Liu placed down the hay barrel into the horses’ pen, and a black mare trotted over to feed. The boy quickly backed away from the horses.

“You scared or something?” Liu turned his head to the voice, which belonged to a grinning, dark-skinned farmhand with a large scar across his left cheek. Around him a small group gathered around a tall pile of hay, lounging whilst a few took puffs of their cigarettes.

“Not scared. Disgusted," Liu replied, brushing hay and dust from his overalls.

“Pretty stingy for a farmhand," the other man said.

“It was the only job available. And I don’t plan to stay here for long," Liu replied matter-of-factly.

“Fucking pussy," a skinny farmhand whispered to the dark-skinned man, causing the two to chuckle amongst themselves.

Liu raised an eyebrow and walked away from the other farmhands to fill four buckets of water, one for each horse in the stable. He hoisted the buckets to his chest, his scrawny arms shaking as he carried them to the horses’ pen. Carefully he filled each horses trough, avoiding the muscular beasts best he could. As the final horse leaned down to lap at the water, Liu walked back to where the group of was lounging.

“I have gotten all the horses water and food. I think you all should brush the horses soon and clean up the pens before nightfall," Liu said robotically.

“You’re not our fucking boss," the thin farmhand replied. His eyes narrowed at Liu, who was unmoved.

“That is true. But Mr. Iago would not be happy if the horses are not taken care of because not everyone is doing their job. And there are many other people who would be happy to work on this farm for food and shelter, much less pay,” Liu responded. Perhaps one would’ve expected him to smirk or smile after this comment, but his face remained straight and emotionless, which only served to infuriate the other farmhands even more.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” The dark-skinned farmhand asked.

“I am Liu Yodon, farmhand on Mr. Iago’s Ranch, same as you," Liu said in his flat, monotonous tone. “But it is unlikely it will remain that way if you keep avoiding your portion of the work," he said as he looked down and to the right, staring into nothing.

“You motherfucker—,” the dark-skinned farmhand snarled as he slid off the pile of hay. He pushed the sleeve of his brown tunic up, revealing a muscled forearm.

The farmhand thrust his arm in a hook in an attempt to strike Liu, who ducked and evaded to the right. Then he turned around to attack the boy once again, but was met with a bucketful of horse water.

“Fucking asshole!" the farmhand screamed as he shook his head like a wet dog. “I am going to murder—-”

“What in the name of Isana is going on here?” a voice with a strong Delmian accent asked. It was Mr. Iago, the owner of the farm. He looked at the soaked, dark-skinned farmhand, and Liu, who was still holding the bucket in his hands. Both of them looked at Mr. Iago in shock, as the farmhands looked away awkwardly.

“I can see that the work has not been done, but instead that everyone has been horsing around," Iago said in a fatherly voice. A farmhand giggled, then quickly shut his mouth. “Is there an explanation for this?”

The dark-skinned farmhand lit up with a devilish grin, then quickly straightened his face. “Mr. Iago, if I may?”

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“Go on, Cheng.”

“We were getting the horses water and hay, as you can see, and were about to start brushing and cleaning them," He pointed to Liu, “We-uh, we-uh noticed that he had been doing nothing all day and when we asked him to help he said no, and then I asked him again and he threw water in my face," the dark-skinned farmhand said calmly.

“Is that true?” Mr. Iago asked.

“Yeah, he’s been really slowing us down," the skinny farmhand said. The other farmhands slowly nodded in agreement.

Mr. Iago sighed, then looked at Liu. “It’s only been two days and you’re already causing trouble. Don’t make me regret hiring you, Liu. Now please, brush up and clean the horses and we’ll call it a day.”

Liu raised his hand in protest, “But Mr. Iago, that isn’t what really happened. I was the one who fetched water for the horses and gave them hay. The other farmhands have been smoking all day, evidenced by the discarded rolls of tobacco,” Liu said, gesturing to the stomped-out butts next to the pile of hay where the others lay. “When I reminded them that there is work to be done, Cheng tried to attack me. I splashed him with a bucket of water so I could escape," Liu shot back with lightning speed.

The other farmhands shook their heads. “Liu, just stop lying and accept your punishment," Cheng, the dark-skinned farmhand said.

“Actually, I believe Liu. Perhaps you all would be more credible if you consistently finished quotas in the past," Mr. Iago said.

“What?!” Cheng lashed out.

Mr. Iago walked up till he was face-to-face with Cheng. “I believe Liu’s version of events. Now, you and everyone else here will finish the work that was meant to be done, and Liu will do as he pleases for the rest of the night," Iago paused, and smiled slightly. “And tomorrow as well.”

Cheng stared into Iago’s eyes with hatred. Shortly after, the look vanished from his face, and then he backed away, and bowed. “Yes, Mr. Iago.”

The rest of the farmhands sighed and got off the hay pile, a few cursing under their breath.

“Alright Liu, why don’t you go relax. You’ve done enough work for today," Iago said.

“Thank you, Mr. Iago,'' Liu said. “But is it okay if I work tomorrow and save my off day in the case of an unexpected event?” he asked.

Iago chuckled a bit. “That would be fine, Liu. Have a good night.” Iago went back to his manor, and Liu walked the other direction towards the cabins.

“I’m going to get that motherfucker," Cheng said to the skinny farmhand as he watched Liu walk away.

On the road ahead, a caravan of armoured men on horses drove through, their banners fluttering in the night wind, just past the edge of Mr. Iago’s property.

The road was dimly lit by a single streetlamp, but Liu could tell they were imperial soldiers by their red and gold banners and shields. He ran ahead as quickly as he could to get a better look. Stopping a few meters before the edge of the road, where around forty men on horses galloped by. One in every five carried a banner, displaying a golden sun shining beams in all directions on a crimson background. The emblem of the Xing Empire.

The horses all galloped at the same speed, and the formation of soldiers never broke. Instead of forty-something individual soldiers galloping by, it was one strong, organized, intimidating unit.

Liu took note of the soldiers’ gear, the design of the banners, and their horses. Each one was the same breed, and while Liu was somewhat disgusted by the animals, he knew that they were Gaoleinian horses from their jet black skin, lack of spots, and heavy builds.

He watched in awe as the end of the platoon galloped off into the distance. As the last banner disappeared past the horizon, he ran back towards his cabin.

Liu entered his humble residence. It was twelve feet by ten feet, containing a bunk bed, a small wooden desk with a drawer and a chair. On the desk were several candles and matches. He took a seat in the rickety chair and lit a candle, then opened the drawer where he had stored a stubby pencil and a few sheets of coarse brown paper.

With great precision, Liu drew a Xing soldier on a horse, wielding the Xing banner. Before long, he had drawn what was close to a mirror image of one of the soldiers he had seen minutes before.

Liu picked up the candle and his drawing. Carefully setting the candle down next to the door, he scanned the surface to find a rusty iron nail he’d noticed the night before, wedged haphazardly in the rotting wood. With some effort, he extracted the nail from the door, before pinning the paper to the hole in the dim candlelight.