Chapter 37: Scramble for the Spoils

Nailing horseshoes was called "hanging the shoe" in ancient China.

The horse is an animal that has actually mastered the special skill of galloping on its toenails. In the wild, the wear and growth of its hooves reach a natural balance, but when put into human service, that natural rhythm is disrupted — whether carrying a rider or hauling cargo, hoof wear increases, which is why horseshoeing became necessary.

Cao Yao had left a few horses with Sister-in-law Cao. Normally she never went out, but the hooves kept growing anyway. Without wear, the previously nailed-on shoes inevitably loosened.

The reason it was called "hanging the shoe" was not only because the shoe is hung onto the hoof, but also because in most places, during the shoeing process, the horse itself would be hung up to keep it from kicking anyone.

Whether shoeing hurts or not depends on the skill of the hand — it is essentially a craft similar to doing a manicure, though if you rip up the nail bed while doing that manicure, it will certainly hurt.

But whether a horse kicks during shoeing does not depend on whether it hurts; the key lies in its temperament and whether it is accustomed to having its hooves lifted.

People have their tempers, and horses have theirs too.

Ever since Liu Chengzong began learning to ride, he had seen many horses over the years. Some had easygoing natures and would not get angry no matter how you fussed with them; others had violent tempers and would kick the moment they saw someone draw near.

Then there were those with a sneaky, rotten streak — looking gentle and compliant day to day, letting you do anything, until the moment you let your guard down and they suddenly lashed out with a kick from behind. It would be no surprise if it laid a man flat for ten days to half a month.

The horse Liu Chengzong borrowed from Sister-in-law Cao was a warhorse, stubborn as could be, and absolutely refused to walk up to the shoeing post. Liu Chengzong had no choice but to risk lifting the hoof from the side and clamping it between his legs to trim it.

Of course, for such dangerous work, a bit of ancestral quantum superstition was indispensable. The newly taken-in butcher Guo Zhashi was invited to the stable and sat to one side on a camp stool, holding the fort.

The butcher's real name was Guo Ruqi. According to him, everywhere he had been, dogs either barked madly without stopping or stood frozen like wooden chickens — never once had they acted normal.

Liu Chengzong had another set of memories. Though he could not explain the matter, he figured it was most likely that someone who had slaughtered many pigs carried a different scent on their body, and a dog's keen nose could pick it out.

This "special ability" was probably just like that of the master who taught him the beheading saber — that old executioner from Mizhi County had an even more formidable "special ability."

Never mind animals — even people dared not speak to him.

As Liu Chengzong used the hoof knife to swiftly clean the filth from the middle of the hoof, he explained to the two of them, "Only as a last resort should you trim hooves and change shoes this way. If you absolutely must do it like this... hand me the shoe."

As he spoke, he took the horseshoe and nails from Sixteen and, without pausing his hands, said, "You have to be fast. If you can finish trimming in one stroke, don't use two. Big livestock are strong, and you never know when they'll kick you."

For some reason, as he said this, an image flashed through Liu Chengzong's mind of this very horse suddenly pulling back its leg, leaping up, and kicking him square in the rear.

If that actually happened, it would probably be of far greater educational value to Guo Ruqi and Sixteen.

Fortunately, this warhorse, its entire coat a glossy, sleek black, did not lash out. It even seemed to find the shoeing comfortable, its eyes narrowing in an expression of pure enjoyment.

To it, this was probably just like getting a pedicure.

With the warhorse's excellent cooperation, Liu Chengzong handled the task with ease. Swiftly and expertly, he used the hoof knife to scrape away the grime in the middle of the hoof, pared down the excess hoof wall, switched to a small hammer to nail the shoe on, then bent the sharp tips of the nails over from the outside of the hoof. In no time, three hooves were done.

Trimming the hoof wall is a technical job. If the thickness of the hoof wall varies across the four feet, the horse, walking long distances, will easily go lame and become unserviceable. Liu Chengzong was very practiced at this — practically half a professional.

At the very least, he was more reliable than the village blacksmith who doubled as the horseshoeing master.

Just as he finished three hooves and lifted the horse's last foot, the sound of galloping hooves rang out in the village.

His expression instantly turned grave. By instinct, he grabbed the leather belt and saber hanging on the hitching post and shot Sixteen a look. "Go see who it is."

Before Sixteen could run from the stable to the spirit screen at the gate, the hoofbeats outside the house had already stopped. Immediately after, a shout rang out: "Sixteen, bring some people to carry a few benches! I'm going to ladle some water — dying of thirst!"

It was his elder brother, Liu Chengzu.

Liu Chengzong finally relaxed. He put his belt back, wiped his hands, and walked out of the stable. Listening to the clanking of armor plates outside the gate, he watched as those familiar border-army veterans filed in from either side of the spirit screen, making even the originally very spacious courtyard feel crowded.

Cao Yao tipped his waterskin back and gulped down two mouthfuls before passing it to someone else, then walked up grinning. "Lion, your old brother is back again!"

As he spoke, his expression paused, and he raised an eyebrow toward the stable. "You got the horse out?"

"Brother Cao, I was just shoeing the horse when I heard you all coming. You probably know about the bandits up north — I was planning to go check things out there. If I ran into trouble, Red Banner alone wouldn't be enough to get away."

Cao Yao nodded repeatedly as he listened, then waved a hand. "Don't go. That bunch of scoundrels is still at Old Temple Village. The next few days, prepare for battle."

"Fuck their granny. I'd just opened a new cave in the mountains, and then those whelps came passing through in wave after wave. I watched what happened at Old Temple Village with my own eyes and didn't dare make a move — there were just too many of them."

"This bunch are veteran bandits — lots of horses, donkeys, and mules."

Cao Yao was truly miserable. He had originally led his men down to Xingping Village at Black Dragon King Temple Mountain, but had not enjoyed many comfortable days.

He knew his own brothers under his command had all been bandits before — their hands were not clean and their tempers not mild. Fearing that conflict between soldiers and civilians would affect his relationship with the Chengzu and Chengzong brothers, he had taken his men away to start anew elsewhere.

Life in the mountains to the north was certainly not as good as staying in Xingping Village. Digging cave dwellings and building camps was all dirty, exhausting work. They also had to send men to contact the surrounding villages — if there were rich households, they would extort whatever they could; if extortion was hard, they would negotiate bartering for daily necessities, which at least covered their costs.

At any rate, they could scrape by.

A bunch of living bandits setting up camp for over ten days, so tired every day they could barely keep their eyes open — what was it all for? Wasn't it just to shelter the villagers for miles around, to survive in this ever-worsening chaotic world?

He was a wicked man, but bandits had their own rules. Even a wolf, if it wants to survive, has to make sure there are sheep around. Beyond ten li, even if the dead piled up into mountains of corpses and seas of bones, it was none of his concern — but the villages around him could not fall into chaos.

As long as his surroundings did not fall into chaos, his band of men could survive.

And now, even this small, modest happiness was gone.

Wang Zuogua had suffered a minor defeat at the hands of government troops in Yaozhou, losing three hundred men in total. The several thousand troops he had gathered scattered and fled in all directions. Wave after wave of bandits — today a dozen men robbed a teahouse on the official road, tomorrow several dozen stormed the surrounding villages.

The day after, over a hundred well-equipped bandit riders would dare to charge into Old Temple Village, slaughter all the able-bodied men, and drag away the young women and young wives to commit their atrocities and revel in their evil.

Once they left, everything around here that remained for Cao Yao would be a no-man's-land. Then what meaning was there in him staying?

"These dog-spawn never planned to stay long in Yan'an Prefecture. After they butchered Old Temple Village, this place is next. We ran into some of those scoundrels on our way here today... You discuss with Old Master Liu whether to stay here and hold out, or to leave and lie low for a while."