Volume One: At the Foot of Mount Zhongnan Chapter Eighteen: The Young Warriors? This Is the Foundation of My Future Retinue

Since Li Xuanba and Zhou Jian had come to an agreement, the very next day they organized the able-bodied men and children of the village. There were only a dozen or so old soldiers who had fought alongside Zhou Jian in his younger days, and a few youths who had recently grown up, making a total of twenty-five or twenty-six. They gathered in small groups, carrying hunting forks and spears, with machetes and hatchets slung at their sides.

The children in the village were few as well—altogether less than thirty. After discounting the infants still nursing and the girls, only seventeen or eighteen were fit for training, their ages ranging from three or four up to eight or nine. In ancient times, people married young; though men were considered adults at twenty and women at fifteen, in the countryside, it was common for boys and girls as young as twelve or thirteen to wed and bear children, already seen as half-grown. At that age, girls would help with household chores, while boys accompanied their fathers in farming and hunting. Thus, the group of children gathered here were all under ten years old; those older than ten practiced martial arts with the adults.

Li Mingyu led the village children, watching as the adults, under Li Xuanba’s guidance, drilled their martial skills. The children had already been instructed by their elders and, with all the grown-ups present, behaved obediently.

Li Mingyu observed for a while, gaining some understanding of ancient methods of military training. The drills were simple, limited by numbers and weapons, focusing on discipline, formation changes, defensive circular formations, and offensive wedge formations. With Zhou Jian and the old soldiers forming the backbone, the group was already showing signs of a proper unit.

After a while, Mingyu realized that, given the limitations, there would be nothing novel to see, so he gestured to the children and said, “Let’s go. We’ll train on the open ground outside the village.”

Most of the children had been restless, but with their parents nearby, dared not misbehave. Now, hearing they could leave, they rushed out in a swarm. Only Zhou Jian’s son, Zhou Daniu, and a handful of younger children, who knew Mingyu’s prowess and always listened to him, stayed behind. Mingyu wasn’t bothered, and took these few, strolling leisurely toward the open field.

When they arrived, the other children were already there, in a noisy, disorderly group—some playing, some digging for ants, and some so tired they lay on the ground, ready for a nap.

Li Mingyu cleared his throat, drawing their attention, and said, “You must have heard your elders’ instructions. You are all registered disciples of my master. From today, I will teach you the basics on his behalf. I am your senior brother.”

Two eight- or nine-year-old boys immediately protested, both taller than Mingyu. One, named Zhao Erhu, complained, “Why should you be our senior brother? You’re just a little squirt.”

“Right, you should call us senior brother instead!” his brother Zhao Sanhu chimed in. The two were twins, originally three brothers: the eldest, Dahuu; Erhu; and Sanhu. The eldest had died young, leaving only the two, who were pampered as treasures and had become ringleaders among the children.

Li Mingyu frowned and replied, “Did you not hear your fathers? I am to teach you on behalf of the master. The first to enter the school is senior, so naturally I am your senior brother.”

Zhao Erhu retorted, “I did hear my father say so, but the teacher also said, ‘The strong are respected.’ My father always said, ‘Whoever has the biggest fists gets to call the shots!’”

Mingyu was just fretting over how to establish his authority when the brothers delivered themselves right to him, suiting his purpose perfectly. He asked, “So you want to compete with me?”

Zhao Erhu grinned, “Of course. If I beat you, I’ll be the senior brother!”

Mingyu said no more, his face darkening. “Come on, then!”

Zhao Erhu shouted and lunged, reaching out to grab Mingyu. Though Mingyu, now over four, was the size of an ordinary five- or six-year-old, he was still a head shorter than the eight-year-old Erhu. As Erhu pounced, Mingyu could have dispatched him in five or six different ways, but he thought, If I don’t win cleanly, others might remain unconvinced, and I’ll fail to demonstrate my family’s skills! So he let Erhu grab him, then placed his hands on Erhu’s arms, exerted strength, and with a shout, threw Erhu to the ground.

Sanhu, seeing his brother thrown, refused to submit. He charged from behind, fist raised. But Mingyu was ready; he turned and delivered a side kick right into Sanhu’s belly. Pain flashed through him, and a powerful force sent him tumbling.

Erhu was just getting up, stubbornly charging again, while Sanhu scrambled to join him. The two, untrained in martial arts, simply flailed as children do, usually dominating fights with their size and coordination. But against Mingyu, they were no match.

Mingyu dodged Erhu’s punch, seized his wrist, and twisted down. Erhu felt as if a pair of iron pincers had clamped his wrist, pain shooting through his arm and draining his strength. Sanhu arrived, aiming a punch at Mingyu’s head. Mingyu blocked with his free hand, twisted Sanhu’s arm, locked his shoulder, and pressed down, sending him sprawling. Then, Mingyu lifted Erhu overhead and threw him onto Sanhu, who was just getting up. The two brothers collided and rolled on the ground, thoroughly defeated.

Mingyu, arms crossed, asked, “Well? Are you convinced now? If not, come again!”

The brothers, now realizing Mingyu’s skill, had been subdued in just a few moves. They waved their hands hurriedly, “No more, we give up.”

Mingyu, seeing them admit defeat, turned to the other children, “Anyone else unconvinced?”

The others, having seen him dispatch the Zhao brothers as easily as tossing chickens, had no thought of resisting. “We’re all convinced.”

“Good,” Mingyu nodded. “Since you acknowledge me as your senior, I will teach you wholeheartedly. But if anyone disobeys, don’t expect me to show mercy!”

The children chimed in, “We’ll always listen to you, senior brother.” “Whatever you say goes.” “We’ll behave.”

Their responses were uneven, which annoyed Mingyu. He raised his brows, “Answer in unison! And from now on, call me big brother!”

“Yes! We will always obey big brother!” the children replied together.

Having served in the army in his previous life, Mingyu knew that training required both kindness and authority—the carrot and the stick, a principle as true in ancient times as today. Having established his dominance, it was time for rewards. Mingyu whistled, and from the trees, Xiaohei emerged, dragging a wild boar from the forest.

He had known that martial training would drain the children’s energy and had sent Xiaohei out early to hunt something to replenish them. Xiaohei, highly intelligent, understood Mingyu’s wishes well. As king of beasts, it had no trouble catching a wild boar or deer, but out of habit, it waited for Mingyu’s signal before eating, standing patiently in the thicket until called.