He Yuyang: The tough eldest brother of the courtyard house

The December wind was like a knife, stinging his face. He Yuyang had just carried the last bundle of firewood into the kitchen when he heard a familiar, loud voice from the alley entrance, clear and bright with the unique voice of a young man: "Mom! Brother! I'm back!"

A warmth filled his heart, and he lifted the curtain to greet the boy—standing at the courtyard gate was a young man, about half a head taller than he was, wearing a new blue cotton-padded jacket made by Liu Yan, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong wrists. The boy was a good half a head taller than he had been three months ago, his shoulders much broader, standing there like a sapling, even a head taller than himself. Who else could it be but He Yuzhu?

"Why are you so late? Your mother and I have been waiting for you for ages." He Yuyang laughed and punched him lightly, only to find his muscles hard and firm, unlike the loose muscles he used to have.

"My master said my horse stance was stable enough, so he made me practice for an extra half hour before letting me go." He Yuzhu scratched his head, a hint of pride mixed with embarrassment on his face. "Brother, do you think I've grown taller? My master said it's because my bones and muscles are developing!"

"You've definitely grown taller," Liu Yan said, her eyes red-rimmed as she came out of the house. She reached out and touched her youngest son's arm. "You're almost as tall as your father now, and you're much stronger too. But why is your face so thin? Did you not eat enough at the martial arts school?"

"I'm full, I'm full!" He Yuzhu quickly waved his hand. "Master cooks meat porridge for us every meal, and he said that I'm growing strong quickly, so I need to eat more whole grains to build up my strength." As he spoke, he took out an oil paper package from his cloth bag. "This is some sweet cake that Master gave me. I'll let my mother and brother try it."

Inside the oil paper package were several pieces of golden-yellow sugar cakes, still warm. He Yuyang knew that sugar was precious these days, and Zhou Zhengguo's willingness to give them to He Yuzhu showed how much he cared for him. He poured his younger brother a bowl of hot water: "Were you cold on the way? Warm yourself up. Dad went to the restaurant; he said he'd treat you to stewed meat tonight."

He Yuzhu's eyes lit up, and he gulped down two mouthfuls of water, the steam blurring his vision. "Brother, let me tell you, I can now smash through the temple's bricks with one punch! Master said that in another six months, I'll be able to learn 'Tiger Fist'!"

"Learning martial arts is for strengthening the body, not for fighting, understand?" He Yuyang tapped his head, his tone becoming serious. "Did you give the 'folk remedy' I asked you to bring back to your master last time?"

"Yes, yes," He Yuzhu nodded vigorously. "My master said the medicine was effective and asked me to thank you. Oh, and he asked me to give you a message: 'The winds are strong at the end of the year, so avoid going out at night.'"

This was a reminder that the Japanese were cracking down hard lately, and he needed to be extra careful when delivering supplies at night. He Yuyang nodded: "I understand. Tell your master to take care too."

As the two brothers were talking, He Daqing returned, carrying a piece of pork belly. Seeing his youngest son, he laughed, "Zhuzi's back? Let Dad see you! Wow, I almost didn't recognize you! You've grown into a little iron tower!"

He Yuzhu chuckled and told his father about the martial arts school, talking animatedly about which of his fellow disciples could hold a horse stance the longest and who had the most powerful punches. Liu Yan listened from the side, occasionally putting a piece of sweet cake on her youngest son's plate, her eyes never brimming with smiles.

After dinner, He Yuzhu, thinking about his friends at the alley entrance, pulled He Yuyang along, wanting to go out for a walk. He Yuyang didn't want to go, but seeing his younger brother's longing look, he put on his cotton-padded coat and went out with him.

The alley was deserted, with only a few windows casting dim light and the occasional bark of a dog. The snow was hardened by footsteps, crunching underfoot. He Yuzhu, however, was like a bird just released from its cage, looking around curiously, muttering, "Is Butcher Zhang's butcher shop still open? Is Grandpa Wang's birdcage still hanging at the door?"

As they reached the middle of the alley, they suddenly heard a commotion, a mix of children's shouts and an old man's pleas. He Yuyang frowned, pulled He Yuzhu aside, and peeked out from behind a wall—under the streetlamp, three boys were shoving and jostling a beggar. Leading them was the third son of Zhao the carpenter from the east end of the alley, clutching a dark, grimy cornbread, cursing, "Old man, you dare glare at me? You think you can eat this cornbread?"

The beggar was a blind old man, wearing a tattered single garment, shivering from the cold, reaching out his withered hand to snatch it: "That's...that was given to me by a kind person..."

"Give it to you? It's mine now!" Zhao San tossed the cornbread onto the ground, then stomped on it. "Want some? Lick it clean!"

The other two boys laughed and pushed the old man, causing him to stumble and almost fall.

He Yuzhu's face flushed red instantly, and he clenched his fists, about to rush out, but He Yuyang grabbed him: "Where are you going?"

"They're bullying us!" He Yuzhu's voice trembled, his eyes wide like a leopard pounced on. "Master said that learning martial arts means protecting the weak!"

"I know, but don't act impulsively," He Yuyang said in a low voice. "Have you thought about what you're going to do?"

He Yuzhu didn't say anything, but suddenly broke free from his grasp, strode out, stood in front of the three boys, and shouted loudly, "Stop! Don't bully people!"

Zhao San and the others were stunned for a moment, then, upon recognizing He Yuzhu, they sneered, "Oh, isn't this the second son of the He family? Where did you just pop up from? Trying to meddle in grandpa's business?"

"Pick up the cornbread and apologize to the old man!" He Yuzhu said stiffly, his chest heaving, his cotton-padded jacket stretched taut, revealing the developing muscles of the young man.

"Apologize? I think you're asking for a beating!" Zhao San charged over, swinging his fist. He was two years older than He Yuzhu and used to bullying people in the alley. He didn't take this "shorty" seriously at all (he didn't know that He Yuzhu had grown taller).

He Yuyang's heart tightened. Just as he was about to step forward, he saw He Yuzhu suddenly turn to the side, his right hand moving as fast as lightning, and gently deflecting Zhao San's fist as if it had hit cotton. Zhao San's body tilted, and he fell to the ground with a cry of "Ouch!" He didn't get up for a long time.

The other two boys were startled, exchanged a glance, and rushed forward together. He Yuzhu remained calm, dodging left and right with a steadiness that belied his childlike nature—a foundation built through three months of horse stance training. He spotted one of the boys' arms, grabbed it, and gently pulled him back, causing the boy to stumble and crash into the other, the two tumbling into a heap.

In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, all three teenagers were down. He Yuzhu stood there, his chest heaving slightly, but he didn't lay another hand on them, only coldly watching them: "Get lost! If you dare bully anyone again, I'll beat you every time I see you!"

Zhao San and his men had never seen anything like this before. They scrambled away, not forgetting to throw down a threat even when they were far away: "You just wait!"

He Yuzhu ignored them, turned around, picked up the cornbread from the ground, patted off the snow, and handed it to the blind old man: "Grandpa, here you go."

The old man took it with trembling hands, repeatedly muttering, "What a good person... such a good person..."

With a flushed face, He Yuzhu took out a piece of sweet cake (which he hadn't been willing to eat himself) from his pocket, stuffed it into the old man's hand, and pulled He Yuyang along as they ran home, faster than rabbits.

Back home, after closing the door, He Yuzhu leaned against it, panting heavily. His face was flushed, and his palms were sweaty. "Brother... I... I hit someone..." His voice trembled, tinged with lingering fear. "Master said we shouldn't act rashly... Did I do something wrong?"

Seeing his nervous yet excited expression, He Yuyang felt both amused and annoyed. She handed him a towel: "Wipe your sweat. You didn't do anything wrong. They were bullying an old person, and it was right to intervene."

"Really?" He Yuzhu's eyes lit up, then drooped again. "But if I push them down, Zhao San will definitely tell his father..."

"It was just a push, no serious injury." He Yuyang patted his shoulder. "You did the right thing, but remember, don't be so impulsive next time. Try to persuade them if you can, and only resort to violence if that fails, and don't go too far. Just stop when you've made a small mistake. You learned martial arts to protect people, not to cause trouble, understand?"

"Okay! I understand!" He Yuzhu nodded emphatically, the tension in his eyes lessening considerably, replaced by more confidence. "Brother, that move I just used is called 'Going with the Flow,' Master just taught me it, was it effective?"

"It works well." He Yuyang smiled and ruffled his hair. "Go wash your hands, don't let Dad know you just went out to fight."

He Yuzhu had just finished washing his hands when He Daqing came out from the inner room, looking at his youngest son: "What were you doing outside? Your face is so red?"

"No...we didn't do anything," He Yuzhu said, his eyes darting around. "We just built a snowman at the door with my brother."

He Yuyang quickly smoothed things over: "Yes, Dad, Zhuzi is strong. The snowman he built is even taller than me. By the way, we just ran into Zhao San and the others at the alley entrance. They were arguing with an old man, and Zhuzi even tried to break it up, telling them not to bully people."

He deliberately referred to it as "mediating a fight," downplaying the physical altercation.

He Daqing frowned: "That kid from Zhao the carpenter's family is no good. Avoid them in the future. Zhuzi, did you hear me?"

"I heard you, Dad," He Yuzhu said softly, his head bowed.

"We don't cause trouble, but we can't be afraid of trouble either." He Daqing sighed, looking at his youngest son's obviously strong physique, his tone softened a bit, "If someone bullies us, we should fight back, but..." He paused, "Don't hurt them. These days, it's better to avoid trouble."

"I understand, Dad." He Yuzhu's voice was lighter, as if he had breathed a sigh of relief.

That night, the two brothers squeezed together on a single kang (heated brick bed). He Yuzhu tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and whispered, "Brother, was I especially amazing today?"

"Impressive." He Yuyang closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. "But that's not enough. You'll be truly impressive when you can punch through a door."

"I definitely can!" He Yuzhu's voice was full of enthusiasm. "My master said I'm the most talented apprentice he's ever seen!"

"Yes, I believe you," He Yuyang replied, but his mind was elsewhere. He Yuzhu had grown up and had the ability to protect others, which was a good thing, but it also meant that he would be exposed to the complexities of the world more quickly. Zhao San had his father behind him, and Zhao the carpenter was close to Yi Zhonghai; this matter probably wouldn't be so easy to get over.

Sure enough, early the next morning, Carpenter Zhao led Zhao San to the door, blocking the gate and shouting, "He Daqing! Your second son beat up my third son! Come out here and explain yourself!"

He Daqing had just opened the door when he was startled by the scene before him: "Brother Zhao, what's going on?"

"What happened? Ask your second son!" Carpenter Zhao pointed to the scrapes on Zhao San's arm (which he actually got from a fall), "You beat my little brother up like this, you have to give me an explanation! Otherwise, I'll go to the restaurant and find your manager, let him be the judge!"

He knew that He Daqing was the manager of the restaurant and was afraid of trouble, so he deliberately used this to blackmail him.

Hearing the commotion, He Yuzhu rushed out of the house: "I didn't hit him! He was the one who snatched the old man's cornbread. I tried to stop him, and he fell down on his own!"

"You dare to deny it!" Zhao San shouted, his neck stiff. "You're the one who hit me! I want your father to pay my medical bills!"

"You're talking nonsense!" He Yuzhu's face turned red with anger, and he clenched his fists, about to rush forward.

"Zhu Zi!" He Yu Yang grabbed him and took a step forward, looking at Zhao the carpenter. "Uncle Zhao, you can't just say things like that. A lot of people saw it yesterday. It was your mistress who snatched the beggar's things. My brother tried to break it up, and he accidentally fell down. If you don't believe me, ask Uncle Wang at the alley entrance. He was smoking at the door at the time."

He deliberately mentioned Grandpa Wang, who was a kind old man. He was indeed at the door yesterday, and even if Zhao the carpenter went to ask, he wouldn't get any information.

Carpenter Zhao was indeed taken aback. He had only intended to extort some money, but he hadn't expected He Yuyang to be so calm and even bring up Grandpa Wang. His eyes darted around, and he added, "Even if you're trying to break up a fight, you can't resort to violence! He's just a kid, where does he get that kind of strength? I think it's because your family spoils him by letting him learn martial arts, and he's deliberately bullying people!"

"Learning martial arts is for strengthening the body, not for bullying others." A loud voice came from the alley entrance. Everyone turned around and saw Zhou Zhengguo, carrying a satchel on his back, standing there at some point.

"Master Zhou... Master Zhou?" Zhao the carpenter's expression changed. He knew that Zhou Zhengguo was a martial arts master and someone he couldn't afford to offend.

Zhou Zhengguo walked over to He Yuzhu, looked at him, then at Zhao San, and said calmly, "My disciple learns martial arts by first learning 'not to instigate harm,' then 'not to be harmed,' and only lastly 'to protect others.' It's within the rules for him to intervene when your child bullies an elderly person. If you disagree, you can come with me to the martial arts school and discuss it, and see if there's any principle of 'not letting evil go unpunished' in the martial arts world."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an air of authority. Zhao the carpenter felt uneasy under his gaze and pulled Zhao San away, saying, "Consider it...consider it our bad luck!"

"Stop!" Zhou Zhengguo called out to him. "Have your child apologize to that beggar, and we'll call it even. Otherwise, I can't guarantee he'll be able to walk on his own next time we meet."

Carpenter Zhao dared not say no, so he forced Zhao San to mutter "I'm sorry" before running away without looking back.

"Master Zhou, what brings you here?" He Daqing was both surprised and delighted, and quickly invited him into the house.

"Just passing by, thought I'd drop by and see the pillar." Zhou Zhengguo patted He Yuzhu on the shoulder. "Well done, you have a bit of me back in the day."

He Yuzhu blushed, scratched his head, and grinned foolishly.

He Yuyang looked at Zhou Zhengguo and understood—his master hadn't just been passing by; he had clearly come specifically to support him. He felt a warm glow in his heart; it seemed he hadn't misjudged him.

After seeing Zhou Zhengguo off, He Daqing looked at his youngest son with a complicated expression: "Zhuzi, your master is a good man. Study hard in the future and don't let him down."

"Yes!" He Yuzhu nodded emphatically, his eyes shining.

Standing at the courtyard gate, He Yuyang watched the neighbors gradually disperse from the alley, knowing in his heart that this was just the beginning. He Yuzhu's fists would one day face people even more troublesome than Zhao San, perhaps even those armed wolves. But he wasn't worried, because within those fists lay not only strength, but also a sense of right and wrong, and a sense of responsibility.

Just like Master Zhou said, one must learn virtue before learning martial arts. This child is on the right path.