TST 14
An eagle cut through the grey sky, observing the world with indifference, or perhaps, fatigue. Like Gao Shu’s father, it’s livelihood has been deprived by the early arrival of winter. The squirrel it preyed on had either hid or starved and rabbits returned to their burrows.
Suddenly, the eagle gave a loud cry. It had seen countless rows upon rows of outstanding figures in the distance, distinctly different from the winter snow that has covered the world. At this distance, the eagle could not make out what these figures were. Perhaps it was a herd of migrating animals, or perhaps mere ants crawling on the ground, but out of desperation, the eagle had no time to think. It flapped its broad wings eagerly, diving towards the ground at speeds unthinkable to men.
As the eagle grew increasingly closer to these figures, it could finally make out what it was. It was an endless row of carriages, each pulled by four stallions. Horses were undoubtedly too large for the eagle to prey on, yet it could see that at the very front of the caravan was a man walking beside a hunting dog.
A hunting dog was good enough, the eagle comforted itself as it dived down at even greater speeds.
Yet before the eagle could seize the hunting dog with its talons, the eagle suddenly felt his right-wing growing heavy. In its urgency, the eagle tried to stop it descant. It was then that a piercing bolt struck its body.
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A young man gazed with pride at the fallen raptor. Hanging his bow onto his back, he casually ordered his hunting dog to retrieve the body of the eagle. Once the dog returned, the young man brought it to the leading member of the caravan. Bringing the body of the eagle before the other person, the young man showed his accomplishment with glee.
The leader of the caravan group was no doubt a native of the Zhu Dynasty, yet he wears clothes distinct to the various tribes of the North Sea. The bold and close-fitted clothing appeared strange on the man, who bears the small figure common among Southerns of the Great Zhu. Aside from his dissonance in clothing, he appeared completely normal. He could be described as someone giving no impression at all.
This man was Hua Quanfu, the current possessor of the immortal elixir. Hidden among one of those dozens of caravans was the item that countless men would kill for.
Hua Quanfu slanted his eyes and glanced down. He sucked in a breath of cold air as he praised in a low voice, “Qi Qi, your bowmanship is truly worthy of being recognised as number one on the Xinqingnian. No wonder the Northern tribesman regard you as one of their own - even their best archer cannot shoot an eagle at terminal velocity.”
Qi Qi heard the praise and smiled bashfully at such a mouthful of praise. “I was merely lucky.”
Hua Quanfu shook his head, saying, “Perhaps if you hit the eagle once. Yet your arrows managed to pierce both its wings and body, how can anyone call it luck?”
Qi Qi laughed as he passed the eagle onto the hands of Hua Quanfu’s servants. “I come from Anbei (安北), so it’s only natural for me to have some bow skills.”
Hua Quanfu raised his two brows. He had hired Qi Qi over countless candidates. Yet Qi Qi, instead of promoting himself, had shown a degree of humbleness. It was the sign of utmost confidence - confidence that can only come with the pinnacle of strength, a master of bowmanship.
A master worthy enough to assist in the great collapse of the Zhu Dynasty.
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A master worthy enough to be remembered in the annals of history.
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There was no pause between when Jing Wen pulled open the door and when he took the first step in Gao Shu’s room.
He stepped without haste, approaching Gao Shu who still had his sword drawn. Sitting on the floor, he emotionlessly said, “I won’t kill you.”
“Thank you,” Gao Shu said with great solemnity, his eyes finally shining with vigour and decisiveness as the sword in his hands began to move.
Squelch.
Hot blood splashed onto Jing Wen’s white robes. The cold weather quickly forced the blood to congeal, darkening into black spots that appeared frightening on the white robes.
“This body was given to me by my parents.”
Gao Shu struggled between saying each word, his voice fainter than a mosquito. Jing Wen, while unable to see what was happening, did not panic. Standing up, Jing Wen left the room and soon returned with medicine to stop bleeding. He silently waited for Gao Shu to finish taking care of his wounds, before saying, “Gao Shu, what you did was still wrong.”
Gao Shu’s sword had previously sliced his face, leaving a gruesome wound on his previously childlike appearance. Yet this wound seemed to not exist as he smiled, saying with ease. “Captain, I know.”
Gao Shu was sixteen this year, yet he had already walked on a pathway that man should not tread on - an air of decay unique to shadows now envelopes the man. The mutilation of his face was also not only a symbolic gesture for it made it difficult to recognise him. Compared to Jing Wen’s memory of Gao Shu, it was nearly impossible to associate the two together.
Jing Wen calculated that the time should be a short moment of time before midday. He said, “Gao Shu, it is best for you to rest now.”
Gao Shu realised the hidden meaning behind Jing Wen’s words, but chose to act ignorant of it. He prostrated (kowtow) to Jing Wen, striking his head hard against the wood so that the sound of his gesture could be heard.
Jing Wen stood up and returned to Gao Shu with a light nod. Walking out of the room, he entered the carriage waiting outside the Jing manor, and departed for the Imperial Palace.
Yang’er was the sole ‘servant’ in the Jing manor at the time, so she had no choice but to drive the carriage. Still, her curious and willful nature burst forth as she forced Jing Wen to sit next to her.
“Master Jing, what did you tell Gao Shu last night?”
“Nothing.”
Yang’er was surprised, and the hands holding the reins tightened, frightening the horses. After some ordeal, she regained control of the carriage and asked while wiping the sweat that had accumulated on her forehead, “Than why did Gao Shu not kill himself. He clearly appeared guilty for killing his own father. Moreover, he didn’t know that you wouldn’t kill him.”
Jing Wen replied, “Of the men in the division under my commands, I am most familiar with Gao Shu. Although he had undergone such a drastic change in the past month, he still places the principle of reciprocity above all else. Since I had rescued him from the Zhifu and offered to bear ten floggings in place of his, he would be unwilling to die without repaying the life debt. To my predictions, Gao Shu had mutilated himself for the exact reason he cannot commit suicide - it was to reciprocate the crime of killing his father.”
Yang’er thought what Jing Wen said was something quite simple, yet remarkably cold-blooded. She asked with an unconscious tremble in her voice, “Master Jing, did you predict this when Gao Shu was found Yesterday? If what you say about Gao Shu is true, then you will be in possession of a dare to die soldier with experience as an Imperial Guard.”
Jing Wen shook his head. “I simply didn’t want Gao Shu to die. Aside from me, he is the youngest person in the Imperial Guards.”
Yang’er grew a silent appreciation toward Jing Wen after hearing these words and continued to converse with Jing Wen. Before long, the carriage had reached the gates of the Imperial Palace.
One of the eunuchs came to receive Jing Wen, and guided him through the endless complex that is the Imperial Palace.
The Imperial Palace was unrivalled in size and scale. Even Jing Wen, who was frequently tasked with guarding the Imperial Palace, could not easily find his way. When it was first built by the former Emperor, it incorporated much of the Hanyuan (汉源) palace of the former Sui (隋) Dynasty that occupied Zhili. The most prominent buildings remained the same, such as Chang’an (长安) Hall where court gatherings would commence, or the Kunning (坤宁) Hall, where the Emperor typically spends his nights at - it was also the most frequent locations for assassinations to occur, and thusly, for Imperial Guards to patrol at. The flogging grounds, in comparison, was seldomly frequented, as it was typically reserved for the punishment of members of the nobility and officials.
It took Jing Wen and the eunuch twenty minutes to reach the flogging grounds. The vast open space was deathly quiet, as if anticipating the screams that will come out of Jing Wen as he is beaten. The eunuch guided Jing Wen to a wooden pole, and hastily bound his arms and legs to the beam.
As the eunuch retreated, a man approached Jing Wen. In his hands was a bamboo cane 40 cun (130cm) long, its body still wet from soaking overnight. Before the flogging began, the man said half-amused, “To think that one day, you will be under the cane.”
Jing Wen recognised this voice, but did not respond. The man responsible for flogging him should be Mo Xi (末喜). Despite the feminine name, he was known for his martial arts, ranking seventh on the Xinqingnian in spearmanship. It was rumoured that he had many concubines, but none survived with him for more than six months.