Chapter Three: A Drop of Kindness Repaid with a Spring

Fang Zheng left the pharmacy with the little girl, his worries now dispelled and his heart light with joy. Seeing that it was still early and many of the shops along the street remained open, he felt a sudden interest in strolling about. After getting the little girl's approval, the two of them made their way into the bustling street.

The pharmacy run by Doctor Shen stood at the street's entrance, and next to it was a blacksmith's shop. The sounds of hammering and shouts drifted out, suggesting the owner was still hard at work. This sight sparked an idea in Fang Zheng’s mind. Since he was not yet able to travel far, he would inevitably have to stay here for some time. Though he had a little silver left, living off his savings was no long-term solution. Besides, he wanted to help Madam Zhao and Yaya improve their lives, and what he had would never suffice.

Back when he was at Qingniu, Fang Zheng had learned archery from Zhang Qi for a spell. At first, he merely wished to emulate the ancient scholars, mastering the six gentlemanly arts, living as freely as the poet Li Bai, sword in hand and wine in heart. Now, he realized it could be a means of livelihood. He had never hunted before, but every skill could be learned. On his way here, he had often passed through forests and wildlands, finding the wildlife far more abundant than on Earth—pheasants, hares, deer, foxes—creatures everywhere. Hunting, it seemed, would not be difficult. Since he was passing a blacksmith’s, why not buy a bow and arrows and give it a try?

With this thought, Fang Zheng led the little girl inside. A wave of heat drove away the autumn chill, enveloping them as they entered. Fang Zheng paused, glancing around, but saw no forge; the clanging of metal came from the back. He realized his mistake; he had assumed the blacksmith worked in the shop itself, but apparently, there was a workshop behind. “How ignorant of me,” he thought with some embarrassment, “You can’t very well sell goods and smith in the same room.”

Gathering himself, Fang Zheng began to survey the shop. It was spacious, the floor paved with blue bricks, the space somewhat bare except for the walls lined with various iron tools. There was no one in sight. A small door faced them, likely leading to the backyard. He spotted several bows hanging on the left wall, four of them displayed in a row. He did not go over immediately; with no one in the shop, it would be rude to handle the merchandise.

“Big Brother Niu, are you there?” the little girl called out, seeing the shop empty. She didn’t know what Fang Zheng wanted, but calling for the owner was the right thing to do.

“Who is it? I’m coming!” A voice called out from the back, its owner perhaps not hearing the little girl clearly over the sounds of hammering. Soon, a well-built young man, bare-chested, emerged. When he saw Fang Zheng and the little girl, a simple, honest smile broke over his face. “Yaya, what brings you here today? Don’t you usually say it’s too noisy?” As he spoke, he glanced at Fang Zheng, apparently guessing his identity. “It’s Brother Fang who wanted to see you,” the little girl replied.

“Oh?” The young man shifted his gaze to Fang Zheng. “Is there something you need, my friend?”

“I’d like to buy a bow and a few quivers of arrows. Do you have any for sale?”

“We have everything. The bows hanging on that wall are all finished pieces. Take a look, see if any suit you. If you have special requirements, we can make something custom—guaranteed to satisfy!” His demeanor turned warm and enthusiastic in an instant, which made Fang Zheng reflect that beneath the rough exterior, the man was quite the shrewd businessman.

“I’ll give them a try,” Fang Zheng replied, dispensing with further courtesies. He walked straight to the wall, took down a bow, and tested its draw—too light. He tried another; this one was just right.

“You have good strength, friend. That’s a strong bow; not many can pull it,” the owner praised, laying on the flattery. Fang Zheng ignored this, saying, “I’ll take two quivers of regular arrows as well. How much in total?”

“Right away. This bow is made of top-quality ironwood—three taels of silver. Two quivers of arrows, call it one tael for both. Four taels in total.” He disappeared into the back and returned with two quivers, each holding twenty well-made arrows. Fang Zheng paid, gathered his purchases, and left with the little girl without another word.

Once outside, Fang Zheng was faced with a dilemma: holding a quiver and bow in his left hand, another quiver in his right, he couldn’t take the little girl’s hand, and carrying everything around was inconvenient. He still wanted to browse and buy clothes and necessities for the girl and Madam Zhao. So, he returned to the pharmacy and, after confirming with Doctor Shen that the shop would stay open, left his purchases there for safekeeping. Only then did he continue shopping with the little girl.

It was deep into the night by the time Fang Zheng returned to the small courtyard, arms laden with packages and the little girl at his side. Madam Zhao was waiting by the gate.

“Forgive me, Madam. I acted on a whim, took Yaya out shopping longer than I’d planned, and made you worry.” He bowed apologetically.

“It’s fine, child. I’m old and can’t sleep anyway, so I waited up for you,” Madam Zhao replied, her weathered face softened by a gentle smile.

“Grandma, grandma! Brother Fang bought so many pretty clothes for me! See if you like them? There’s some for you too, in the bundle!” The little girl twirled happily in her new floral cotton jacket as she clung to Madam Zhao’s hand.

“You look lovely, sweetheart! The prettiest I’ve ever seen.” Madam Zhao’s voice was full of affection. “Go help your Brother Fang bring the things inside. I want to speak with him.” She patted the girl’s head.

“I’ll go right away!” Yaya chirped, carrying the bundle of clothes inside, her face radiant with delight. Madam Zhao watched her, her expression brimming with love.

“Little Fang, don’t spoil her too much. She’s a child—so long as she’s fed and clothed, that’s enough. Save your money, find yourself a good wife someday. That’s the proper way.”

Fang Zheng chuckled, “I’m frugal, and it didn’t cost much. As long as Yaya is happy, that’s all that matters.”

“She’s had a hard life with me since she was little. Today, she’s truly happy,” Madam Zhao said with a trace of sadness.

“You’ve raised her so well, that’s no small feat. Things will get better from now on,” Fang Zheng assured her.

“Yes, as long as there’s life, there’s hope. Days will only improve. I’m just old, afraid I won’t last until she’s grown,” Madam Zhao’s words stirred a pang of sorrow in Fang Zheng.

“Don’t say that, Madam. You’re still strong; another twenty or thirty years won’t be a problem,” Fang Zheng offered comfort, though he knew it was wishful thinking. People who’d toiled all their lives often seemed sturdy, but were in truth like worn-out machines, fragile and vulnerable to illness or hardship.

“As for Yaya, you needn’t worry. Doesn’t she have me as her elder brother?” Fang Zheng was not one to make promises lightly, but he spoke these words without hesitation. The sages said, “A drop of kindness should be repaid with a spring.” Zhang Qi had saved his life, and Fang Zheng had spent three years repaying that debt. Now, Madam Zhao’s greatest concern was Yaya, and Fang Zheng felt it was his duty to care for her too, especially as he genuinely adored the little girl.

“Good! Wonderful! It’s Yaya’s blessing to have a big brother like you,” Madam Zhao said happily. Everyone has their own selfishness, and Yaya was her only one. When she saved Fang Zheng, she hadn’t thought so far ahead, but now, watching Yaya so happy and lively, running after Fang Zheng, and seeing him chopping wood, repairing the house, bringing renewed life to their long-neglected home, she could see clearly that he genuinely cared for Yaya. Hearing his promise, she finally felt at ease. Years of worry finally found rest; she felt lighter at heart. For years, she’d been tense, afraid of making any mistake, holding out for Yaya’s sake despite her failing strength. But now, the little girl finally had someone to rely on—even if she died now, she could rest in peace.

“It’s late. Get some rest—you’ve both had a long day.”

“You too, Madam. Rest well.”

Madam Zhao walked into the house, her steps steady, her back seeming even a little straighter. Fang Zheng watched until she closed the door, then returned to his own room. In truth, he had been prepared for this conversation. Since waking, he’d never really spoken heart-to-heart with his benefactor. He’d expected her to ask about his origins, his plans for the future. But she hadn’t mentioned any of that. He knew it came from her kindness and trust, and he was filled with gratitude.

As for his own plans, Fang Zheng had a rough sketch in mind. The most urgent thing was to figure out the path ahead after accidentally cultivating that nameless internal skill. He pinned his hopes on Doctor Shen, who seemed knowledgeable—at the very least, the old man could help him understand meridians and the dantian. The only question was how to persuade him to teach. That would depend on the old man’s attitude tomorrow.

Next was the issue of survival—hunting, clearly. And then, there was Yaya. He had already promised Madam Zhao, and he truly liked the little girl. But Shenjia Village wasn’t his final destination; he would have to leave eventually. He planned to stay a year, to better understand this world and, hopefully, grow stronger—today’s discovery that he had cultivated inner energy had determined this. But when the time came, what about Yaya? Should he bring her with him? Even if Madam Zhao agreed, the road to Qingyun was long and full of unknown dangers. He had no confidence he could protect her. But leaving her behind was unthinkable, a broken promise, and Madam Zhao would not last forever—how could he bear to imagine Yaya alone in the world?

Fang Zheng’s head ached at the thought. “Plans never keep pace with changes,” he muttered. The future would have to reveal itself, step by step.

He blew out the oil lamp and lay down on his bed.