Proving God begins with the principle that no effort is wasted.

Pushing open the door, a wave of hot, sticky rice porridge mixed with the smell of fish hit me.

Mother Cheng squatted in the corner weaving a net, the strips of cloth on her fingers soaked with blood again. The tiny flame of the oil lamp flickered, casting her hunched shadow on the boat deck, like an old tree bent by the wind.

"You're back?" She didn't even look up. "There's a bowl of rice bran porridge left in the pot."

Jiang Lan didn't move, staring at her hands: "Mother, stop knitting. Your hands are all raw."

"Where will the money come from if we don't weave?" Mrs. Cheng's hands didn't stop. "If your father were still alive..."

She stopped speaking before she could finish.

"Mother," Jiang Lan said, "I want to go to the martial arts school."

Cheng stopped.

She slowly raised her head. The cabin was dimly lit, but her eyes were bright.

"A martial arts school?" she asked softly. "How much would that cost?"

"Guangchang Martial Arts School in the west of the city, the apprenticeship fee is five hundred coins."

Cheng lowered her head and began weaving the net again.

"Five hundred coins... We only have half a bag of rice bran left in our rice jar, so we have less than thirty copper coins in total..."

She didn't say anything more.

The next day at noon, Jiang Lan had just returned from the dock when she saw a donkey cart parked in front of her house.

A black cloth covered the cart, and a woman in a silk jacket sat there, covering her nose with a handkerchief as she examined the thatched house. It was Grandma. Standing beside her was Grandpa, dressed in a faded blue shirt, his hands behind his back as he looked at the river.

"Jiang Lan is back?" Grandpa nodded. "Your grandma and I have come to see you."

Grandma got off the donkey cart and frowned as soon as her feet touched the muddy ground: "This place is too damp."

Madam Cheng came out from the inner room to greet them, wiping her hands on her apron repeatedly: "Father, Mother, what brings you here?"

"I've come to see you." Grandpa took a cloth bag off the donkey cart. "I brought some food. The pork your second uncle slaughtered for the New Year, and some pickled vegetables your sister-in-law made..."

"And this too." Grandma took a red paper packet from her bosom and stuffed it into Cheng's hand. "Take this. You two have had a hard life."

Jiang Lan stood at the door, looking at the red paper package, but felt no emotion.

Grandma changed the subject: "Jiang Hao from your second uncle's family joined the Guangchang Martial Arts School last month."

Jiang Lan's heart skipped a beat.

Guangchang Martial Arts School was the one he wanted to go to.

"The instructor said that Jiang Hao has good physique and is a natural for martial arts." Grandma's voice was filled with undisguised pride. "In just one month, his horse stance is already very stable, which is better than those who have been training for half a year."

Grandpa nodded beside him, a smile creeping onto his face: "Instructor Liu from the martial arts school said that if Jiang Hao continues at this pace, he'll be able to take the martial arts exam next year."

"Martial Arts Scholar?" Cheng's voice trembled slightly.

"Indeed!" Grandma straightened her back a bit more. "A martial arts scholar has an official title! If you pass the county-level exam, your family's taxes are waived, and the county government even provides a stipend of rice. And if you can pass the provincial-level exam—oh my, that would be a truly glorious achievement for the whole family!"

She took out a silk handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to Madam Cheng: "Feel this material. It was a gift from Master Liu's wife at the martial arts school. It's a kind of stuff only available in the inner city; a foot of it costs several taels of silver."

Cheng's fingers caressed the silk surface, and a glint appeared in her cloudy eyes.

"Jiang Hao has been smart since he was a child," Grandma continued. "Unlike some people who are dull and dull, who have worked hard for years but never amounted to anything."

She didn't name names, but everyone knew who she was talking about.

Cheng kept her head down, twisting the hem of her apron with her fingers. Jiang Lan stood at the door, watching her grandmother praise Jiang Hao with great enthusiasm, watching her grandfather proudly touch the silk handkerchief, and watching her mother's hunched back appear even smaller in the cabin.

Jiang Lan felt as if something was stuck in her throat.

"Jiang Lan," Grandpa turned to look at him and said, "Don't be discouraged. Your second uncle's family is better off and can afford to support Jiang Hao's martial arts training. Your family... sigh, everyone has their own fate."

He pulled another cloth bag from his pocket, larger than the previous one: "This is twenty taels of silver. Take it, do some small business, or learn a trade. Don't spend your whole life toiling at the docks, that's a dead end."

Jiang Lan did not answer.

"Take this." Grandpa stuffed the cloth bag into his hand. "Your father passed away early, leaving you and your mother behind. We old folks feel terrible about it. Take this money and learn a trade."

Learn a trade.

Jiang Lan clutched the cloth bag, its surface still warm from her grandfather's touch, and felt as if something had ripped out of her heart.

Twenty taels of silver.

But if Jiang Hao went to the martial arts school, the apprenticeship fee alone would be five hundred coins. Add to that tuition, medicinal baths, and meat supplements, and it would cost at least three taels of silver a month. These twenty taels would only be enough for Jiang Hao to live on for half a year.

What he was given was the opportunity to do some small business, learn a skill, and live a peaceful life.

One is investment, the other is charity.

"Lan, don't blame your grandfather for being biased." Grandma sighed, her tone tinged with pity. "With your family's circumstances, you couldn't afford to go to a martial arts school. Herbal baths cost money, meat costs money, and all the other students there are from wealthy families—you'd only suffer there and be unable to hold your head up. It's better to use that money to learn a trade and live a peaceful life."

Jiang Lan lowered her head, looking at the cloth bag in her hand. It felt heavy, as if it were pressing on her heart.

"Alright, that's enough." Grandpa waved his hand. "We still have to rush back. Your second uncle's family is slaughtering a chicken today. Jiang Hao has been practicing martial arts hard, so he needs to be nourished."

Grandma had already turned around and boarded the donkey cart, fanning herself with a handkerchief: "This place is no place for a human to live."

The donkey cart creaked and groaned as it drove away.

The dock fell silent again. The wind blew from the river, carrying a fishy smell and chilling to the bone.

Cheng stood motionless at the cabin door, still clutching the red paper package in her hand.

"mother……"

"Stop talking," Cheng interrupted him softly. "Your grandfather is right, everyone has their own fate."

She turned and went into the cabin, her back hunched, as if she had aged several years.

Late at night.

Cheng was asleep in the inner room, her breathing very soft, occasionally turning over.

Jiang Lan sat at the bow of the boat, clutching the cloth bag in her hand.

Twenty taels of silver. Enough for him to start a small business, learn a trade, and eke out a living in this city. Like those people at the docks, like his father, like Old Zhou—his back bent under the weight, his blood drained, and finally dragged away like a dead dog.

He remembered what his grandmother had said that day—

"Jiang Hao has good physique; he's got the makings of a martial arts practitioner."

"I'll be able to take the martial arts exam next year."

"Unlike some people, who are dull and unambitious, they've worked hard for years but haven't amounted to anything."

He placed the cloth bundle on his lap and untied it.

Inside were a few pieces of loose silver and a note. The note had a few words scrawled on it, in Grandpa's handwriting:

"Live your life well and stop thinking about useless things."

Learning martial arts is useless, turning your life around is useless, changing your fate is useless.

Jiang Lan crumpled the note into a ball and held it in her hand.

The golden words resurfaced in my mind—

Heaven rewards diligence; no effort is ever wasted.

Once he sets his mind to something, he'll definitely succeed. Does learning martial arts depend on innate talent? He may not have the innate talent, but he has the destiny. What takes others three years to learn, he might only need three months. What costs others a hundred taels, he might only need ten.

This is his only trump card, and the source of his confidence to challenge fate.

He took a deep breath and tucked the cloth bag into his coat.

Then she pulled an old earthenware jar from under the bed, opened it, and inside was a pair of silver earrings. They were her mother's dowry; she had kept them for many years, saying she would leave them to her daughter-in-law.

He put the silver earrings and the twenty taels of silver together and counted them.

The silver earrings can be pawned for about a hundred coins. Adding the twenty taels of silver Grandpa gave me—twenty taels of silver makes two thousand coins. Two thousand one hundred coins.

Guangchang Martial Arts School charges 500 yuan for becoming an apprentice. Adding the first month's tuition, medicinal bath, and meals, it will cost at least another 300 yuan.

Two thousand one hundred minus eight hundred, what remains is one thousand three hundred.

He was stunned. 1,300 coins would have been enough for him to live on for several months at the martial arts school.

It turns out that the money his grandfather gave him was enough for him to learn martial arts.

Then why did he say he wanted to do some small business and learn a skill?

Jiang Lan looked down at the cloth bag in her hand and suddenly understood.

It's not that he doesn't have enough money, it's that he doesn't deserve it.

In his grandfather's eyes, Jiang Hao was a "promising talent" and worth investing money in nurturing. As for him, he should just live a peaceful and stable life and not think about those useless things.

He put the silver earrings back into the earthenware jar, and only put the loose silver into his pocket.

I'll go to the martial arts school tomorrow.

He has enough money, but whether a martial arts school will accept him isn't about the money. It's about his potential, his talent, and whether he's cut out for it.

He wasn't Jiang Hao; he didn't have an uncle to support him, nor a coach to praise him as a promising talent.

But he had one thing that Jiang Hao didn't—

Heaven rewards diligence; no effort is ever wasted.

A breeze blew across the river, rustling the reeds. The boy's slender figure sat on the threshold, his back ramrod straight.

He unfolded the crumpled piece of paper and glanced at it.

"Live your life well and stop thinking about useless things."

Grandpa's handwriting was crooked and uneven, as if his hand was shaking when he wrote it.

He stared at those words for a long time.

Then let go.

The note was swept away by the wind and disappeared into the dark, murky river.