Chapter 057: Zhao Yun Accepts a Disciple (Third Update, Please Vote for Three Rivers)

Chapter 57: Zhao Yun Accepts a Disciple (Third Update—Seeking Recommendations)

After months of long-distance running and a steady supply of nutritious food, Wei Ba’s body had improved remarkably, allowing him to begin training in martial arts. Just as Dun Wu had said, he was too old to master the profound depths of martial skill, but with diligent effort, he could still become a skilled fighter in his own right. Thus, he devoted himself wholeheartedly, spending an hour every day in arduous practice. He began with basic fist techniques and later, like Wei Wu, started training in the Wei family’s woodcutting saber method.

However, to his great frustration, the saber technique was nothing like he’d imagined. In his past life, he’d often heard people speak of ‘a month with the staff, a year with the saber, and a lifetime with the spear’ and thought saber techniques would be simple. Yet, it truly felt like just chopping wood, and no matter how he practiced, he couldn’t find the right flow. Compared to Wei Wu, he lagged far behind. Every time they trained together, he felt deeply discouraged. If not for his new, steadfast mindset, he might have given up already.

Early in the morning, after Wei Wu had easily completed his thousand saber strikes, he happily cradled a bowl of porridge, squatting nearby to watch Wei Ba, who was sweating profusely and counting out each stroke: “Three hundred and three, three hundred and four, three hundred and five…” Wei Wu couldn’t help but grin, his mouth wide. “Brother, there’s no need to count. Just watch the sun—before the tree’s shadow touches the wall, you’ll never finish a thousand strikes.”

“Shut up!” Wei Ba snapped angrily. “Save some for me! If you finish all the meat porridge, just wait and see how I’ll deal with you.”

“Hehe, don’t worry, I’ll save you some.” Wei Wu slurped two big mouthfuls of porridge, then grabbed a large flatbread and took a bite. Chewing, he mumbled, “Brother, I’m lucky to have you. Father is really investing to help you get stronger—meat and eggs every day! Big Brother and I never had this kind of treatment before.”

As he spoke, he cracked an egg against his bowl. With just a slight movement of his fingers, the shell peeled off perfectly. He tossed the egg into the air, craned his neck, caught it in his mouth, and with a swallow, it disappeared.

“So you know you’re benefitting from me, but you still sit there mocking me?” Wei Ba couldn’t help but worry as he witnessed the spectacle with the egg. He’d seen Wei Wu do this countless times, but still feared one day the glutton would choke on a whole egg.

“I wasn’t mocking you, just stating the facts.” Wei Wu bowed his head sheepishly, quickly finishing his porridge.

“Don’t you know the truth can wound even more?” Wei Ba gasped for breath, his arms leaden, barely able to lift them. Yet he refused to stop with half his task unfinished.

Wei Wu finished his porridge and took the cloth from Peng Xiaoyu to wipe his mouth, frowning as he glanced at the pale-faced Wei Ba. “Brother, take a break. Martial arts aren’t mastered in a day, and overexertion only leads to injury.”

“No. If I cut one less stroke today, tomorrow it’ll be two less, and the day after, a hundred less.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Gritting his teeth, Wei Ba declared, “If you can master it, why can’t I?”

“Perhaps not.” Zhao Guang approached just then, picking up Wei Ba’s words. He smiled and greeted Wei Wu, nodded cordially to Peng Xiaoyu as she saluted, then stepped before Wei Ba and lightly placed a hand on his right wrist. Though the gesture seemed light, Wei Ba found himself unable to move. “Rest a bit. Martial skill isn’t mastered in a day—it must be approached step by step.”

Wei Ba was perceptive and knew when to advance and retreat, leaving a good impression on Zhuge Liang. Zhuge Qiao, having easily completed his own tasks, often came by to chat with Wei Ba, usually bringing friends—sometimes Guan Xing and Zhang Bao, other times Zhang Wei and Feng Jin, but most often Zhao Guang.

Zhao Guang spoke little, always smiling gently, never arrogant like the sons of other noble families. Wei Ba liked Zhao Guang, and over time, the two became close friends. With Zhuge Qiao away escorting supplies these days, Zhao Guang occasionally visited on his own.

“What do you mean? Are you saying I’m not suited for martial arts?” Wei Ba asked.

“I never said that.” Zhao Guang kept smiling. “I’m just saying you might not be suited for the Wei family’s saber technique.”

“I’m a Wei, so if I’m not suited for our family’s saber, should I learn the Zhao family’s spear instead?” In later generations, people spoke of Zhao Yun as the “White Horse, Silver Spear,” but at this time, the most common long weapons were the spear and halberd; the term “spear” as it would be known later did not yet exist. Still, the spear was much like the later weapon, just with a longer, heavier head, making it even harder to master.

“You could say that.” Zhao Guang led Wei Ba aside, and Peng Xiaoyu came up to wipe Wei Ba’s sweat with a damp cloth. She worked diligently, cleaning even his neck and underarms before handing him a cup of hot water and another to Zhao Guang. Zhao Guang took a sip, turned to Wei Ba, and said, “The saber relies on overwhelming force—sweeping all before you. The foundation is raw strength. Without enough strength, no matter how hard you train, results will be limited. The spear is different—it’s about directness and precision, striking at the heart, not contesting brute strength. If you’re using strength to wield a spear, you’re not practicing spear technique but staff technique.”

Wei Ba blinked; Zhao Guang’s words seemed to make sense.

“Furthermore, what martial art one practices depends on their nature. Wei Wu is bold and forthright, perfectly suited for the fearless saber technique, and has the stamina to support it. He could fight for half a day on the battlefield without tiring, but you couldn’t. Not because you’re not diligent, but because you lack the foundation he built from childhood.”

Wei Ba felt a wave of disappointment and slumped down, head hanging. Zhao Guang was Zhao Yun’s son, and Zhao Yun was said to be the most unfathomable general in Shu-Han; he couldn’t be wrong. So, does this mean I’ll never master martial arts?

“But you, brother Wei, are a planner, striking at the vital point at the moment of opportunity. Such a nature isn’t suited for the saber, but it is for the spear.”

“Train with the spear?” Wei Ba gave a wry smile. “Are you going to teach me?”

Zhao Guang shook his head, smiling. “I’m not qualified to teach you.”

“Then what’s the point?” Wei Ba didn’t think much of it. In these times, martial techniques were family heirlooms, guarded as closely as scholars’ secrets. Wei Yan’s saber technique wasn’t taught to outsiders—even the elite of the Wei family’s soldiers didn’t know it in full. Only Wei Feng had learned it completely; even Wei Wu hadn’t, and whether he ever would was uncertain. The Zhao family's spear technique was likewise a treasured inheritance. To ask to learn it would be highly inappropriate.

Zhao Guang sat down on the stool Peng Xiaoyu brought, silently regarding Wei Ba with a smile. Wei Ba felt uneasy under his gaze, and rolled his eyes, annoyed. “Zhongde, why are you looking at me like that? Do I have a flower on my face?”

“There’s no flower, but there’s jade beneath the surface.” Zhao Guang shook his head.

“Jade beneath the surface” referred to uncut jade encased in rock. Wei Ba understood the metaphor, but not Zhao Guang’s intent. Was he being polite, or was he sincere? If it was just formality, why say it so earnestly? But if he meant it, why say he wasn’t qualified to teach?

Wait—he’s not qualified, but someone else is. Could it be…? Suddenly, Wei Ba was overcome with excitement, all fatigue forgotten. He jerked his head up, his face flushed and voice trembling. “Zhongjian, are you saying General Zhao…is willing…?” He was so agitated he couldn’t finish, afraid Zhao Guang would dash his hopes with a shake of the head.

Zhao Guang lowered his gaze, then looked up again with a gentle smile. “That’s right. My father thinks highly of you and wishes to meet you. However, for him to instruct you personally depends not just on his willingness, but also on whether the General Who Guards the North agrees.”

“How could he not agree?” Wei Ba leapt up, excitement suffusing his face. He gripped Zhao Guang’s shoulders and shook him enthusiastically, dragging him off. “Zhongde, come with me! I’ll go ask my father right now. Xiaoyu, prepare a gift—I’m going to formally request to become a disciple! Ha ha ha…”

Watching Wei Ba drag Zhao Guang stumbling and rushing off, Wei Wu exchanged a glance with Peng Xiaoyu and shrugged. Peng Xiaoyu was beaming, wiping her hands on her apron as she bustled about, muttering, “Oh my, General Zhao is willing to take the young lord as a disciple. This is a tremendous honor—we can’t give just any ordinary gift. What would be suitable? I don’t have anything precious enough here…”

“Silly girl, for something this important, the gift isn’t for you to prepare.” Wei Wu couldn’t help but laugh. “Father will take care of it. All you need to do is lay out two sets of good clothes for my brother so he can look presentable when he meets General Zhao.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right. I’m so happy I got confused!” Peng Xiaoyu paused, realization dawning, and couldn’t help but laugh aloud, holding her forehead.

—Still seeking your recommendations!