Seventy

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Wang Bo looked at Wang Feng and said, “This isn’t right, Brother Feng. How could I trouble you? Anything simple is fine.”

Wang Feng chuckled, “It’s no trouble. It’s a small thing. You go home first—I’ll be back soon.” With that, he turned and went inside, fetched a bow and arrows, and headed out.

In truth, Wang Bo hoped Wang Feng would bring back something. The food at the end of the Han was indeed poor, especially for farming families; it was already fortunate to have enough to eat each day, let alone meat. Since Wang Feng arrived here, he’d only had a bit of meat that first evening. Thinking there might be meat today, Wang Bo’s mouth watered uncontrollably.

“Heaven, please let Brother Feng catch something,” Wang Bo prayed, gazing upward, though he didn’t know if the heavens heard him, or would grant his wish.

“I’d better go home first; standing here drooling won’t help. I’ll tell Mother,” Wang Bo shook his head and left Wang Feng’s house.

When he got home, he saw Madam Li carrying water into the house, so he hurried over to take the bucket from her.

“Mother, let me,” he said, taking the bucket and heading inside. But Wang Bo forgot he was still wearing sandbags, so after only a few steps, his face was flushed, and he had to stop.

Seeing his red face and sweat-soaked brow, Madam Li felt both pride and tenderness. “Enough, let me do it. You’ve just finished exercising, it’s normal to be tired.” She took the bucket from him and carried it inside.

Watching her, Wang Bo could only shake his head helplessly. Looking at his thin arms, he sighed, “I can’t even lift a chicken—less strength than my mother.”

Madam Li put the water down and came out.

“Why are you back so early today?” she asked, wiping her hands.

“I went to the village chief’s house to study,” Wang Bo replied truthfully.

“Oh?” Madam Li looked at her son in surprise, then asked, “Why did you go there? Weren’t you training with Ah Feng?”

A hint of worry creased her brow; while studying wasn’t physically taxing, she feared Wang Bo wouldn’t stick with anything, always losing interest after a few days.

Seeing his mother’s concern, Wang Bo quickly explained, “Mother, I thought carefully about my health. Practicing martial arts isn’t suitable for me, and I probably won’t be able to farm in the future either. After much consideration, I decided that since I can’t succeed in martial arts, I should pursue scholarship. The village might not offer much, but I could move to the city someday. So I asked Brother Feng to help find someone to teach me, hoping to make something of myself in the future. The village chief saw my talent and took me on as a student, teaching me to read and write. Don’t worry, I won’t give up halfway—I’ll persevere. I’ll still keep up with Brother Feng’s training, and the teacher has agreed. I’ll go to him early for lessons, then after lunch, I’ll go train with Brother Feng.”

Madam Li nodded, moved by his words. “The child has grown up, and has his own ideas.” But seeing Wang Bo’s frail body, she couldn’t help but say, “But son, can you handle it? Before, you were exhausted just from training; now you have to study as well.” She gently touched his head, her heart aching, eyes shimmering with tears.

Seeing his mother like this, Wang Bo hurried to comfort her. “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ve grown up, and I’ll manage things wisely.”

“If you’ve decided, then I’ll support you,” Madam Li nodded.

As her mood settled, Wang Bo said, “Mother, there’s one more thing. Brother Feng invited me to dinner today, and I’ve agreed, so…”

“If you’ve promised Ah Feng, then you must go. One mustn’t break one’s word,” Madam Li said, smiling as she withdrew her hand from his head.

“Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll study hard, become successful, and take good care of you and Father,” Wang Bo said firmly.

Suddenly, Madam Li felt her son’s figure had grown tall—a child finally grown up. Tears filled her eyes again.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” Wang Bo noticed and asked anxiously.

She wiped her tears with her sleeve. “It’s nothing, I’m just moved. My son has finally grown up.”

Suddenly, Duo’er bounced out from the house, rushed to Wang Bo, grabbed his sleeve, and began to pout, “Brother, brother, are you here to play with me? Duo’er has been waiting so long!”

Wang Bo smiled helplessly, stroked her head, and said, “I have something to do now. I’ll be back this afternoon to play with you.”

“No, no! I want you to play with me now, you promised!” Duo’er clung to his sleeve, refusing to let go.

“Enough, Duo’er, don’t trouble your brother,” Madam Li said suddenly, just as Wang Bo was at a loss. Her words worked wonders; though Duo’er was reluctant, she released his sleeve with a dissatisfied look.

“Alright, Duo’er, I’ll be back early this afternoon to play with you,” Wang Bo said, pinching her cheek.

“Promise, then! Let’s pinky swear!” She extended her tiny hand.

Wang Bo had no choice but to pinky swear with her.

“Mother, if there’s nothing else, I’ll go now,” Wang Bo glanced at the time and saw it was getting late.

“Go ahead, son,” Madam Li nodded.

“Brother, remember to come back early to play with me!” Duo’er reminded him as he left.

Not long after Wang Bo left, Wang Hu returned from the fields. Not seeing Wang Bo, he asked, “Has Bo’er not come back yet?”

“He did, but Ah Feng invited him to dinner, so he went out again,” Madam Li called from inside.

“By the way, Bo’er said the village chief saw his talent and wants him to study with him. What do you think?” she asked suddenly.

Wang Hu paused, then laughed, “That’s great! Everyone knows the chief is learned. If Xiao Bo studies with him, maybe he’ll become a village chief himself. It’s a good thing.”

“As long as you agree, I’m relieved,” Madam Li sighed, touching her chest, fearing Wang Hu might object.

Wang Hu grumbled, “Am I that kind of person?”

Leaving home, Wang Bo headed straight for Wang Feng’s house. The door was as he’d left it, showing Wang Feng hadn’t returned. Wang Bo entered, found a clean spot in the courtyard, and sat cross-legged to wait.

He looked up at the sky and muttered, “It’s getting late. Why isn’t Brother Feng back? Could something have happened? That’s unlikely—he was an elite in the army, surely skilled enough. Ordinary wild beasts shouldn’t trouble him. Maybe he hasn’t caught anything… I was hoping for meat tonight.”

Just then, Wang Feng entered, bow and arrows slung over his shoulder, carrying some game—wild pheasants and what looked like a rabbit. Seeing Wang Bo in the courtyard, he said, “Little Bo, you’ve waited long, haven’t you? I’ll handle the game now—tonight you’ll have your meat.”

Hearing Wang Feng’s voice, Wang Bo quickly stood up. Seeing what Wang Feng carried, he greeted him cheerfully, “Not at all, Brother Feng, I just arrived. I haven’t waited long. But why are you so late? I worried something happened to you. If you’d gotten hurt because of me, I’d feel terrible.”

Wang Feng felt warmed by Wang Bo’s concern. Having another younger brother by his side seemed a good thing. Smiling, he said, “Your brother is skilled—there’s nothing to worry about in the woods, no fierce beasts. Knowing you’re filial, I hunted extra, so it took longer. Sorry to make you worry.” He set down the game, handed his bow to Wang Bo. “Little Bo, take the bow inside. I’ll handle the game, and later you can take some home for your parents.”

Wang Bo took the bow, protesting, “I can’t, Brother Feng. You worked so hard—keep it for yourself.”

Wang Feng glared at him, “This little bit is nothing—I can hunt more anytime. Besides, you’re Xiao Yun’s brother, so you’re my brother; your mother is my mother too. What’s wrong with a son honoring his mother? Are you still treating me as a stranger? If you don’t accept it, you don’t acknowledge me as your elder brother.”

Understanding Wang Feng wouldn’t change his mind, Wang Bo reluctantly agreed, “Alright, Brother Feng, I’ll accept it. I thank you on behalf of my parents—please don’t be angry. I just…”

Wang Feng patted his shoulder earnestly, “Enough, we’re family—no need for formalities. If you keep acting distant, you don’t regard me as your elder brother. Take the bow inside, then come help me with the game.”

“Alright,” Wang Bo nodded, turned and went inside with the bow.

He set the bow on the long table, then came out again. Outside, Wang Feng was plucking the pheasants, and Wang Bo approached.

“Little Bo, how do you want it—roasted or boiled?” Wang Feng asked.

“Let me think,” Wang Bo pressed his right hand to his chin, left hand supporting his elbow, and pondered. Roast or boiled? Boiled meat tastes bland… Roasting needs charcoal, and for beggar’s chicken, there’s no lotus leaf. Eating meat in the late Han was indeed a conundrum.

Wang Feng’s expression grew serious, then he laughed, “Little Bo, you’ve only studied a morning, but you’ve mastered the scholarly pose. Who knows how much knowledge you’ve gained, but your appearance is spot on.”

Wang Bo was startled—he hadn’t realized he’d adopted that pose. He didn’t recall having such a habit before, but now it felt natural, and he thought it made him look quite clever, especially with his delicate features—like a strategist. Shamelessly, he struck another pose.

“But Little Bo, after just one morning of study, you’ve become so indecisive—even choosing how to eat takes forever,” Wang Feng complained.

“Let’s roast it then,” Wang Bo replied, urged by Wang Feng.

“Good. Go get some wood by the wall and start a fire. I’ll prepare the game,” Wang Feng said, taking the plucked pheasant to clean its innards, while Wang Bo fetched firewood.

“Phew, this should be enough,” Wang Bo wiped his brow, looking at the wood. “But… how do I start a fire? Should I use friction?” He stared at the wood, troubled. “Well, so be it. I’m clever enough—starting a fire can’t defeat me.” He crouched, found a small branch, and began trying to make fire by rubbing sticks.

Wang Feng returned with the prepared game, saw Wang Bo squatting and fiddling. “Little Bo, what are you doing? I told you to start a fire, not to mess around.”

Wang Bo looked up, grinning sheepishly, “I’m starting a fire, Brother Feng, just as you said.”

Wang Feng stared at him, exasperated. “Is this how you start a fire? Who taught you that? We have flint, you know!”

“Flint?” Wang Bo was dumbstruck.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never started a fire—don’t even know about flint?” Wang Feng asked, eyeing Wang Bo as if he were some odd creature.

“I—I know, but I didn’t find any flint, so…” Wang Bo’s voice grew weaker, his head lower, until he fell silent.

“Didn’t find any?” Wang Feng’s doubts only deepened. His instincts told him Wang Bo was hiding something, but he didn’t press. Instead, he handed Wang Bo the cleaned game, “I’ll go look for it. Hold this.”

Wang Bo took it nervously, feeling Wang Feng’s suspicions. As Wang Feng went inside, Wang Bo let out a long sigh. What to do? He sensed Wang Feng was onto something, but wondered why he hadn’t confronted him.

After a while, Wang Feng came out with flint, gave Wang Bo a look, said nothing, and started the fire.

The atmosphere suddenly grew tense, making it hard for Wang Bo to breathe. “Brother Feng, I…” He wanted to explain, but didn’t know how. Even if he told the truth, would Wang Feng believe him? Or would he be seen as a monster?

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