Chapter 57: Fluctuation
That night, the new house at the village head extinguished its lamps early.
The next morning during training, the newlywed Bian Shulan did not show up.
Mao Hongling had dark circles under her eyes, and the other young wives were the same, clearly having not slept well that night.
Pei Qinghe pretended not to notice, leading the crowd in training with a calm expression. As usual, they ran two laps along the wasteland. The desolate and barren land had been trampled into a path by the more than two hundred Pei Clan women who trained there every day without fail.
After the run, the crowd was either panting for breath or with flushed faces and foreheads covered in sweat.
Pei Qinghe was calm and composed, leading everyone to practice martial arts and punch on a clearing. This clearing was near the mountain forest, with a small river nearby, hidden and quiet, very suitable as a training ground.
“Pei Feng, horse stance steady, look at Pei Xuan.”
Pei Feng hated hearing those last four words the most, tightening his handsome little face, eyes straight ahead, horse stance steady as a rock.
Pei Xuan beamed happily at the praise.
The children practiced horse stance to build their bodies. Pei Yan, Pei Yun, and other young girls practiced punching in groups.
Pei Qinghe turned around, patiently instructing how to punch and exert force, and had Pei Yan spar with her to demonstrate for everyone.
No matter how fierce Pei Yan was, she didn’t want to be a punching bag every day: “I’ve gotten beaten several times already. Today it should be Cousin Sister Yun’s turn.”
Pei Yun knew she was no match for Pei Qinghe, but she wasn’t scared at all, immediately stepping forward: “Today I’ll spar with Cousin Sister Qinghe.”
Pei Qinghe raised an eyebrow and smiled: “Everyone spread out.”
The Pei Clan girls tacitly spread out and formed a circle.
Pei Qinghe made an inviting gesture, and Pei Yun didn’t hold back, quickly stepping forward to punch. Pei Qinghe dodged with a flash, her left leg shooting out like lightning in a flying kick. Pei Yun was prepared, backflipping to evade. In mid-air, she punched, clashing right against Pei Qinghe’s right fist.
Bang bang bang bang! Their figures moved like the wind, punches swift, the two graceful silhouettes constantly shifting.
Pei Yun took a punch, her figure swaying, but she didn’t make a sound, continuing to swing fists in attack. Pei Qinghe never held back in sparring, and in no time, Pei Yun’s left leg was kicked, causing her to stagger a step.
“Good!” Pei Yan shouted at the top of her lungs, waving her fists nonstop: “Cousin Sister Qinghe, great hit!”
With Pei Yan leading, the other girls followed, cheering loudly.
All of Pei Clan bloodline, growing up together rolling and tumbling in the training ground. Through life and death together, blood and sweat intermingled. The bond between them could no longer be simply described as deep.
Moments later, Pei Yun finally retreated, unable to hold on: “I admit defeat!”
Pei Qinghe smiled and praised: “Cousin Sister Yun lasted fifty moves against me today, much stronger than Pei Yan.”
Amid laughter, Pei Yan argued vigorously: “Last time I lasted over forty moves, Cousin Sister Yun is at most just a little stronger than me, how is that much stronger?”
Pei Qinghe glanced smilingly at Pei Yan: “How did you last those forty-plus moves? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten! One moment begging for mercy, one moment playing dirty, one moment acting pitiful—a mouth much stronger than your fists.”
Pei Yan had skin thick as a city wall: “That was psychological warfare from the Thirty-Six Stratagems.”
“More like the begging for mercy stratagem.”
The girls burst into laughter.
The hearty laughter carried on the wind to the other side of the training ground.
The Pei Clan wives were already distracted and absent-minded, frequently turning their heads to look back.
Mao Hongling frowned, saying gravely: “Everyone, focus your spirit on practicing punches. Qinghe will be over soon.”
At the mention of Pei Qinghe, the Pei Clan wives immediately became serious, their punching suddenly much more earnest.
No wonder they were distracted today.
Yesterday they had witnessed Bian Shulan marrying a son-in-law with their own eyes. That night, there was no embarrassing commotion from the thatched hut, yet they tossed and turned like pancakes in a hot pan, nearly fried.
Take Mao Hongling for example: she and her deceased husband had been a young couple, deeply in love. But Pei Erlang’s head had already been chopped off, and even if the Pei Clan one day cleared their name and made a comeback, her husband would forever remain buried underground, never to return.
She was only twenty-one, in the prime of youth—did she really have to live as a widow for life?
Xu Shi had abandoned Little Yu’er and run away. She scorned and could never do such heartless behavior. She had to raise her son and live on properly. After observing three years of husband’s mourning period, perhaps…
“Qinghe is coming.”
Mao Hongling quickly refocused, punching seriously. The young wife sparring with her reacted a beat slow, her face swept by the fist wind, crying out in pain.
Getting some superficial injuries during punch practice was common. Mao Hongling showed no mercy, her fists still whistling through the air. The young wife retreated step by step.
Pei Qinghe flashed forward lightly, catching Mao Hongling’s punch effortlessly.
The young wife quickly retreated, covering her left cheek with her sleeve, gasping in cold pain.
“Focus on practicing punches, don’t get distracted.” Another Pei Clan wife reminded in a low voice: “You know Qinghe’s temper—if she catches you, you’ll get a scolding at least.”
Look at Mao Hongling, Pei Qinghe’s own second sister-in-law, still got beaten for being absent-minded.
Mao Hongling soon fell behind, retreating steadily, looking very disheveled. Pei Qinghe showed no intention of stopping, delivering a flying kick. Mao Hongling couldn’t dodge in time and was swept, falling down. Pei Qinghe reached out and pulled Mao Hongling up. Mao Hongling’s face flushed red, using the pull to leap back up.
Pei Qinghe glanced at her: “Be single-minded, fully devoted to training.”
Mao Hongling’s face was flushed, unsure if from exhaustion or shame: “I was distracted just now.”
Pei Qinghe smiled: “People aren’t wood, getting occasionally distracted is inevitable.”
Occasionally was the key word.
Mao Hongling naturally understood, nodding silently.
……
At noon, those training, farming, and reading all ate together.
Bian Shulan didn’t get up until the sun was high, and even on wedding leave, she wasn’t idle, voluntarily helping in the kitchen to cook.
Steamer baskets piled high with mixed flour steamed buns steamed with hot vapor. Bian Shulan’s face was unusually rosy from the steam.
Zhao Hai ladled vegetable soup for everyone, dark circles under his eyes, yawning from time to time.
The Pei Clan women were mostly reserved, inwardly mocking, internally complaining, or envious, but managed to keep straight faces. The women who had come down from Black Bear Stockade were much more direct.
“Gu Lian, can we really marry a son-in-law in the future?” One woman’s face shone brightly.
Gu Lian hummed: “Something Sixth Sister promised, what is there to worry about.” She pursed her lips: “After suffering so much in the mountains, you still have the mind to find a man.”
That woman replied awkwardly: “Not that urgent, at least wait a year or two.”
Pei Jia and Pei Yi’s envy was written all over their faces.
Fang Datou had been a soldier for over a decade, rough in nature, speaking without restraint, loudly mocking Zhao Hai: “You’re really useless, coming out of the new house so quickly. When I have a wife later, the wedding chamber will last three days and nights.”
Zhao Hai didn’t indulge him: “With your stinking habits, who would want you.”
Amid the laughter, Fang Datou flew into a rage from embarrassment, glaring fiercely.
Doctor Bao held his bowl, head down eating heartily, his peripheral vision always glancing toward Pei Qinghe.
Pei Qinghe stood up to return to the house, and Doctor Bao immediately chased after.
