Chapter 58 — Family Rules
Bai Rongjiu said, “I only found out about the car rental business while playing cards. In the past two years, Hong’er has started taking over some of her aunt’s business. She’s young, but she has a certain vision and courage. A little experience won’t hurt her.”
Cao Yunzhao asked, “Last time I heard your grandfather instructed you to have someone by your side. Were you going to choose her? I thought the student you brought from Heihe, what’s his name… Bai Mingyu, was the one you intended to train. How come, after all, it’s back on Hong’er?”
Bai Rongjiu smiled. “Hong’er is indeed good, but her aunt needs her more. I’m only giving a little help.”
Cao Yunzhao clicked his tongue. “You really treat this little girl well. Now I understand why you agreed so readily to come to this gathering—it was specifically to support her.”
Bai Rongjiu leaned back in his rattan chair, eyes closed. “The Bai family has rules.” He paused for a moment and then said softly, “For anyone in our clan, filial piety, loyalty, and honesty are fundamental. Respect your ancestors, conduct yourself well without fault, and the family’s reputation will flourish.”
Cao Yunzhao asked, “So?”
Bai Rongjiu: “So, the Bai family never puts all its eggs in one basket. The one I help is not her aunt, nor Hong’er—it is the Bai family itself.”
Cao Yunzhao muttered to himself for a while, “I don’t like hearing this. You keep talking about family above all else. I always hated that about you Bai people—no humanity at all. You’re fine now, but already looking for a successor?”
Bai Rongjiu chuckled quietly beside him without replying.
Cao Yunzhao hesitated, studying his old friend carefully. He didn’t see any signs of a serious illness, though Master Bai Jiu’s skin was paler than usual, and he seemed more sensitive to cold; otherwise, he appeared perfectly normal. Leaning closer, he asked tentatively, “Your grandfather has only you as a grandson. He wouldn’t treat you the same way, would he?”
Bai Rongjiu closed his eyes and lightly smiled: “He treats me the same.”
Cao Yunzhao panicked. “No way, Bai Rongjiu, we’ve been brothers for so many years! As kids, we literally shared the same pants. Be honest with me… you’re already looking for the next heir, that can’t be… bad, right?” His gaze dropped, full of worry.
Bai Rongjiu opened his eyes slightly and kicked him: “Get lost. You’re not the one.”
On the third-floor balcony, Cao Yunzhao tried half-jokingly to coax Bai Rongjiu, but got nothing except two kicks.
Meanwhile, Xie Jing went to find Zhang Huwei.
Zhang Huwei had been waiting early in the morning. Seeing Xie Jing, he didn’t waste time and took him to meet a master at a martial arts school halfway up the mountain.
This master, surnamed Wang, was called Wang Chunjiang. He looked to be in his fifties, with graying hair and beard, and of average height. At first glance, he didn’t appear as robust as other martial arts masters, but with his sleeves rolled up, his exposed bronze-colored arms were lean, strong, and powerful.
Zhang Huwei introduced them and said to Xie Jing, “Since the beginning of the year, Lord Bai Jiu instructed me to find someone suitable to teach you. There are many talented people in the provincial government, but after thinking, only Master Wang is the right fit. He specializes in the soft whip and knows some other techniques. You’ll train with him for a few days to get familiar. If you’re compatible, he’ll continue teaching you martial arts, while I’ll handle your gun training.”
Xie Jing replied with a nod, bowed to Wang Chunjiang, and addressed him as “Teacher.”
Though older, Wang Chunjiang had sharp eyes and ears. He studied Xie Jing from head to toe. Judging by his attire, it was hard to tell his background. If he were a young master from a wealthy household, he would have seemed too humble; if he were ordinary, he wouldn’t have worn such fine clothes—a Western-style shirt and trousers, very different from local attire.
Wang Chunjiang was cautious, so he treated Xie Jing politely and didn’t reveal all his techniques. He specialized in soft weapons, which required considerable strength to master. He doubted this young “little master” could endure rigorous training.
But Xie Jing didn’t care about Wang Chunjiang’s thoughts. He called him “Teacher” and genuinely intended to learn.
In his past life, he had studied some hand-to-hand techniques from a martial student in the opera troupe, coincidentally also using a soft whip. This time, Wang’s teaching was extremely fast for him.
Wang Chunjiang noticed and, after two days of training, checked his bones and joints. His expression mirrored Zhang Huwei’s initial reaction—surprise and delight—and he praised Xie Jing repeatedly: “Good! No wonder Zhang Huwei insisted I come personally. You’re truly a talented young man! Xie Jing, if you study diligently, I will teach you everything I know. I have no other demands, only that a century later, someone will still remember my skills.”
Wang Chunjiang’s school focused on external martial arts. A naturally flexible student like Xie Jing was rare; one willing to endure hardship was even rarer.
At first, Wang Chunjiang worried that Xie Jing might overexert himself and get discouraged. But after a few days on the mountain, he saw that Xie Jing would push himself relentlessly without complaint, like a flexible bamboo bent to the limit but refusing to break. Given even a brief rest, he would immediately straighten up again.
Wang Chunjiang gradually increased the difficulty to test Xie Jing. He had him roll walnuts to strike a gong ten meters away, with no limit on repetitions.
Only because Wang Chunjiang noticed Xie Jing’s arms beginning to tremble did he tell him to stop; otherwise, the boy would have continued.
Wang Chunjiang’s face darkened as he shouted, “Put the whip down and rest for fifteen minutes!”
Xie Jing finally sat on a tree stump, wiping sweat from his face, yet more sweat trickled down his chin.
Wang Chunjiang’s anger softened into concern. He handed Xie Jing a water bottle. “You foolish child, why don’t you call out when tired? I’m teaching skills, not ending your life. At this rate, will your hands even survive?”
Xie Jing slowly tugged at his collar and whispered hoarsely, “Uncle Wang, it’s fine. I’m just hot. I can keep going.”
Wang Chunjiang, normally strict, said, “Rest now. No rush.”
Xie Jing’s arms ached and he was drenched in sweat, yet he felt fulfilled. “It’s okay. I know my limits. If I can’t handle it, I’ll tell you.”
Wang Chunjiang said, puzzled, “You push yourself too hard.”
Xie Jing smiled, “Perhaps… I’m afraid of dying.”
“Afraid of dying?”
“Mm. I want to learn as much as I can to protect myself. It will come in handy someday.”
Though smiling, his eyes remained serious. He looked down at the ground; the grass had been trampled, revealing dark soil. Sweat fell and disappeared instantly, like his effort—small, yet unwavering.
The Bai family had endured for centuries because of one principle.
Their family rule, when translated, essentially told descendants not to pin all hopes on a single person.
Thus, even the extraordinary Master Bai Jiu would not be the only one.
Master Bai Jiu always knew this. Even when seriously ill, he remained calm, negotiating with enemies and protecting his family, though no one saw the blood he coughed onto a silk handkerchief late at night.
Master Bai Jiu once joked that someday, someone might need to rely on him.
Xie Jing felt a pang of sorrow. He didn’t want to hear it, nor could he bear it.
In his previous life, it had been this way.
Master Bai Jiu could die, but the Bai family’s foundation had to be preserved.
By replacing the leader, the family could endure the storm and continue, finding another path to survive.
Xie Jing wiped the sweat from his brow, stood up, stretched, and continued practicing.
He couldn’t do much yet, but each move was carefully planned. He intended to master every skill, old and new, bit by bit, to become Master Bai Jiu’s right hand.
During their few days on the mountain, while others rested, Xie Jing trained tirelessly.
Bai Mingyu searched for him for two days. From afar, he was startled by a walnut thrown at him. He shouted from a distance, “Xie— I’m leaving now! Remember! Go back and celebrate my birthday! Do you hear me?!”
Only when Xie Jing responded from afar did Bai Mingyu leave, reassured.
Xie Jing stayed on the mountain for a few more days with Master Bai Jiu before returning to the East Courtyard.
Afterward, his days were busy. By day, he was either training martial arts with Wang Chunjiang or learning firearms from Zhang Huwei, only returning at night.
Xie Jing’s skin was fair; even after a day in the sun, it did not tan, only reddened with slight peeling on his cheeks.
Seeing this, Master Bai sent over an ointment for him.
The ointment smelled slightly sweet like honey. Xie Jing sniffed and looked at the container—it was semi-transparent, resembling a large piece of soft honey.
Master Bai Jiu used a cotton ball dampened with water to apply ointment to the other side. Xie Jing let out a soft hiss.
Master Bai Jiu asked, “Does it hurt?”
Xie Jing nodded, kneeling on the bed and looking at him eagerly.
Master Bai Jiu continued, calmly, “You need to learn a lesson. You ran wild for several days. Have you had enough fun?”
Xie Jing shook his head slightly, trying to please him: “Master, will you watch me practice shooting tomorrow? Today I hunted three wild rabbits and a golden pheasant. The rabbits were fat, over ten pounds each…” Seeing Master Bai Jiu’s expression, he quickly added, “I’ll skin the rabbits tomorrow and make collars for you. Once I have enough, I’ll make winter clothes too.”
Master Bai Jiu pinched his nose. Xie Jing, puzzled, whispered with a nasal tone, “Master, did I say something wrong?”
“No. Your mouth is sweet, and you know how to coax, but your intentions aren’t pure.”
“Ah?”
“You just wanted to run off and play. That must be punished.”
Master Bai Jiu let go, observing him for a moment: “Tomorrow, you’ll copy books in the study. You’re not allowed to go anywhere else. I will personally supervise you. Don’t even think about slacking off.”
Xie Jing agreed without begging.
Master Bai Jiu glanced at him, feeling slightly relieved. He wasn’t sure if Xie Jing asked to ride out again, whether he would relent.
Recently, he’d been unusually soft-hearted, easily irritated, unable to control his emotions.
Watching the child look out the window, waiting and hoping, always softened his heart.
This was a new kind of conflict for him, a bittersweet feeling he had never experienced. It was like having something close at hand that could run away, yet always returned each night, leaving a lingering sense of unease.
At night, Xie Jing habitually slept at the foot of Master Bai’s bed.
Master Bai kept reading but could not focus on a single word.
He looked up at Xie Jing, who had spent the day riding and hunting. Now, the young boy slept soundly, thin and slight, wearing loose sleep pants tied at the narrow waist, revealing pale skin. The pant legs were rolled up, ankles clearly defined, one foot tucked under the other, legs curled, only neatly trimmed toenails visible.
Xie Jing, always sensitive to heat, had a light sweat on his forehead.
Master Bai did not cover him with a blanket, only watching for a while before slowly looking away.
