Return to Farming: Episode 1
A man sat beneath an enormous tree so wide it seemed to exceed two outstretched arm spans.
In his hand hung a bottle of liquor.
A crescent moon hung in the sky, and a scar resembling that crescent moon also hung beneath his neck, peeking out between the folds of his collar.
“Chief!”
A voice from behind. But without turning, he tipped the bottle back.
“If you keep drinking nothing but strong liquor like that, you’ll develop an illness and die.”
Even at those words, he merely gazed at the crescent moon and drank repeatedly.
The man who had spoken resigned himself.
“Then I shall have no complaints.”
“What?”
“For then you can meet Ahong in the next world.”
The man dressed like a scholar gripped his iron fan tightly.
“I am disappointed, Chief! Because of a mere woman! Where has the chief of the Blood Thunder Squad, our pride and honor, gone?”
“He’s dead.”
“Chief!”
“When Ahong died, Yingjian, the chief of the Blood Thunder Squad, also died. The only reason I do not take my own life now… is solely because of her dying wish.”
“I cannot understand it. No! I cannot understand your retirement either!”
The man drinking beneath the tree, Gao Yingjian, turned his head.
“You knew?”
“How could I not know? All the Blood Thunder Squad members are in an uproar right now….”
“Hehehe. Honggyu, catch!”
Yingjian rose from his seat and threw the bottle he had been holding to the man. The man who caught it in a daze—Honggyu, the eldest of the Blood Thunder Squad—asked hurriedly.
“What is this?”
“A parting gift. Live well.”
“You’re leaving now? No! Th-that aside… please tell me where you are going, Chief!”
“Have you lost your mind? Why would I tell you that?”
“B-but! What do you intend to do after retiring…? You’ve lived by the blade your whole life!”
“I’ll live ordinarily.”
“What?”
“Very. Or. Di. Na. Ry. I’ll live by farming.”
* * *
A sunset evening.
The smell of cooking rice filled the area.
Anhwi Province.
Since ancient times, it had been renowned as a breadbasket thanks to abundant water and fertile land, and so too was a small village in a mountain valley of that region.
All the land in that village was tenant farmland, and the villagers lived by tilling that soil, yet they considered themselves happy.
For the land was so bountiful that they did not go hungry even after paying rent amounting to two-thirds of the harvest.
Thus the village’s name was Guxiang Village—the village fragrant with grain.
It was a small place with fewer than a hundred souls, where each day was monotonous and much the same. But a new event had occurred in this village. Namely, the son of the Gao family, who lived beside the white pine tree on the east side of the village, had returned.
The fact that his son, who had run away from home twenty years ago, had returned—and that he was a handsome man at that—was more than enough to pique the curiosity of the Guxiang villagers. And so, people found all manner of excuses to visit his house….
“Mr. Gao. Might I borrow a hoe?”
“Yes. It’s over there, so take it.”
“Um, I made some black sesame porridge and brought it for you to try.”
“I shall enjoy it.”
“Uncle Gao. How about a game of janggi?”
“Janggi? That might be a bit difficult today.”
Mr. Gao chuckled and answered everyone, but his son merely sat beside him in silence, simply watching the villagers who came to visit.
Indeed he was.
Mr. Gao’s son.
He was the former chief of the Blood Thunder Squad, Gao Yingjian.
That night, Yingjian sat in a chair mending the hoe he would use to till the field tomorrow.
“Brother.”
He turned his head at his younger sister’s words.
Gao Yingmei.
When he had left the village, she had barely reached his knee; now, before he knew it, she had shed the traces of girlhood and become quite a beautiful woman.
“What is it?”
“I-I brought this for you to eat while you work.”
She demurely held out a tray. It was black sesame porridge.
“Earlier, Lady Yeom brought it over for us to taste, and I thought you might be hungry….”
“Thank you. I shall enjoy it.”
“Yes.”
She placed the black sesame porridge on the table and quickly stepped back. It seemed she was still unaccustomed to having an older brother.
Yingjian smiled faintly and raised his head.
“Yingmei.”
“Yes. Yes?”
“Thank you for growing up so beautifully.”
“….”
At his words, a bright red flush colored Yingmei’s cheeks.
“My sister brought this, so I ought to taste it before it gets cold.”
He lifted the spoon and brought it toward the black sesame porridge, then paused. He had remembered something he had forgotten.
“Ah, Yingmei.”
“Yes? Brother?”
“Where is Yingzhen?”
Gao Yingzhen.
He was his younger brother by three years.
“Brother Yingzhen has temporarily gone out to present this harvest’s tea leaves to the master of the Yu Estate.”
“Mm. So that’s why there were so few men in the village.”
“Yes. About twenty of the village’s able-bodied men went with Brother Yingzhen.”
“Yingzhen has not yet married, I take it?”
At his words, Yingmei shook her head.
“No. Brother Yingzhen is already married. He even has a wonderful nephew. Your new sister-in-law has gone to her parents’ home for a while with Hanji.”
“I see.”
Only then did Yingjian understand why Yingzhen and his wife were nowhere to be seen.
“It has grown late. Go in and sleep. I shall clear this bowl.”
“Wh-why would you….”
“Don’t worry. It’s something I’m accustomed to.”
At his words, Yingmei said she understood and left the room.
After finishing the black sesame porridge and mending the hoe, Yingjian lay down on his sleeping mat. Though twenty years had passed since he left home, his room remained exactly the same.
He looked at the ceiling and let out a short laugh.
Not only the villagers but his own family as well knew that he had left home twenty years ago. But the truth was not so….
This year, he was thirty-five.
If it was twenty years ago, then he had been fifteen.
He had grown up watching farming, and besides, living in such an abundant village surrounded by mountains—what could he have lacked to run away from home?
Indeed. The truth… was different.
‘Yes, perhaps it’s better that they believe I ran away from home.’
So he decided to bury the truth.
The next dawn.
He took his hoe and went out to the field. The dawn wind was quite chilly now. In fact, it was still the Yin hour, when the sun had yet to rise—a time slightly too early to be called dawn—but that darkness could not obstruct his vision.
“Huu, it’s been a while since I held a hoe.”
The sensation of the worn, smooth handle felt strangely new. For the only handles he had gripped in all the time before his return were spear hafts and sword hilts.
“I should have come back sooner.”
Ten years ago, the chance to return to his hometown had come, but he had not been able to.
Because a sworn oath with a friend had held him back….
And five years ago, after fulfilling that sworn oath with his friend, he had tried to return home.
But then, love had held him back.
However, that love had departed to a place from which it could never return, and so he had come back like this. Having thrown everything away….
“Huu.”
He took a deep breath, lifted the hoe, and struck down with all his might.
Thwack!
Crack.
“Ugh. Oh, hell….”
He made a bewildered expression. The hoe had snapped in two. He lifted the two pieces of the broken handle with a troubled look.
“Hehe, well now. I failed to control my strength. Hoeing wasn’t this difficult before….”
In the end, he scratched his head and went up the rear mountain, standing before a tree that looked sturdy. Then he drew the dagger he had hidden in his pant leg, tied to his ankle.
The dagger, which looked anything but ordinary at a glance, revealed the blade hidden within its scabbard and emanated a frigid killing intent.
He quietly raised the dagger and extended his arm toward the great tree. Soon, a thin crack began to form at the base of the trunk.
At a glance, it seemed he had merely stretched out his arm, but in truth, he had moved his arm to cut the tree.
Tap.
Creeeak!
When he touched the tree, it finally began to fall slowly. Despite the massive weight of the falling tree, no sound was made. Because Yingjian caught the tree with his own two arms.
“Huu, shall we begin?”
Soon he set upon the tree with the dagger. Whether the dagger was moving or stationary was impossible to tell, but the sounds told that he was shaping the wood.
Sssshhhh.
Ssskkkk.
Taptaptaptap.
His unique martial art, the Duankong Sword Technique.
If the sect leader of Wanermen, the Central Plains’ greatest information network, heard that the sword technique whose attacks were so fast and precise that they could slice through the very air was being used for mere woodwork, he would immediately shout that it was a lie and box his ears!
Moreover, if he knew that the dagger in his hand was Kuangbi, the beloved weapon of the infamous Kuangfeng Blood Dagger that had terrorized the world five years ago, he would surely declare that his ears were now useless, lop off both ears on the spot, and announce his retirement.
After about a quarter of an hour, the great tree was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, stacked on one side were ten or so new hoe handles, and beside them, kindling brushwood was piled up like a mountain. He hid the dagger once more in his pant leg.
“Shall we get back to tilling the field?”
He picked one of the new handles, fitted it to the hoe, and began tilling the field. This time, he used only a quarter of the strength he had exerted earlier.
As a result, the hoe handle did not break, and he could till the field smoothly.
But something still did not feel satisfying.
‘As expected, I need farming tools suited to me.’
After finishing tilling the field, he carried the firewood back on an A-frame carrier. By the time he returned home, Yingmei had already risen and was busily moving about preparing rice.
“Oh? Brother! You’re already up? What is this?”
“I cut… some wood.”
“Thank you, Brother. We were just running out of firewood, so this is a great help.”
“But did you bring all of this by yourself?”
“Is it… too little?”
“Ah, no! This will last us at least ten days.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Please go in and rest. I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”
“Very well.”
Yingjian went into his room, removed his outer garment, and lay down on the sleeping mat. He felt somewhat proud that this was the first thing he had done to help the household since returning.
The next morning.
Yingjian went out with Yingmei, who had returned from tending the silkworms. He seemed to remember there being a blacksmith’s near the village, but he couldn’t be sure if his memory was correct.
Excited by the rare outing, Yingmei was in high spirits, and Yingjian looked at her with a pleased smile. Soon they arrived at the bustling marketplace situated at the crossroads of several villages, including Guxiang Village, Yingjian’s hometown.
“Brother Yingjian. This is Wanwu Market.”
“Wanwu Market….”
A courtyard where everything exists. Indeed it was. Perhaps because it stood at the crossroads of abundant villages, the marketplace was full of vitality, and even goods one might see only in the capital caught the eye.
“First, let us eat some noodles, then go to the blacksmith’s.”
“Yes! We can eat over there.”
Yingmei pointed to a noodle shop operating from a cart.
“What! Is that noodle shop still there?”
“Yes. And it’s quite famous now.”
They went to the marketplace noodle shop and had a late lunch. The taste was exactly the same as when he had come to eat with his father as a child.
“Now then, let us go to the blacksmith’s.”
At Yingjian’s words—he having eaten noodles with extra helpings—Yingmei quickly replied.
“Yes. It’s this way.”
Following Yingmei’s guidance, they saw bare-chested blacksmiths dripping sweat so that their torsos glistened as they hammered ingots of iron.
“Welcome!”
As Yingmei and Yingjian approached, one of them shouted out. Seemingly bashful at their bare chests, Yingmei hid slightly behind Yingjian’s back, and Yingjian found her adorable.
“Yingmei, go over to that accessories shop and pick out something you like.”
“What? You’re buying it for me?”
“Yes.”
“But they’re expensive….”
“I can afford that much. So don’t worry and pick something out.”
“Yes, Brother.”
At his words, Yingmei excitedly ran to the accessories shop in front, and he turned his body back toward the blacksmith’s.