Chapter 121: Infantry Combat and Cavalry

After walking a few steps, Chongzhen, without even turning his head, said flatly, "When you're penniless, they follow you and suffer hardship; when you hold high office and power, they follow you and live in brocade and jade.

We do not believe in the notion that one man's deeds are one man's to answer for. And the Great Ming Code believes it even less!"

Yuan Chonghuan, hearing this, felt his heart die within him as if all was lost, and cried out, "Your Majesty! I beg Your Majesty to spare them! Banish them three thousand li away, anything, Your Majesty! I beg Your Majesty to leave this criminal official a wisp of incense fire!"

Chongzhen suddenly laughed, and asked in return, "So that when he grows to manhood he can learn from you and sell out the Great Ming? Or come seeking revenge against Us?"

With that, he paid Yuan Chonghuan no further heed, and strode directly out of the Imperial Prison.

Chongzhen, after all, knew of that novel The Sword Stained with Royal Blood written by that hack Zha Mouyong in later ages — in it, the son of Grand Commandant Yuan later swore brotherhood with Jin the Fourth! And who was Jin the Fourth, if not that dog-spawn Hong Taiji?

Sworn brothers with the Jianzhou barbarian chief, and a master of martial arts besides, strolling through the imperial palace and inner courts as if entering uninhabited land — mother of his, just thinking of it made one's hair stand on end.

Before he had even left the Imperial Prison, Chongzhen suddenly asked Xu Xianchun behind him, "Are the matters We entrusted to you all properly arranged?"

Xu Xianchun, hearing Chongzhen ask this and knowing it plainly referred to the Shandong affair, immediately replied, "Reporting to Your Majesty, all has been properly arranged. They are all picked experts, eight men in total, more than enough to handle the matter thoroughly."

Chongzhen grunted an acknowledgment and said, "Good. Reckoning the days, they should be about reaching Yangzhou by now, yes?"

Xu Xianchun said, "Reckoning the days, they should indeed be about there. Only, for the sake of secrecy, this minister instructed them not to send back word until after the deed is done, and only then to pass on a message; therefore this minister does not know the specific situation at present."

Chongzhen said, "No matter. No news arriving simply means the matter is not yet accomplished. Pay extra attention; the moment there is word, report it back to Us at once."

After Xu Xianchun had acknowledged the order, Chongzhen continued, "Have men pay close attention to those guards brought by Consort Wan. Observe their reactions, and see whether they can truly integrate into our Great Ming."

Only then did he exit the Imperial Prison and head toward the rear palace, where a tender little white flower was waiting for him to pluck.

Those Xibe escort guards Chongzhen was concerned about were at this moment staying at the Eastern City Chiliarch Station of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Xiong Sen and his group, long since instructed by Xu Xianchun, had been mingling closely with these escort guards for days.

After all, they had fought the Jianzhou barbarians together on the battlefield; although there was a language barrier between the two sides, with these escort guards actively learning Han speech along the journey, the two groups got along rather well, with something of the air of best buddies for life.

When they first entered the capital, these guards had acted out the phrase "country bumpkin comes to town" to the fullest.

Coming from the bitter cold of Liaodong and suddenly arriving in the dazzling, colorful world of the Central Plains, they found everything novel and everything curious; for a time, they caused no small number of comical incidents.

Fortunately, the men of the Embroidered Uniform Guard had no intention of mocking them — it was more jesting and horseplay in good fun, and these straightforward fellows didn't take it to heart. Men of the steppe, after all, must have hearts as broad as the steppe itself.

In Xiong Sen's words, the leader of the escort guards, that fellow called Wanyan Cheng, was the sort of man who could swindle you to death without you ever knowing it — born to serve in the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

With a face full of simple honesty, dressed up in the common garb of a Great Ming commoner, if you didn't look at the calluses on his hands worn by years of drawing bows and hacking men with blades, anyone would take this fellow for a simple, honest farmer, not a battle-hardened killer from Liaodong.

Xiong Sen sometimes felt this fellow was an old fox. Every time he tried to trick him, nine times out of ten it was his own luck that turned sour, not Wanyan Cheng's.

For instance, when he took him to the Breeze Pavilion, this fellow was always perfectly well-behaved — wouldn't let the girls keep him company, wouldn't drink much wine, and was even less sparing with words.

No matter what you asked, he'd just flash a mouthful of white teeth, grin foolishly, and leave Xiong Sen grinding his teeth in frustration, yet utterly helpless.

On this day, Xiong Sen finally revealed his true colors.

Dragging the bored Wanyan Cheng out of the capital and heading straight east, they arrived at an Embroidered Uniform Guard encampment. Only then did Xiong Sen say, in his usual brash manner, "I tell you, Old Wan, today you've got to show the brothers a thing or two.

When it comes to the business of cutting men down from horseback, you fellows are the real experts. Last time at the Breeze Pavilion, you signed on for it.

Today you can't go holding back or hiding anything, or else next time we won't take you out to play."

Wanyan Cheng said helplessly, "Wanyan! Wan-yan!"

Xiong Sen played dumb. "Got it, Old Wan. Don't you worry, today you give the brothers a proper lecture, and later Old Xiong here will take you back to the Breeze Pavilion."

Wanyan Cheng said, "Damn it all, my surname is Wanyan, not Wan! And also, next time, no Breeze Pavilion."

Xiong Sen said, "What's the matter? The Breeze Pavilion not to Old Wan's taste? I tell you, that Breeze Pavilion isn't a place just anyone can go if they want. You've got to have status. Status — know what that means?"

Wanyan Cheng, completely at a loss with Xiong Sen, answered honestly, "Don't know."

Xiong Sen said, "Status — for example, Old Xiong here, a soldier of the Son of Heaven's own guard; and you, Old Wan, a guard from the maiden home of Her Highness Consort Wan. That's status.

If it were some common flat-headed commoner, the madam of the Breeze Pavilion wouldn't let you through the door. Understand now?"

Wanyan Cheng was speechless. He held it in for a long while before saying sullenly, "Can you call me Wanyan, please?

Stop calling me Old Wan, all right? I'm begging you!

The food at the Breeze Pavilion is pretty good, but those songs they sing — I can't understand a word, and I can't be bothered to try. You want me to take a blade and cut a man down, no problem; but this listening-to-songs business, you'd best come to me less often for that.

And also, the wine there is too damned mild. Next time, can't you find a place with stronger liquor, so I can drink my fill?"

Only then did Xiong Sen suddenly see the light.

"Oh!

So that's why you, Old Wan, only ever sip that tiny bit, like a cat lapping water — the wine didn't suit your palate. Fine, next time Old Xiong here will take you to the Drunken Immortal Tavern for a drink.

The wine there is mighty fine, guaranteed to satisfy you."

Wanyan Cheng finally grinned and said, "Done. Then it's settled. Today I'll follow your arrangements, and I guarantee I won't hold back a bit. Whatever I know, I'll say it all."

Xiong Sen also laughed heartily. "Good, good, good! Just waiting on those words from you, Old Wan. Shall we go?"

The two of them, chatting and laughing, entered the training grounds.

Watching a group of Embroidered Uniform Guard men crawling and tumbling on the field, and in the distance squadron after squadron of cavalry shouting as they thundered past, their sabers hacking from time to time at dummies made of bundled straw, Xiong Sen asked, "So, what do you think?"

But to his surprise, the praise he had expected from Wanyan Cheng never came. He only heard this tall, brawny, dark-skinned fellow grin and say, "If it were on flat ground, I'd be no match for them — reckon I'd die at their hands pretty quick. But if it were on horseback... heh heh."

And with that he stopped and said no more. Xiong Sen, seeing this, knew the fellow was deliberately keeping him in suspense, and immediately demanded, "You dog-spawn, leaving a sentence half-finished! Tell me — on horseback, what would happen?"

Finally managed to hammer out a chapter. Continuing on, more to come shortly; today at least five updates.

The Tyrant isn't doing anything else today — riding on everyone's support, I'll just keep writing chapter by chapter, posting each as soon as it's done. Brothers, keep the momentum going.

Recommendations, bookmarks, monthly tickets, subscriptions — send a wave. We will shout 666.

Also, the daily book recommendation slot: Summoning Cuisine in Great Song. The author is a girl, folks — all you single dogs, aren't you going to hurry up and bookmark and recommend?

Dominating the Primitive World, a work by Our imperial in-law, a legendary figure on Qidian, the tower-rush demon lord, the work of All-Domain Silence.

(End of Chapter)