much? Seizing a moment when Han Shi wasn’t watching, Zhu Kerong began his campaign of simplification: first, he got rid of the cupboard and bed, then the water jar and wine urn, and finally, he lugged the heavy pots and dishes out to give away.

Unfortunately, Han Shi caught him midway. Flustered, Zhu Kerong lost his grip and the bundle dropped to the ground, sending dishes crashing to pieces. Han Shi wept in distress and, uncharacteristically, pounded Zhu Kerong’s broad chest with her small fists. He stood firm as a tower, letting her vent, and when she was done, laughed heartily. “We’ll buy all these things anew in Shaozhou. If we bring them along, Zhou Wan and the others will be exhausted to death. From today on, dear wife, you needn’t worry about the daily grind of oil, salt, soy sauce, or tea. I’ll see to it that you live the life of a proper lady.”

Wiping away her tears, Han Shi managed a smile through her sobs. “If it were only for food and drink, I’d rather endure hardship with you by my side.”

Zhu Kerong drew her into his arms, his voice thick with emotion. “After our defeat in Youzhou, I did wallow in despair for a time. But now I’ve come to understand—life is nothing but a series of obstacles. If you can’t get past one, you can pause and rest, but when you’ve regained your strength, you must push forward. No matter how bitter or exhausting, you grit your teeth and bear it—not just for yourself, but for those you love. We used to mock men like Yang the Invincible, calling him petty and self-serving, caring only for his little family. But is he wrong? Not at all. If a man cannot care for his own wife, what sort of man is he? He’s not even as good as Yang.”

Han Shi looked up at her husband’s square and resolute face. Some words weighed on her heart—she wanted to speak, but hesitated. In the end, after much inner struggle, she said quietly, “I don’t think Yang the Invincible’s intentions are pure in inviting you to Shaozhou. That man is full of schemes; you must be on your guard.”

Zhu Kerong replied, “I know. I can see he’s got a bit of an eye for you.”

Flustered at having her secret suspicion laid bare, Han Shi blushed fiercely, overwhelmed with embarrassment. Zhu Kerong gripped her round shoulders with his large hands. “He may have the heart of a thief—it’s certainly there, and not a small one, either. As for the courage, well, perhaps a little, but so long as I’m here, he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you.”

Han Shi had more to say, but swallowed the words, simply burrowing deeper into Zhu Kerong’s solid embrace. His broad chest made her feel safe. He was right—with him here, what was there to fear?

To welcome Zhu Kerong’s arrival, Li Xi had been run ragged these past two days. The first big task was to drive the local soldiers from their homes into the barracks. In peacetime, they were civilians who trained at leisure and assembled only in emergencies. Herding three hundred men from their warm beds into the camp was no easy feat. The entire city of Shaozhou and its six counties were in chaos—after a headcount, they barely reached two hundred. The rest claimed to be off visiting relatives. Furious, Li Xi and his men went out at midnight with ropes, catching and tying up those found at home, then summoning the clan elders, village headmen, and rural seniors the next day to shame them. He would ask how their militiamen could be visiting relatives when they were found sleeping at home in the middle of the night.

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This method worked without fail—the clan elders, rural seniors, and headmen, having experienced Adjudicator Yang’s cunning, became vigilant. After another round of frantic efforts, all three hundred militiamen were driven into camp.

With the soldiers assembled, the second task was to repair the barracks. The Shaozhou militia hadn’t undergone proper collective training in years; the barracks in the north of the city had walls collapsing, roofs leaking, and weeds running wild.

With no proper shelter, the three hundred men could only live in makeshift huts. Before Zhu Kerong arrived, their main duties were cutting grass, clearing weeds, rebuilding walls, repairing roofs, and cleaning silt from the surrounding moat. It was called dredging, but in reality, they were digging a new ditch, as the old one had long since filled in. The only way to find its course was by locating the thornbushes planted years ago to reinforce the banks.

The work was arduous, but not without its amusements. The mud was teeming with loaches and eels; for half a month, the three hundred men feasted on river delicacies until they were sick of the sight, unable to look at anything resembling a loach without nausea.

Li Xi’s third task was to find Zhu Kerong a residence. With just Zhu and his wife and little spare money, it ought to have been simple. But Li Xi had his own motives: he wanted a place close to his current home and near his future one, so he could conveniently visit his “Brother Zhu” whenever he liked.

His efforts paid off. The location was found—a quiet, secluded spot in a fishing village by the river outside the city. The yard was spacious, but the buildings were shabby. That was no obstacle for Yang the Invincible; he summoned a few militiamen who were former masons and, after some busy days, set things right.

Gazing at the freshly renovated house, the brand-new furniture, and the small back gate he’d specially left, Li Xi smiled with satisfaction.

Zhu Kerong was also pleased. Grateful for Li Xi’s hospitality, he accepted the keys to his new home and asked Han Shi to prepare a banquet for Li Xi. With fine wine, fragrant food, and a beautiful hostess, Li Xi was soon drunk—and the more he looked at Han Shi, the more attractive she seemed.

He staggered home that night, dead drunk. Lying limp on his bed, he babbled endlessly, hardly a sentence passing without mentioning Han Shi. Fortunately, Mu Yaxin couldn’t understand a word he said—otherwise, one heart would have been wounded and one body hurt.

In the morning, Li Xi awoke to find Mu Yaxin lying beside him, fully clothed and sleeping soundly. Realizing she’d watched over him all night, he was filled with gratitude and remorse. He quickly checked himself for injuries and, finding none, breathed a long sigh of relief. He knew all too well his drunken self—he’d been “taught” about it more than once.

If his unguarded mouth had uttered something it shouldn’t, it would have been no small matter to wound the Mu family. Mu Yaxin might not have been so headstrong as to hang or drown herself, but if she ever learned that he still harbored feelings for another man’s wife, it would be no laughing matter. Resentment would accumulate until it destroyed either her or himself—neither outcome was what he wanted.

Had he truly changed and said nothing, or had he simply been too drunk to speak? Sitting by the bed, Li Xi puzzled over it, unable to make sense of what had happened. Suddenly, Mu Yaxin woke, her eyes red and weary. She asked weakly, “You’re awake? Were you possessed last night? You kept babbling nonsense—I couldn’t understand a word!”

So that was it!

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Li Xi silently rejoiced. The promotion of the standard language truly was a blessing for the nation.

Watching Mu Yaxin yawn, Li Xi said gently, “You’ve worked hard, virtuous wife—you’re a model for all women. Please accept a kiss from me. Now rest, I have things to do.”

He scooped her up and laid her back on the bed, covering her with a quilt. Thinking it over, he pulled back the covers and removed her outer garments, then left, reassured.

The courtyard was still and quiet. In the Yang household, no one rose before the sun touched their backsides. They believed early risers invited misfortune, that evil spirits were about in the mornings, and nothing good came of getting up too soon. Li Xi suspected the real reason was Old Madam Yang’s habit of late nights and late mornings.

Of course, that was just his view. In reality, the reason no one in the Yang household rose early had a great deal to do with him. With the master of the house up past midnight, always calling for this or that, how could the maids sleep? Everyone ended up going to bed after the third watch—who could endure early mornings after such late nights?

He took a few deep breaths, stretched his limbs, and intended to tease Cui Yingying a bit. But the young woman’s doors were tightly shut, guarded against any intruder—there was no way in, so he gave up. In the opposite wing, the two beauties were still fast asleep, faint snores drifting out. Waking them would only cause a terrible commotion, which Li Xi had no patience for.

He drew water from the well, washed his face, rinsed his mouth, fixed his hair, and changed into fresh clothes. Then he strolled out the door, heading for Zhu Kerong’s new house. He wasn’t quite sure why—perhaps just to pay a neighborly visit.

To ingratiate himself with Black Tiger, he took a piece of cooked meat from the kitchen, planning to offer it with a smile if the dog so much as bared its teeth. He found it odd to be currying favor with a dog over a simple visit. Surely, even if the master didn’t lay on a lavish welcome, the least he could do was keep his dog under control—unless, of course, the visitor came with ulterior motives, like sneaking in to chat with the lady of the house while her husband slept, or engaging in some other form of intimacy.

The Zhus’ wooden gate was ajar. According to local custom, the first thing people did at dawn was open their gates to welcome fortune—something Li Xi had never paid attention to before, but now knew well.

He coughed twice at the entrance, expecting Black Tiger’s furious barking, but none came. Perhaps the beast too had grown accustomed to late mornings?

It was still early. The Zhu family’s thatched house stood shrouded in a light morning mist, peaceful and serene. From behind the half-open gate came the distant sounds of breathing exercises.

Li Xi’s heart sank—he hadn’t expected the master to rise so early. Wasn’t it a bit much to be practicing martial arts before dawn? He considered turning back; since the host was up, was he really just going to deliver meat to Black Tiger?

On second thought, he changed his mind. Since he was here, he would play it by ear. If Zhu Kerong was practicing in the yard, surely he could at least go to the kitchen for a cup of water, perhaps chat with Madam Han by the stove. Surely she wouldn’t be lazing in bed like those at his own house. If her goddess-like image was thus ruined, at least the house would be quiet.