My name is Qiu Zhixing, and I am 98 years old. I have spent over ninety springs and autumns in the home where I now reside.
Even now, I recall it clearly.
That year, my master, who was also my adoptive father, led my six elder martial brothers down the mountain to fight the devils. Later, one day, Master asked me to return, saying the martial arts school needed someone to manage it.
Before I left, I tugged at Master's robe and asked, "Master, when will you return?"
Master replied, "We will return when the devils are driven away."
However, I waited for a full eighty to ninety years, and neither Master nor my elder martial brothers ever set foot in the martial arts school again.
I remember Master telling me that when he found me as an infant, abandoned by the roadside by my parents, he was on his way down the mountain. It was a time of drought, and many people couldn't even feed themselves, let alone raise a child.
My birth parents must have been like that, abandoning me.
Master, being kind-hearted, took me back. Although I was young then, I vaguely remember Master stroking my head and saying,
"From now on, you shall call me Master."
Afterward, Master took me back to the mountain.
My master was the instructor of a martial arts school. He had been a drillmaster in the imperial court during his youth and knew some martial arts. However, the court was gone now. Relying on his early savings, Master settled here and opened a martial arts school. Though life was a bit hard, it wasn't to the point of starvation.
Besides my master, there were six elder martial brothers, all looking gaunt but strong.
When I was five or six years old.
Eldest Martial Brother proudly told me, "This martial arts school was built by Master and us over five years, bit by bit. The main hall enshrines Master's ancestral martial masters."
"One side hall is where Master lives, containing ancient books and a room full of medicinal herbs. Another side hall is where my martial brothers and I live."
Although life was difficult, we at least had a place to shelter from the wind and rain. We practiced martial arts and calligraphy every day, and Master would occasionally teach us some medical knowledge and herbs.
My elder martial brothers were often disciplined, but I could see that Master wasn't using much force. Only with me, when I couldn't memorize my lessons even after days, would he raise the whip several times before gently lowering it and leaving with a sigh.
My elder martial brothers took good care of me. Seeing how thin I was and still growing, they would sneak out during practice to catch birds and roast them. Later, Master discovered this, and we were scolded and punished by copying books.
But that night, the gruel we ate began to have flecks of meat. We knew Master had put them in, yet his own bowl remained clear broth.
Once, passing by his room, I overheard him muttering to himself:
"Alas, in this world, what use is martial arts alone? I can't even support my own child."
My elder martial brothers, like me, were all found by Master outside. When I was five, Eldest Martial Brother was already seventeen.
Eldest Martial Brother was a good person, though a bit petty. When Master wasn't around, he would pick up that whip and force us to practice martial arts and study.
Every meal, he would save half a flatbread and place it in a clay pot in the ancestral hall. When hungry, he would secretly take a bite.
Later, Second and Third Martial Brothers and I caught him. While he was in the latrine, we each took a bite and finished it.
That afternoon, we heard Eldest Martial Brother crying sadly in the ancestral hall.
Master asked him what was wrong, but he lied, saying:
"I just stubbed my toe on the incense burner."
Later, feeling guilty, Second and Third Martial Brothers and I sneaked to the orchard at the foot of the mountain, stole a few unripe, small fruits, and put them into the clay pot.
However, Master discovered it the next day.
Master questioned us:
"Who put these here?"
Eldest Martial Brother was the first to step forward and admit it.
When Master was about to punish him, the three of us also stepped forward and confessed that the fruits were stolen by the three of us.
That was the first time Master lost his temper.
I still remember Master's angry face then, as he roared at us:
"A person must be upright. How can you steal from others? Didn't I teach you this? Even in poverty, one's spirit should not be broken. Poverty is no excuse for theft."
That was the first time I was beaten, not for anything else, but for stealing. Yet, we endured it without a sound, and didn't argue back as we usually would.
The next day, Master went down the mountain very early and only returned in the evening, carrying half a bag of fruits for us.
We were overjoyed, but it was after that incident that we never saw the treasured sword in Master's room again.
I admired Fourth Martial Brother the most, because, besides Master, he was the only one who could understand those ancient books. He would often tell us stories from them.
Master said that Fourth Martial Brother was the most talented, and if he had been born in a different era, he might have become the top scholar.
We curiously asked:
"What is a top scholar? Is it delicious?"
Just as Master was about to answer, Third Martial Brother interjected, asking:
"Is it tastier than braised pork?"
I still remember Master's speechless and helpless expression.
It is said that Third Martial Brother was encountered by Master on the day Master returned from guarding a household, with two silver dollars in his pocket. Seeing Third Martial Brother, who was as thin as a monkey, he treated him to a meal of braised pork.
Later, when Third Martial Brother returned to the martial arts school with Master, braised pork became the best thing in his mind, bar none.
Although he never ate it again after that, as the only one among the martial brothers who had tasted braised pork, he boasted about it for many years, often bragging to us.
Sixth Martial Brother and Fifth Martial Brother were twins. Like me, they were abandoned shortly after birth. The only difference was that their parents left them at the entrance of the martial arts school.
Although the two martial brothers were twins, their hobbies and personalities differed.
Sixth Martial Brother liked various foreign things, such as cameras and foreign guns. He would spend his time drawing messy diagrams indoors, claiming he wanted to build a four-wheeled vehicle.
Fifth Martial Brother was fond of swordsmanship. He hoped to become a chivalrous hero like Master in the future, drawing his sword to help those in need. Therefore, he practiced martial arts the most diligently.
Second Martial Brother was six years older than me. His greatest dream was to become like the immortals in stories, able to fly through the sky and burrow through the earth, cleaving mountains with a single sword. He even asked Master how to achieve immortality.
When Master was pestered, he would reply:
"If I knew how to become an immortal, would I still be toiling away here?"
Every time he heard this, Third Martial Brother would be quiet for a few days, then resume asking the same question, repeating the cycle endlessly.
Second and Third Martial Brothers were the closest to me. They were very mischievous and were often punished by Master. However, whenever I was present, they could escape punishment.
In their words:
"This brat, he might just be Master's son!"
But they only said such things in private.
I always thought my future days would be spent like this in the martial arts school, growing old together.
Until later.
When I was sixteen years old.
War began in the villages below the mountain. Many wounded soldiers were sent to the martial arts school. The already small school couldn't accommodate them all, so the courtyard and the slopes were filled with wounded soldiers in various states of suffering.
Master was constantly busy collecting herbs and saving lives, while my elder martial brothers and I boiled medicine for them daily.
We used our meager rations to make bowls of porridge, so thick one could see their reflection in it, and brought it to them.
Later, many still died and were buried in the forest behind the martial arts school.
It was from that time on that I never saw Master smile again.
Many days later, one night, Master did not return until very late. All of us martial brothers gathered together, too worried to sleep.
It wasn't until the middle of the night that Master returned. We saw him covered in blood, staggering.
We rushed to ask Master what had happened.
Master sat in his chair for a long time before finally speaking:
"The Cai Family Town not far from the foot of the mountain was massacred by the devils. By the time I arrived, it was too late. There were dismembered bodies everywhere. These damned beasts! They didn't even spare newborn babies."
Master had ambushed and killed a few lone devil soldiers along the way before returning here.
The blood on him was not his own; it belonged to those devils.
For the next three days, Master confined himself to his room, not eating or drinking. We were very worried about his health.
And on the morning of the third day.
Master pushed open the door and woke us, asking us to gather in the main hall.
Master led us to offer incense to the ancestral master, loudly reciting:
"Ancestral Master, I, Qiu Qingshan, implore all past ancestral masters. The devils, in their wickedness, have invaded our Great Xia, occupied our land, and massacred our people. Both gods and men are outraged!"
"Although I am but a mere martial man, my heart to serve the country and die for a just cause is unyielding. Today, I have decided to lead my disciples down the mountain to resist the war. We will not return until the devils are driven out of Great Xia. If we fail, we shall perish gloriously."
"I hope the ancestral masters will not blame me. When I return, I shall further promote the martial arts school."
Subsequently.
Master led us to participate in the war of resistance.
For two years of resistance, I fought from sixteen to eighteen. Fifth Martial Brother, who loved practicing martial arts the most, had one of his hands broken. Eldest Martial Brother lost an eye. Everyone bore injuries to varying degrees.
The only fortunate thing was that although we were injured, at least we were still alive and could joke with each other.
And when I was eighteen years old.
During a planned raid on a devil stronghold.
Master said to me:
"Zhixing, you are the youngest. Master wants you to go back first and guard the martial arts school. You've been away for two years, and it's time someone went back to reopen the school, to clear the dust for the ancestral masters. It'll be fine; we'll be back!"
No matter how foolish I was, I knew how dangerous this raid was. How could I go back alone?
I cried and knelt, begging Master to take me with him. Although I was young, I had killed many devils. I was not afraid of death!
Master stroked my head and said:
"Silly child, I know you're not afraid of death. But what about the martial arts school if you don't go back? Who will guard it? I promised the ancestral masters that I would return and reorganize the school."
He patted my shoulder:
"Don't worry! We'll be back after we drive away the devils. I still have to teach you martial arts and calligraphy."
My elder martial brothers also hugged me, their faces filled with tears, and said goodbye reluctantly. They all comforted me, saying they would be back soon and would bring me plenty of good food, like braised pork, and make me new clothes.
I returned to the martial arts school alone.
Before leaving.
I had prayed to the heavens, begging:
"Heaven, I don't believe in ghosts or gods, nor do I believe in you. But this time, please, please protect Master and my six elder martial brothers safely."
"If you can keep my Master and my six elder martial brothers safe, I am willing to exchange my life for theirs. Please, Heaven, open your eyes. I truly don't want my... father, my brothers to die."
Every day, I cleaned the martial arts school and practiced martial arts and calligraphy. Every day, I sat on the large stone in front of the door waiting for them to return...
But this wait lasted for over eighty years! Master and my six elder martial brothers never returned.
I remember when I was thirty-one years old.
Some soldiers Master had saved years ago came to visit. They told me that Master and the others had become great generals. They secured some money for me and brought me a large piece of meat, as promised, to bring me braised pork.
I used that money to repair the martial arts school, but I dared not change anything drastically, keeping it as it was, for fear that Master might not like it if it looked different.
The remaining money I donated to the primary school at the foot of the mountain, hoping more children could read and write, to contribute to Great Xia, and to prevent Great Xia from suffering hunger again.
Finally, I grew old.
But I never left the martial arts school. For eighty years, even after I married and had children, I never stepped out of my home.
Because I was afraid.
Afraid that if I just left, what if Master and the others returned? They wouldn't be able to find me.
...
At this moment.
As Old Master Qiu narrated, Zhang Wei sat quietly and listened.
Old Master Qiu looked up, gazing blankly at the white clouds in the sky, as if returning to the skies of the past.
He murmured:
"I remember Sixth Martial Brother asked Master why we practice martial arts."
"Master said, to strengthen the body."
"Sixth Martial Brother also asked, is practicing martial arts only for strengthening the body? That's not very useful."
"Master said, it is useful. It will be useful when necessary, just like now. Practicing martial arts... can protect the family and the country."
In his words.
Old Master Qiu's eyes reddened as he thought of something:
"Master, brothers, it's been nearly ninety years. When will you return after protecting the country? I miss you all so much."
...