Chapter 205: Ancestors Were Once Well-Off
It’s human nature to love having fun.
The grasslands are vast and sparsely populated, so people rarely gather together on ordinary days.
Taking advantage of the sacrificial event, a group of people rode horses, shot arrows, and wrestled here, enjoying a rare moment of leisure in life.
But joy is always fleeting, and gatherings must eventually end.
Batu fought his way through challengers and successfully defended his wrestling championship.
This gathering wasn’t very large—just people from the nearby area. If it had been an event on the scale of the Nadam Fair, Batu would have had a much harder time winning the title.
Zhou You had already arranged with Daxi the day before about the horse boarding, and the fees were paid.
Horse prices vary widely, from a few thousand for cheap ones to millions for expensive ones.
Zhou You bought average horses, mainly for fun.
The four horses together cost only 60,000 yuan, but the real expense would come later with feeding and training.
Most people don’t have the space to keep horses; the venue is the biggest limiting factor for many.
As the competition ended, the crowd gradually dispersed.
Some drove off, some rode away on horseback, but no one walked.
Daxi hugged everyone goodbye and headed straight home.
Zhou You, meanwhile, waited for Batu and the others.
The group followed Batu’s car to the Three Prince Banner, next to Sanhe, which is equivalent to an inland county town.
Zhou You joked with Agula, “Was your ancestor royalty?”
Zhou You meant it as a casual joke, but to his surprise, Agula replied seriously, “Yes, though I don’t know how many branches we’ve split into, we share the same lineage.”
Zhou You was momentarily stunned, then quickly understood.
Many say wealth doesn’t last three generations, but poverty doesn’t either.
In reality, the poor often die out by the second generation.
As the saying goes online: “The fact that we’re born means our ancestors were once well-off.”
Many villages used to be single-surname villages.
Tracing back, everyone shared a common ancestor.
As descendants multiplied, even without a decree of equal inheritance, the family would grow larger and larger, squeezing out others’ living space. The poor and tenant farmers naturally disappeared.
Throughout history, think about how your ancestors passed down through thousands of years, generation after generation, surviving wave after wave of famines, plagues, wars, earthquakes, fires, floods, and countless accidents, all the way to you!
One study specifically researched that over 267 years of history, only 13% of families had descendants, mostly those who passed imperial exams or were wealthy. Most poor people faced the reality of having no heirs. So, in recent times, this isn’t unusual—it’s just another cycle beginning.
And most importantly, in the past, there was no choice.
Now, many people actively choose this.
It’s not surprising that Agula has royal blood; Zhou You might have some too.
Haha.
The pressure a grassland wrestling giant gives off is different with clothes on versus off.
When Batu put on his clothes and hat, his fierce aura vanished completely, making him look like a neighborly uncle walking down the street. Only when he wrestled did his imposing presence emerge.
The group arrived at Batu’s home.
It was a front-hall, back-yard setup.
Batu ran a training gym at home. He was older now and no longer competed often, just occasionally for fun.
Agula was just one of his students, a relative who had learned from him since childhood.
The wrestling gym was simple—just a large space with a layer of cushioning on the floor.
Zhou You looked around curiously. It was only about two to three hundred square meters, with a few people still training there. The training style differed quite a bit from kickboxing.
Batu introduced them one by one. Agula’s father also came over; they all lived in the same county town, not far away.
There were about ten students in total, mostly enthusiasts, except for one who had been a professional grassland wrestler with good results, now working as a coach here.
Zhou You felt an itch to try his hand against them.
“Master Batu, could I spar with your coach?”
Batu glanced at Agula, who nodded.
“Sure, but if you haven’t practiced falling, you’ll get thrown easily. Be careful, Teacher Zhou.”
Just then, Xiao Si stepped forward. “Let me try first. I used to mess around with the wrestling team at my sports school—it’s kind of interesting.”
He was volunteering to test the waters for Zhou You, to gauge the opponent’s skill.
Both sides quickly put on simple protective gear.
They cleared a space, and everyone gathered around.
Xiao Si assumed a defensive stance, feeling uncertain inside. What he’d said was partly true and partly false.
The truth: He had indeed trained with the wrestling team.
The false part: Who regularly trains with wrestlers? That’s asking for trouble.
Wrestlers are all broad-shouldered, thick-set, and sturdy. You could hit them ten times without hitting a vital spot, and they’d be fine. But once they get close, you’re basically thrown.
You can’t beat them, can’t provoke them—you just keep your distance.
The opponent saw Xiao Si’s defensive posture, spread his arms, and slowly advanced.
Seeing this, Xiao Si whipped a low kick at him—smack.
The opponent’s expression didn’t change as he kept moving forward.
Xiao Si kept landing smacking kicks.
He didn’t dare kick above the knee.
According to grassland wrestling rules, you can’t attack below the knee, but neither side cared—they were focused on practical combat.
Xiao Si was smart, hitting the same spot repeatedly to build up damage, trying to break through from one point tactically.
But the circle was too small; there was no room to retreat.
First leg, then fist.
He threw a straight punch aimed at the opponent’s chin.
The opponent dodged back, grabbed Xiao Si’s arm, pulled him forward, and kicked at Xiao Si’s shinbone.
Smack.
Xiao Si fell flat on his face.
It was a friendly spar, so they stopped at the point of contact.
Xiao Si got up, clasped his hands, and stepped back.
Zhou You watched how easily Xiao Si was thrown—a perfect faceplant.
If he went up, he’d end up the same way. Forget it.
He said directly, “Impressive, impressive. How about we grab a meal first and chat over it?” He never brought up sparring again.
Silently, Zhou You noted Xiao Si’s contribution—testing the waters for him was a good move.
They ate at Batu’s place.
It was still grassland-style food—meat and fish every day, plus training. It’s hard not to be in good shape.
After a few rounds of drinks.
Zhou You asked, “Master Batu, have you thought about visiting my place for a few days? I run a kickboxing gym and would like to invite you to stay a while and teach me a bit.”
“I’ve heard from Agula that your gym is good, but I won’t go. I’m used to life here and don’t feel like moving,” Batu said, finishing his drink.
Zhou You was a bit disappointed; he’d wanted to learn authentic grassland wrestling.
“But that wrestler from earlier, my junior brother Bate’er, is free right now. He might be able to go,” Batu added just as Zhou You was feeling let down, lifting his spirits again.
Zhou You turned to look at Bate’er. He was 185 cm tall, built solid, probably around 180-190 pounds, with a buzz cut.
It seemed like most wrestlers had that hairstyle.
Was it to avoid getting grabbed by the hair?
“Alright, I’ll go for a few days and see how it goes, then decide,” Bate’er said, neither outright refusing nor agreeing.