Chapter 508: - The Army Sets Out

Meng Shou raised his brush and recorded those words, then handed the sheet to the servant beside him.

At that moment, a mounted soldier came in to report that the Chu party sent to receive Meng Shou had arrived.

After compiling the histories of all Four Great States, Meng Shou’s reputation and standing needed no explanation. Every state wished it could keep such a “treasure” for itself. Even the State of Yan, which outsiders had always considered indifferent to literary education, had wanted him to remain.

But the four words “fallen leaves return to their roots” carried too much weight. Once Meng Shou decided to leave, even Emperor Yan could not forcibly keep him.

“Teacher.”

“Sit a while longer. Let them wait. We can also give them a chance to peek at the strength and weakness of your Yan army.”

Tian Wujing nodded.

Of course, that had only been a joke.

The true reason was that Meng Shou himself knew he did not have many days left. This farewell might truly be the final parting between master and disciple, separated hereafter by Heaven and man.

“Disciple, your teacher has spent a lifetime compiling history. Do you know what realization struck me most deeply?”

“Please enlighten me, Teacher.”

“History is compiled about the people of the past, but it is used by the people of the present. When I compiled the *History of Chu*, most of the great noble houses passed down from those earlier generations still existed. People often came to my door asking for a favorable sentence, asking me to praise some achievement, asking me to conceal some fault. When I compiled the *History of Jin*, I had the misfortune of staying with the Wenren Clan. Whenever I wrote about matters involving their own house, I was constantly constrained. Everyone beneath Heaven knows I left behind the phrase ‘the Three Clans divided Jin’ and was imprisoned by the Wenren Clan for three years. Yet that misfortune was also good fortune. Because I was with the Wenren Clan, when I wrote of the Situ Clan, the Helian Clan, or even the Jin Emperor in the capital region, I could discuss the facts as they were, neither concealing nor beautifying them. That was actually exhilarating. When I compiled the *History of Qian*, I did leave behind the word ‘seized’ for Emperor Taizu’s acquisition of the realm. But from Emperor Taizong’s disastrous northern expedition, to Emperor Zhenzong’s absurd pursuit of gods and the Dao, to Emperor Renzong’s appearance of benevolence while in truth accomplishing very little, all of these matters had to be constrained once they reached my brush. I could not pursue the truth to its depths. I could only write them evenly. When I compiled the *History of Yan*, I too was burdened in earlier years by the great clans. But after His Majesty Emperor Yan trampled those clans beneath cavalry hooves, my brush suddenly became broad and unrestrained, flowing like water. If I were to return now and revise the *History of Jin* in detail, that too would become incomparably smooth. And then look at the *History of Xia* compiled by the various states. In the first half of Great Xia, generation after generation of Sons of Heaven are wise and mighty. In the latter half, Great Xia suddenly becomes filled with foolish rulers, treacherous ministers, and suffering commoners. The reason is simple. The founding Emperors of Yan, Jin, and Chu were once all vassals of the Great Xia Son of Heaven, so the first half of Xia must be embellished. Later, after the Three Marquises founded their states and ascended as emperors, they needed to justify their own legitimacy. So the filthier and darker the second half of Xia was painted, the more their own founding of states appeared to accord with Heaven’s mandate. More than eight hundred years ago, Great Xia collapsed. Yan, Jin, and Chu had not yet become what they are today, and each still faced threats from Barbarians, Savages, or Shanyue tribes. Yet when chaos broke out in the Great Xia imperial capital, why did none of the three states send armies to rescue the sovereign? The history of that period has always remained vague. Disciple, after saying all this, do you understand what I mean?”

Tian Wujing nodded, then shook his head.

He nodded because he understood.

He shook his head because he did not care.

Meng Shou suddenly became furious.

“What your teacher means is that all this talk of glory for a thousand autumns and wise, mighty rulers is worthless if no descendants remain to polish your image and sing your praises! Even if your achievements defy Heaven, later hands can still cut and alter the record until you are left in rags! And all this talk of leaving a foul name for ten thousand years, of being muddleheaded and incompetent—if your descendants still occupy high positions in the world, then yes, the historian’s brush is a blade, but it is the historian who holds that blade. A historian may not fear death, but his family will. A historian may endure poverty, but his family still has to eat! Besides, after Great Xia collapsed, the hereditary historians of the Xia court became ordinary official posts in every state. Nominally, the ruler appoints men of both virtue and talent. But how does one test virtue and talent? How does one measure them? In the end, all of that is weighed in the ruler’s own heart. Disciple, your teacher knows the suffering in your heart. I also know you stopped caring about what people say of you in life or after death long ago. But you can choose not to care. What about them?”

Meng Shou pointed toward the cavalrymen standing guard beyond the pavilion.

“A history book is thin, yet it must record a thousand autumns. The overwhelming majority of those men are destined never to leave even a name or surname in its pages. So whatever posthumous reputation they possess is tied to you. Disciple, refusing to think for yourself is your own affair. Can you truly refuse to think for them as well?”

Tian Wujing’s gaze remained calm. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

“What your teacher is saying is not that Tian Wujing should rebel. The world wonders why Great Yan’s northern and southern Marquises do not rebel, but I understand perfectly well that the two of you boarded the same ship long ago. Rebellion is no longer possible for you. What I mean is that you should leave someone behind to carry on after you. Tian Wujing, whether this life of yours is judged right or wrong, meritorious or sinful, you can leave that for people a thousand years later to debate. You can be detached. You can afford that detachment. But these fierce soldiers who have followed you north and south, fighting one campaign after another, still deserve some kind of protection. The best protection lies inside the history books. If the histories speak well of them, then while they are alive, their lot will rarely be too poor.”

“Teacher, your disciple understands.”

“Do not blame your teacher for nagging. Once I return to Chu, I become a man of Chu again, while you are a man of Yan. I will not say some bullshit about master and disciple severing all ties, but before I breathe my last, I would still rather not see you again.”

“Then your disciple will do his best to disappoint Teacher.”

“Heh. Right, there is one more thing. In the *History of Yan*, I gave both you and Li Liangting Imperial Annals. I also gave that Count Pingye a Biography. But a Biography is still nowhere near as secure as a Hereditary House.”

Tian Wujing said nothing. His gaze merely drifted into the distance.

“I have spent my whole life compiling history. The histories are mottled and tangled, but after long enough one still sees certain patterns. It is like the twenty-four solar terms old farmers use when working the fields. Watch them long enough and everything comes down to four words: the cycle repeats itself. Count Pingye has always been highly regarded by you. From what I have seen of the way he conducts himself, he cannot really be called a good man.”

“Yes.”

“But from ancient times to the present, how many men who leave their names in history were ever truly good men? On the contrary, those villains who live honestly according to their own nature are often much easier to like.”

“Snow Sea Pass is not far from here. If Teacher wishes to add a little color to Zheng Fan, your disciple can send a cavalry escort to take you there.”

Meng Shou hesitated.

It was obvious he was tempted.

He let out a soft breath.

“The eastern sea rolls endlessly, one tide following another, yet across all those boundless blue waves, the hardest thing to understand in an entire lifetime is still the present day. Forget it. Forget it. Your teacher will not go to Snow Sea Pass. First, this frame of old bones is already falling apart. Simply forcing myself from Yanjing to here has not been easy. Second, living and compiling history follow the same principle. One cannot be too greedy. Greed in life makes a man die unsatisfied. Greed in compiling history makes one discover too many affairs whose witnesses have already died and can no longer testify. I am only one man. Even if I can compile the histories of all Four Great States, even if I can cover the eight hundred years from Great Xia to the present, I cannot write even one day after my own death! Since completeness is impossible in the end, why keep tormenting myself for nothing? Homeward, homeward. I have spent most of my life drifting outside. I earned little else, but I did somehow earn a reputation. Once I return, the Chen Clan will probably come crying and shouting, begging me to acknowledge the ancestors and return to the clan. Disciple, tell me. Should I accept or refuse? If I accept, I can enter the ancestral graveyard, and your teacher’s mother can be moved into the Chen Clan’s ancestral graves as well.”

“Your disciple believes Teacher should decide such matters for himself. But...”

“But what?”

“Teacher has compiled history for an entire lifetime. When later generations read it, it will be as though Teacher stands before them and speaks with his own mouth. Since Teacher already lives within history, why bother with mundane matters like these?”

“That is true. But the reason your teacher does not want to acknowledge the clan is not really that. I simply think the name Chen Shou sounds rather bad.”

“If Teacher thinks it sounds bad, then it probably truly does.”

“You, ah. Fine. Call them over to receive me.”

“Yes, Teacher.”

The Chu party arrived. They wore no armor, but the guards clearly had military backgrounds. They had also brought a broad and exquisitely made carriage.

Meng Shou climbed into the carriage but did not enter it immediately. A servant supported one of his arms while his other hand gripped the side of the carriage. He looked at Tian Wujing standing before him and smiled.

“Yao Zizhan once said your teacher was compiling history for the thousand autumns to come. I have never quite agreed. Even if every person in later generations becomes literate, not everyone will read history. Compared with histories, people usually prefer tales of romance, flowers beneath the moon, anecdotes, and elegant scandals. Your teacher compiles history mostly for myself to read, and for later generations of people who walk the same path. My path is destined to be lonely, yet I do not feel lonely. If the people of this age do not understand me, someone in a later age will. If the people of that later age still do not understand me, there will always be people even later who may. Wujing, my disciple, let these words encourage both master and disciple.”

Tian Wujing saluted.

“Thank you, Teacher.”

Meng Shou departed in the carriage under the escort of the Chu party.

Tian Wujing remained where he was for a very long time.

That night, messenger riders poured out of Fengxin City.

The clouds of war finally descended in full.

“Prince of Jingnan’s order! Every army, every body of laborers, every convoy of grain and supplies must arrive on the appointed date. Any delay will be punished by death!”

...

Guo Dong was sixteen years old and came from Gu County.

Gu County lay in eastern Yan beside the Horseshoe Mountains. Back when the State of Jin still existed, its geographical role had been similar to that of Tiger Head City in Beifeng Commandery.

Three years earlier, when the Jin army invaded Yan, one force belonging to the Helian Clan attacked Gu County for two months.

Half the county’s able-bodied men died defending it.

They endured until the day the Marquis of Jingnan and the Marquis of Zhenbei led their armies through Nanmen Pass and shattered the Jin troops.

Gu County survived.

More than three years passed quickly.

Three years ago, Guo Dong had still been small. When the Jin army attacked, he remained at home with his mother while his father took his two elder brothers to the walls.

His eldest brother died.

His second brother was crippled.

After the war, the County Magistrate promoted Guo Dong’s father to Centurion of Gu County’s Mountain Militia.

The Mountain Militia was exactly what the name implied: militia. It did not belong to the regular imperial establishment, but its members could receive fixed allotments of grain and rice from the county yamen at intervals.

Guo Dong remembered only that on one particular night, his father drank a great deal of wine and quarreled with his mother inside their room.

His mother cried bitterly.

Then his father came outside with several clear scratches on his face left by Guo Dong’s mother.

His father, Guo Dayong, asked him:

“Can you still lift a saber? Come with your dad and kill Chu slaves!”

Guo Dong answered:

“No.”

And then his father, who had not dared raise a hand against Guo Dong’s mother, gave Guo Dong a savage beating.

The next day, bruised and swollen, Guo Dong was dragged by his father to Gu County’s yamen.

Several hundred people stood inside the yamen courtyard.

Even more people waited outside, mostly women and old men.

The County Magistrate wore his official robes and held a gleaming scroll in his hands.

Guo Dong assumed it was an imperial edict.

Most people present thought the same.

Only later, after entering the army and seeing plenty of military orders, did Guo Dong understand that His Majesty could hardly issue a personal imperial edict to a tiny county yamen like Gu County.

At most, it had been a mobilization document from the Ministry of Revenue or Ministry of War.

The County Magistrate read the “imperial edict” in a flowery, literary style.

No one really understood the first half.

But they understood the main point near the end.

His Majesty was going to war against the Chu slaves!

The yamen courtyard immediately erupted in cheers.

Guo Dong looked at everyone celebrating and at his father’s excitement.

He felt somewhat lost.

The last time he had seen everyone this happy had been three years earlier, when the defenders on the walls saw black-armored cavalry of their own side appear in the distance.

He did not understand why everyone was so happy now.

Was war something worth celebrating?

Guo Dong disliked war.

Every day, when he looked at his crippled second brother, he became afraid of the weapons stored inside their home.

Looking at those weapons felt no different from looking at the grave mounds in the barren cemetery outside the city.

News of what had happened recently in the capital had already reached them.

The Chu had sent an assassin to murder His Majesty.

The Third Prince had sacrificed himself to save his father, leaving His Majesty unharmed.

Guo Dong remembered that day.

His father had been furious.

During dinner he cursed the Chu slaves for an entire two hours, calling them ignorant of what was good for them and saying they had no idea how close they were to death.

But Guo Dong knew something.

His father had never actually been to Chu in his life.

Guo Dong himself did not feel angry over the matter.

He had heard people say that three years earlier, his eldest brother had died on the walls beneath a Jin blade while saving their father.

By now, Guo Dong had already grown accustomed to living without his eldest brother.

So he thought His Majesty would probably grow accustomed to living without the Third Prince too.

He had never shared that thought with anyone.

Not even his father.

He did not dare.

He knew the idea was somewhat outrageous and contrary to proper principles.

Inside the yamen, the County Magistrate kept shouting, telling everyone what situation Great Yan was about to face.

The Chu and the Qian had already agreed that several years from now they would attack Great Yan together.

Therefore, we must attack Chu now!

Guo Dong had dealt with some merchant caravans passing through Gu County.

He knew that the State of Qian was not far from Gu County.

Once you crossed Yinlang Commandery, you could enter Qian.

Chu, however, was very, very far away.

They would have to cross the entire Jin region.

Guo Dong badly wanted to ask the County Magistrate why His Majesty was not attacking Qian instead of Chu.

But once again, he did not dare.

Long ago, his father had told him he was different from his two elder brothers.

He was too timid.

Too useless.

After the County Magistrate finished speaking, Guo Dong saw his father, Guo Dayong, step forward to face everyone.

His father shouted:

“Folks!”

Everyone around Guo Dong shouted back:

“Here!”

Guo Dong shouted along with them.

Whenever his father faced a crowd, Guo Dong always felt the man’s eyes paid particular attention to him.

So he did not dare stay silent.

“Three years ago, when we killed Jin dogs, did we lose the skill?”

“No!”

“No!”

“Have the people of Gu County forgotten their blood?”

“No!”

“No!”

“His Majesty’s order has come down! Kill Chu slaves! Avenge Third Highness! Avenge His Majesty!”

“Revenge!”

“Revenge!”

Guo Dong did not understand why his father’s few words could stir the villagers so easily.

He did not want to leave home.

He did not want to leave his mother.

And he certainly did not want to leave Miss A’Shui across the street, whose marriage arrangement with him was almost settled.

A’Shui’s family had once been very well off.

Her father had run a cloth shop in the county city.

Three years ago, when the Jin army invaded, her father happened to be out delivering goods.

The Jin soldiers killed him.

The man died.

The goods were lost.

A’Shui’s household declined.

Then Guo Dong’s father became Centurion of the Mountain Militia.

A marriage between the two families, once impossible, suddenly became possible.

Miss A’Shui was very pretty.

Different from ordinary girls.

Every night, Guo Dong lay in bed itching inside.

From time to time he would pat the empty place beside himself and grin foolishly.

He did not want to go to war!

But his father took the patched suit of leather armor left behind by Guo Dong’s eldest brother and put it on him.

The patch covered the very place where the blade had entered his brother and killed him.

And so, under the leadership of Gu County’s County Commandant, fifteen hundred able-bodied young men from the county city and the surrounding villages set out.

Guo Dayong remained only a Centurion.

But the County Commandant valued him highly.

Within the column, he was clearly one man below and fifteen hundred above.

They crossed the Horseshoe Mountains and entered Jin territory.

Their group began merging with other groups.

The column grew larger and larger.

By the time they reached the area around Litian City, Jin people began joining them as well.

Some were laborers.

Some were auxiliaries.

Guo Dong had no idea whether the contingent from Gu County counted as auxiliaries or laborers.

He did not ask his father.

There was a very good chance his father did not know either.

But Jin truly was enormous.

They walked for what felt like forever.

...

Outside Yingdu.

Xu An had lost his parents during the Savage chaos two years earlier and become an orphan.

He had been luckier than most orphans, however, because he was already fifteen when it happened.

So he could continue surviving on his own and did not think himself especially pitiful.

During the Savage chaos, a great many refugees had gathered in Yingdu.

Even after the fighting ended, the number of refugees around Yingdu did not truly decline.

Yingdu had now become the major military-logistics and freight-transfer hub of the entire eastern Jin region.

Commerce was prosperous.

On ordinary days, enormous numbers of laborers were needed.

Xu An had taken the leader of one laborers’ gang as his godfather and worked under him.

Every day he sold his strength.

At least he could earn enough to eat and drink.

Several months earlier, the troops outside Yingdu suddenly entered the city, killed many people, and confiscated many households.

It was said that the Yan Count Pingye had mobilized the troops.

Xu An did not know exactly what had happened.

He only knew that many lofty lords—or more precisely, the servants of those lofty lords—had recently begun appearing in the labor gangs begging for something to eat.

His godfather sighed to Xu An that people were false things.

One moment you stood high above everyone.

A moment later, perhaps you fell again, all the way down into the mud.

Early that month, his godfather suddenly invited him to drink.

Xu An did not like drinking much.

He preferred eating meat.

To his surprise, there was an enormous platter of meat on the table.

His godfather told him to eat.

Said he had usually failed to treat the boy well enough and made him suffer.

Xu An ate the meat in enormous bites.

The next day, his godfather sent him into the labor camp in place of his own son, making Xu An perform this campaign’s labor service against Chu.

Xu An neither cried nor caused trouble.

He did not even hate his godfather.

He almost felt he had profited.

That plate of pig’s-head meat had been delicious.

Of course, it was not really that simple.

Xu An understood the principle.

No matter how fragrant meat was, it could never be more precious than his own life.

But how should he put it?

Xu An’s family had once lived in a village near Yupan City.

His parents had actually been killed by the Chu.

Back then, he and his father had been seized and taken to Yupan City as forced laborers.

His mother had been taken too, but he had no idea where they sent her.

Later, his godfather told him that once the Chu were surrounded inside Yupan City and ran out of grain, they started eating people.

Not Chu people, of course.

They ate...

A huge group of forced laborers risked everything to escape.

His father took Xu An with them.

In the end, his father failed to make it out.

Xu An clung to a wooden plank, drifted across the Wang River, and eventually followed a refugee column to the walls of Yingdu.

So he truly did possess a blood feud with the Chu.

He had little fondness for Yan people.

Inside Yingdu, the Yan always carried themselves with arrogant superiority.

But if the Yan wanted to attack Chu, Xu An was willing.

Labor service?

Being a laborer?

That was fine.

Xu An could accept things.

He genuinely could.

While the laborer column was crossing the Wang River, one of the boats developed a problem and capsized.

Xu An was a good swimmer.

He jumped into the river with several others and rescued someone about his own age.

After asking his name, Xu An learned the other boy was called Guo Dong.

Once they crossed the Wang River, army Lieutenant Commanders came to organize and redistribute them.

Jin people and Yan people were deliberately mixed together into the same units.

Xu An knew why.

It was to let the Yan watch the Jin.

His godfather used the same method.

When work had to be done, he often arranged Yingdu locals and outsiders in the same shifts, making them watch one another so no one could steal or play tricks.

By luck, after Xu An’s group was reorganized, Guo Dong turned out to be there too.

Guo Dong’s father counted as an officer of sorts in the labor camp.

At least he had enough standing to make arrangements.

Through him, Xu An and Guo Dong were placed in the same five-man file.

Xu An knew Guo Dayong was not doing it out of gratitude.

It was because Xu An had once saved his son.

So the man wanted Xu An to keep saving him.

But staying beside Guo Dong meant better rations than Xu An had received in the original Jin camp.

That satisfied him.

The column continued onward.

Laborers and auxiliaries from every part of Yan and Jin converged in Yingdu.

From Yingdu, they crossed the Wang River.

After crossing, the stream split apart again.

Lieutenant Commanders and other officers led each group toward the place it was supposed to go.

The labor camp containing Xu An and Guo Dong had a little more than six thousand men.

Their route went due east.

Unlike other columns, they truly did nothing but march.

They transported no grain and carried no military equipment.

Walking empty-handed actually made the journey rather easy.

Guo Dong asked Xu An why.

Xu An asked him back:

“Don’t you love slacking off more than anything? There’s nothing for you to carry. Your hands and feet won’t blister. There’s no punishment for missing a delivery deadline. Isn’t that good?”

Guo Dong answered with perfect seriousness:

“I’m worried about what we’ll eat when we get there!”

As laborers or auxiliaries, military equipment was not for them.

Unless the front lost too many men and needed replacements, only then would auxiliaries be pushed up to fill the gaps.

But military grain was different.

Their rations would never match those of regular soldiers, but at the very least they had to be fed.

If they marched over there with empty hands, what would everyone eat once the food they carried for themselves ran out?

Xu An told him that when he worked in Yingdu unloading and loading official cargo and private merchant caravans, he had heard more than once that the people of Snow Sea Pass lived very well.

Hearing that, Guo Dong asked in delight whether they were going to Snow Sea Pass.

He knew Snow Sea Pass.

Count Pingye was the pride of Yan!

In the end, the column naturally did not go to Snow Sea Pass.

Instead, it stopped northeast of Zhennan Pass.

Everyone received assignments and began cutting timber from the surrounding area and building a military camp.

Not a camp for themselves.

A proper army camp.

During wartime, the energy and rest of regular soldiers were extremely important.

So tasks like this were usually done by laborers and auxiliaries.

The regular troops needed to preserve their strength and prepare to kill enemies on the battlefield.

The next day, a cavalry unit came down from the north.

It took over command of the camp construction and began demanding that the laborers and auxiliaries build according to its own standards.

Those standards were high.

Which meant Guo Dong, Xu An, and the others had to work twice as hard as expected.

But at noon the following day, a convoy carrying grain came from the north and began lighting the cooking fires.

Everyone’s enthusiasm instantly exploded.

Because they saw meat.

The improvement in food greatly increased the laborers’ morale.

Relying on Guo Dayong’s position, Guo Dong could get one extra bowl of meat with every meal.

He shared it with Xu An.

Three days later, the military camp was complete.

Guo Dong, Xu An, and the others were assembled again and marched twenty li south, where they began building a second camp.

Halfway through construction of the second camp, another group of laborers arrived from the north.

In Guo Dong and Xu An’s eyes, the spirit of that northern group stood far, far above their own.

Those men even sang together while they worked.

Anyone who knew the truth understood they were laborers.

Anyone who did not might have mistaken them for soldiers.

Laborers and auxiliaries spent every day repeating dull physical work.

Keeping morale high was naturally difficult.

Yet these men had somehow done it.

With the northern laborers joining them, the second camp was completed quickly.

Then the entire force marched another twenty li south and began constructing a third camp.

Guo Dong naturally had no idea why they kept building camps without using them and then marching onward to build more.

He remained angry and dissatisfied.

He did not dare vent at anyone else.

So he vented at Xu An.

Xu An told him to endure it for the sake of the food.

Xu An, at least, was satisfied.

The work was the same kind he had done in Yingdu.

But he ate much better here.

On the day the third camp was completed, eight hundred cavalrymen arrived from the north.

Under their direction, the laborers from Yan and Jin were ordered to bathe in a nearby river.

Every Squad was even issued one bar of soap.

Guo Dong stared at the soap until his eyes nearly popped out.

Back in Gu County, soap was precious enough to appear in a bride’s dowry.

And here they were issuing it to laborers?

After everyone bathed, they smelled fragrant.

Many men had never felt so clean or smelled so pleasant in their entire lives.

Some even went around afterward asking other people to touch them and feel how smooth their skin had become after using the soap.

Immediately afterward, the northern soldiers gathered everyone and repeated the military regulations.

Guo Dong and Xu An had already heard most of them many times during the journey.

Here, however, two new rules were added.

No one was allowed to drink raw water.

All drinking water had to be boiled.

And both the camp and the men themselves had to be kept clean.

Once the rules had been repeated, the laborers were invited into several tents for examinations.

Anyone entering had to strip completely naked.

After his examination, Xu An received a wooden token.

When Guo Dong emerged, his face looked miserable.

He too clutched a wooden token.

Guo Dayong came over specially.

The moment he saw the token in his son’s hand, he laughed with delight.

It turned out Snow Sea Pass was selecting soldiers.

Only men whose physical condition passed the standard could be chosen.

Guo Dayong was too old and carried old injuries, so he failed the selection.

But his son had been chosen.

As a simple and patriotic old man, he was delighted.

After Guo Dayong left, Xu An poked Guo Dong and asked:

“Why are you still making that funeral face?”

Guo Dong answered bitterly:

“Stripping naked for the examination was bad enough. There was actually a soldier inside looking me over. It made my skin crawl!”

Xu An laughed.

The laborers who received wooden tokens no longer had to do laborer work.

They were issued leather armor and weapons, then reorganized into new formations.

From that point onward, the former mixture of laborers and auxiliaries inside the camp disappeared.

The auxiliaries began daily drills.

The laborers continued working.

Three more days passed.

Then suddenly, horns sounded throughout the camp.

Immediately afterward, a vast black shadow appeared from the north.

Cavalry.

So much cavalry.

The camp gates opened.

Formation after formation of riders began entering in perfectly ordered squares.

During the long journey here, Guo Dong and Xu An had actually seen many different armies.

They had even seen elite cavalry such as the Zhenbei Army and Jingnan Army.

Yet none of them had produced the same overwhelming shock as the force entering now.

The discipline.

The silence.

The oppressive killing intent.

Together, they created an extraordinary impact on the eyes and the heart.

At last, Guo Dong and Xu An saw a general in golden armor riding a Pixiu slowly enter through the camp gates.

In an instant, every laborer who had come down from the north dropped to his knees.

They shouted:

“Count Pingye, ten thousand victories!”

“Count Pingye, ten thousand victories!”

Driven by them, Guo Dong, Xu An, and the others also knelt and began shouting.

Guo Dong hated war and feared death.

But he genuinely worshiped Count Pingye.

He shouted with burning fervor.

Riding into camp on his Pixiu, Count Pingye had long since grown accustomed to being watched and cheered by countless people.

Even so, the scene stirred something in him.

He turned toward Liang Cheng and the Blind Man, who were riding abreast beside him.

“Do you remember? More than three years ago, outside Nanwang City, I was leading the soldiers of Cuiliu Fort. We stood off to the side just like this and watched the Marquis of Jingnan and the Marquis of Zhenbei ride past us on their Pixiu.”

The Blind Man asked:

“Master, at the time were you thinking, ‘A real man should live like this,’ or ‘I could take his place’?”

Count Pingye shook his head.

“I remember very clearly. My thought was: why is this damned column so long? How are they still not finished passing? This sun is killing me.”

[End of Chapter 508]