Dongting Immortal Clan

Old Zhang had lived in Baiyu Village for over twenty years. He didn't have much of a relationship with the Chen family, but they weren't exactly strangers either.

Uncle Zhang.

"I'd like to learn some martial arts from you!"

Chen Changhe bowed slightly and got straight to the point.

Old Zhang didn't reply. He casually pulled out his pipe from behind his waist, tapped the ash on the stone block, then took out his tobacco pouch and slowly filled it with tobacco.

I struck a match, lit it, and took two puffs.

The smoke slowly drifted out of my nostrils and dissipated quickly in the cold wind.

Chen Changhe stood there patiently waiting.

Old Zhang smoked half a pipe of tobacco before slowly speaking:

"What's the point of learning martial arts? You fishermen won't need it."

"Things have been getting tense on the lake lately."

"I want to learn some kung fu to protect my family."

Chen Changhe spoke softly; he had already prepared his excuse.

Old Zhang glanced at him, his gaze scrutinizing. He had spent most of his life as a镖师 (bodyguard/escort) and had seen countless people. He could guess eight or nine parts of a person's thoughts just by looking into their eyes.

Chen Changhe's eyes looked clean, but they weren't as innocent as those of an ordinary young man. They carried a strange, untamed energy, which he kept hidden and showed a bit of cunning.

After sizing up the two brothers for a while, Old Zhang, holding his pipe, said calmly:

"This skill of mine wasn't something I could learn in a day or two."

"How long do you plan to study with me?"

"Learn enough to be useful."

"Is that enough?"

Old Zhang suddenly chuckled, a soft laugh tinged with contempt.

"What does 'enough' mean?"

"Is one enough? Or is ten enough?"

"If I can protect my family from being bullied, that's enough," Chen Changhe said firmly, bowing with his hands clasped.

"It's not easy to stay on the lake these days. There are fewer and fewer fish, and life is getting harder and harder. If you know some martial arts, you might be able to find a job in the city."

He paused, looked up at Old Zhang, his eyes filled with earnestness and youthful stubbornness.

"If Uncle Zhang can teach me, I can do all the chores like chopping wood, carrying water, and sweeping the yard. I can even get a fish delivered to my house every day."

"You think you can learn kung fu from me with just this?"

After listening, Old Zhang chuckled and shook his head. He took the pipe out of his mouth, tapped it on the chair leg, and ash fell in a flurry.

"not enough!"

"Not nearly enough!"

Upon hearing this, Chen Changhe's heart sank. Before coming, he had already considered that asking for favors was never going to be smooth sailing. After a moment of silence, he raised his head, his voice slightly more agitated than before, and said:

"What will it take for Uncle Zhang to teach me martial arts?"

Old Zhang didn't answer immediately.

He tucked the pipe back into his waistband, put his hands behind his back, and looked Chen Changhe up and down.

His gaze was unhurried, as if he were weighing the object.

After looking at it for a long while, he finally spoke slowly:

"I know your family's situation; you're dirt poor, and you definitely can't afford the tuition."

"Since I have no money, I can only rely on relationships. I have no children and have been lonely for decades. I have no intention of taking on disciples to pass on my mantle."

"If you truly wish to learn martial arts, then acknowledge me as your godfather and take care of me in my old age until my death, and I will agree to this."

Upon hearing this, Chen Dajiang's expression changed. He tugged at Chen Changhe's sleeve and lowered his voice:

"Second son."

"We should go back and discuss this with Father again. Recognizing relatives is no small matter; Father's approval is necessary."

Old Zhang stood with his hands behind his back, not stopping them, his face expressionless. His gaze was fixed on the distant Dongting Lake, where mist rose from the gray water and several egrets circled low in the sky.

Chen Changhe stood there, his mind churning with thoughts.

Old Zhang's words were somewhat unexpected; the other party didn't want to take him as an apprentice, but instead wanted to recognize him as their adopted son.

In this day and age, having a godfather is no small matter. Not only must one be cared for in old age and seen off in death, but one must also bear the consequences. If Old Zhang has any grudges or debts, the other party can use this relationship to trace it back to Chen Changhe.

Seeing Chen Changhe hesitate, Old Zhang shook his head and was about to bend down to scoop the fish out of the bucket.

But then Chen Changhe suddenly shook off his elder brother's arm, bent his knees, and knelt straight down in front of him.

The mud was hard and painful, making his knees ache, but Chen Changhe didn't even flinch. He bent down and slammed his forehead heavily on the ground.

"Godfather, please accept my three bows!"

Old Zhang stood with his hands behind his back, not stopping them.

On his first bow, Chen Changhe's forehead struck the ground with a dull thud.

During his second bow, he thought of his mother, her small, frail figure when she was bedridden.

If she were still alive, would she blame herself?

I must get those few acres of paddy fields back.

During his third bow, Chen Changhe thought of his father, Chen Chuansheng.

Since he mastered the Heart Fire technique and guided Qi into his body, his father rarely scolded him anymore.

He was determined to practice martial arts.

I believe Dad will understand.

After bowing three times, Chen Changhe straightened up, his forehead covered in mud, his eyes slightly red, but his back was ramrod straight.

"good!"

Seeing Chen Changhe's decisiveness, Old Zhang grinned and spoke in a booming voice, completely different from his previous slow and leisurely manner.

He bent down, patted Chen Changhe's shoulder with his large, fan-like hand, the force neither too light nor too heavy, and smiled:

"Get up, Erlang."

He didn't call him "Changhe" or "Chen Jia Lao Er," but "Erlang."

The moment he uttered those two words, it was as if he had acknowledged Chen Changhe as his adopted son. Although the two were not related by blood, they would be more like father and son from now on, becoming family.

Chen Changhe was helped up by his older brother. He didn't even brush the mud off his knees. He just stood there, looking at the lame old man in front of him.

The old man's eyes were not large, but they were very bright, like arrows that could pierce the heart.

"Go back and tell your father."

Old Zhang sat back down on the stone stool, picked up the unfinished basket, and his fingers began to fly across the paper again, saying as he worked:

"Make good preparations. We will hold the family recognition ceremony on the second day of the second lunar month. We cannot skip any of the proper rituals."

"Yes, Godfather."

Chen Changhe responded respectfully.

Chen Dajiang stood to the side, opened his mouth as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Looking at the mud stains on his younger brother's forehead and his slightly reddened eyes, he suddenly realized that his younger brother was different from before.

It's not that I've grown taller or stronger, but rather that I've gained a certain "maturity" and become more assertive in my actions.

On the way back, the two brothers walked one after the other.

The wind on the lake embankment was still so strong, it hurt people's faces.

Chen Dajiang walked ahead for a while, then suddenly stopped and looked back at his younger brother.

"Are you really sure?"

"What about Dad..."

"I'll talk to Dad."

Chen Changhe's voice was calm, "Brother, don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

Chen Dajiang looked at him for a while, nodded, turned around and continued walking forward. After a few steps, he left out a sentence, his voice broken by the wind, but Chen Changhe heard it clearly.

What my older brother said is—

"If that old man is willing to pass on his real skills to you, I will treat him like family."

Chen Changhe paused for a moment, then a slight smile appeared on his lips as he quickened his pace to catch up with his older brother.

The two walked side by side on the lake embankment, one tall and one short, their shadows stretched long by the thin winter sun, extending all the way to the gray surface of Dongting Lake.

……

When the two returned home, Chen Xiaohu was the only one inside.

"Where is Dad?" Chen Changhe asked.

"Still on the lake, haven't returned yet."

Chen Xiaohu closed the book in his hand and responded.

Chen Dajiang glanced at the kitchen, where medicine to dispel cold was still being simmered on the stove, and asked in confusion:

"What is Father going to do on the lake?"

Chen Xiaohu pouted, shook his head, and sighed:

"He wanted to see if he could catch a few more spirit clams, and if he could get some more gold pearls, maybe he could help my second brother and me get rid of our wooden bodies sooner."

"There's no way I'm that lucky. I've gone there so many times before, and I've never gotten anything."

Chen Dajiang turned around, his face darkening, and was about to leave.

"You're not fully recovered yet, and you're already going to the lake to get some fresh air. Aren't you afraid of developing a chronic illness? I'll go look for it on the lake."

"I'll go too," Chen Changhe said.

For some reason, he felt a strange unease. It was almost noon, and there weren't many fish in winter. His father shouldn't have been gone for so long.

Moreover, things haven't been peaceful on the lake lately...

Suddenly, Chen Changhe's eyelids twitched, his expression changed drastically, and he said in a terrified voice:

"Oh no! Father is in danger!"

After cultivating the fire in his heart, Chen Changhe gained a new kind of spiritual awareness. Although it was not yet at the level of "the cicada knowing the autumn wind before it arrives," it still had some divine ability to seek good fortune and avoid misfortune.

A spiritual practitioner doesn't act on a whim. If their spiritual awareness is giving them a warning, then nine times out of ten something is about to happen!

Before Chen Dajiang could react, Chen Changhe had already run out of the yard and headed towards the lake.

Chen Dajiang's expression also changed. He followed closely behind and, when he reached the door, he didn't forget to give instructions to Chen Xiaohu.

"Stay home and lock the door!"