Chapter Ninety-Three: Two Refugees

On the day when Chen Ding'an and Chen Hao went to the Shaolin Monastery to visit the old master, Dong Jianuo was pacing back and forth inside the Dong family compound, also located in Song Mountain.

As he walked, he muttered to himself, "This Chen Ding'an said he'd be here today, and it's already this late. Why is he still not here? After all these years, he still hasn't shaken that habit of being late!"

There was another person in the courtyard with him, naturally his daughter, the little girl named Dong Xin. At that time, Dong Xin was only ten years old, an age of pure innocence and carefree delight.

Her attire had a distinctly Japanese comic-book feel to it, yet with the flavor of a Chinese girl: a small red qipao-style dress, a pair of cloth shoes on her feet, and a perfectly round bun tied atop her head. One glance was enough to make anyone like this adorable little girl.

Hearing her father's words, the little girl looked a little impatient. "Oh, Father, what time is it? It's only a little past eight in the morning. Even if they weren't late, there's no way they'd arrive this early!

"Don't you know how hard the mountain road is? Even in daylight, it takes four or five hours to make that trip. Uncle Chen couldn't possibly have set out in the middle of the night, could he? Besides, this time he's bringing his son along. He has to look after the child on the road, so of course they can't get here so quickly!"

Dong Jianuo walked up to his daughter, crouched down, and patted her head. "Girl, don't underestimate that child. I've heard that Chen Ding'an's son is a rare martial arts prodigy. Countless masters across the country have already witnessed his skill. Though he is still young, his future accomplishments are beyond measure.

"Many young experts have already fallen at that child's hands. When you two spar today, you must not be careless."

Dong Xin, however, seemed unconvinced. "Father, you're worrying too much. He's just a child not even ten years old. No matter how gifted he is, he's only been training for so many years. The achievements he can have now are still limited. Those so-called masters, in my view, are nothing but hollow names. They've simply never seen a true genius.

"And Father, you never take me out to visit anyone. If you could bring me around to the martial arts families across the country the way Uncle Chen does, perhaps they'd say I was the real number one genius."

At his daughter's confident words, Dong Jianuo merely chuckled. Though he knew such pride might not be good for her growth, on the other hand, as someone who practiced martial arts, she ought to possess this very confidence.

If one grows timid before the fight begins, or lacks confidence in oneself, then the contest is already half lost. Besides, to be frank, everything he knew about Chen Ding'an's son had come only from friends in the martial world; he had never seen the boy himself. And those people had never seen what his own daughter could do either. After seeing her, they might no longer speak so highly of Chen Ding'an's son.

There was another point as well: even if Chen Ding'an's son truly was formidable, what of it? Since ancient times, literature has had no first place, and martial arts no second. Until two people have fought, no one can know who is above whom.

A martial contest is not determined solely by who has greater talent. Physical condition, performance under pressure, and many other factors all decide the outcome. If one could judge the result merely by glancing at someone, then what would be the point of a contest at all?

Besides, even if they lost, so what? It would only be a spar between two children. Dong Jianuo truly did not care much about winning or losing. If they won, of course that would be ideal, a chance to slap those who favored Chen Hao squarely in the face.

And if they lost, then so what? His daughter would hardly be the first child to lose to Chen Hao. Adding one more would not be any disgrace. When he was young, wasn't he the same in his bouts with Dong Jianuo? Lose this time, and win it back next time. And even in defeat, there was another benefit.

For as long as his daughter had been praised by him without pause, she had indeed become exceptionally outstanding. At her age, he certainly had not possessed such ability. And since a daughter is her father's little padded jacket, he inevitably indulged her a little too much. All along, he had raised her with encouragement and praise.

Growing up in such an environment, Dong Xin was bound to develop some arrogance. If she lost this match, it would be the perfect chance to teach her that there is always a higher mountain beyond the mountain, and a greater sky beyond the sky. That would be of help to her future martial path.

So Dong Jianuo did not contradict his daughter's words. Instead, he smiled with deep meaning. "I have confidence in you. In today's match, do your utmost. Let others see that even a so-called genius youth remains a defeated opponent before my daughter."

"Father, rest assured! With me here, there is nothing to worry about. I will never bring shame to our Dong family!" Dong Xin replied brightly, full of confidence.

"Heh-heh." Dong Jianuo looked at his daughter with affection. "During today's spar, besides defeating Chen Ding'an's son, you must also carefully observe his martial style and figure it out as thoroughly as possible. This person will likely be an obstacle you can never avoid on your martial path in this lifetime..."

"Just like Uncle Chen and Father, you mean?" Dong Xin said, picking at her father's sore point.

"Ahem..." Dong Jianuo's expression turned a little awkward. "In any case, just remember what I said!"

"Mm! Father, your daughter remembers!" Dong Xin answered sweetly.

Dong Jianuo said no more and continued pacing the courtyard. In truth, his restless walking was not only because he had been waiting too anxiously for Chen Ding'an and the others; there was also a faint unease in his heart.

Though he had confidence in his daughter and some doubts about what his martial arts friends had said, he could not help fearing something else. He was not afraid his daughter would lose this match; he feared that she would spend her whole life losing.

This was all because for the past two days, whenever Dong Jianuo slept, he had been having the same dream. In that dream, Chen Ding'an's son not only defeated his daughter, but after beating her, he actually declared that he wanted to challenge Dong Jianuo himself.

By rights, he should never have sparred with a child, yet for some reason he had strangely agreed, and then he had somehow lost to Chen Ding'an's son as well.

And that son had mocked him with the words, "So the Dong family is only this much..."

Dong Jianuo had already lost count of how many times he had startled awake from that nightmare. He feared that what happened in the dream might become reality. Worse still, in real life, the scene seemed to be repeating itself just as in the dream.

I hope I'm only worrying too much, he comforted himself.

Meanwhile, Dong Xin had no idea of the strange anxiety in her father's heart. She was still playing in the courtyard, practicing a few sets of fist techniques, climbing a tree to catch birds, then running out of the yard to do who-knows-what. In any case, she never looked bored.

While she was playing outside, Dong Xin suddenly noticed two blurred figures appearing on the mountain path below, heading toward her home.

"Eh?" Dong Xin cried out in puzzlement. Could these two be Uncle Chen and his son?

But that did not seem likely. Although she had never met the boy who would spar with her, she had met Uncle Chen before. In her memory, whenever Uncle Chen came, he wore a proper and handsome suit, and his hair was always neatly slicked back with a glossy shine.

At first glance, he did not seem like a martial artist at all, but rather like a highly educated intellectual.

Later, after asking her father about it, Dong Xin learned that Uncle Chen had not only practiced martial arts since childhood, but was also said to have taken over the family business when he was still very young, making him a highly successful businessman.

When speaking of this, even her proud father would give a thumbs-up. Her father often said that although he and Chen Ding'an had fought each other over the years with wins and losses on both sides, deep down neither had ever truly conceded to the other; in truth, the two of them were at roughly the same level.

So in martial arts, even though Chen Ding'an had won more often, her father had never truly admired him for it.

But when it came to Chen Ding'an being a businessman, even her father sincerely said that was remarkable. At the very least, if it were her father himself, he knew he did not possess Chen Ding'an's abilities. As for martial arts alone, her father had already poured all his energy into them and truly had no spare attention for anything else.

Because of her father's influence, the little girl Dong Xin had also developed a certain admiration for Chen Ding'an. In her heart, Uncle Chen ought to have been that mighty, towering, wind-swept, handsome-uncle kind of figure.

But was the person before her still Uncle Chen?

One foot was bare, with nothing on it at all; the other wore a shoe, but the toe had torn open with a hole. Looking higher, Chen Ding'an still seemed to be wearing dress trousers, except that one pant leg had been cut away to the knee, leaving the kneecap exposed. The other leg had not been shortened, but the trouser leg was riddled with tears.

The shirt on his upper body was not quite so miserable and was still more or less intact, but it was covered all over in mud, as though he had rolled through a swamp.

As for his hair... Dong Xin did not even want to describe it. It was simply a nest of straw on his head. No—worse than straw. The clumps of hair stuck together by mud stood up on his head like little hills.

Then she looked at his son, the young man named Chen Hao. Though he still bore his father's handsome features and looked quite striking, all that remained on him now was a strip of cloth around his waist.

The two of them were like refugees fleeing disaster. Dong Xin stared in stunned silence as they approached and stopped before her. Only then could she finally be certain that she had not mistaken them: it really was Uncle Chen.

Before she could speak, Chen Ding'an said, "Girl Dong, it's been a long time..."