Chapter 54: Night in Chang'an

With that, he gathered some dry and damp grass, set it alight, and covered it with his clothes. When he lifted the cloth, thick plumes of smoke curled into the air. This was a signal to Xu Jie and the rest of the overseers: once they arrived, Old Meng would be detained for two hours before being allowed to rejoin the assessment.

Soon enough, Xu Jie arrived with his men. When he saw the two standing together, unharmed and conversing, he exclaimed in astonishment, “Well, well, which of you took out the other? You settled it so peacefully? This morning, the pairs from teams four and six fought each other bloody before there was a winner.”

Old Meng’s face was as long as a rain-soaked street. The others had been evenly matched, but he hadn’t put up a fight at all—what a humiliation! Gan Xinda, on the other hand, grinned broadly at his good fortune, hefted Old Meng’s bow and arrows, clapped him on the shoulder, and told him gravely to work harder, before vanishing into the low shrubbery.

“Old Meng, I won’t repeat the rules. Eat something. After two more hours, you can leave. Do your best—there are still two days left, plenty of chances ahead.” Xu Jie handed him a piece of dried meat and smiled.

Old Meng took a hearty bite and chuckled to himself. How could those fools possibly understand his resourcefulness? He finished laughing, then patted his own backside, where ten wilted smiley-grass plants, smoked limp, were still tied.

A single mountain, packed with over a thousand people—imagine the density! Constant eliminations; some, after collecting ten plants, retreated from the deep woods to lurk on the outskirts, simply waiting for the assessment to end.

Those confident in their strength began hunting others. Most of those eliminated were formidable contenders; battles between the strong were always breathtaking. Sometimes, Xu Jie and his team would hide nearby to watch, hearts in their throats.

The defeated were carried off, unable even to walk—failure in the assessment was inevitable.

Seven days passed in a flash. Cai Cong awaited them at the command platform; each person’s haul of smiley-grass had to be checked. The most frustrated were those short by a single plant—they’d avoided others, relying solely on their own gathering, unwilling to fight. These were sentenced to three days’ confinement, scrubbing all the latrines. Those who lost in combat, once recovered, also faced three days’ detention. Failure was failure, no matter one’s ability.

After tallying the results, Cai Cong’s expression darkened. Reading Xu Jie’s submitted report, he smashed objects in anger. The entire room fell silent—no one dared look up at Cai Cong, not even those ranked in the top ten, like Gan Xinda, Lu Yuan, or Fang Niu.

“Everyone will run ten laps around Cai Family Village. All team leaders and above, thirty laps. Can anyone tell me why some in your squads harvested seventy or eighty plants, while others gathered only six or seven? Why?”

Cai Cong roared. From the first day, he’d stressed that teamwork mattered even more than individual strength. Yet, from start to finish, no one had acted as a unit.

This punishment was accepted without complaint. The uninjured supported their wounded comrades as they ran; when exhaustion set in, they took turns carrying each other. After ten laps, everyone was spent.

The leaders gritted their teeth and kept going, running, walking, crawling when their legs failed. Villagers who witnessed this wanted to help, but Cai Cong barked at them—mistakes must be punished, and the ordeal would end only when everyone collapsed from exhaustion.

Cai Cong calmly ordered the exhausted men carried back and treated their injuries himself. He knew precisely how to tend a muscle strain—years ago, his own teacher had drilled the lesson into him the same way.

“These blockheads will be the death of me. Don’t they realize their comrades have their backs? It’s enough to break one’s heart. Baolai, Xu Jie, you two are on night watch—if anything happens, call me at once. Don’t worry about expensive medicines. They may be idiots, but each one is a fine man.” Cai Cong spoke to Meng Baolai and Xu Jie, his face drawn with fatigue. Even demonstrating a few times had cost him dearly in strength. None of them noticed that, on the beds, the supposedly unconscious men had long since awakened, their tightly shut eyes leaking silent tears onto their rough cheeks.

Word of the monthly exam spread, and Chang’an no longer made a joke of the Left Guard. Harsh punishment of soldiers was nothing special—but for soldiers, even as they lost consciousness, to still try to finish their task, hands and feet unconsciously climbing, showed just how much their commander inspired loyalty.

Even the gambling houses adjusted their odds out of respect, setting Cai Cong’s chances of victory at fifteen to one. When Cai Cong heard, he cursed every gambling den in the city, from the largest Union Casino to the smallest Lucky House, berating them for looking down on him. The Xuanjia Army got ten to one, while his men received fifteen to one—an utter insult.

Cai Cong’s fury kept everyone in camp on edge. Each day, they trained harder, desperate not to be singled out as the weakest and forced into special training.

What moved them most, however, was that every evening, Cai Cong made time to teach them to read and write. After a month, some could already recognize over two hundred characters.

Cai Family Village was festooned with lanterns; the New Year had arrived. The old master decreed that the entire village be decorated, even hanging red lanterns outside the ancestral graves, saying the family had brought honor and their ancestors deserved to rejoice as well. What delighted him most was the Empress inviting Cai Jie and her son into the palace for the festival—everyone in the village was bursting with pride.

In truth, this was customary; all titled ladies and nobles were invited to the palace at New Year.

Cai Jie didn’t understand this, thinking it a tremendous honor. Early in the morning, she sent Chunyu and Xiayun to the barracks to fetch Cai Cong, who was now preparing gifts.

Cai Cong, Meng Baolai, and Old Jiu squatted by the door, discussing arrangements for the men’s holiday celebration. Dongzhu stood nearby like a temple guardian; the lady had ordered her to keep a close eye on the young master and not let him sneak off to the barracks.

“In short, there will be no shortage of good food. Anyone with special skills can show them off—let the brothers enjoy themselves. But we must arrange guards properly; those on duty mustn’t feel left out. Others are feasting, and they’re stuck at the gate—it’s only natural they’d be upset. Remember, those on watch can’t drink; anyone else who gets drunk will spend five days in the black room. Understood?”

“We know, sir. Also, I took the liberty of sending Xu Jie to the Music Bureau to request a troupe of entertainers. The brothers have been pent up…”

“Enough!” Cai Cong cut Meng Baolai off before he could finish, glaring at him. “You’re all sons and daughters of decent families—how can you be so shameless?”

“Sir, it’s army tradition. Even His Majesty rewards the troops this way, or he wouldn’t have let us request performers from the Music Bureau.”

“You’re not like the others. What is our motto?” Cai Cong barked.

“To defend our country and bring glory to the Tang!” Meng Baolai and Old Jiu instinctively jumped to their feet and shouted.

“Tell the brothers: if they want to be the glory of the Tang, to be revered by the people, to make their descendants proud, then they must endure what others cannot. Tonight, whether they wish to listen to music or indulge themselves, let them choose. I’ll say only this: those girls are all people with hard lives—why make things harder for them?”

“Old Jiu, did you hear that? Not a word left out when you pass the message, understand?” Meng Baolai ordered. He himself wouldn’t return to camp tonight; he had to escort the lady and young master and couldn’t get away.

“I got it. I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned it to the boss. Now, thanks to him, I guarantee not a single man will touch those girls tonight. Following our boss has raised all our spirits—damn it, now even I can’t bring myself to go through with it.”

Old Jiu lamented to Meng Baolai, suspecting that perhaps Cai Cong was ruining everyone’s fun simply because he couldn’t join in himself.

“All right, enough chatter. Get to it! I need to change—time to head to the palace.” Cai Cong had no time to waste. After changing, he and his mother set out in full ceremonial procession for Chang’an.

Today, Chang’an was jammed with grand carriages; the noble houses all paraded their banners and finery. For the citizens, this was even livelier than the upcoming Lantern Festival, as they lined the streets to gawk at each family’s display and debate who was the grandest.

The Cai family, with only a count and a fourth-rank lady, was nothing compared to the city’s great families—any one of whom could outshine them tenfold. They should have been near the end of the procession, but the Empress herself had sent an escort, elevating their status.

Cai Jie was taken to the inner palace, joining a gathering of noblewomen, young ladies, and boys. Cai Cong was summoned away by the Emperor—clearly for a scolding, but he would be released soon enough, as minors were only allowed in the inner palace with the children.

Nervous and ill at ease, Cai Jie found herself at a loss. Even the palace maids here looked more like noblewomen than she did, and she was overwhelmed by a sense of inferiority.