Chapter 17

Zhao Jin was taken aback, truly unaccustomed to this. After a fight in his previous life, the nursery aunt and teachers would always criticize him severely, saying that fighting was wrong. Now, it was quite the opposite; he was actually told to run when faced with a crowd. This wasn't a reprimand; it was clearly advice on how to fight.

However, not being scolded was a good thing. Zhao Jin felt very relaxed and returned with Zhao Zhenxing. They hadn't walked far when Zhao Zhenxing turned back with a smile and said, "Play a bit longer at noon. It's too stuffy to come here every day to practice martial arts."

Uncle's attitude was like this, and he continued practicing martial arts in the afternoon. However, trouble came when he returned home in the evening. As soon as he entered the courtyard, the monkey started to screech loudly. Normally, the monkey ignored Zhao Jin when he entered or left the courtyard, but today it reacted strongly.

He Cuihua, who was preparing dinner, came out curiously. By the light of the kitchen fire, she examined Zhao Jin closely and immediately noticed the bloodstains on his clothes. He Cuihua's reaction was the same as any mother's; she immediately panicked.

"How could you fight with others?"

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"It's all because of learning martial arts. You used to be such a well-behaved child."

Zhao Jin felt incredibly awkward but was also touched. This kind of maternal love and concern was something he had never experienced before. Seeing his mother's worry, Zhao Jin felt guilty and a bit afraid. With a strict father and a kind mother, he wondered if his father, Zhao Zhentang, would fly into a rage when he returned.

Not long after, Zhao Zhentang came back. The monkey, always fawning over the head of the household, jumped down from the wooden frame to greet him.

He Cuihua hurriedly told Zhao Zhentang about the blood on Zhao Jin's clothes. Zhao Jin stood there with his head down, preparing to be scolded or even beaten. However, to his surprise, Zhao Zhentang said calmly, "I've already heard from Zhenxing. It's nothing for boys to fight. It's better to hit than to be hit."

With that, He Cuihua had nothing to say. She wiped her hands on her apron, went into the house to serve the food, and kept muttering, "It's the family tradition. You two brothers were always causing trouble and fighting. I thought I had raised a well-behaved child, but it turned out like this."

Not being scolded for fighting, and even receiving some implicit praise, made Zhao Jin feel very good. He immediately relaxed.

Feeling better, his appetite improved, and Zhao Jin enjoyed his meal. However, Zhao Zhentang and He Cuihua were not focused on dinner. Zhao Zhentang took out a fist-sized bag from his chest and threw it on the table with a dull thud, indicating that the bag was heavy.

He Cuihua took the small bag and opened it, saying in surprise, "Why is there so little this month? And there are copper coins?"

Every evening, He Cuihua would warm a pot of wine for Zhao Zhentang. After drinking a cup, Zhao Zhentang said in a low voice, "There are fewer shops in the city, and we can't collect much money. The magistrate is about to leave office, so everyone has to give up some of their shares."

"Aren't the ones outside the city the main source?"

"Once the Jia River opens, they all go to Pizhou!"

Zhao Jin understood some of what they were saying. The magistrate they mentioned was probably the Prefect of Xuzhou, and the talk about inside and outside the city likely referred to the gray income of the constables.

Zhao Jin was happily gnawing on a piece of lamb bone, feeling very satisfied. He had no interest in the adults' conversation. He felt very happy, focusing on practicing martial arts and playing happily.

Zhao Zhentang and He Cuihua were in low spirits, but it had nothing to do with Zhao Jin. After dinner, Zhao Jin did some push-ups and sit-ups in his room, changed his clothes, washed up briefly, and went to bed.

Although Zhao Jin had gradually adapted to the high-intensity training, it didn't mean he wasn't tired. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

Today was really good. He had beaten Liu Yong, and the group of kids from Nanguan used to bully him and mock him. It felt great. Moreover, his father and uncle didn't scold him; they even seemed to praise him a bit. The mutton soup tonight was delicious, and he could go to the cargo yard tomorrow to play. He would give Chen Sheng an idea, and it would definitely make him stand out...

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, Zhao Jin suddenly woke up, sitting up in bed with wide eyes and a head full of cold sweat.

The room was pitch black, with only a sliver of candlelight seeping through the door crack. Zhao Zhentang and He Cuihua were whispering in the main hall, unaware of Zhao Jin's distress.

Zhao Jin didn't call his parents. He just sat there, dazed. He wasn't having a nightmare or experiencing any terrifying hallucinations. He was suddenly startled because he had thought of something.

It had been less than twenty days since he came to this era, but Zhao Jin felt like he was already a part of it. Many things from his previous life were slowly fading away, even forgotten.

Was he going to live like this for the rest of his life? Although he was learning martial arts to strengthen his body, if things continued as they were, he would only become a strong man, inheriting his father's role as an executioner and constable, living a comfortable but unremarkable life.

And then what? Zhao Jin asked himself. Was he going to live a plain and uneventful life?

In his previous life, he had worked his way up from the bottom to the middle level, with a good chance of becoming a vice president. A life full of struggle and effort had been cut short by a serious illness.

But that life had been full of struggle and effort, and he had shone. What about this life? Was he going to grow up and live a plain and uneventful life, just a slightly better constable?

Life is too short to be lived so plainly! Sitting on the bed, Zhao Jin clenched his fists. Given a second chance, he couldn't just give up. He had to seize his fate, make himself strong, shine, and leave his name in history!

Zhao Jin took a deep breath. In his previous life, he had been too tired, never resting. The warmth of family had made him relax involuntarily, almost assimilating into this life. But this wasn't the life he wanted.

Lying on the pillow, Zhao Jin felt his thoughts stabilize. He knew what he had to do. Setting a goal for his life, the vague unease in his heart dissipated.

The knowledge and experience from his previous life were precious wealth. The books his friends read to him on his sickbed were invaluable. Now, he needed to recall them carefully and remember them well.

Thinking about this, Zhao Jin scolded himself. He had already forgotten quite a bit, which was like discarding a large fortune.

The next day, the Zhao family had already gotten used to Zhao Jin's early morning runs. Zhao Zhentang had adjusted his schedule to get up with Zhao Jin. He would sometimes chop at a wooden post with a ghost-head knife or stand at the door watching Zhao Jin run laps.

However, when Zhao Jin came out to greet Zhao Zhentang this morning, he startled him. Zhao Jin's eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like he hadn't slept well. But Zhao Jin didn't say anything, and Zhao Zhentang didn't bother to ask.

At breakfast, He Cuihua noticed Zhao Jin's tired appearance and scolded him out of concern, saying that he hadn't slept well because of the fight. She said that a well-behaved child would sleep soundly and eat well. Zhao Jin could only listen and eat, as he hadn't slept well because he had been racking his brain to recall things.

After breakfast, Zhao Jin put down his bowl. He Cuihua was already cleaning up. Zhao Jin hesitated for a moment and then said, "Mother, I want to take the milk pastries out with me."

These pastries were bought by He Cuihua to supplement Zhao Jin's diet, in case he got hungry while practicing martial arts. There were four left. Hearing this, He Cuihua nodded and said casually, "If you want to eat them, take them. Remember to share with Xiao Lan, don't eat them all yourself."

"Mother, I want to buy more to take out," Zhao Jin continued.

Taking pastries out to eat was normal, but buying more confused his parents. He Cuihua stopped cleaning and asked, "What do you want to eat? Xiao Lan eats little, and your uncle doesn't eat these. Why do you need so many?"

At this point, even Zhao Zhentang, who was about to leave, turned around, curious to hear Zhao Jin's reason.

As a child, it was hard to do things. Convincing his parents was no easy task. After a few complaints in his heart, Zhao Jin continued, "I'm not taking them for myself. I want to give them to someone else."