Chapter 38: All Old Acquaintances

Ma Yaozi took a deep breath, steeled himself, and walked out from behind the sand dune with both hands extended. Sure enough, the sharpshooter watching him did not put an arrow into him.

And he also understood why the man he suspected was Young Lord Zhang Erlang had shouted that there were sesame cakes and mutton soup behind the hill — because the Shouchang garrison troops who had just fled into the low woods had already been driven back out by a squad of infantry.

Before Young Lord Zhang Erlang had said he was only looking for him, the infantry on both sides had been in a standoff. After that shout, although neither side had put down their weapons, there was no longer much of a tense, drawn-bow atmosphere, and the Shouchang garrison soldiers' nervousness eased considerably.

"Who are you? We are the Shouchang garrison — government troops! No matter who you are, privately intercepting government troops is tantamount to rebellion, and the penalty is beheading!" Ma Yaozi shouted, fierce in manner but weak at heart.

"Rebellion? This Guiyi Army was first raised in righteous revolt by my great-grandfather, the Grand Guardian. It was won through three generations of bloodshed by my Nanyang Zhang family. Without the Grand Guardian, you would still be slaving away for the Tibetans!" Zhang Zhao laughed aloud as he spoke, removing his vajra face mask.

Ma Yaozi's pupils contracted, and a layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead. It was Young Lord Zhang Erlang — it really was Young Lord Zhang Erlang! Others might not recognize Zhang Zhao, but he did, because Zhang Zhao had been living under surveillance right there in Shouchang County.

Being the great-grandson of Zhang Yichao was a gilded signboard, and Zhang Zhao, of such "heavenly noble lineage," naturally attracted many curious gazes. Ma Yaozi had once served as a guard assigned to watch the Zhang household.

"Ma Yaozi! What did Commissioner Luo send you here to do? Old acquaintances meeting — you had best tell the truth. Don't forget, when your mother passed away, it was I who personally went to chant the Ksitigarbha Fundamental Vow Sutra for her!"

This original Zhang Zhao did have his uses, because he was a devout Buddhist, a lay practitioner who kept his hair and cultivated at home, could recite the Buddhist scriptures from memory, and was a descendant of Zhang Yichao.

So even though the Cao family had ordered the Shouchang County Magistrate to keep him under strict watch, quite a few people still came to his door asking him to perform rites for the deliverance of departed souls and the like.

Especially passing merchants and poor families who could not afford monks. When Ma Yaozi's mother died, it was Zhang Zhao they had asked to perform the deliverance rites.

A look of extreme difficulty appeared on Ma Yaozi's face. To have sutras chanted for one's deceased mother's deliverance was no ordinary kindness in this age — it was a tremendous debt of gratitude.

Although this mother of his was not his true mother, merely a foster family that Commissioner Luo had casually found for him when he was young.

But Ma Yaozi, a wandering orphan who had never known who his mother was, had still found the warmth of home in this old woman. Not a mother, yet better than a mother.

"Ma Yaozi kowtows in thanks for the young lord's great kindness, but I beg your pardon — I cannot answer your question!" Ma Yaozi shouted as he knelt down.

Ma Yaozi knew perfectly well whose kindness to him was greater, Zhang Zhao's or Luo Xianda's, so he would absolutely never betray Luo Xianda.

But the matter Luo Xianda had charged him with — he could no longer bring himself to say it either. This Young Lord Zhang Erlang had actually received the Grand Guardian's divine manifestation and the gift of golden armor, and had won over so many horse bandits. Then Luo Xianda's so-called plan of giving him a few horses and some money and grain to flee had become a joke, hadn't it?

"This is Young Lord Zhang Erlang? Wasn't it said he went to Leiyin Temple to have his head shaved? What's he doing here?"

"The young lord! It's the young lord! I've seen him before!"

"Third Brother Zhang, is it true that the Grand Guardian manifested and bestowed golden armor? You're also surnamed Zhang — tell us!"

Seeing Ma Yaozi kneel, and hearing Ma Yaozi call out "Young Lord Zhang Erlang," the Shouchang garrison soldiers immediately set their hearts at ease.

People of this era had an extremely strong sense of local attachment. Zhang Zhao had been brought to Shouchang to live when he was just over two years old, and although he was not familiar with many of these men, almost all of them had grown up in the same era as him.

In their eyes, Young Lord Zhang Erlang was a Shouchang man. And since he was a Shouchang man, he certainly would not harm them.

Zhang Zhao was also somewhat taken aback. He had expected a great battle, yet as soon as a crowd of people heard he was Young Lord Zhang Erlang, they either shouted from a distance to claim a connection, or looked at him with awe tinged with self-consciousness. This was the sole bloodline of the Grand Guardian Zhang Yichao — noble to the heavens.

It seemed the Cao family's wariness of Zhang Yichao's descendants was not without reason.

"Fellow neighbors, I have prepared some food. You've traveled so far, you must be hungry. Let's get something hot first and make an offering to the temple of the five organs!"

Since there was no damn need to fight at all, Zhang Zhao simply took off his phoenix-wing helmet and waved his hand — eat first!

"Our thanks to Young Lord Zhang Erlang!"

"Young Lord Zhang Erlang is righteous and benevolent!"

The group of Shouchang garrison soldiers sheathed their blades and returned their arrows to their quivers with laughter and chatter, thanking Zhang Zhao. None of them so much as glanced at Ma Yaozi, still kneeling on the ground.

These fellows were all shrewd. Ma Yaozi had said he was bringing them to do some private business for Commissioner Luo — rounding up a few Uyghur horse bandits who had robbed Commissioner Luo's property. But what had it turned out to be? An ambush on Young Lord Zhang Erlang.

And the Young Lord Zhang Erlang who had originally been a vegetarian and a devout chanter of sutras had suddenly donned golden armor and subdued so many horse bandits.

This was clearly some grudge between great clans. How would small soldiers like them dare get involved? All they wanted was to find a chance to get Young Lord Zhang Erlang to let them leave.

The "barbarian sesame cakes" were just sesame flatbreads — golden in color, crisp on the outside, soft and sweet within. Zhang Zhao's version in particular had an extra-thick layer of sesame seeds on top, making them even more fragrant, crisp, and delicious.

As for the mutton soup, there was no need to say more — seasoned with pepper, dried dogwood, and pine wood, the aroma!

The Shouchang garrison soldiers, whose hearts had still been somewhat uneasy, instantly forgot everything. The two groups together, seventy or eighty men in all, fell to eating and drinking heartily on the hillside not far from the stronghold. Even the horses had fodder to eat. The scene was indescribably strange, yet carried a faint hint of harmony.

Zhang Zhao ate with great relish, a bite of flatbread and a mouthful of mutton soup, while the cheerful Shouchang garrison soldiers gathered around him.

In the past, although Zhang Zhao had lived in Shouchang, he had basically stayed inside a deep compound, and not many of the soldiers had seen him. Now that the distance had closed, these fellows automatically gathered around him. They did not speak, just watched Zhang Zhao with silly grins, as if flowers were blooming on his face.

If it had been the old Zhang Zhao, just being surrounded by so many people would probably have triggered his social anxiety and given him PTSD on the spot.

But the transmigrated Zhang Zhao was the complete opposite. It wasn't that he had some social fearlessness disorder — it was that this fellow had originally been in the armor and cold-weapons combat circles in the modern era.

What were these elite Shouchang garrison soldiers? Weren't they just a bunch of armor-wearing, cold-weapon-wielding homicidal maniacs?

They might look simple and honest now, but if you examined each one closely, by modern law, execution by firing squad would be getting off lightly.

Which of them didn't have several lives on their hands? As for extorting the nomadic unregistered households who came down from the Qilian Mountains, robbing horse bandits who robbed other bandits, and even occasionally robbing passing merchants — that was all small stuff!

The armies of this era were nothing like the mighty and civilized forces of a republic. These fellows — even the later American army would probably look disciplined compared to them.

And Bai Congxin, Qiong Reduojin, and the others whom Zhang Zhao had won over had done no less evil, if not more. This was simply the society of the age. If you met a benevolent lord, an honest man might still have a way to survive, but most of those who prospered were such blood-soaked fighting men whom even a modern firing squad would be too light a punishment for.

The group chatted more and more happily, even exchanging and demonstrating their insights on killing, boasting of battlefield heroics, or of who had once caught a beauty who came down from the Qilian Mountains and what he did with her, or who had hacked to death several foreign merchants who had flashed their wealth, and after the score had bought a big house and married a lovely wife, and so on.

"What's this? Ma Yaozi, screw your mother, you thieving slave — do you expect me to feed you the flatbread with my own hands? Just looking at you makes me angry. Get over there and fill your belly first, then I'll settle accounts with you!"

All chapters have been cached for you. Download the APP to view them.