Xie Ming

Xiao offered sacrifices to the deceased at the grave, while Changting spurred his horse and pursued closely behind.

After reading the news from Henan in front of the stele, the two generals burned paper money together, head to head.

However, in the midst of his rambling, headstrong Changting's rough hands failed to quell his anger.

Xiao rolled his eyes at him, finding him clumsy, and bluntly suggested assigning him to Old Huang.

"Hey, you, ouch!"

"What do you think you can do?"

"The flame was so big, you almost put it out."

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Stay over there."

"Uh, yes, you go to Old Huang's place."

"Give Old Huang some and burn it quickly."

"Those two are always inseparable."

"I suppose it would provide some support even underground."

"Don't let people feel cold."

"Otherwise, that strange old man will start to think that we two brothers are ignorant and don't know any better!"

"Go, go quickly."

Xiao Lang disliked Chang Ting for being clumsy and awkward.

Changting knew that he had offended the authorities with his rashness, so he did not argue and obediently moved his body to the side.

Fortunately, Lao Huang's grave is right next to Chuanwu's, in one place, so they are not too far apart.

As he tended the fire again, Chang Tingye, trying to make conversation, asked a question out of the blue.

"Yes, General."

"I remember that the origin of traditional martial arts is Hebei, but where in Hebei is it?"

Anyway, the business is not far from the Yellow River.

"Old Huang could tell from the accent that he came from there."

"You know, these two, one old and one young, really hit it off."

"Back when we were still in Beijing, there was a time when we were drinking in the camp, and Minglu and I were talking about it."

"Perhaps Chuanwu is actually Old Huang's biological son, who traveled thousands of miles to find his relatives and sought refuge in the capital."

"Otherwise, how would we deal with that strange old man who keeps fixated on traditional martial arts?"

"He follows me around all day, like a father raising his own son."

When Chuanwu heard this, he could only grin bitterly.

"I remember we had a fight because I drank too much and we had a disagreement over something."

"Even now, I still have a scar on my butt from when he broke the jar that year!"

Changting recounted the events vividly, recalling the past, and eagerly began to tell them.

After saying this, he appeared even more dejected.

He shook his head, looking sorrowful, and diligently added more paper money to the fire.

Upon hearing this, Xiao Jingchuan turned his head to glance at it, recalling the past and feeling uneasy.

As the conversation progressed, since Changting had brought up this topic, he continued, taking the opportunity to recount a secret story from the past.

Before beginning to recount, Xiao Nian recalled something in her heart and sighed deeply again.

"Actually, Old Huang is, in the end, a man with a tragic fate."

"His kindness to traditional martial arts must have its own origins."

As he finished speaking, Xiao's legs went numb. He simply propped himself up, shifted his position, and sat down next to the Chuanwu Stele. He turned around, looked at the river tide, his eyes glazed over, and began to sigh deeply.

"kindness?"

"what for?"

"Could it be that Wang Chuanwu is actually related to this old Huang?"

Upon hearing what the general said, Changting seemed to become interested as well and hurriedly asked.

"Heh, come on, what are you talking about?"

"Alright, thanks to Chuanwu today, I can finally take a break."

"Now that Lao Huang has already gone with him, there's nothing more to say or not to say."

"It's good to have him say it to you in front of the old man."

"Let's keep it all as a memento," Director Xiao said, making the arrangements.

Upon hearing this, Changting became even more impatient and urged him on again.

Xiao, annoyed by his disturbance, glared at him, then turned back and began to explain in detail.

"Heh, just take it as a story."

“This…” “But this was about fifteen or sixteen years ago.”

"In the south of Hebei, bordering Shandong, there is a county called Gucheng."

"Thirty li west of the old city, there is a village called Xiaoxinzhuang."

There was an old man named Huang in the village.

"This old man has four children."

"There are three women and one man."

"The first three were all maids, and they were named Zhaodi, Yindi, and Pandi."

"Think about it, you can tell just by hearing the name."

"Especially in those days, and in the countryside, if you didn't have a son to support the family, you would be laughed at and looked down upon."

Finally, with great difficulty, she had a son late in life.

"We specially invited the old scholar from the village to name it."

"The old pedantic scholar took one look and saw that the child had a natural air of heroism in his brows. He didn't know where he got the idea, so he said, 'Let him be called Chuanwu, Huang Chuanwu!'"

Xiao squinted and started the conversation, his demeanor suggesting a storyteller's flair.

But then, upon hearing the words "traditional martial arts," Changting suddenly slapped his forehead.

"kindness?"

"Pass on, pass on martial arts?"

"Ah, I see." He stared blankly, oblivious to the situation, and unconsciously interrupted Xiao's conversation, further spoiling Xiao's mood.

Immediately, Xiao Jingchuan picked up a small clod of dirt from his feet and beckoned to Changting.

"You fucking bastard, Cheng Neng messed things up with me."

"Are you going to listen or not?"

"Shut your mouth if you want to hear it!" Xiao cursed.

"Uh, yes, yes."

Seeing this, Changting felt ashamed and embarrassed. With a embarrassed face, he quickly shrank back and waved his hands, obediently and knowingly keeping quiet and listening without daring to say anything more.

After such a commotion, Xiao was furious and paused for a long while before continuing his story.

"Just now, we were talking about an old man named Huang from Xiaoxinzhuang. He had a son late in life and named him Huang Chuanwu."

"This kid has been extremely unruly since he was a child."

"They disliked cats and dogs, and by the time they were five or six years old, they became increasingly naughty and unruly."

"When he gets into trouble, he's like any other half-grown kid, at most he's good at things like climbing on roofs and tearing off tiles."

"He is not."

He liked to be with the livestock.

"At that time, the Huang family of six worked as long-term laborers for a landlord surnamed Fan in this village."

"The landlord kept a mule and an old yellow ox in his backyard."

"Chuanwu, that kid, always finds time to ride his mule out to play in the fields."

"Old Huang beat him up quite a few times because of this."

"But his temperament is hard to change, so no matter how much you beat him, it won't make a difference."

"Ugh"

"Time flies, autumn has passed and spring has come."

“The following spring, the maternal relatives from the neighboring village sent a message to Xiaoxinzhuang, saying that Old Huang’s father-in-law had been working on the first day of the year, and for some unknown reason, he had bumped his head on a stone at the top of the ridge and died.”

“In the countryside, when something like this happens, almost half the village will go to help.”

"Not to mention Old Huang and his wife."

"In a hurry, he ran to the front yard to tell the landlord that he was about to go to the funeral."

"That landlord surnamed Fan was actually a kind-hearted man. After hearing about the situation, he took out a few coins from his own pocket and gave them all as a gift."

Old Huang and his wife accepted it with profuse thanks.

"Back in the backyard, I picked up the bundle."

"After all, they are filial daughters and sons-in-law, so they discussed and decided to travel overnight."

"It's not far, only twenty li away. It should take an hour to walk there. I reckon we can catch up no matter what."

"And it wasn't just the two of them; the three girls in the family were all grown up by then."

"Upon hearing that Grandpa had suddenly passed away, the house was filled with weeping and wailing, and everyone wanted to go with him to see him one last time."

"At first, Lao Huang disagreed, thinking it would only cause trouble."

"It's still the old woman who speaks up for us, who keeps talking and adds another person to the mix."

(End of this chapter)