Huang Yu glanced at Zheng Fa, then turned to look at the group of boys who clearly didn’t regard him as a threat.
Earlier, he had thought Zheng Fa was a bit pretentious.
But now, in comparison, he found Zheng Fa much more endearing, and he felt an unconscious closeness to him.
“How did you do?” Huang Yu asked, immediately regretting his words.
Zheng Fa shook his head and remained silent.
He had always adhered to a principle: no discussing answers after an exam. He viewed it as a gamble with little reward but potentially great harm.
Seeing Zheng Fa’s silence, Huang Yu understood his thoughts.
He had spent five years in primary education but had managed to write less than ten percent this time.
Zheng Fa was naturally in a worse position.
It was only natural to feel ashamed to bring it up.
“It’s okay, I didn’t do well either!” Huang Yu clapped Zheng Fa on the shoulder, genuinely encouraging him. “I might have done a little better, but just a little! It doesn’t matter, I definitely won’t get selected!”
After saying this, he leaned closer to Zheng Fa’s ear and whispered, “I’ve figured it out long ago. That guy Gao Yuan? His family is just a bit wealthier. If you had such good conditions, you wouldn’t be any worse than him!”
Zheng Fa looked at Huang Yu’s envious face and instinctively replaced the “you” in his last sentence with “I,” suddenly understanding his true meaning.
As the two chatted, Zheng Fa suddenly noticed a few people sitting upright by the window, and he felt a sudden sense of “the teacher is coming.”
Sure enough, the figure of Steward Wu was striding toward the pavilion.
Beside him, Huang Yu enthusiastically invited, “Steward Wu is here! We should head back together. How about you come over to my place today?”
Before he could finish, Steward Wu had already stepped inside.
“Those three come with me; the rest can leave.” The crowd noticed he was holding three answer sheets.
“Gao Yuan.”
“Han Cheng.”
Then, he paused slightly with the last answer sheet before saying, “Zheng Fa.”
Huang Yu turned in surprise to look at Zheng Fa.
As Zheng Fa stood up, he responded to Huang Yu’s earlier invitation with a hint of sincere apology, a slightly embarrassed tone in his voice. “I’m afraid I won’t have time today. How about another day?”
---
**Chapter 9: The Qualities of a Martial Artist**
Huang Yu stood there, mouth slightly agape, watching Zheng Fa leave with Steward Wu.
He couldn’t quite put his feelings into words.
He recalled what he had just said:
“Maybe I did a little better…”
“You’re not worse than him…”
Those words were meant to be comforting.
Could he really not be worse than him?
The fleeting sense of camaraderie he had felt vanished, replaced by a stronger pang of jealousy toward this “new friend.”
Compared to his inexplicable feelings, the others were more straightforward: Who is this guy?
Everyone had anticipated Gao Yuan being called away.
Han Cheng wasn’t without a background either; he was one of the three students, but his quiet demeanor made him less noticeable among the trio.
But Zheng Fa…
“Where did Zheng Fa come from? Does anyone know him?”
“I remember he seemed to always sit in the corner.”
“I have an impression of him; he looks pretty ordinary, and his family doesn’t seem well-off. I thought he was just here to make up the numbers, but…”
A few people had noticed how Huang Yu and Zheng Fa had been talking.
“Brother Huang, are you familiar with that Zheng brother?”
Huang Yu looked at the person who had asked; he was one of the group that had been around Gao Yuan.
He remembered clearly the disdainful smirk on this guy’s face when he had said, “I didn’t bring any money.”
Now, seeing the enthusiastic smile on the newcomer’s face, Huang Yu felt it was a bit strange.
“I… I came here with him. His family conditions should be pretty poor, even worse than mine.”
“From humble beginnings come great talents,” the other person said, surprisingly sincere. “Zheng brother is truly remarkable.”
Wait, what happened to your previous disdain for the poor?
Huang Yu felt a wave of discrimination wash over him.
“Brother Huang, it’s not that I’ve changed so quickly.” Seemingly noticing Huang Yu’s discomfort, the person pointed to his silk robe. “We were both clinging to the same wealthy patron. I had money, you didn’t, so naturally, I’d push you out.”
This frankness was almost shocking, yet it carried a strange sincerity.
“But now it’s different, Brother Huang. Zheng brother might just be another wealthy patron. And you’ve already latched onto him.”
Huang Yu felt a sudden clarity.
It seemed he had indeed chosen the right path?
“But there are still three people left?” Huang Yu thought, realizing it wasn’t settled yet.
“That’s too late!” The person looked at him as if he were foolish. “You got to him first, so I’m trying to curry favor with you. If he gets the position of book boy, I won’t even have the chance to flatter him.”
After saying this, the person gestured behind Huang Yu, and he turned to see several other boys smiling warmly at him.
He finally understood:
One person rises, and the rest follow…
Huh?
---
As Zheng Fa stepped out of the pavilion, he felt a variety of gazes upon him.
Behind him, the curious and enthusiastic looks of the other boys.
In front of him, Gao Yuan and Han Cheng’s scrutinizing and wary expressions.
What puzzled Zheng Fa even more was the subtle coldness in Steward Wu’s gaze as he called him out.
Had he offended this man in some way?
Steward Wu didn’t seem inclined to chat; he simply led the three of them briskly along.
The trio dared not speak, focusing intently on keeping up, hardly able to take in the scenery along the way.
Zheng Fa sensed they were heading toward the outer courtyard, and when Steward Wu finally stopped, they found themselves in a spacious courtyard.
Though it was called a courtyard, it resembled a large training ground.
Half of the ground was paved with large slabs of bluestone, upon which various stone locks of different sizes and weights were placed, the once-rough surface now polished to a shine from countless footsteps.
At the end of the stone slabs stood a row of small buildings, with several weapon racks displaying various arms at their entrances.
The unpaved ground was overgrown with grass, and at the far end stood a row of upright targets.
A burly man was galloping across the grass, nimbly drawing his bow and shooting arrows.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Zheng Fa couldn’t see how many arrows he shot, but he heard Steward Wu clapping and laughing, “Head Instructor Xu, what a marksman!”
Upon hearing this, the man turned his horse and charged toward Zheng Fa and the others.
Clop, clop, clop, clop.
The sound of hooves on the bluestone grew louder and closer.
The man showed no sign of slowing down; instead, he leaned forward, charging at them with an almost reckless abandon.
His jaw was covered in a wild, unkempt beard, and his large frame was imposing as he barreled toward Zheng Fa and the others.
“Whoa!”
Zheng Fa felt the horse’s breath on his face just as the man yanked the reins, causing the horse to rear up.
The massive hoof, larger than his face, was less than three inches from his forehead!
Han Cheng, standing beside Zheng Fa, stumbled backward and fell to the ground with a pained yelp.
The burly man dismounted and picked Han Cheng up, looking somewhat displeased. “This kid isn’t cut out for this; he lacks courage!”
“This isn’t a position for you to be a guard for Head Instructor Xu,” Steward Wu said with a smile, his expression unchanged even when the instructor charged at them.
“Hmm?”
“This is a candidate for the Seventh Young Master’s book boy. The lady said to let you take a look.”
Steward Wu then explained to Zheng Fa and the others, “The Seventh Young Master’s book boy will not only study literature with Mr. Shen but also learn martial arts from you, Head Instructor Xu. You need to assess their potential.”
Hearing this, Head Instructor Xu set Han Cheng down and began to feel his shoulders, back, and waist.
“Not good! This kid has only mediocre talent for martial arts.”
Before anyone else could speak, Han Cheng grew anxious. Even he, who was usually taciturn, knew that this statement could ruin his future. “You can determine my potential just by feeling me a few times?”
“Ha!” Head Instructor Xu smiled at him. “You’ve got a bit of spirit; are you not convinced?”
“Not convinced!” Han Cheng gritted his teeth.
“All the guards of the Zhao family have been through my hands. I can tell talent and potential in martial arts; I’ve never been wrong.”
Han Cheng’s face still showed defiance.
“Let me ask you, do you usually not like to eat? And you especially dislike greasy meat?”
Han Cheng’s face turned pale, as if he had been exposed.
“Ultimately, martial arts talent comes down to two things—being born well and eating well!”