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In the arena, three figures were leaping and bounding, their punches whistling through the air.

In the center was a boy, about seventeen or eighteen years old, with a height approaching that of an adult, tall and straight like a pine tree. He was Zhao Wenjie's eldest son, Zhao Huaiyuan.

Dressed in a tight-fitting, narrow-sleeved indigo outfit with a belt around his waist, and with a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, he was practicing a set of "Breaking Formation Fist," a common military martial art. The style was simple yet powerful, straightforward and direct, emphasizing swift power and steady footwork. Zhao Huaiyuan had clearly practiced diligently; each move was precise and controlled, his punches and kicks carrying a gust of wind, already showing signs of considerable skill.

On the left is a young girl, about fifteen or sixteen years old, wearing a light lotus-colored belted martial arts uniform. Her long hair is tied into a neat single bun and secured with a wooden hairpin. This is the eldest daughter, Zhao Qinghe. She is practicing a set of movements that are more agile and swift, called "Willow Hands Through Flowers".

This was an extra martial arts manual for women that Zhao Wenjie received as a reward after making meritorious contributions, in addition to the manual of "Zixia Divine Skill". She moved with agility, her arms flitting like butterflies among flowers, her fingers and palms flashing with skillful force. Although her strength was not as great as her brother's, her superior technique lay in her exquisite variations and unpredictable footwork.

The youngest on the right was a boy of about twelve or thirteen, Zhao Wenjie's second son, Zhao Huaijin. He also practiced basic long fist, but compared to his brother, he seemed much more rusty, and his breathing was somewhat unsteady. Sweat poured down his forehead, but he gritted his teeth and persevered, refusing to stop.

Zhao Wenjie stood with his hands behind his back under the eaves of the training ground, watching quietly. He was thirty-eight years old, the prime of his life as both a martial artist and an official, possessing both energy and experience. Over seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and a thick back, his long military and official career hadn't made him overweight; instead, it had made him appear even more lean and capable. His face was square, his skin a bronze hue honed by the harsh winds of the north, and he sported a short, neatly trimmed beard. His eyes, though not large, were piercing and sharp, scanning his children's movements with the keenness of an eagle.

He wasn't wearing his official robes at the moment, only a slightly worn dark blue cotton robe and cloth shoes with multiple layers of soles. Standing there, he possessed a dignified and imposing presence, exuding an aura of authority without anger. This aura stemmed from his status as a seventh-rank military officer, but also from the subtle yet profound sense of composure that came from the flow of internal energy after mastering the "Purple Cloud Divine Skill."

Zhao Wenjie joined the army at the age of sixteen and fought on the border for twelve years, rising through the ranks from a common soldier to a captain. In the thirteenth year of the Dingding era, he distinguished himself in a battle to wipe out a stubborn Jurchen tribe, beheading three and rescuing his wounded comrades. He was promoted to the seventh-rank Zhaowu Captain and transferred to Ancheng County as a county magistrate. At the same time, he was rewarded with the option to choose a medium-level internal martial arts technique. He chose the "Zixia Divine Skill," known for its balanced and long-lasting power. He practiced diligently for seven years without interruption. Although he was far from mastering it, his internal energy had already reached a considerable level. He had sharp hearing and eyesight, great strength, and was impervious to heat and cold. Among the county officials in this civilized region, his martial arts skills were considered outstanding.

"Huaiyuan, the fist comes first, and the qi follows the intention! Your third move, 'Piercing Punch,' was too stiff, and your waist and hips weren't coordinated. Try again!"

Zhao Wenjie suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable authority.

Zhao Huaiyuan paused, took a deep breath, and resumed his stance. He exhaled and slowly threw a punch. This time, he twisted his waist slightly, and the power rose from the ground, passing through his waist and hips to his shoulders and arms. Sure enough, the punch felt more solid.

"Qinghe, in the 'Willow Sway' move, the strength in your fingertips should be contained and not revealed. You are too focused on speed, and the strength is scattered. Remember, the key to this technique is 'a needle hidden in cotton'."

Zhao Qinghe blushed slightly and slowed down as instructed. With the strength contained in her fingertips, her moves became even more fluid and unpredictable.

“Huaijin, a weak foundation will cause everything to crumble. Your lower body is unstable and your breathing is disordered. You will need to practice horse stance for an extra half hour today.” Zhao Wenjie’s tone became sterner towards his youngest son.

Zhao Huaijin's face fell, but he dared not refute, and replied in a muffled voice, "Yes, Father."

Watching his children resume their practice, Zhao Wenjie's gaze was profound. He came from an ordinary military household in Guanzhong; his father was merely a veteran of the border army. His rise to his current position was entirely due to his bravery on the battlefield and the relatively fair military merit-based promotion system of the imperial court. His loyalty to the court and Emperor Hua was beyond question. He also placed this loyalty and his hopes for advancement on his children.

In the empire, especially in these civilized areas where military force is needed for pacification, martial arts skills are the foundation of one's livelihood and a stepping stone to advancement. The imperial court encourages the sons of officials to learn martial arts, and both county and prefectural schools have martial arts departments. His eldest son, Huaiyuan, has above-average martial arts aptitude, and more importantly, he has a calm and resolute character, making him excellent material for a military career. Zhao Wenjie plans to send him to take the entrance exam for the "Military Academy" in Youzhou Prefecture next year. If he can pass the exam, his starting point for joining the army will be much higher, and he may even have the opportunity to learn more advanced martial arts.

His eldest daughter, Qinghe, possessed even better aptitude than her two younger brothers, particularly suited to practicing the delicate and agile style of martial arts, and also exhibited high comprehension. This brought him both joy and worry. He was pleased that his daughter had such talent, and in an era where women could also serve as officials (often in clerical, medical, or supervisory roles), and even receive rewards for their martial arts and military achievements, she might very well achieve something great. However, he was worried because women's military service and martial arts training were ultimately more difficult than men's, and as a father, he inevitably had more concerns. He had already inquired about whether there were more refined martial arts techniques suitable for women to learn, or whether they could eventually enter the "Inner Academy," a special academy for the children of nobles and meritorious officials.

As for his second son, Huaijin, he was still young and seemed to have mediocre talent, but Zhao Wenjie wasn't in a hurry. Even if he didn't excel in martial arts, he could study and understand principles, and in the future, he could take the civil service exam or learn a trade to live a stable life, which would be quite good. The court was in dire need of all kinds of talent, so there would always be a way out.

As the sun gradually set, it bathed the courtyard in a warm golden light. Zhao Wenjie checked the time, clapped his hands, and said, "Alright, that's enough for today. Wash up and get ready for dinner."

The children were overjoyed, especially Zhao Huaijin, who was in a horse stance and almost collapsed to the ground, only to be pulled up by her sister with a laugh. After bowing, the three of them ran chatteringly towards the well in the backyard.

Zhao Wenjie strolled back to the main room with his hands behind his back. His wife, Zhou, was directing two maids to set the table. Zhou was the same age as him, the younger sister of a comrade-in-arms from their days in the army. She was literate, gentle, and virtuous. She had followed him from the army to civilian life, enduring much hardship, but now they had finally settled down. She wore a slightly worn lotus-colored ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), with a dark blue vest over it. Her hair was neatly combed. Although she had given birth to seven children and managed the household, fine lines had appeared at the corners of her eyes, but her complexion was rosy and her eyes were peaceful.

"Master, how did your official duties go today?" Madam Zhou greeted him and took the outer robe he had taken off.

"The same old routine: patrolling, training soldiers, and handling trivial legal matters."

Zhao Wenjie sat down in the main seat and rubbed his temples: "The second batch of immigrants has arrived one after another. The county magistrate summoned us for half a day to discuss how to properly settle them, prevent any unrest, and keep an eye on the new merchants so they don't break the rules."

"You've worked hard, sir."

Zhou poured him a cup of hot tea: "Are the children practicing their skills diligently?"

"Huaiyuan is composed, Qinghe is elegant, Huaijin... still needs to be polished."

Zhao Wenjie took a sip of tea, his tone softening: "Our family wasn't well-off. I've earned what I am today by risking my life. If they want to have a better life than me in the future, they have to endure hardship."

Madam Zhou nodded: "I understand. But Qinghe, she..."

"I remember what happened to Qinghe."

Zhao Wenjie knew what his wife was worried about: "If I have the chance, I will keep an eye out for her. In this world, it's always better for a woman to be capable than one who is powerless."

As they spoke, the children had finished washing up, changed into clean everyday clothes, and filed in. Besides the three who were practicing martial arts, there was their ten-year-old second daughter Qinglian, their eight-year-old youngest daughter Qingzhi, and their two even younger, still-naive sons, who were being looked after by their wet nurse. Including Zhao Wenjie and his wife, the family of nine (plus several servants at different tables) filled the eight-immortal table to the brim.

The food wasn't fancy, but the portions were generous and steaming hot. There was a large bowl of millet rice, a bowl of stewed pork with cabbage and tofu, a plate of scrambled eggs, a plate of pickled radishes, and a large bowl of egg drop soup. In this remote region beyond the Great Wall, such meals were a good standard of living for Zhao Wenjie, a seventh-rank official (his regular salary plus frontier allowances, military allowances, and some legitimate "ice and charcoal tribute"—his under-the-table income). His salary, equivalent to about two hundred taels of silver annually, plus a stipend of rice in kind, was more than enough to support his large family and maintain a certain level of respectability. In the more prosperous areas within the Great Wall, such an income might be insufficient for a seventh-rank official, but in this pioneering region, prices were reasonable and subsidies were high, allowing him to live comfortably.

There weren't many rules at the dinner table; the children could speak softly, but they had to wait for their parents to start eating. While eating, Zhao Huaiyuan asked, "Father, I heard that there are Jurchen savages causing trouble again in the mountains to the north? Are the county soldiers going to suppress them?"

Zhao Wenjie picked up a piece of meat and said casually, "The border troops are already on the move. Our county soldiers are mainly responsible for patrolling and assisting in investigations within the territory, so there's no need for them to be deployed for the time being. What, are you itching to go?"

Zhao Huaiyuan's eyes lit up: "My son is thinking that if he could have a chance to practice in real combat..."

"No hurries!"

Zhao Wenjie frowned and interrupted him: "First, hone your skills. When you're on the battlefield, swords and spears have no eyes, and your rudimentary skills won't be enough. If you can get into the military academy next year, you'll naturally have the opportunity to gain practical experience."

Zhao Qinghe said softly, "Father, I read the 'Northern Land Records' today. It says that the Jurchens are divided into many tribes with different customs, and some are quite good at setting up ambushes in the mountains and forests. Shouldn't our county soldiers learn more about mountain warfare tactics when they patrol?"

Zhao Wenjie glanced at his daughter with some surprise, his eyes showing approval: "You read books very carefully. That's right, dealing with these local bullies can't rely on battle formations alone. The county army has already transferred some experienced hunters and local militiamen familiar with the terrain to teach them how to identify traps and track hiding places. Qinghe, if you are interested in these things, you might as well take a look at maps and military books. In the future... they might be useful."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear. Although women cannot directly lead troops, they are not without their uses in logistics, staff work, and even special operations.

Zhao Huaijin ate in silence, not daring to interrupt. Zhao Wenjie glanced at him and said, "Huaijin, your older brother and sister are both striving for improvement. Although you are young, you cannot slack off. You must do either studying or martial arts. Starting tomorrow, go to your mother's house after school to review your lessons for an hour, and then I will check on you."

“Yes, Father,” Zhao Huaijin replied in a low voice.

Madam Zhou served food to the younger children and said softly, "Your father works hard outside and still supervises you at home, all for your own good. Our family is not like those aristocratic families; we have to earn everything ourselves. You siblings must work together and help each other."

The children nodded.

After the meal, it was already dark. The servants lit the oil lamps. Zhao Wenjie called the three older children to the study—actually just a small room partitioned off from the main room, furnished with a desk, bookshelves, and a few chairs. The bookshelves were mostly filled with military books, laws, local chronicles, and some basic martial arts classics, as well as a few primers for children.

"Huaiyuan, how's your progress on the Foundation Establishment stage of the Purple Cloud Divine Skill?"

Zhao Wenjie asked. He had taught the basics of the cultivation technique to his eldest son, which was permitted by the imperial court, but deeper levels of the technique required a certain status or merit to acquire.

"Father, I have felt the Qi in my dantian, but circulating it through the microcosmic orbit is still somewhat difficult," Zhao Huaiyuan replied respectfully.

"Hmm, no rush, proceed step by step. In internal energy cultivation, the worst thing is to be greedy and reckless. You should consolidate your foundation first, and when you are admitted to the martial arts academy, you may be qualified to apply for subsequent cultivation techniques."

Zhao Wenjie instructed, then looked at his daughter: "Qinghe, can you combine your technique with internal energy training? Internal energy is the foundation, while techniques are the branches and leaves. Don't put the cart before the horse."

"My daughter is trying, but her internal energy is too weak to control it as she wishes," Zhao Qinghe said, somewhat distressed.

“Internal energy cultivation is not something that can be achieved overnight. You have good aptitude, and perseverance will surely bring results. If you have any questions, you can come and ask me, or go to the county school to consult the female instructors.”

Zhao Wenjie's tone was unusually gentle. He held complex expectations for his exceptionally talented eldest daughter.

He then tested his second son, Huaijin, on his studies, offering a few words of guidance. Finally, looking at his three children, he solemnly said, "I joined the army at sixteen, fighting my way to this point, and only now have I achieved a modest future. You are born in a good time; the court has established imperial examinations, military academies, and is actively recruiting talented individuals. As long as you are willing to work hard and have the ability, you will have no shortage of opportunities. But remember, the court's laws are strict, especially regarding officials and their relatives. You must be careful in your words and actions, and never abuse your status to do anything reckless. Furthermore, you must never have any improper dealings with unscrupulous merchants, powerful figures, or people of foreign origin. The Zhao family's tradition is based on 'loyalty and diligence'—loyalty to the court, diligence in your duties, and diligence in your studies. Do you understand?"

"Got it!" the three children replied in unison.

"Go on, get some rest."

After the children left, Zhao Wenjie was left alone in the study. He walked to the window, pushed it open a crack, and a cool night breeze rushed in. In the distance, the sound of the night watchman's clapper could be heard from the streets and alleys, and further away, the city walls and the boundless darkness beyond the city walls.

He had been in the North for seven years. In three more years, if he didn't commit any major offenses and his performance evaluation was "above average," he could be promoted to the sixth rank and potentially transferred back to one of the four capitals within the Great Wall, or to a prefecture more prosperous than the North. That was the hope of every frontier official. But he also knew that these last three years were especially crucial, and he couldn't afford any mistakes. Although Ancheng was small, it was strategically located, attracting a large influx of immigrants and a diverse mix of ethnicities, creating an atmosphere of undercurrents and intrigue.

He touched his chest, where a cold iron plaque was tucked close to his body, engraved with his military achievements and official rank. He thought of his lively and healthy children, his gentle and virtuous wife, and the simple yet peaceful and fulfilling days he had lived.

All of this was given to him by the imperial court and Emperor Hua. He had to protect it and also strive for a better future for his children.

He closed the window and blew out the light. The study was plunged into darkness, except for a glint of light in his eyes, flickering faintly in the shadows, like the alpha wolf guarding its territory.

The giggling of the young girl Qingzhi came from the backyard, but was quickly drowned out by Zhou's gentle reprimand.

Night deepened. (End of Chapter)