Chapter 25: The Mule-Riding Wu Song and the Pathetic Great Suck

In the Water Margin world, Yanggu County.

“Hurry up, get all these things onto the cart!”

At the Zhang family’s front gate, the family steward Zhang Zhong was urging the servants to load crates onto the carriage.

“Uncle Zhong, is this really necessary?”

“I’m just going to Jinan for the exam, not moving there to live.”

Zhang Jie, standing nearby, watched the old steward’s moving-like behavior and couldn’t help but laugh and sigh.

More than half a month had passed in the Heaven Sword world; more than half a month had passed in the Water Margin world too.

The time had advanced from June, when Zhang Jie first arrived in the shared space, to mid-July.

Less than half a month remained until the August provincial examination.

Zhang Jie must now depart from Yanggu County for Jinan, the site of Shandong’s provincial examination.

Zhang Jie was fortunate—Yanggu County lay in western Shandong,

only about two hundred li straight-line distance from Jinan in central Shandong,

with towns along the way; if he hurried, he could reach it in roughly seven or eight days.

Some who lived farther away, on poor roads, needed to depart over a month in advance.

Even then, they had to silently pray they wouldn’t encounter bandits or highway robbers, or they might never return.

“Master’s journey is a pivotal leap from carp to dragon—no amount of care is too much.”

The old steward replied while continuing to direct the servants as they loaded baskets of pots, pans, and utensils onto the cart.

“Master, since childhood, you’ve never been away from home this long,

to such a distant place. How can this old servant possibly rest easy?”

As he spoke, the steward’s eyes grew red.

He had been as a brother to Zhang Jie’s father, Master Zhang,

and had watched Zhang Jie grow up—he saw Zhang Jie as his own son.

Now his frail, sickly son must travel a thousand li—how could he not worry?

If not for the Zhang family’s affairs needing him, he would have gone to Jinan with Zhang Jie.

“Alright, alright, Uncle Zhong, I’ll take all of it—I’ll take everything.”

The old steward had said so much, his concern plain as day—what could Zhang Jie say?

He could only obediently comply.

“Renjie, your health must come first on this journey.

If you fail this time, there’s always next time—don’t push yourself too hard.”

Zhang Jie’s teacher, Master Li, also advised him.

As his teacher, he knew better than anyone how frail this student’s body was;

if Zhang Jie insisted on taking the exam while ill, he might die right in the examination hall!

Though he hoped Zhang Jie would fulfill his own unachieved imperial examination dream,

he first and foremost wished for this student to remain healthy.

Only Pan Jinlian knew of Zhang Jie’s current robust, ox-like physique.

“Teacher, I understand.”

Zhang Jie bowed respectfully.

Soon, the carriage was packed full of boxes of all sizes.

“Master, it’s getting late—let’s set off.”

Wu Song, serving as bodyguard, glanced at the sun and walked over to Zhang Jie.

“Mm.”

Zhang Jie nodded.

“Uncle Zhong, Teacher, I’m off.”

Zhang Jie bade farewell to the old steward and Master Li.

“May you rise to the top of the imperial list and walk a brilliant path ahead!”

The old steward and Master Li said nothing else, but together offered Zhang Jie their best wishes.

“May you rise to the top of the imperial list and walk a brilliant path ahead!”

The Zhang family’s servants, maids, and laborers all paused their work to bless Zhang Jie.

“Thank you.”

Zhang Jie bowed to each one in return.

“Let’s go, Jinlian.”

Zhang Jie called to Pan Jinlian beside him.

“Yes, Master.”

Pan Jinlian, dressed in fitted travel attire, replied brightly.

Zhang Jie and Pan Jinlian entered the carriage, the one reserved for passengers.

“Giddy-up! Giddy-up!”

With the driver’s whip cracking, the small convoy of three carriages began its slow journey.

The convoy soon wound its way out of the city gate, leaving Yanggu County behind.

“Huh! Whose noble son is this? Such a grand procession?”

A traveling merchant, seeing this spectacle, was astonished and puzzled.

“That’s the carriage of Master Zhang, the famed examination prodigy of Yanggu County.

Master Zhang is heading to Jinan for the provincial exam,

and when he returns, we’ll have to address him as ‘Examination Graduate Master’!”

A local from Yanggu County proudly introduced Zhang Jie to the merchant.

“So he’s the examination prodigy,” the merchant understood.

In Great Song, where the Emperor and the scholar-officials ruled the realm together,

the imperial examinations were the most important matter—no amount of emphasis was too great.

When he traded in Jiangnan,

he had seen aristocratic sons charter entire three-decked riverboats just to attend the exams!

On the convoy, Zhang Jie, seated inside the carriage, leaned out the window to apologize to Wu Song, who patrolled outside:

“Brother Wu, I’m sorry to make you ride this way—I’ll find you a fine steed someday.”

“Master, what nonsense are you speaking? I’m quite satisfied with this mount.”

Wu Song replied casually, reaching out to stroke the mane of the animal beneath him.

Yes—Wu Song’s mount was neither horse nor donkey, but a… mule!

No choice: Wu Song’s towering frame and massive build weighed over two hundred and fifty jin.

Ordinary horses simply couldn’t carry him for long.

As Cao Chengxiang once asked Guan Yu in Romance of the Three Kingdoms:

“Yunchang, why is your steed so thin?”

Guan Yu replied: “My body is heavy—the horse cannot carry me, so it appears thin.”

Remember, Guan Yu rode military warhorses—yet Wu Song weighed even more than Guan Yu,

so it was only natural no suitable horse could be found.

Moreover, Wu Song was very tall; riding a normal horse felt like riding a foal—undignified.

According to Zhang Jie’s estimation, only a legendary steed like Chi Tu—“the man among men, Lu Bu; the horse among horses, Chi Tu”—could bear Wu Song across the battlefield.

But such a steed was a heavenly gift; perhaps one appeared in an entire era.

With no other option, Zhang Jie found a strong, mature mule, five chi tall (about 1.5 meters),

powerful and tireless, to serve as Wu Song’s mount.

The mule could carry Wu Song easily—the only flaw was its slow speed;

fine for travel, useless in battle.

Why didn’t Zhang Jie just find a warhorse for Wu Song?

It wasn’t for lack of trying—Wu Song’s physical demands were simply too extreme, and the Great Suck’s horses were utterly inadequate.

Wu Song’s physique has already been explained—no need to repeat.

But the Great Suck’s utter inadequacy must be thoroughly discussed.

For horse breeding, good bloodlines and good pastures are both indispensable.

Where were the best horse breeds?

Answer: in the Liao.

The best pastures were usually in cold, high-altitude regions—with long mountains, deep valleys, lush grass, and sweet springs—ideal for grazing.

The best horse pastures are usually located in cold, high-altitude regions, with long mountains and deep valleys, lush grass, and sweet springs, ideal for grazing horses.

Answer: again, in the Liao.

The Great Suck had neither good bloodlines nor good pastures, and with the Liao-Song…

My Great Cowardice never had good horse breeds or horse pastures, let alone with the Liao and Song,

After the Xia-Song peace treaty, military readiness relaxed, and horse ranches were massively seized by aristocratic families and nobles.

Coupled with a sharp population increase to tens of millions, conflicts between farming and herding grew severe, and people frequently converted horse ranches into farmland.

Added to this was the “heavy infantry, light cavalry” strategy and poor horse administration,

our Great Con failed to breed many horses suitable for war.

As a result, during the Jingkang Humiliation, facing the Jin, even with the entire nation’s resources, they could only muster barely 20,000 cavalry.

The Great Con court treated its scarce warhorses as if they were eyeballs,

something a mere scholar like Zhang Jie could never obtain.

For Zhang Jie to acquire a warhorse, he’d have to wait until he became a Minister of the Six Ministries,

a high official like one of the Three Ducal Ministers or Nine Senior Officials!

If asked who in the world was most skilled in cavalry warfare,

some might say Huo Qubing, who carved his name on Yanran Mountain,

others might say Genghis Khan, who swept across Eurasia, or even Alexander and Napoleon,

but Zhang Jie believed it should be the former British Prime Minister, nicknamed the “Iron Lady,” Margaret Thatcher.

Don’t doubt it—she was the architect of the Battle of Algeciras,

who defeated six thousand peasant rebels with only fifty light cavalry and returned victorious!

Margaret Thatcher: If you’re not afraid of British cavalry, you’re no ordinary protester—you must be met with a heavy fist!

…

The caravan moved orderly and arrived at a town by evening, per its schedule.

With the negotiation of an old man who had worked for the Zhang family’s merchant caravan for over a decade,

Zhang Jie and the others smoothly checked into a “Yue Lai Inn.”

When Zhang Jie saw the name, he couldn’t help internally scoffing:

“Could the Yue Lai Inn possibly be backed by some supreme transcendent?

Otherwise, why does every world have an inn named ‘Yue Lai’?”

That night, after ensuring Pan Jinlian fell into blissful sleep, Zhang Jie, as usual, entered the shared space.

The Water Margin Zhang Jie entered the shared space to find the Legend of the Condor Zhang Jie dressed in a blue martial outfit,

a long sword at his waist, the classic look of a young martial hero.

“You’ve come.”

The Legend of the Condor Zhang Jie held his sword in his arms and spoke in a low voice.

Instantly understanding, the Water Margin Zhang Jie deliberately lowered his voice too:

“I’ve come.”