One Hundred and Ten, Grand Opening

By the time the afternoon had passed, Old Tong and Uncle Yang still had not found anyone among those they had met who seemed to have any real aptitude for martial arts. The people they encountered were either too old or lacking in health, and for the moment, no suitable candidate had come into view.

Faced with such a situation, Zhang Xuan could only say that half a day was hardly enough time and that the road ahead was still long. If they truly could not meet anyone suitable, then so be it; such things could not be forced. Nor could they lower their standards. Although Zhang Xuan had once said that under proper circumstances they could relax their requirements a little, he had now changed his mind. In moments like these, it was better to be selective than to settle for lesser choices. After all, in Zhang Xuan's vision, these people would play a major role over a very long stretch of the future.

That night, after Zhang Xuan, Yang Zaixing, Yuwen Chengdu, and the others had finished sparring and completed the day's training, everyone gathered again to discuss the matter of selecting people. Was their judgment too exacting, making it impossible to choose anyone? Or should they simply pick a few first and let the rest be sorted out through competition along the way? They discussed it for a long time, but in the end they did not come to any real conclusion. So the final decision was to take one step at a time and trust that fate had simply not arrived yet.

During the discussion, however, Uncle Yang raised an idea: might there be a group behind these refugees, controlling them? For instance, perhaps the refugees were organized, with divisions of labor and people issuing orders. Those commands could come from refugees themselves, or from someone else entirely. It was only a speculative thought, though, and they did not pursue it further.

The next day, Old Tong and Uncle Yang continued their work of looking over the refugees and choosing people. Compared with the day before, they were fortunate enough to select two brothers. Both Old Tong and Uncle Yang thought they were quite good and likely had the making of martial artists. Zhang Xuan had originally prepared a whole speech to persuade them, but the two brothers asked only one question: would they be fed? As long as they were given food, they were willing to do anything. Zhang Xuan nodded and promised that they would be fed, and the brothers agreed to travel with them.

Once the brothers had agreed, Zhang Xuan himself was left staring blankly for a moment. In the end, it was Tong Fei who tugged at his sleeve, and only then did he recover.

"Zheng Chao," Zhang Xuan said, addressing the elder brother, "you said you came from the north because of the war. Were there others who fled here with you? Or do you have any way of contacting one another?"

Zhang Xuan had suddenly remembered what Uncle Yang had said the night before about whether the refugees might have some sort of organization among them.

Zheng Chao thought for a moment. "When we were still together, the older people in the village looked after us. But later, some went to seek refuge with relatives, and some found work at wealthy households. The people from our village who left with us gradually became fewer and fewer as we walked, until in the end we all scattered. My younger brother and I had originally planned to work for one of the rich families too, but they saw that we were too young and did not want us. So we had no choice but to beg our way here. If luck was good, we could sometimes find a little leftover food to eat. Big brother, really, as long as you feed us, that's enough. Tell us to do anything, and we will do it."

As he spoke, Zheng Chao pulled his younger brother Zheng Jian along and made the promise to Zhang Xuan. The two brothers had not eaten anything decent in many days. In recent days, aside from bark and grass roots, they had not had anything else at all.

"Um, don't call me big brother," Zhang Xuan said. "Just call me Zhang Xuan. For now, stay with us. Along the way, I will test the two of you. If you pass the test, then you'll follow me from then on. If you don't, then I'm sorry, but I'll give you some dry rations and we part ways there. You agreed so quickly just now that I didn't get a chance to explain. Do you understand now?"

Clearly, Zhang Xuan had already formed his own plans and ideas about the people he had chosen this time.

"Test? What is a test?" Zheng Chao asked in confusion.

At that moment, Old Tong, Uncle Yang, Yang Zaixing, and the others also gathered around, clearly very interested in what Zhang Xuan meant by a test.

"Let me explain simply," Zhang Xuan said. "We are going to a place very far from here. Aside from traveling normally, I will give you some tasks along the way. As long as you complete the tasks I assign, you will have passed the test. That's all there is to it. As for what the tasks will be, I will decide them when the time comes. I'm telling you in advance so that when you encounter them later, you won't be at a loss for what to do. And don't worry, these tasks won't be difficult, and I won't ask you to do anything like cheating, stealing, murdering, or arson. Do you understand?"

He explained it in the simplest terms possible. If they still could not understand, then there was nothing he could do.

Zheng Chao and Zheng Jian seemed to grasp it, and both nodded. Zhang Xuan looked at them nodding, but he did not care whether they had truly understood. In any case, when it came time to assign tasks, he would certainly need to explain them again, and perhaps even demonstrate them himself.

With that thought, he gave them a little dry ration.

Zheng Chao and Zheng Jian accepted it, thanked him, and then devoured it in great gulps. They really had not eaten anything like proper rations for many days. Everyone watching the brothers eat felt a little heartbroken.