Insufficient balance

  Yes, what Zhao Fubo recited was indeed Yue Fei's "Man Jiang Hong".

  Why did they use the poems and songs with the surname Yue as their family motto when their own surname is Zhao?

  Zhao Fubo didn't know, he only knew that for this Uncle Yue, home was a place of great respect. When speaking, it had to start with "Uncle Yue" and end with "Wu Mu Wang", if one accidentally forgot, the family rules required him to reflect deeply on his skin and flesh.

  Having been beaten with a small board many times, he remembered this "Man Jiang Hong" as being extremely familiar and fluent.

  As he began to recite, the willow branch had already been handed over by the servant. Shu Yiner looked at the willow branch with her small white teeth biting her red lips, and her eyes were already filled with tears.

  Only in front of San Niang, tears dared to roll only in her eyes, not a single drop dared to fall. She could only tremble with her lips and follow Zhao Fu Bo to recite the "Family Rules".

  "Revisiting the old mountains and rivers from the beginning..."

  When he read to the end, Zhao Fubo's heart was stirred up in these sentences full of heroic spirit. In his imagination, one day he could return to the Central Plains, rely on his martial arts to serve the country and resist the invasion of the Yuan people, but isn't this a heroic act?

  The heart is thinking of that old man Yue again. In those years, it was unknown how he became a good fellow, but he could write down this chapter that makes people's blood boil with enthusiasm.

  At this time, the fear in his heart when he saw San Niang and the various Zhuang masters had vanished into thin air. As soon as the last word of "Family Rules" fell, his mouth continued to recite "The Art of War by Sun Tzu".

  As soon as Zhao Fu saw the book, San Niang stretched out her hand to stop the family member who had already raised the rattan stick and was about to hit. On the side, Zhao Wuji only hoped that his nephew would not be able to recite the book, so that he could be beaten until his skin cracked and flesh burst. At that time, he wouldn't be a match for the seemingly brave little Mamuluke either.

  Seeing Zhao Fu's back open, he was about to speak out to stop him, but seeing San Niang's gesture, he had no choice but to retreat with a hum. In his heart, he just hoped that he would get stuck halfway and let his son win this round. Even if his son couldn't beat that little Ma Mu Lu in the future, he would have won one game!

  Unfortunately, Zhao Fubo's heart became more and more relaxed, seeing the relieved look of Shu Yiner by his side, and he also remembered more and more of the "Art of War" by Sun Tzu.

  "...thus it is known that the commander of the army is the one who controls the fate of the people and the master of the safety or danger of the state..."

  After finishing reciting a chapter of "The Art of War", Zhao Fubo quietly let out a breath. He stole a glance at the second uncle among the villagers, and his heart couldn't help but feel a little pleased, that face had already turned iron-green.

  Third Daughter and the other villagers nodded slightly in approval, impressed by the quick wit of this mischievous young man. In her heart, she regretted that no one at home could understand this military book, Zhao Fubo was just reciting it by rote, who knows how much he really understood, it's up to his own luck.

  The third daughter had a cold face, but today she showed a smile for the first time, and her voice was no longer as cold and hard as before when she spoke.

  "Xiao Chong Niu indeed has a bit of quick wit, today's fight is temporarily put aside. From tomorrow on, recite the 'Three Strategies' every day without error. Later, I will examine your literary skills again, and if you are not proficient or have omissions, I, San Niang, will punish you with two crimes in one, Second Brother, do you dare to disobey?"

  Upon hearing San Niang's words, Zhao Fu Bo was overjoyed. As for the matter of being beaten with a rattan stick three months later, that would be another story altogether. For now, he put on a smiling face and repeatedly expressed his agreement.

  "Coat, coat, Erlang is stupid, just ask San Niang to supervise him every day, and he will naturally remember it quickly!"

  San Niang didn't respond, but a faint smile appeared on her face as she looked at Shu Yu'er.

  "Alright, Yu'er, you keep an eye on this servant every day. If he neglects his studies, give him a good beating. Remember what happened today and if it happens again in the future, don't think I'll let you off easily!"

  Xu Yu'er, who was kneeling on the ground, kowtowed and replied in a crisp tone.

  "I obey your orders, I will definitely do my best to assist the second son in his studies. If there is any fault, please ask San Niang to punish me!"

  The third daughter raised her hand and let them get up.

  As he got up, Zhao Fubo made a face at Shu Yuner, who naturally rolled her eyes and glared at him, resenting him for scaring half of her life away.

  "Alright, Big Brother, your literary skills are passable, now it's up to you!"

  Compared to Zhao Fubo's martial skills, Dalang is inferior in many ways. However, nowadays, when it comes to family matters and external affairs, Dalang's father has the final say, and as the eldest son of a younger generation, everything naturally becomes more relaxed.

  As for literary matters, although he preferred those romantic poems and songs, reciting military books was not a big problem. At this moment, he nodded his head, and a passage from "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu flowed smoothly out of his mouth.

  Looking at Erlang in comparison, Daling is more superior in literary matters, which makes San Niang feel greatly relieved.

  The original head of the Zhao family was Zhao Fu's father, who was also a good man with both literary and military skills in the previous generation. Several functional farms in the house were all his industries. The originally only Huangshacheng's Zhao family expanded its influence by more than one fold.

  Unfortunately, his father and birth mother, Ou Jitan, were ambushed and disappeared during a business trip to Huazixi. The mistress of the house, Ning Shi, who stayed behind, died in a subsequent assassination attempt to protect Zhao Fubo.

  Surprisingly, the outcome of this incident did not lead to Zhao Wujie, Zhao Fubo's second uncle, taking over the household. On the contrary, San Niang, the only remaining elder, easily took control of the family business with the loyalty of her clansmen.

  In the following years, she focused on cultivating the two sons of the Zhao family to read books and practice martial arts. Unfortunately, as it stands now, they are still two guys who are neither good at literature nor accomplished in martial arts.

  But their performance today made her see that the Zhao family has a successor. After Da Lang Zhao Xu finished reciting "The Art of War", San Niang's originally cold face was already beaming with joy.

  "Hmm, not bad. Today, both brothers performed well in the martial arts competition. Next, it's up to you, Dalang, to compete with this little Ma Muerke!"

  Surprisingly, Zhao Xu, who had never been good at martial arts, was not afraid at all. He stood up and bowed to San Niang, then went to the weapon rack and took a pair of short knives with shields.

  Zhao Wujie, who knew that his son was no match for Erlang in martial arts, kept making eyes at Wei Zhen, the master of Yulin Manor.

  The latter was extremely unwilling in his heart, but Zhao Wujie took the war horse supply's Difengzhuang, which was not something he could afford to offend.

  Helpless, he could only wave his hand at the little Ma Mu Luoke and make a gesture to let him know that he was allowed to lose but not win. In his heart, he despised Zhao Wuji and muttered a sentence under his breath.

  "Get moving!"

  At his command, the little horse Muruk immediately sprang into action. With a slight tilt of the long knife in his hand and a stride of his long legs, he was nearly one head taller than Zhao Xu, who was about 1.75 meters tall. Naturally, he didn't put Zhao Xu, who was covering himself with a shield and only exposing his two eyes, in his sights.

  As the two men drew closer, the long knife in his hand was raised high. With the momentum brought by his robust body, when he swung the long knife, many people felt a chill in their hearts.

  The combat strength of the Mamluk cavalry is something that everyone present has some understanding of. They are all fierce and fearless men, especially those under the caliphs or governors, who have no family or children, and naturally also lack any human sentiment.

  Ferocious, brutal and skilled in combat, that's probably all there is to say about these guys.

  It was Zhao Xu's performance that surprised everyone, his eyes calmly staring at the small Ma Mu Lu Ke who was charging towards him, his body motionless with a shield covering it. His waist was slightly arched, and the short knife in his hand was already prepared for an attack. It seemed as if he intended to strike a fatal blow when the opponent's attack was blocked by the shield.

  "Hmm..."

  The long knife in the hand of Xiao Ma Mu Lu Ke heavily chopped on the shield, and the sound of the shield and knife colliding indicated that he seemed to have used all his strength. Unexpectedly, Zhao Xu's shield in his hand only slightly deviated, and it offset the force brought by the long knife, but instead made Xiao Ma Mu Lu Ke's body tilt a bit.

  In almost an instant, the short knife hidden at the bottom of the shield silently stabbed out.

  This is a yataghan short sword, this curved knife is unique to the Ottoman Turks. The entire knife is relatively short, only about 60-70 cm long, 3-5 cm wide, and weighs lightly. The blade curves towards the cutting edge.

  Such a knife shape has its center of gravity forward when chopping, with extremely great cutting force. When carrying it, the blade is mostly sheathed and inserted horizontally at the waist. But the sharp tip of the knife is also suitable for stabbing, if one were to be stabbed by such a knife, there would absolutely be no good outcome.

  The curved blade tip and the blade itself, cool with fine light. This knife is obviously made of Wootz steel (the special material for Damascus treasure knives also known as "Baogang" in our country), those fine lights are called "stars in the night sky" by ancient Persians.

  This is also the specialty of Zhaojia's Yellow Sand Castle. After several decades and two generations of the Zhao family coming here, their ability to manufacture weapons using this material, which was called "Bao Tie" by the Song people, naturally reached a higher level. In the process of preparation, not only did they retain the original craftsmanship of Damascus steel, but also blended in the methods of the Great Song Dynasty for making weapons.

  Compared with local weapons, natural ones are also a step higher, which is another main source of Huangsha City's daily progress.

  Xiao Ma Muerke seemed to have sensed the blade's approach and swiftly spun around in an attempt to dodge the attack. Zhao Xu, although not as skilled in martial arts as his brother, was no useless individual either. With a single stab, he turned his wrist, transforming the knife's edge from a thrust to a slash.

  At this time, Xiao Ma's slightly stronger body was like a stone blown by the sandstorm, rolling and spinning in mid-air. While dodging the knife edge that approached his weak point like a venomous snake, he also opened up some distance between them.

  With a long knife held horizontally in front of his chest, his green eyes still stared tightly at his opponent. However, his leather armor had been cut open by the yataghan in Zhao Xu's hand, and a trickle of blood flowed down his waist.

  "Bang bang bang......"

  When the applause erupted, Zhao Xu had already thrown down his weapon. Although he wasn't wearing a scholar's attire, he still made a bow, and the expression on his face could be summed up in two words - triumphant!