Chapter 170: Rising High

"Kill!"

On the drill ground under the blazing sun, a furious roar rang out. Wu Dacai and the eight spearmen of his squad charged out together, sprinting five paces and thrusting at the human-shaped target.

With a thud, the spear tip stabbed into the hole at the target's neck. Wu Dacai carefully withdrew his long spear — a wooden ball was actually impaled on the tip. He glanced left and right; most people's tips were empty.

The squad leader came over and counted, then shouted excitedly to Jiang Guoyong over on the other side, "Two wooden balls retrieved."

The squad withdrew to their original position and sat down. Wu Dacai let out a long breath. This stabbing training method was said to come from the *Zhen Ji*, demanding both accuracy and force — lacking either, you couldn't extract the wooden ball. Only, the *Zhen Ji* required a twenty-pace charge, while Sir Pang only demanded five paces.

The long spears in their hands had originally been one zhang four chi; upon reaching Anqing they were cut down to one zhang two chi, and today they became one zhang. But Wu Dacai was quite satisfied with this, because it was easier to carry on the march, and he could stab more accurately too.

This was his first time retrieving a wooden ball; at last he hadn't held the squad back. Their opponents were a squad from the Second Bureau — that bunch had only retrieved one wooden ball, which meant their own chances of getting an extra dish at dinner were that much greater.

Back in Tongcheng there had also been plenty of contests, like tunnel pushing and pig chasing, but those weren't recorded. Now, every day's contests were recorded by that Jiang Guoyong. What those records would ultimately be used for, no one knew yet.

A horn sounded from the other side. Wu Dacai turned his head to look — it was a sword-and-shield versus long spear contest: on one side, the two sword-and-shield men from his own squad; on the other, two long spearmen from that Second Bureau squad.

Wai Lian shouted. The two men held shields in their left hands and with their right drew a javelin from behind their backs. These javelins were about four chi long, the blades wrapped in thick cloth, different from the five-chi ones they'd seen a few days ago. Wu Dacai had no idea why the weapons kept changing.

Wai Lian and the other man approached at a slow pace. The two opponents across from them hurriedly leveled their long spears. At ten paces out, Wai Lian yelled, and the two instantly accelerated, hurling their javelins fiercely.

Yao Dongshan behind them bellowed, "Keep charging, no stopping!"

Without pausing for a moment, the two charged forward, drawing their waist sabers with a *shua shua* as they ran. Facing the javelins flying straight at them, the two long spearmen dodged in panic, their spears immediately going askew.

The spearman opposite Wai Lian failed to dodge; the javelin struck his chest ferociously, the cotton-wrapped head smashing into the wooden board armor with a splatter of ink. The spearman stumbled back a step in confusion. Before he could recover, Wai Lian was already upon him, shield braced forward.

The spearman hastily swung his spear shaft inward to block. Just like when he'd dealt with Wu Dacai that day, Wai Lian used his shield to pin the spear shaft. That spearman had more experience than Wu Dacai and immediately retreated a step, lengthening the engagement distance. But the other spearman on the far side had held off Wai Lian's partner.

Wai Lian moved with explosive speed, getting inside the spear's range. The spearman was forced to retreat another step. To his surprise, Wai Lian veered diagonally away — because of his retreat, the adjacent spearman's flank was wide open. Wai Lian slashed savagely at that adjacent spearman's face.

With a miserable cry, that spearman toppled backward. The First Bureau soldiers watching from the edge of the drill ground roared in unison.

Then the two sword-and-shield men attacked from both sides, effortlessly finishing off the remaining spearman. In today's contest, the First Bureau won three to two. They would get an extra dish tonight, and it would be recorded in the contest ledger.

When Wai Lian came back, the whole bureau cheered him. Wai Lian bared his teeth in a grin, revealing gums with half the teeth missing.

Wu Dacai shouted a few times along with the others, but he had no desire to see Wai Lian's hideous mug.

"Did the sword-and-shield men from the other squads see that? Throw the javelin hard, charge while he's in disarray. Anyone who throws the javelin and doesn't follow up — when you come down, you'll get ten strokes each from me..."

Wu Dacai's head was drenched in sweat; he didn't absorb a single word Yao Dongshan said. The weather in Anqing was growing more stifling by the day. The morning training had left him parched. He had his gourd dipper with him, but without the squad leader's order he couldn't drink, or he'd get another round of bamboo canings. And what came next was the formation drill he dreaded most, which vexed him even more.

There were many white lines in the middle of the drill ground, all numbered. During formation drill, Sir Pang would arbitrarily assign them to a number, different every day. They had to start from different positions, march along the edge of the drill ground, then follow the white dotted lines into their respective formation positions.

The drill was tedious, and in Wu Dacai's view utterly useless — more like a method Sir Pang had devised just to torment them.

After Yao Dongshan finished speaking, the squad leader ordered them to drink. Wu Dacai hurriedly fished out his gourd dipper and gulped down a mouthful.

The water in the dipper had gone warm, but the well water entering his mouth still brought a wave of coolness.

"Next is that damn formation drill. Today the whole bureau marches together. I'm saying this up front: the formation isn't a contest, but if you march too disgracefully, Sir Pang will curse your mothers. Sir Pang curses me, and I'll curse you."

Amid Yao Dongshan's roaring, Wu Dacai grimaced and put away his gourd dipper. Today the whole bureau was marching formation together — it would be a miracle if they could march well.

"Squad leaders, all come over. Today we're marching Zone A, all in three rows. We've got nine squads: one, two, three in the first row, then the second and third rows behind. All of you, speak up — how do we march this?"

Wu Dacai's squad leader chimed in, "How about we just line up in three rows, come along the edge, and when we reach that spot, turn directly left. That's the fastest, and we won't get disordered marching up..."

Another squad leader said, "The other bureaus all come marching in a single long column — how can we make it three rows?"

Wu Dacai had no heart to listen; he'd march however they decided, just praying he wouldn't march wrong and get beaten. He was worried that the dumb oaf in front of him would wander off. It'd be best if the squad leader walked beside them — that way there'd be fewer chances for mistakes.

As his eyes were roving around, a figure walked up ahead. Looking closely, it was that Sir Jiao from the Central Army. He strolled over with his hands behind his back, pointed this way, and said, "You, come out."

Wu Dacai was startled. After he'd volunteered himself that day, Jiao Guozha hadn't followed up; he'd figured the matter was dead.

At this moment he was sitting in the formation. He hesitated briefly, then slowly stood up. The soldiers of the First Bureau all around turned their gazes toward him.

"Wu Dacai, what the hell are you doing! Want a caning or something?"

Yao Dongshan and several squad leaders came striding over aggressively. Wu Dacai hurriedly waved his hands. "It's Sir Jiao calling me."

Yao Dongshan looked over doubtfully. Jiao Guozha said politely, "I'll take this man. After picking for several days, this one's a bit sharper. I've spoken with Second Brother — have him come to the Garrison Command this evening to stand duty."

Having said this, Jiao Guozha cupped his hands toward Yao Dongshan, then turned and left. The soldiers of the First Bureau were left staring blankly at the standing Wu Dacai, every eye filled with envy.

"Brother Wu, I'll help you fold your bedding."

"Brother Wu, I've washed your basin for you."

The barracks of the First Squad were a hubbub of noise. The sky was now dark. Everyone had just finished eating. Wu Dacai was packing his things, preparing to report to the Central Army. Dong Mingyuan was silently helping at his side. Although it was just the neighboring Garrison Command, the status was no longer the same as a battalion soldier's — there, you saw the Central Army's high officers every day.

Several squad mates showed unprecedented enthusiasm, lending hands all around to tie up Wu Dacai's luggage.

"Brother Wu, I saved you a steamed cake. Now that you're rising high to the Central Army, don't forget us old brothers."

A squad mate who usually didn't say much handed over a steamed cake. Wu Dacai reached out and took it. From the day he'd joined this squad until today, this was the first time he'd been the center of attention. Feeling rather pleased with himself, he waved a hand and declared, "What kind of man is Old Wu? Naturally I won't forget you brothers."

A big head leaned in before him — it was the dumb oaf who stood in front of him. The dumb oaf stared at Wu Dacai. "Now that you're going to the Central Army, will you still get the bamboo cane?"

The squad leader shoved the dumb oaf's head aside and cursed, "The Central Army doesn't drill that stuff — where would he get caned? It's not the same as the Garrison Command either. The personal soldiers standing sentry number twenty or thirty — those belong to the Garrison Command. The ones transferred out a few days ago were all ones who knew a few characters — those are the ones who went to the Central Army. In the Central Army, that means you're a clerk, like... like those old masters who calculated taxes at the yamen back in the day. Isn't that right, Old Wu?"

The squad leader was calling him Old Wu now too. Before, he couldn't even be bothered to call him by name. It seemed the Central Army really was a fine place.

Wai Lian had just come back from washing up, his body covered in water droplets. Sitting across from them bare-chested, he asked the squad leader in surprise, "So the Central Army is just a yamen? Then do Jiang Guoyong, Xiao Pang Daren, Guo Daren, and Jiao Daren all hold court there?"

"What do you know? Only Sir Pang holds court. Sir Guo is the Banner Officer, Sir Jiao is the Central Army Zuoying Bazong. Jiang Guoyong — bah, you should call him Sir Jiang — he's the head clerk."

Wai Lian looked at Wu Dacai. "Then Old Wu, you're going to be a writing master too? What's the flavor in that?"

"I... should be, I suppose. The Central Army, after all, always has plenty of documents to handle." Wu Dacai laughed it off, then added mysteriously, "Me, I'll mainly be attending to business with Sir Jiao. Sir Jiao, you know — he's Sir Pang's sworn elder brother. Even Sir Pang is courteous to him. In ordinary matters, as long as Sir Jiao speaks, Sir Pang will generally listen."

A collective gasp filled the room. The man they feared most was Guo Fengyou with his bamboo cane, followed by the thunderously roaring Yao Dongshan. And all these men feared Sir Pang. Sir Pang came to the drill ground every day, stern and unsmiling during his inspections, so everyone feared Sir Pang too. Now here was a Sir Jiao, who sounded even more formidable than Sir Pang. For Wu Dacai to be able to follow this man — his future prospects were boundless.

The dumb oaf scratched his head. "They say Sir Pang once lopped off thirty heads all by himself. How many did his sworn elder brother lop off?"

"Get lost, what do you know?" The squad leader rubbed his chin and said doubtfully, "Back in Tongcheng, Sir Jiao was in the Fast Squad. I never heard of him lopping off any heads."

"Great men naturally don't go around boasting about it." Wu Dacai stood up and lifted his tied-up cotton bedding. "I need to go report to the Central Army now. Sir Jiao is waiting for me to attend to business — he'll get angry if I'm late."

The squad leader grabbed the bedding. "I'll carry your luggage over for you."

Wu Dacai said hastily, "How can I let the squad leader carry it?"

"I need to get an exit pass from the Centurion anyway." The squad leader brooked no argument, picked up the bedding, and headed out the door. The others all grabbed things too — someone even took the wooden basin.

Wu Dacai reached the door and in a glance saw Dong Mingyuan following right behind. Remembering how much he had been dragged down by him, and that he was now heading to the Central Army and could no longer have any ties with this man, he hurriedly blocked him and said, "Brother Dong, don't come along. You've already got your things."

Dong Mingyuan was holding a gourd. He hesitated a moment, then said, "I wanted to have a couple more drinks with you, to see you off. I made a point of saving my evening meat ration."

Wu Dacai waved his hands repeatedly. "It's just next door, isn't it? We'll see each other again. You stay and watch the barracks."

Dong Mingyuan held out the gourd. "Then take this wine with you."

Wu Dacai pushed the gourd back. "I've got drinks over there. Keep it for yourself. I'm off."

With that, not waiting for the other to reply, he turned around and strode quickly toward the camp gate. Those teammates picked up the things and followed behind. Dong Mingyuan stood frozen in the doorway, the gourd raised in his hand.