Hearing Ye Qing's question, the young man replied, "My name is Zhao Ke, but everyone here calls me Mad Dog."
The disparity between the two names surprised everyone at the table.
"How could there be such a strange name?" Zhao Chengshuang wondered aloud, "Zhao Ke? That name sounds familiar, like something from a poem."
"Zhao Ke trims his Hu-style tassels, his Wu hook bright with frost and snow!" Ye Qing looked at Zhao Ke; he had not realized that this young man had such a heroic swordsman's name.
"My grandfather was an Old Scholar; he knew a lot and was the one who chose that name for me. When I was six, a flood claimed the lives of all my relatives. I survived by fighting with dogs for food. That's why they call me Mad Dog!" Zhao Ke spoke of his past without a trace of sadness, as if everything was mundane.
