Chapter 552: Teacher

"I'm going back to Xuanfu."

Manda'er lay sprawled on the ground coughing nonstop, beads of water from his hair streaming down his cheeks one after another.

Only after vomiting up a good deal of water did Manda'er lie there gasping for breath. Beside the pond, baking under the scorching sun, the ground was covered with shirtless men of the Northern Border Army.

Beside him, Yang Shisan lay face-down on the ground without a sound, a puddle of water under him too. Manda'er glanced over. "Yang Shisan, you dodge and hide from everything — how'd you get so many scars on your body?"

Yang Shisan turned his left arm over, pressing one of the scars underneath.

This was a pond dug beside Matang Lake. When Pang Yu set out on the expedition, he had instructed the Works Office to expand infrastructure in Anqing. Shipai, as the geographic center of Anqing, was a key construction site, and that required a huge labor force, drawn mainly from refugees coming from various regions.

After the Susong Campaign, the Roving Bandits dared not invade Anqing, making Anqing a patch of untouched land in Jiangbei. More and more refugees came to Anqing from all over. Those who could reach Shipai were generally refugees from Zhongjiang — that direction posed less risk of bandit spies — and during screening, priority was given to those who brought their families and had fellow villagers to vouch for them.

This pond had been built by those refugees. It was dug right next to Matang Lake, with stone slabs laid at the bottom to prevent anyone from sinking into the mud. Just like at the Martial Academy, there was no such thing as a shallow end here. Over a dozen men from the Land Combat Division controlled the four sides. Manda'er and Yang Shisan had each already been drowned unconscious twice.

After coughing twice more, Manda'er lifted his head and looked toward a grove of willows to the east. There sat Qin Jiuze in a chair with a backrest, wearing the white short jacket unique to the Anqing Battalion, fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan in the shade. Two Marine Corps soldiers beside him were even handing him a slice of watermelon.

Manda'er stared blankly for a long moment. "We all came together. How come Old Qin doesn't have to do water training?"

Yang Shisan shook his head in bewilderment. "Maybe he can swim? Never heard him say so."

"Even if he could swim, those soldiers wouldn't be giving him watermelon. Look around — who else have they given watermelon to?"

Suddenly a furious shout rang out nearby. "That Tartar! Who told you to talk!"

The thud of rapid footsteps closed in beside them. Manda'er hurriedly ducked his head. Crack! — a sharp snap. Manda'er's whole body jerked as if jolted by lightning. He kept his head buried and dared not lift it.

The voice roared in anger, "I told you to rest, not to talk!"

Manda'er didn't dare answer. Only when the footsteps receded did he turn his head to look. It was a shirtless Marine Corps soldier — all of them lean, dark, and wiry, each carrying a rod made of old bamboo stick.

These old bamboo rods were rarely seen in the north but common in the south. Being hollow, they weren't heavy, yet they were long and stiff, and struck the body like a whip.

"You're all Night-Not-Returning from the Nine Borders, the elite of our Ming Dynasty's Border Army — and a few gulps of water have you floored? Want to go see the Land Combat Division's pool at Shimen Lake? Hands and feet bound, not allowed near the bank for half a quarter-hour. Anyone who talks again gets an extra hour of drill."

Manda'er lifted his head and looked around, then said quietly to Yang Shisan, "What the hell is this military unit called again?"

Yang Shisan kept his head buried and answered wearily, "Marine Chiliarch Headquarters."

"Marine — what, is there a sky combat unit too? Next time I run into them, I'll make sure they get a taste of their own medicine." Manda'er fumed. "I never took this kind of crap even in Xuanfu."

"Xuanfu didn't pay you full wages either."

Manda'er snorted. Just then a shout came from outside. "Officer inspecting water training — Ranger Cavalry, on your feet."

The Border Army men around them struggled to push themselves up. Chen Bin had already strode over. On his sleeve was sewn the officer's insignia of a Centurion — even the Marine Corps soldiers had to salute him — and beside his armband was the flying-horse emblem of the Ranger Cavalry. Yu Lao'er, Yang Guangdi, and a few others followed behind him.

Before Chen Bin even reached them, he said, "Ranger Cavalry, continue resting. No need to stand."

The group of Border Army men immediately collapsed back down. Yang Guangdi came over and crouched beside them. Tilting his head to look at Manda'er on the ground, he said, "Brother Man, just hold out two more days. They said you'll learn in three days."

Manda'er glared fiercely at those Marine Corps soldiers. "I'll learn in two days."

Yang Shisan pointed toward the willows. "How come Old Qin didn't come to training?"

Yu Lao'er walked over and said, "Qin Jiuze went to be a teacher for the Marine Corps..."

Manda'er asked, baffled, "Old Qin's a rough brute — what kind of teacher could he be?"

Chen Bin came over and nodded. "After rallying to the king, Sir Pang determined that the main enemy is the Eastern Invaders. The Marine Corps also needs to prepare for northern campaigns. Before, the Land Combat Division was only assigned Relay Horses to transmit messages. Now they've been newly assigned a Ranger Cavalry Squad. When they asked the Cavalry Battalion for a teacher, Old Qin volunteered. We thought it was suitable too. The Marine Corps side respects teachers — they said Old Qin can take his water training slowly, teaching while he trains."

"What's he teaching them?"

"Mongol."

Manda'er stared blankly at Yu Lao'er. "I'm the Mongol..."

Suddenly a furious shout came from behind. "Rest period over! Everyone up!"

Several Marine Corps soldiers gripping bamboo poles strode over. Manda'er bared his teeth and cast a resentful glance toward the willows. Qin Jiuze had finished a slice of watermelon and was wiping the corner of his mouth.

Chen Bin rose as well, offered a few words of encouragement to the nearby Ranger Cavalry, then stepped back a few paces with Yang Guangdi and the other officers.

"Begin water training!"

The dozen-plus Marine Corps soldiers raised their bamboo poles and began swinging them. The group of Border Army men on the bank sprang up as one. With a howl, Manda'er was the first to jump into the pond.

Splash after splash flew up beside Matang Lake. Auxiliary troops washing horses rinsed themselves along with the horses at the lake's edge.

Yang Guangdi skirted around those men and horses and followed a Banner Commander into the encampment of the Cavalry's First Division.

The Cavalry Battalion's scale was growing larger and larger. Shipai Town had too many horses. Apart from sharing the large drill ground for exercises, the camp grounds were now divided by division and stationed separately. No one from another division was allowed entry.

Today he had specifically sought out a Banner Commander from the First Cavalry Division. Only after registering his identity badge at the camp gate did the man bring Yang Guangdi inside.

On the south side of the camp ground stretched a long row of stables, basically adjacent to the soldiers' barracks for easy tending and fetching of horses. The Banner Commander he knew pointed out the place for Yang Guangdi. The two parted ways at the small drill ground, and Yang Guangdi headed straight for the stables.

Just like the Ranger Cavalry's camp area, a heavy stench of horse manure hung around the stables, with mountains of forage piled everywhere. Shirtless auxiliary troops led horses out of the camp from time to time.

The wooden door of the Stable Office was ajar. Yang Guangdi reached out and pushed it open. As the door leaf creaked, a figure came into view — someone half-crouched on the ground, weighing out salt grains from a sack of salt in front of him. At the sound of the door, he turned around: a young man around twenty, with several scars on his face and his cheeks covered in sweat.

Their eyes met for an instant. The man's gaze, upon contact with Yang Guangdi's, immediately darted away. Yang Guangdi couldn't help narrowing his eyes. "Is Master Ceng Zhimu here?"

The man made a couple of rasping sounds at Yang Guangdi, pointed to his own mouth, then waved his hand.

Yang Guangdi hesitated a moment. "A mute?"

The man nodded, turned back, and continued weighing the salt. Yang Guangdi had already stepped back outside the door, but after pausing in the doorway for a moment, he entered again, his eyes settling on the man.

"In this heat, aren't you hot wearing long sleeves?"

The man turned around again, shook his head with it lowered. Yang Guangdi slowly walked further into the Stable Office and surveyed the surroundings. There were two bunks inside — meaning two people lived here, so they had to tend the animals at night as well. A few articles of clothing were piled on the beds.

Yang Guangdi reached for the clothes. They all seemed to belong to Old Ceng — he saw no one else's clothing. Yang Guangdi looked down. Under the bed there seemed to be a pair of cloth shoes. Ordinary refugees didn't have shoes; he didn't know if they were Old Ceng's. At that moment, the young man turned slightly, clearly keeping an eye on Yang Guangdi's movements.

Yang Guangdi asked evenly, "Are those your shoes?"

Before the mute could react, a voice suddenly sounded from behind. "Yang lad, you're back!"

Yang Guangdi turned to look and saw Old Ceng standing in the doorway, his face full of delight.

Yang Guangdi hurried over two steps and took Old Ceng by the arm. "As soon as I got back, I went to the old camp area looking for you. They said you'd been transferred to the Zongyang Preparatory Division. I was just worrying about how to find you in Zongyang, and then today they said all the reserve cavalry had been assembled at Shipai. I found out Zongyang's reinforcements went to the First Cavalry Division, so I rushed right over."

Old Ceng chuckled twice, beaming as he looked Yang Guangdi up and down. "Yang lad, you've grown taller and sturdier. The Anqing news-sheets only come out once a month. Every time I heard you'd beaten the Tartars, I was happy, but I was also afraid you'd been hurt by them."

Yang Guangdi thumped his own chest. "Don't you worry, Master Ceng. All minor wounds. The Tartars haven't got the skill to kill me. On that whole journey north, I killed at least five Tartars. I've been promoted to Ranger Cavalry Team Leader now."

"Impressive — a captain of the Roving Cavalry no less." Ceng Zhimu beamed, rubbing his hands together.

Yang Guangdi led Old Man Ceng over to sit on the edge of the bed. The mute on the other side had already turned around and was crouching by the manger, listening to the two of them talk.

"The slaughter up north was brutal. On the way back, they said Local Bandits were stirring near Jinan, so Lord Pang sent us Roving Cavalry to investigate. Everyone in that city was dead. Any place the Tartars passed through — it's just pitiful."

Old Man Ceng sighed. "Shandong had the Smelling Incense Sect before, and then mutinous troops after that. Just when things had quieted down for a couple of years — how are people supposed to live?"

"The Tartars were barbarians to begin with — utterly vicious. They want to live but won't let anyone else. They looted everything they could carry. What they couldn't take, they killed and then torched it clean. The ones who hid couldn't survive either." Yang Guangdi grew angrier as he spoke. "Same with the Roving Bandits — they rob and then set fires, killing for sport. These people are no different from beasts. They know nothing but harming others. When our Anqing Battalion runs into them, we kill every last one. On this return journey, the common folk all along the way remembered our Anqing Battalion. When other military units passed through, everyone fled. When our unit passed through, the people brought food and drink. Many who had no way to survive even followed us all the way back to Anqing."

Ceng Zhimu sighed. The mute kept his eyes on the ground; there was no telling whether he understood.

Yang Guangdi waited a moment, then said, "Master Ceng, I swapped for a new horse — a fine Tartar horse I seized by the Yongding River. I reckon it's about three years old. I'd like you to come take a look for me. If you say it's good too, then it's settled. After swapping horses, I still have to retake several man-and-mount coordination tests, or I won't get full pay."

Ceng Zhimu raised his head. "What about Big Fire?"

"Died at Boping. The Tartars killed him. When he died, it was pitch black — I don't even know exactly where. On the return march, we weren't allowed to break off and search. There was no way to bury him either."

The two fell silent for a moment. Old Man Ceng shook his head. "You said yourself the north was a bloodbath. The news reports say many families were wiped out entirely — not a single Mouth left. Who was there to bury them? Let alone the animals. In your spare moments, just think of him — that's not in vain."

"I do think of him."

The room fell quiet for a moment. Yang Guangdi looked up at the mute. "Is this mute an apprentice you've taken on, Master Ceng?"

Old Man Ceng glanced at the man. "He's a mute who drifted over from Henan. He was working as a Corvée Laborer over in Zongyang. I saw he was quick with his hands and feet, so I kept him on as a Corvée Laborer."

Yang Guangdi knew that Old Man Ceng was the Horse Work Team captain for the First Division and also served as Veterinarian. Corvée Laborers in the battalion were not Auxiliary Troops — they didn't follow the army on campaign, just did manual labor in peacetime. Recruiting a Corvée Laborer was something a Horse Work Team captain could basically decide on his own; the division's logistics advisor couldn't be bothered to even ask.

"If he doesn't speak, how do you know he's from Henan?"

"I asked him. 'Are you from Henan?' He nodded. Then I asked for place names, working my way down until I reached Luoyang, and he nodded again." Ceng Zhimu gave a dry laugh. "Not being able to talk has its merits — saves a lot of trouble."

Yang Guangdi smiled along. "In our Banner, there's a Shaanxi Provincial Commander's Standard Troops Roving Cavalryman who's from Luoyang. We could find him and ask — might clear some things up."

Old Man Ceng's face stiffened. "He's a mute, he can't tell you anything. All he can do is nod or shake his head. A man who drifted here alone like that — even if you got answers, they'd all be painful memories. What's the point of asking? Who knows how much he suffered on the road — he's afraid the moment he sees anyone. Giving him work as a Corvée Laborer is just giving him a meal. Don't go looking for people to question him."

Out of the corner of his eye, Yang Guangdi saw the man stop moving, as if he was paying attention to him.

He looked up at Ceng Zhimu in front of him. "I'll follow your lead, Master Ceng."

Ceng Zhimu stood up. "Let's go look at your horse first. As I was saying, they brought back a lot of horses from the north. Battalion Commander Chen personally named me — told me to report tomorrow to help distribute them. Before Lord Pang returns to Anqing, the cavalry must be brought up to a full fifteen hundred. I'm afraid I won't have a free moment for half a month."