Martial Arts Master

Lou Cheng laid his phone down and began thinking about the calls he had received in the past few days. Something didn’t feel right. Then he realized what was amiss— the Wuyue Club and the Ice God Sect hadn’t contacted him!

Did Master ward them off, or had they silently consented to the way things are developing?

Shaking his head, Lou Cheng chuckled. Without investing more thought into the matter, he continued his important task of moving, travelling back and forth with the rented minivan. He was the main source of labor on that day; he could lift a large marble dining table, which normally required 4 people to carry, with a single hand. Lou Zhisheng and Qi Fang kept gushing over the benefits of practicing kung-fu. Lou Yuanwei and “Erzi” Lou Yuanzhang, who came to help, were afraid that they would get in Lou Cheng’s way, so they only carried small items while duly performing their roles as cheerleaders, chanting “Amazing!”

When it was nearing noon, Lou Cheng stepped back into his old house, to see if he’d left anything behind.

The living room was half empty, and heaps of miscellaneous items were spread across out in a mess. The cabinet was missing, and so was the television, single sofa and coffee table that had been in use for years…

When he looked at it, Lou Cheng felt a tinge of melancholy. It was an indescribable feeling— as though he was about to leave his home. To him, everything around the new house was foreign, and inside it was unfamiliar as well. This place, on the other hand, had been his home for ten-plus years, a place filled with memories, a place he knew so well it was as though the knowledge was carved on his bones. This was home to him.

Sigh… He breathed and circled the living room, nostalgic as he inspected and relived memories at the same time.

He stopped at the doorstep of the master bedroom and peered inside— the closet and desk were gone. All that was left were rags that Mom finally decided to throw out.

Scanning the vacant room, Lou Cheng remembered the large mottled bed coated in red paint. A complicated look settled on his face. The bed was a dowry that came along with Mom and accompanied her through her entire marriage, and witnessed his own birth and growth, from learning his first words to cramming for exams.

During the time his parents got married, resources weren’t abundant, and being born to a provincial family, Mom naturally didn’t have much to offer as dowry. Therefore, the well-rounded Grandpa found some logs and hand-crafted the bed, along with other furniture, which they used until this day.

After taking a deep glance, Lou Cheng walked to the entrance of his own room. Since there was a king-sized bed— fit for two— and a sofa bed at the new house, the bed he once used quietly resided in its place, just like how it had for all these years, but the desk beside it, bookshelf and closet across from it had already been moved.

He remembered his rambunctious childhood. He remembered the time when he was a teenager, furtively reading novels below sheets at night, illuminated by a desk lamp; that was the period when his eyesight worsened. He remembered his time as a youth, sleeping until late afternoon during the holidays. He remembered the scene where Yan Zheke laid there as sunlight streamed across the room. He remembered the period of his growth, when he charged forward with determination and excitement. For a moment, Lou Cheng could not bear the thought of parting with the place. The house felt like an old friend to him.

It was as though he was bidding farewell to a childhood friend who grew up beside him.

How he wanted to bring “him” to the new house too…

Lou Cheng took out his phone, snapped a shot of his memories, and sent it to Yan Zheke before she slept.

“It feels as if I’m suddenly homeless…[melancholic sigh]” he wrote.

His past was going to be erased.

“Aww…*pats head*. Looking back, when I moved to where I am living now, I felt bad for a long time too. Well, actually, it only took me two weeks to come to terms and get used to the new environment…[Tears of Joy]” Yan Zheke replied. “With Mom and Dad beside me, it soon felt like home again.”

“You are right,” replied Lou Cheng. Carelessly picking up a few old books which he’d abandoned earlier, he scanned the room one last time, and gently shut the door. He bid farewell to the home that will only exist in his memories from now on.

Coming out of the elevator, he stepped into his new house, then took a shower to get rid of the sweat and dust and changed out of his mucky clothes.

He rubbed a hand across his hair in the steamy bathroom. When he passed by the kitchen, he heard his dad chatting with Grandpa, Grandma, Erzi and his elder cousin, and saw his mom busy preparing the dishes.

According to Xiushan’s tradition, on the first day of moving to a new house, one had to invite his friends and family over for a home-cooked feast.

“Why go through such troubles, Mom? Why can’t we just reserve two tables at a restaurant?” Lou Cheng said disapprovingly, leaning at the entrance of the kitchen.

Qi Fang shot him a dirty look. It didn’t matter to her that he was now the Heavenly Son of China.

“How can ‘nuandu’ (stove warming; a tradition) not be done at home?” she chided.

“Mom. When it comes to traditions, we should only follow the ones that are convenient to us. Not putting our own interests first is just feudal and superstitious,” Lou Cheng persisted.

“You are the superstitious one!” Qi Fang raised her voice. Then in a gentler tone said, “There aren’t that many people today, just some relatives from both sides.”

“Okay, okay. Let me help you then Mom,” Lou Cheng said as he walked into the kitchen and put on an apron.

“You, helping me? Shoo, shoo, go out there and talk to your Grandpa and the others. Don’t get in my way here. Your granny and the rest will come and help me out later,” Qi Fang said dismissively, waving her hand in distaste, as if she was chasing off flies.

Even my biological mother doesn’t… Lou Cheng dashed to the chopping board. “Mom, I cooked up many meals when I was in America. Plus, someone who practices kungfu can’t be bad at knife work,” he insisted.

“Really?” Qi Fang murmured as she laid the kitchen knife down, then watched in astonishment and disbelief as her son expertly worked the knife, slicing and dicing through vegetables and meat.

Not bad at all, she praised secretly. But that wasn’t her main concern. Without hiding her curiosity, she asked, “You two really make your own meals in America? Were you the one in charge?”

Lou Cheng thought for a moment. “Normally, I’m only in charge of chopping the vegetables. Keke does the cooking.”

Qi Fang smiled and nodded approvingly. “Seems like you two have been living well. But remember, when it comes to dishes that give off a lot of cooking fumes, you have to take the initiative to make them, don’t let Zheke be the one making them…”

She nagged non-stop.

“Mhm, I’ll watch and learn from you later!” Lou Cheng replied without pausing on his hands. The dull thuds resounded in the room.

After a while, when he had chopped up most of the ingredients needed and saw that the counter was full, he paused to spectate his Mom’s cooking.

He snapped a shot and sent it to Ke, with the caption “Learning how to cook!”.

“Miss the food at your house…” Yan Zheke replied, lying in bed after freshening up, felt a little hungry.

After watching for a few minutes, Lou Cheng volunteered to make his best dish— stir-fried beef. He handed his phone over to Qi Fang, and said, “Mom, help me take a video later. Press and hold this button to record. Yes, that’s the one. When you release your finger, it will automatically stop recording.”

“Seriously? What’s there to record…?” Qi Fang mumbled as she pointed the phone camera at her son.

She couldn’t understand what youngsters were thinking these days— why take a video of yourself cooking?

“You can press it now, Mom,” instructed Lou Cheng as he poured the beef slices into the oil and began stir-frying.

After throwing the garnish in, he intended to show off his skills, so he held the wok in one hand and tossed its content like a chef. Not only that, he controlled his strength with the utmost precision, tossing the beef slices into different shapes, or letting them fly in the air before falling back into the wok…

After setting the aromatic dish onto a plate, Lou Cheng took back his phone from his mom, who stood dumbfounded, and sent the video to Yan Zheke.

Soon, she replied, “I have never seen seeing someone with this much time on his hands… [sitting down with a blank face]”

What the heck was that ostentatious style of cooking?

By then, Qi Fang was herself again. Irritated, she shoved her son out of the kitchen.

“Shoo, shoo! Go play by yourself!”

So unappreciative… Lou Cheng shrugged, shaking his head in amusement. He walked towards the living room.

At that moment, he suddenly bore a little approval for the place to be his new home.

After Lou Cheng’s second uncle, second aunt and granny arrived to help out in the kitchen, they finally managed to get the “nuandu jiu” (stove-warming wine) ready before 1PM. There were many guests, so they were split to two groups. The first group— people who relished drinking— used the dining room, and the second group— people who took more joy in eating— settled at a coffee table, with sofas and chairs and stools around it.

As the owner of the house, Lou Zhisheng was the first to propose a toast, after which everyone expressed their congratulations on moving into a new home.

Once they were full of meat and alcohol, they split up and spent a merry afternoon on various activities— Mahjong, Gongzhu, Dou Dizhu, Chinese chess, and online games.

After dinner, Lou Cheng’s sober uncle drove back and forth to send Grandpa and the others home. His grandparents from Ningshui were to stay in the guest bedroom. Qi Yunfei and Chen Xiaoxiao took the side bedroom. Aunt Qi Yan and uncle Chen Wenguo were assigned the partitioned study, where sofa beds were available.

That left Lou Cheng staring at the foreign sofa in the living room. He was speechless for a long time.

“First night in the new house, and I end up as the “living room master” once again… [covers face while sighing]” he texted his wife.

Yan Zheke replied with three letters.

“LOL”

…

On October 3rd, training went on as usual for Lou Cheng. In his spare time, he hung out at Qin Rui’s dojo.

At night, he went back to Songcheng on high-speed rail; the martial arts club was to resume special training on the following morning.

At 8AM the next day, inside the Songcheng University martial arts dojo, the special training squad— which had expanded to 20-plus members— finally got to meet Coach Lou, who had been away for a long time. Some people were reduced to tears as they took pictures and uploaded them to their Talk-talk, Weibo and Moments.

After warming up, Lou Cheng, with his hands crossed behind his back, made everyone come out to demonstrate a set of kungfu. At the end, he said,

“Senior brother Li Mu, Talker, He Zi, and Da Li— you four are qualified enough to attend the professional ranking event at the end of October. Jin Lu and Jin Nian, you will go along with them. You might not be able to pass, but it will be a good learning experience nonetheless.”

As for the rookie, Deng Yang, he had already attained a professional Ninth Pin certification even before enrolling into university.

Eighth Pin Dan Stage, on the other hand, was not something that could be rushed. Patience was the key.