Chapter 5: The Dreadful News

Yan Chivalrous replied,
“I don’t know what I should do either. Let’s just let things unfold as they will.”
Li Little Tiger, Zhao Golden Lock, Zhang Stone, and Chen Little Treasure chatted with Yan Chivalrous for a while longer, then all took their leave to return home and study. After seeing them off, Yan Chivalrous returned to his room, sat at his desk, and opened the “Chivalrous Sword Manual,” beginning to read.
The “Chivalrous Sword Manual” contained a complete set of one hundred and eight sword techniques. Each move was accompanied by a vivid illustration of the swordplay and a detailed explanation of the specific training method. Yan Chivalrous was immediately captivated by the blend of pictures and text as soon as he began.
Exceptionally intelligent, gifted with a remarkable memory and understanding, and deeply interested in practicing swordplay, Yan Chivalrous committed all one hundred and eight techniques of the “Chivalrous Sword Manual” to memory in just five days. Afterwards, filled with excitement, he devoted himself wholeheartedly to mastering the sword techniques.
Although Yan Chivalrous had memorized the entire manual, as soon as he picked up the “Chivalrous Sword” and began to practice, he encountered real difficulties.
The sword was heavy; after only a few swings, his wrist would tire. Moreover, the blade was so long that a careless movement would scrape the tip against the ground. It was truly beyond his strength, awkward and unwieldy.
Yet Yan Chivalrous was not discouraged. He knew well that practicing swordplay was no easy task and that perseverance was essential. So, whenever he could no longer wield the sword, he would rest a while, massage his aching wrists, wipe the sweat from his brow, then grit his teeth and continue practicing.
As a result, after less than half a day, Yan Chivalrous’s arms were sore and his wrists swollen and red. Seeing this, Yan Changshun felt a pang of sorrow and couldn’t help but say,
“Son, it seems that practicing swordplay really isn’t easy… You’re only eight years old—still so young. Why not wait until you’re older to train?”
“No!” Yan Chivalrous answered stubbornly, “Father, I can’t give up halfway. Since I’ve decided to learn the sword, no matter how great the difficulties, I’ll overcome them. Unless I master the ‘Chivalrous Sword Technique,’ I will not rest!”
“Good, you have ambition!” Yan Changshun encouraged him warmly. “Son, then train well. I believe you’ll succeed!”
Bolstered by his father’s encouragement, Yan Chivalrous was filled with renewed confidence and practiced with even greater determination.
Diligence never fails the determined. Through persistent hard work, after a month, Yan Chivalrous was able to execute all one hundred and eight sword techniques from the “Chivalrous Sword Manual” in seamless succession, and his movements were lively and impressive.
Yan Changshun was overjoyed, yet Yan Chivalrous felt no pride and only trained harder.
………………………………
In the blink of an eye, another month passed, and early winter arrived.
That morning, after breakfast, Yan Chivalrous, as usual, picked up the “Chivalrous Sword” and went to the courtyard to practice. Just then, he saw Yan Changshun enter the storeroom and come out carrying a carrying pole, rope, and a hatchet. Yan Chivalrous stopped practicing and asked,
“Father, are you going up the mountain to gather firewood?”

“Mm.” Yan Changshun nodded. “Winter is here, and the weather’s getting colder. Who knows when it might snow heavily? I need to gather more firewood before the snow falls.”
With that, he hoisted the carrying pole and strode toward the gate.
Yan Chivalrous called out,
“Father, wait a moment. Let me finish my sword practice and I’ll go with you to cut wood.”
Yan Changshun laughed,
“Son, going up the mountain for firewood is hard work—how could I let you do it? Don’t go. Just stay at home, practice your sword, and study.”
“That’s right!” Yan Zhao, his mother, came out of the kitchen carrying a basin of dishwater and said, “Son, listen to your father. Don’t go anywhere. Just practice your sword and study at home. Your father and I are counting on you to make something of yourself.”
“Yes,” Yan Chivalrous replied cheerfully. “Mother, I understand!”
With that, he continued practicing.
Yan Changshun, carrying the pole and the hatchet, left the house with a smile.
Yan Zhao tossed the dishwater into a puddle outside the gate, then returned to the kitchen with the empty basin.
Yan Chivalrous practiced his sword with utmost seriousness, then went back to his room to read and write.
Unnoticed, noon approached.
Still seated at his desk, Yan Chivalrous was engrossed in his studies when Yan Zhao entered and called,
“Son, it’s already noon. Time to eat. Why isn’t your father back yet?”
Hearing this, Yan Chivalrous immediately put down his book and stood up.
“Mother, don’t worry. Maybe Father cut more firewood and that’s why he’s late. I’ll go meet him.”
“You’re right,” Yan Zhao nodded, “But in that case, don’t go out. You’ve been studying all morning and must be tired. Rest for a while, and wait for your father to come home so we can eat together.”
Yan Chivalrous smiled,

“Mother, I’m not tired. I’ll go meet Father anyway.”
With those words, ignoring his mother’s protests, he left the house and hurried down the village path toward Great Solitary Mountain.
Soon, Yan Chivalrous reached the foot of the mountain. At that moment, he saw a figure stumbling down from the hillside, shouting as he ran,
“Something’s wrong! Something’s happened! A terrible thing has happened!”
Startled, Yan Chivalrous recognized the man at once as Zhang Stone’s father, Old Zhang. He quickly hurried forward, asking,
“Uncle Zhang, what’s happened?”
Old Zhang stopped, panic written across his face, and said breathlessly,
“My dear boy, you’re just in time… I was on my way to your house. Your father… your father…”
A chill gripped Yan Chivalrous’s heart—a sudden sense of foreboding overcame him. He pressed,
“Uncle Zhang, what about my father?”
“Your father… he’s lying in the Solitary Mountain Temple… he’s gone!” Old Zhang panted, “I…”
Before he could finish, Yan Chivalrous staggered, nearly collapsing.
“Father!” he cried, and dashed madly up the mountain.
In no time, Yan Chivalrous reached the temple.
The doors stood open, and there in the courtyard lay Yan Changshun, rigid and still.
“Father! Father! Father…” Yan Chivalrous called out as he rushed to his father’s side. He saw him lying on his back on the ground, eyes wide open and unblinking—his expression identical to that of Master Kong Jen at the moment of his death.
“Father!” Yan Chivalrous cried in heart-wrenching grief, throwing himself upon his father’s body and losing consciousness.