When they met again on the following day, he observed Qu Fongning’s fingering all perfectly composed and much more accurate than the day before. After every shot, however, he would bite hard on his lips, as if suppressing an immense pain. On a side-glance, Yujien saw the bellies of his fingers covered with wounds and were sloppily wrapped with pitiful stripes of bandage. He chuckled in his head. “This child has a candid heart, told him to draw, and he really drew for a whole night,” he thought. Yet determined to test him, he continued, without pity, to repeatedly order Qu Fongning to practice shooting. Qu Fongning sustained through clenching his teeth, in the end, the blisters broke, and the bandages were spotted with blood. By this point Oyghrmuki noticed as well. He cried and yelled in bewilderment, and took out various vulneraries wanting to help dress the wounds, whilst prattling on and on entreating him. Qu Fongning agreed on his lips, but practiced even more vehemently. And within three to five days, his hands had ballooned to a bread dough, and almost couldn’t hold the bow properly. When Oyghrmuki saw it, he signed in exasperation: “Such a small person, but such a strong temperament, can almost rival the General of the old days!”

Yujien heard and slanted him a look. Although he said nothing, his glance belied the meaning of approval.

Qu Fongning was absorbed in his practice, and noticed nothing. His comprehension had always been superb, his handwork was perfect, and he had complete control with the force. After precepting the theory of Resonating Harmony, his heart knew the precise parabola and the direction of the arrow, and the only thing holding him back was the deficiency in strength. In the beginning, he would think for a long time after every arrow, on planning and calculation in his head. And in a month and two, after he grasped the way, his speed picked up more and more. The aim also improved in finesse; no matter the distance or movement, it would only take one shot. The phenomenal acceleration of his progress was truly staggering.

Yujien never gave a word of praise, and his teachings also grew stringent through the days. But in his heart, he also felt a quiet amazement. For he had achieved renown for many years, and the ones who wished to learn archery from him numbered as many as fishes in the waters; all came in high spirits, and all failed upon the first hurdle of initiation. Because of his innate extraordinary vision, he not only could see in the darkness and far distance, he could also perceive the direction, trace, and the drop of things from the subtle shifts of wind and movements of grass, all without the slightest discrepancy. Others do not have the talent, thus no matter how he taught them, they could never grasp the essence.

Thus, an aptitude like Qu Fongning could only be found, and not sought for! Furthermore, the most fortunate thing about this novice was that all his postures and habits were taught fresh directly by him, and to perfection. With such high talents, and extreme diligence, the growth really burst like the shooting bamboo, and obvious to cursory observation. He was occupied with a multitude of affairs in the army, had initially planned to come every ten days or half a month, and let him practice at liberty in the interim. But Qu Fongning’s incredible advancement was traveling at a thousand li a day, it was as if he planted a flower tree, and it raised at dawn and grew at night—one day it sprouted a little leaf, and another day it extends a new branch—In the blink of an eye, it secretly burst thick of flourishing branches and luxuriant foliage. Hence if he didn’t see him for a day, his heart would be in a state of ample solicitude. Qu Fongning had nothing else on his heart. He came by the water every morning to complete the day’s work by multifold and never disappointed his expectations. A master meeting a virtuous disciple, a general finding a fine talent, is nothing more than this.

At first, Oyghrmuki would conduct his daily gags on the side, then he observed the advancing intimacy between the two; even though their words weren’t voluminous, sometimes with only a glance or gesture, they would understand each other’s meanings. He recognized his unwantedness, and took joy in not coming altogether.

Before long, months wheeled by, and the weather passed into the autumn chill. The water level of the Mei waters went from deep to shallow and gradually dried up. Qu Fongning’s archery work had entered an optimal stage—name a grass tip, he would shoot a grass tip, and the rest of the plant would remain unmoved. Yujien drew on the water banks for him, nineteen lines on each orthogonal axis, a go board with its entirety no bigger than the size of a palm. It was half a li away, and he ordered him to shoot the star points. This really stumped him, and he gnawed on his fingers for a good long while. His hands were dressed full of bandages, and this bite caused the linen to fall off, dragging a long strip fluttering in the wind. Yujien found it interesting. It so happened that his throat was dry, and he went back to Shadow Leaper to take down the waterskin and to find him a roll of bandage on the way. He had been on the war campaign for many years, always at the forefront on his horse through large and small battles, and knife wounds and arrow injuries were as common as meals. In theory, he should be compactly prepared with vulneraries and dressings. However, he searched around and found nothing, and instead dug out severall of silk ribbons of pale lilac sheen and delicate texture. He turned it around for investigation; they were printed with the various crests of the Chienye noble houses.

Yujien understood the intent and chuckled silently at Oyghrmuki’s meddlings. By this point Qu Fongning had come to his back, seeming trying to say something to him, “General,” he called, but received no response. He felt a sudden pang of unease, and urged once more, “aye!”

This sort of grave impertinence was the first Yujien had heard. He couldn’t help laughing in his heart and purposely feigned offence. “What’s with the clamoring? Haven’t got any nice things to call? The old boy has been teaching you for this long, hurry call Mastyer!” he said.

Qu Fongning heard his tone and gauged its potency. With a flick of his eyes, he regarded him with open brazenness. “Not calling!” he said.

This voice, both naïve and supple, differed completely from his usual solemn and deferential “General,” or “I understand”; it was not at all like the proper, disciplined, and sweet student. Yujien found it refreshing and straightened his face to sit down. “Then what? I already drank your ceremonial wine for apprenticeship. It would not do not to call!” he berated, but the laughter in his tone deepened; now it was impossible to hide.

Qu Fongning became even more fearless, and said, looking at him, “That doesn’t count! If I live under this status, and I do any sort of great thing in the future, other will only say, ‘Wow, look, this is so and so, as expected from General Yujien’s student, truly exceptional!’” As he spoke, he pointed to a row of geese in the sky, “I’m not going to hide under your wing. I shall be above the clouds, flying alongside you!” He saw him sitting, and followed to plop down in front of him.

Yujien had never heard such a novel statement. If anyone learned anything from him, even for only a minute, none would not be utterly exuberant, and would sooner brag about it everywhere, only hating they could not carve his name on their faces, to let thousands behold them. He rarely admired anyone, but by now he also could not help silently commending him: “Such high temperance!” Pulling forth his hand, he undid his bandages round and round.

Qu Fongning saw he didn’t respond, felt embarrassed, and told him softly, “General, I am just speaking off the cuff. I can’t express how happy I am to be your student. I am laughing out loud in my dreams!”

Yujien observed his hands, covered with wounds and blisters, and the right middle three fingers were already somewhat distorted. Taken aback, he finally retrieved the ribbons to help him patch up. Hearing his words, he smiled. “Then call Mastyer!” he said.

Qu Fongning placed his little palm in his broad hand, intimate in propinquity, and ever more dauntless. “Not calling!”

This call was soft and mellow, even the articulation was off, and contained a touch more coquetry from before. Yujien held out his palm and gently patted his cheeks, smiling, “Got some big nerves!” he said.

Qu Fongning tilted his head into his hand, as if taking pride with his guts, and started to giggle.

By the time all ten of his fingers were dressed in pale lilac, Yujien finally asked, “What were you asking me for just now?”

Qu Fongning finally remembered and ahhed. “I wasn’t sure of my control on the force and wanted to ask the General to demonstrate.”

Yujien was in good spirits. “Come!” he beckoned, looped him with one arm, leaped up the horse, and galloped many li yonder. Turning to look, not to mention go board or star points, one couldn’t even see the riverbank.

Shadow Leaper ran as swift as the wind. Qu Fongning only felt the violent jolts and bumps, and was dizzy and disoriented in his head and eyes. Just as he was going to open his lips to inquire, Yujien extended his arm, held over the short bow in his hand—the galloping did not stop—backhanded to nock, and the shots went out instantaneously.

Qu Fongning widened his eyes in watch, and saw five streaks of long black light, ascending straight towards the open air above the riverbank, then dropping vertically from directly above, and silently falling beneath the banks.

He could not believe it in his heart. By the time Shadow Leaper ran back to the riverbank, he lowered to look, and saw the go board exactly as before, but the five arrows was standing perfectly vertical on the four corners and center, with the half-cun arrowheads thrusted fully into the muddy earth, not disturbing at the slightest any other star points.

Qu Fongning exhaled a deep breath in his arms. “I can also practice to do this?” he asked, leaning back his face.

Yujien felt the warmness of his back and the zealousness in his eyes, and smiled. “Why not? With your acumen, ten years should be enough!” he said.

Qu Fongning regarded the five arrows again. “If only I had met you ten years ago. I wonder if the General takes five-year-old students?” he enquired gently.

Yujien laughed out loud, “I probably wouldn’t have time to teach you when I was twenty.” He passed back the bow and arrows, and told him the theories of bearing weight with lightness and the balancing of force.

Rustling noises suddenly sounded behind his back; he thought it was Oyghrmuki. But turning to look, it was a hunched back, sullen faced middle-aged man, who was standing bewildered beyond the grass tickets. Upon seeing him, he furthered his befuddlement at the whereabouts of his limbs.

Qu Fongning was surprised to see him as well. “Uncle Hwei!” he cried. Spinning on one arm, he jumped neatly and handsomely off the horse, and sprinted away with a chain of dings and lings.

Uncle Hwei, in a face full of alarm, swayed his hands relentlessly. Qu Fongning turned his head to look at Yujien and returned a liberal gesture. Considering this with his expression, it was probably the meaning of, “It’s alright, it’s no biggie.” Uncle Hwei regarded him with a look of apprehension, full of reverence in his countenance, saluted repeatedly, then pulled Qu Fongning aside, communicating rapidly in hand gestures.

Qu Fongning looked at him with devotion, and answered from time to time in sign language. His hands were wrapped in a thick layer, yet his movements remained fluid, the little palms flew like two little butterflies, mesmerizing the onlooker. Yujien stood far by the waterside, casually grazing the chin of his horse.

In a short moment, the two concluded their discourse. Uncle Hwei signaled Qu Fongning to hurry back, saluted Yujien from afar, and meant to leave. Yujien saw Qu Fongning dashing forth, and smiled, “You are going to the Autumn Contests?” he asked.

Qu Fongning was startled. Even Uncle Hwei raised his head in alarm, appearing wanting to ask, but was afraid to open the inquiry. Qu Fongning rushed forth the question instead, “General knows sign language?”

“I wouldn’t say fluent, I can understand a little,” said Yujien, extended his hand, made a series of overturning movements, fake clasped his palm, and at last waved his hand. Uncle Hwei was thoroughly impressed, with one hand covering the sky, another pointing to the earth, he bowed with his remaining thumbs in a position of prostrating in five. In sign language, it meant “all knowing, and all venerated.”

Yujien shook his head gently. “That’s not it. I had a son who was born unable to speak, so I learned some with him,” he said.

This was the first time Qu Fongning heard him speaking about his son. His heart pounded wildly. Uncle Hwei bowed solemnly in expressing his condolences.

Yujien waved his hand, showing no problem. Qu Fongning was about to take a step. Suddenly, his heart lurched. “General, do you know the meaning of that gesture?” he inquired.

Yujien overturned his hand. “This? Doesn’t it more or less mean farewell?” he said.

“That’s not it,” said Qu Fongning with surprise. He repeated the gesture. “This message means, ‘I shall never regret.””

Yujien’s shoulders jerked, and a moment later, he slowly opened his lips. “Oh, really?”

These two words, surprisingly, involved some faint shreds of strange sentiments, seeming to be guilt, or seeming to be disbelief.

Qu Fongning and Uncle Hwei exchanged a glance, uncertain of its meaning. Seeing that he was somewhat spirited away, he called in an approach, “General?”

Yujien returned his attention. “Nothing. Come, I’ll teach you!” And he drew at liberty. Yet they heard a clack — the rigid bow broke into three pieces.

It seemed that he hadn’t come back to his senses. “It broke?” he said.

“Hmm, it’s alright! I’ll ask them to make another one.” He gathered the broken bow and intended to bid his farewells.

“The contests are about to begin. How can you wait? I’ll requite you a good one!” He coiled the horsewhip, and took him trotting towards the City of Ghosts.

~

The Autumn Contests is Chienye’s annual grand festival, it calls upon all the outstanding young men of the tribe to compete in three sports, horse racing, wrestling, and archery. The winner is called “Damu,” which means valiance without match, for it is the highest honor for the common folk. Therein, the archery contest is held on the third day, and it is the most important section, hence it really cannot wait.

Qu Fongning had never set foot in the City of Ghosts, and didn’t dare to search his gaze left and right. He only observed that the city gates were built heavily weighted, extremely tall, and were constructed entirely with black stone. The roads in the city were broad and leveled. And all was lifelessly silent.

It struck solemn awe to his heart. “The legendary one against a hundred ghost army lurks within this cloud of gloom?”

Suddenly, a chain of explosive cries erupted from the martial courts, like a thundering tempest, cracking a mountain, and shattering the earth. It all bursted abruptly within the darkness, so unforeseen as to start a quake down the crown of one’s skull.

Yujien tightened the arm around his waist. “Do not fright, they are practicing a formation!” he reassured.

Qu Fongning hummed through his nose, but instead he thought, “The voice of tens of thousands as if the voice of one! What kind of person can train a formation into this?”

~

The City of Ghosts was surrounded on three sides by a black stone wall, and the eastern fortification leveraged the natural topography by standing erect beneath a towering precipice. This cliff, steep to the highest degree, was as if axe-cleaved or saber-sliced from divine providence, sweeping perpetually the winds of heaven and earth, and thus it was called Sky Gale Cliff—Yujien presided on the peak of the stony precipice, like a black claymore guarding adjacent this crown jewel of Jursu Heights. In the distance, the vestures of yurts loomed faintly into view. The largest main ger had the color of black sky, and above it fluttered high an indigo banner embroidered with a huge, sanguinary nvquay, looking exceedingly striking in the night air.

There were checkpoints set up beneath the Sky Gale Cliff, with multiple guards standing in position with their heads raised high, and figures stalwart like iron bars. Seeing a strange face in front of the General Commander’s horse, no heads made any movements, even their vision did not make any sweeps, and they only bowed in salute as Shadow Leaper passed by.

The pair arrived hither, and saw an enormous rectangular great ger, raised directly from the ground with a remarkably spacious interior; it was supposedly a place for receiving guests and conducting feasts. Yujien’s own personal quarters had a distinctive high ceiling, and the stools and stoves were much larger than the standard; it was probably because of his colossal figure. Other than that, it was not particularly special. The imposing manner was all there, which was needless to describe, but speaking of luxury and extravagance, it paled in comparison to the Lord Prince Qu’s house.

Yujien took him in, dropped the lance, and offhandedly directed his finger. “Pick it yourself!” he said.

Qu Fongning raised his head to look, and his breath halted still.

On a spread of dark crimson floor to ceiling curtain, hung a manifold of large and small bows; swords, spears, and lances in oblique or prostrate positions, heavy with sinister, and besmeared with blood. It was impossible to know how much slaughter hid behind each weapon, or how much blood each had drank.

Yujien flopped casually upon a broad wolf head throne, and observed his dreamy expression with great interest. It was as if startling him as such brought him much amusement.

Qu Fongning heightened his focus and saw a row of bows lining in sequence of varying lengths: one had limbs like a crooked hook and many fingers in diameter, one was slender and curvy like an ancient instrument, and there was one with limbs like an arch and shaped in a half-moon. The decorations on each were unique as well, this with a soaring black serpent, or that with a flapping great roc, blooming fierce in a multitude of colors, dazzling the vision.

His gaze lingered momentarily on each, until finally stopping at the one in the center. This bow was plain without adornment, the line of the curved arm was exceedingly elegant, and upon it showed a faint trace of ivory scales, rendering a cold silvery whiteness, like an expanse of dead glacier.

Yujien’s eyes followed his gaze, and he smiled. “I knew you would like this one,” he said, and shoved forth the low stool by his side, sending it to halt right beneath the silvery bow, meaning him to get it himself.

Qu Fongning tipped his toes and leaped nimbly onto the stool top, and extended his arm to grab to bow. Its surface was cold, hard, and uneven upon touch, like a sallow tree bark. He pushed with his fingertips, wanting to take it off. But the bow was astoundingly heavy. He only felt half of its weight and couldn’t hold even, and almost fell off.

Yujien stood behind him and gripped his ankle to help him hold balance. Qu Fongning’s alert spirit still hadn’t settled. “Thanks, General.” he blurted, and tiptoed once again to reach for his precious gift. But the bow was hung too high, he swung it a couple times, and it would not come free.

Yujien held his smooth and slender ankle in his hand, the bells on the golden ring rang before his eyes, and he could not help taking notice. He lowered to observe and found that there was two exquisitely made bells in the shapes of zhongs¹. Inside the bells were two earrings like bronze clappers—with each swing, the clappers collide together and make a crystal sound. It was deep into autumn, but Qu Fongning was still bare on his feet without shoes or socks. And no matter where he went, this dingling, dingling chime always aroused people’s attention.

He extended his hand for a pluck. “It seems Qu Lyn likes you a lot,” he commented casually.

Qu Fongning peered at his ankle and chuckled. “The little Lord Prince had a dog,” he said.

Yujien didn’t know what he meant. “Dog?” he asked.

Qu Fongning answered in hmm, his hand still wrestling with the bronze hook, he lips said, “a dog in snow-white coat, with ears that drooped onto the ground, and eyes that were red! No matter how refined a noble lady, she would drop everything to cuddle it when they see it. The little Lord Prince was afraid that others didn’t know this belonged to his house, thus made it wear a chain of bells of bright yellow and sparkling gold. And when people saw it, they would never mistake its owner. Thereafter, his beloved dog died, the bells became freed up…”

His ankle shifted. “…And he gave it to me,” he said.

Yujien listened with his brows furrowed. “Qu Lyn has been terribly humiliating. How can he compare a perfectly good human with a dog?” he thought.

Then he heard Qu Fongning give an exulted cry of rejoice in finally taking down the silvery bow. He held it gingerly in his hands, caressed it dearly, and was too fond to release his clutch. “General, what is this bow called?” he enquired excitedly.

“It’s called ‘Moon frost.’ The entire bow was made whole from one rhino horn. It’s heavy! You need to be careful of hurting yourself when you release,” said Yujien.

Qu Fongning’s fingertips gently grazed the white scales along the bow arm, following the line of streaming light. “This name is so beautiful.” He lifted the bow and tried the string. With him kneeling halfway on the stool and Yujien hovering beside him, the pair was gathered very close together. Suddenly, Qu Fongning raised his eyes intently towards the face beneath the mask.

Yujien lifted his head, and their vision leveled. Seeing the radiance whirling in his eyes, he hummed in question.

Qu Fongning’s eyes met up with his. “General, if I win in the Autumn Contests, can I ask you for a favor?” As he spoke, he extended his hand and made a light tap on his mask.

How could Yujien not understand? He smiled softly. “What’s so difficult about that? I can take it off for you to see right now. However, I was born terribly ugly with a crooked mouth, saber tooth, bulging eyes, and rotting flesh on half my face. Are you scared?” he said.

Qu Fongning shrunk backwards. Yet he saw the eyes beneath the mask, deep and pure, with iris faintly revealing a verdancy of the pasturelands, were not bulging at all. Figuring that Yujien was tricking him again, he refused to retreat any further, “Nope! You must be very good looking, mn… supremely handsome without peer! I’ve heard, every girl on the steppes wants to marry you,” he pressed.

Yujien had gotten into position to remove the mask. Upon hearing this, he let his hand drop instead. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t see it, so as to avoid your disappointment,” he said, laughing. With this movement, he was even closer. He saw the corner of Qu Fongning’s eyes droop slightly, combining this with his subtle exasperation; it was a decidedly vivid expression. And just as he was about to tease a little more, coughs sounded by the door. It was the arrival of Oyghrmuki. As soon as he saw Qu Fongning, he made a quirky grin towards Yujien. “Little skylark flew up?” he said.

“Mn, his bow broke,” said Yujien.

Qu Fongning dropped to salute. “Grand Chamberlain Oyghrmuki, haven’t seen you for a while,” he said respectfully.

Oyghrmuki chortled. “Old Oyghr takes hints very well.” Suddenly seeing Moon frost in his hands, he howled, “little skylark has a good eye! This bow was a tribute from Yelang². Those white rhino horns of theirs are extremely rare in this world! This entire bow arm is one continuous body. How big would the animal have to be, to grow such a horn? Six years ago, this was the bow the General used to crack the skull of one of the ‘Huainan Tiger Generals,’ the Southern Governor General of Infantry, He Kejian, and broke his Geese Wing Return formation. Those Jingzhou underlings of his, which always boasted themselves into the sky, all threw away their shields and mails as soon as they heard his defeat, and ran away like homeless dogs with piss running down their asses.”

His limbs gesticulated in a dramatic dance as he relentlessly recounted this land slide battle until Yujien swept him a look. Then he finally wiped away the specks of splattered spit and cracked a grin. “I can’t control my mouth, don’t mind me, don’t mind me. Little Syr, General has high hopes in you. This bow will surely continue its glory in your hands. Besides, we are not done with killing the five Tiger Generals, what with Huang Weisong, Xu Guang, Ji Bozhao. You’ll take them down one by one with your arrows, without question,” he said.

Qu Fongning bowed deeply. “Thank you, Grand Chamberlain Oyghrmuki, for your … kind words,” he said in a low tone.

“It’s easy to thank him. Go get him two jars of liquor. That’ll coax him into not knowing the four cardinals!” Yujien mocked from the side. Seeing that night had fallen, he called forth an orderly to escort Qu Fongning out of the city.

Oyghrmuki immediately professed his loyalty, “General, Old Oyghr really didn’t sneak away that jar of eighteen years old Jiangnan Spring!”

Yujien didn’t bother to respond. By this point, Qu Fongning had got on the horse and was sitting sideways against the orderly. “I will win in the Autumn Contest!” he called to him. Then he made a gesture around his face, meaning, “don’t forget our promise!”

Yujien thought he was being childish and nodded with a smile. “I won’t forget,” he said. And Qu Fongning was contend. With the precious bow in his cradle, he set off into the gloomy haze.

~

Tonight, the Nien House was again basked in a delirium of floral beauty, tender wine, and soft whispers.

Heat two or three shares of green wine on the stove, and a man is already gone halfway from smelling the fragrance. With Nien Hanr’s smiling face and his ten pretty fingers at your lips, the other half of the body will also be paralyzed into mushy mud. By then, however fine bits or pieces Matron Nien chops and cuts them into, they will have no sensation whatsoever.

In the midst of this passionate hysteria, there was a table of funless guests without wine nor escort, and were only charging big eyes to small eyes, staring at each other across the void.

“Gerrgu, you dare to play?!” Old Ha hollered.

Gerrgu twisted his neck idly. “You haven’t lost enough, but I’ve won enough!” He side-glanced him.

Old Ha was red to his ears. “Who said I’m going to… lose again! Come on!” he yelled, jumping.

Gerrgu lightly dialed the porcelain bowl used for the wager last time, it spun like a gyro, and said no more. Cher Bien was in great spirits. “Ole Ha, what goods have you got? Your second brother doesn’t want much, but a pearl like the last one, I can do with another eight or ten!” he asked in haste.

Ole Ha spewed at him. His heart ached. “Pearl your ass!” But peeking around, he carefully took out a large carmine coral bead from his bosom pouch. Cher Bien released a long ehh, “Good Old Ha, dear Old Ha, you really got your ways. I love you to death!” He was already inflated with a hunter’s joy, with hands faster than himself, his lanky claw already snuck by the coral bead, wanting to examine its fineness.

Before he could touch it, Ole Ha twisted his hand and rushed the coral bead back into his pouch. “Old Brother Ha doesn’t want much, just wager back the pearl from last time, and I’ll game with you!”

Upon hearing this, Cher Bien looked as if he had been slapped on the face, and immediately pulled a forlorn cry. He had an active head and extensive network of gateways, and the pearl had long been exchanged and pawned off to the isles of Java. How could he put that on the table?

Gerrgu spectated with cold contempt, he knew that the wager was fake, but his cling on the pearl was real. He never liked to dangle people’s appetite, hence waving his hand, “It’s hopeless, it’s been sold!” he said.

Old Ha had predicted this outcome, and still couldn’t help inhaling a cold breath, his lid made a few jolts, looking as if hurt deep in the flesh.

Gerrgu consoled him instead. “You don’t need to worry! You got good hands with big muscles. In two days, show your skills on the Autumn Contest, and maybe a lordling will take fancy on you. Would you be lacking in gold and silver then?”

Old Ha gaped at him and slammed his thighs, crying repeatedly, “That’s right!” As soon as his heart stretched out, he started daydreaming, “If I become ‘Hanak,’ don’t mention the lordlings, perhaps even the General and his Majesty will look at me differently!”

“Hanak” means “one best at wrestling,” a title granted to the winner of the wrestling tournament. It is a great honor for the strongmen of the grasslands.

Cher Bien saw him clutching tightly at the coral bead, allowing no opportunity for mischief, and had to swallow his saliva. “You better kill this hope! With my King Kong brother Gu entering the games, how would there be a chance for your Hanak?” he spat.

Old Ha kept his eyes on him with full alert. “Who knows? Hanr, who do you wager to win?” he rebuffed.

Nien Hanr just had a chance for a break, and was painting his nails by the lion bone bar. “Wager you!” he said casually.

Old Ha threw a smug look at Cher Bien, and just as he was about to go for a round of boasts, a hard object poked on his back. With a flash of the vision, a long bow of streaming silver gleam and of cold as the frosty moon was placed justly on the bar. And a familiar laughing voice spoke:

“Here, I’ll bet with you!”

Old Ha knew the goods. Eyes glued on the bow, he instantly jumped, shaking uncontrollably. “This this this…it can’t be…Yu…Yu….”

Qu Fongning ohhed. “Yu what? My bow broke, so General Yujien gave me another one. Nothing special,” he said nonchalantly.

Cher Bien was radiating from up to down. “My good little brother, my little ancestor!” he said, quivering.

If it was some other treasure, he would’ve lunged up to it by now. This bow was right in front of his eyes, but he dared not to approach. His fingers trembled for a good long while before he made a wobbly poke on the scale, and immediately shrunk back as if he had been burned, screaming, “So cold!”

Even Old Ha couldn’t bother with Hanak or not anymore. He flopped in with his pouted rear, leaning in for a close look. All the other guests jostled around, all scrambling to look at the artifact of the god of war.

Qu Fongning looked around the space, walked instead toward the lion bone bar, and sat right next to Nien Hanr. “Little sister Nien, your luck isn’t so good. This way of fortune has much to do with one’s lifeline, and this is detrimental to your great scheme,” he said, smiling.

Nien Hanr sneered. His gaze bypassed the crowd and landed on the silvery bow. “I am an honest fellow. I don’t eat with luck, nor do I have all those tortuous intestines of yours.”

Qu Fongning chuckled low and coiled an arm around his supple waist. “These days, one just gotta stake everything in one throw. That’s how you get a thriving fortune,” he said. Leaning to his ear, he blew a breath of air, “I said. I’m a hunter.”

Nien Hanr’s charming, fair eyes swept him a cold look, but then he suddenly smiled. “Regarding a bandit as one’s father, you feel good about it?”

“It’s better than weeping and moping day and night over some token of love,” Qu Fongning answered indifferently.

Nien Hanr’s brows twitched, angling in his face, he smiled with curving eyes. “Little big brother Qu is elevating to new heights. How dare I ruin his exalted spirits? With everybody so excited here, I’ll open up my treasure box and gift you a piece of especially secret intel, free of charge,” he said seductively.

Qu Fongning saw no smile in his eyes, didn’t fear however, and pressed his head into his shoulder blades. “Come on, show me the ivory tusks in your mouth, spit it out,” he said with a grin.

Nien Hanr leaned by his ear, and with breath fragrant like orchid, he said softly, “Do you know how Yujien Tianhung’s son died?”

His throat cracked a laugh, exhaling hot air behind Qu Fongning’s ear, and spoke slowly:

“Yongning seventh year, Yujien Tianhung led a million armored riders across the frozen river, charging troops straight before Dingzhou City. At that time, your honored country spiraled into a state of mass hysteria and dilapidating pandemonium, and was almost going to kneel down with abandon tears to beg for dear life. Yet, in the midst of that hopeless desperation, a godsend good news suddenly came through; Chienye’s old foe, the Ulun tribe, made a last-ditch raid at the rear and breached through Yujien Tianhung’s old lair, Yarrdu City. The team of city guards escorting their young lord away was inadvertently intercepted by your honored country, including his nine-year-old mute son.”

“This was his only biological son. Think about it, isn’t this a godsend leverage? Your honored country was exulted beyond belief. What the Prime Minister, the Grand Tutor, and the Supreme Commander of Troops and Horses, they all went nuts with glee! So everybody jubilantly laid down a banquet, wanting to invite this wise general and loving father to some bread and drinks, and also slip in the business of hostage and retreating forces.”

“Upon this delicate time, when the war was about to begin and the thousand weight was hanging on a hair, how did your honored country manage to seek him in private, I cannot imagine. But your honored country is full of wily smart people, and the place they found must also be very cunning. And after the invitation, Yujien Tianhung actually agreed and kept the appointment.”

“During the banquet, the hosts and guest drank in harmony, and Yujien Tianhung acceded to every request of your honored country. Moreover, he made with them a solemn pact, asking the hosts to keep the event of the day in absolute confidence and to never disclose the details. He had only one request, and that was to see whether his son was well.”

“Your honored country ate this assuring promise pill and agreed at once. The father wants to see the son, what’s there to say? And thence, the sound of thousands of elite soldiers in orderly marches, towing this city-worth hostage, rang far across from the edge of the horizon.”

“The moment Yujien Tianhung saw his son, his eyes changed, and he slowly stood up. This brought no small panic to the lords and generals or your honored country, who all shrunk back a good distance, fearing his sudden fury, and they should become the hostages instead. But to be honest, at that moment, aside from the emperor himself, there was no one more precious than this little mute.”

“Fortunately, your honored country was well prepared, for the little mute was surrounded by maximum security; not even a drip of water was to seep through. Yujien Tianhung came alone, he didn’t even ride his horse, and with his singular power, even if he can ascend the heavens and dive the earth, there was no way to rescue his son.”

“But with another look, Yujien Tianhung didn’t appear particularly excited, he just opened his hands composedly and made a few gestures to the little mute. According to the translators, they were only common words of greeting. Before long, he was done.”

A flash suddenly spirited across Qu Fongning’s head. “Not right!” he blurted.

Nien Hanr snickered and continued.

“If your honored country had you on the field at the time, they would’ve had a much better mind’s eye.”

“Because, after Yujien Tianhung conducted these words, he regarded his son momentarily, and suddenly spoke out loud, ‘A’chu, you are father’s proudest son, the greatest child of the grasslands.’”

Qu Fongning closed his eyes. A buzzing ring surrounded his ears, and the only sliver of lucidity were, just earlier by the waterside, the words he clearly spoken himself:

“That’s not it. This message means, ‘I shall never regret.’”

Nien Hanr’s moisty snake-like voice was still slithering by his ear.

“And then, this heroic father pulled the string and arched the bow, with an arrow dropping from heaven, impaled his only beloved son’s heart.”

Qu Fongning opened his eyes and regarded the face before him. “What are you trying to do?” he said slowly.

“Little big brother Qu, I am worried about you. Worry that at the end of your plans and scheme, and it turns out that you aren’t even worth a city,” Nien Hanr said softly.

He bit lightly on Qu Fongning’s shoulder and laughed again. “This heroic father of yours has a heart of hardness without peer. In the future, suppose you make a mistake and fall into enemy hands, and he sends an arrow at your bosom. That sight is bound to be especially touching.”

Qu Fongning hooked him in tighter. Holding up his dainty chin, he spoke coldly, “Nien Hanr, I am not his mute son. What others cannot do, does not mean I cannot do.” He lowered his head and placed a kiss on his lips. Smiles surfaced on his eyes. “Speaking of hardness of heart, the master of that moon ring of yours is probably not much better off,” he mocked.

Nien Hanr wiped his lips briskly. The charm disappeared from his eyes. “If you are in heat, I got two good dogs you can enjoy,” he said, biting his teeth.

“I would not dare. Your dogs, must prefer its original master,” Qu Fongning tsked.

When the other guests retracted their gazes from Moon frost and turned their heads, they saw two beautiful youths entwined in head and neck in flirts and teases. It was truly a ravishing sight to behold, and doubly interesting to watch! All felt dry in the mouth and asked for two more bowls of liquor.

~

The grandest festival of the exchange of autumn and winter finally began.

The tournament is divided into three days, horse racing on the first day, wrestling on the second day, and archery on the third day³. The nomads have just finished the busy work of packing wares and straw for the winter, and are eager for a wild carnival to relieve their weariness. Those with sons of age have sooner started polishing iron bridles and going around buying the best arrows, hoping to raise to fame during the grand contests. Those without sons are not idle either, they have busied themselves in preparing their daughters, flanking them in ostentatious cloaks, and wrapping them with vibrantly colored bow ribbons, which the girls tie around their wrists and only reveal a slight section. If they see a man to their heart, they will covertly pull it out and make a tight knot around his bow grip. When the owner of the bow grip sees this charming object, takes the sentiments, and knots the weeping whip, it will be another touching union.

Apart from the girls, the wandering sorceress, red-hatted peddlers, as if being in a holiday, bustles around swinging their shaman’s gilded gold bells, and peddling head full of cheese, dried meat, crumpets, honey cake here and there, not letting go of any passerby. But they know their manners and propriety, if people don’t want their wares, they will leave immediately and not badger at all, hence they are always popular.

Songshr put on a new cloth dress and draped on a half-new lambskin waistcoat, and arrived onto the festive field. She swirled her head, looking for her girlfriends. The tourney field was divided by hanging ropes with flags of all sorts of colors, the pell-mell of the fun-loving crowd jostled forward furiously, and pushed the ropes inward by a long stretch. How could one find someone else on this field? Even if one flew a tiger skin flag, he would appear puny and insignificant.

She tiptoed in search and found herself surrounded tight on all four sides. Only the east side had set up a high podium with magnificent tapestries, and a swarm of nobles scions were drinking in delight and relishing in entertainment on the elevated platform.

She was puzzled. “The Autumn Festival is a plebian contest, the nobility never enters it. Why have they come?” she wondered.

By the podium, a lonely figure sat mutely between flag ropes and the platform, not bothering with anyone.

Songshr made her way through the mob. “Big brother …little Ting’yu,” she called out at the forefront of the flag ropes.

The frowning face on the wheelchair raised his head. “Mn, sister Songshr, you are here too,” he answered.

Little Ting’yu had been frail since birth, and had always been carefully attended by Jorrji. In appreciation of the old healer’s kindness, General Ting’schi adopted Songshr as a goddaughter. Songshr had a gentle disposition. She worked hard and spoke little, and Little Ting’yu always liked and respected her through the day-to-day interactions.

Songshr saw his sullen countenance and pondered, “Is grandpa’s prescription too harsh? Ever since he came back from Khilan, his brows hasn’t relaxed.”

At this moment, the bugle horn blew a long call. On the high stage, hundreds of contestants divided into a number of squares, and were being separated in queues for order. Suddenly, the crowd stirred tumultuously, and the onlookers craned their necks in watch. Apparently someone important had come.

And indeed so, with clicking hooves, dangling imperial bells, and white riding trousers, the Crown Prince Allonby rode in on a fat yellow horse and appeared grandiosely before the podium. The deployment officer ran forth in a small trot, and invited him up to the stage in full deferential respect. Prince Allonby didn’t get off the horse. But with a leap and eagle span wing, he landed steadily on the platform.

On the eastern podium, Cher Vei and Agula led the group of noble scions in enthusiastic cheers and applauses, raving zealously at the prince’s gallantry. The dancers and qin girls also acted and played in accord, elevating the excited noise. The prince waved in salute, seeming in smug spirits.

The deployment officer swung about two colored flags, dividing the contestants into red and black teams. Prince Allonby assumed the place on taking the first spot in the red line, wrapped on a red headband, and leaned against the color flags by the side of the platform in a face full of smiles, relishing in the regard and veneration of the crowd.

The people on the stage streamed out like fishes, one after another they received headbands printed with numbers. The spectators savored the scene in keen interest, pointing every now and then, and judging from head to toe. Wherever somebody’s son was called, their neighbors and relatives would hoot wildly in response.

All of a sudden, a commontion stirred in the crowd, and the noise augmented tremendously. Songshr raised her head to look, and saw a tall handsome youth was taking the black team’s band from the deployment officer. Everyone else had pure white trousers, only the belly of his trousers had a brand of carmine cloud.

“Qu Fongning, black team number nineteen!” sang the ceremonial marshal.

Songshr’s heart leaped up at once, and she stared at the figure on the stage, unable to remove her gaze. Qu Fongning received the headband and saluted. Shifting his gaze, he looked into her direction, his eyes brightened, and he waved his hand.

Songshr cried out, realizing her impropriety, she quickly covered her face.

The people behind the flag rope saw that Qu Fongning was no more than fourteen or fifteen, and that he was going up there to fight, all felt him to be commendable in bravery. To know, in the end, both horse racing and wrestling require raw strength in order to decide the victory. No matter how well grown a youth’s body is, he is not full-grown, and would be lacking in strength. And thus, all the previous Damus were mostly rounded bodied and muscle-jacked young men. Even leaders of any singular section never had someone this young. So it didn’t matter whether they knew him or not, everyone started applauding.

The girls saw him looking handsome, and all wanted to look a bit more. In a brief moment, the mob boiled in excitement, surging over the popularity of Prince Allonby’s entrance.

Prince Allonby slanted Qu Fongning a glance, seeing that he was half a head shorter than himself, with narrow shoulders, looking not at all like a proper rival, and didn’t bother with it at all. But then he heard a frivolous jeer flashing by. It was Qu Lyn blowing an indolent whistle on the high podium.

Shortly after, each two hundred contestants of the red and black teams sprawled out to prepare for the horse raising. The horse race was divided into two rounds: the first round had a hundred participants ride out at once along a drawn-out forty li distance, and race for speed, whoever arrives first wins. The second round calls forth the twenty foremost riders of the previous round and have them compete on the elliptical racecourse, and test for the equestrian control.

Prince Allonby excelled in horse riding, the horse he rode was also a mighty one-in-ten-thousand steed, and was determined to win. At the call, he swung the rein, clenched his legs, and rode out at once. Trailing a smog of yellow dust and throwing all the others far behind him, he easily attained the victory of the first round. He waited long at the finish line before others showed up. And naturally, the eastern podium raved in praises and adulations, cracking loud cheers and noises.

Before long, the twenty foremost riders were determined, Qu Fongning did not show any particular exceptional qualities, and only rode to the eighteenth place. Allonby peered casually, and saw that he was riding an undistinguished little black horse, with a bundle on the horseback packed full of iron bucket, water canister, medicinal corner, and other messy unseemly odds and ends. The prince humphed and turned away his royal head. It was as if taking someone like this as a rival was an insult to his status.

Qu Fongning did not mind this floral and green little horse; he was stroking its hide intimately and feeding bread crumpets for it to eat.

The second ringed racecourse was divided into lanes. In the intent gaze of the spectators, Princes Allonby put on a full display of his abilities, rode foremost in his steed, and was faster than others for more than a whole ring. Furthermore, he performed upside down on the horseback, pulling out all manner of wild tricks. The crowd behind the flag rope couldn’t help chirping praises, feeling that this mighty horsed, golden sabered prince does seem to have some substance.

Allonby heard it and became ever more invigorated. It so happened that he came to the turning point and he wanted to show off, he clenched his thighs, stepped on the foot hold, pulled up the forebody of his steed, and jumped across the racecourse.

The horse racing track lanes were constructed from man height lumber, how could it be easy to jump across in the air on a horse? At the successful completion of the stunt, Prince Allonby instantly earned the roaring applause of the entire field.

However, a shrill neigh shrieked at length, behind him a green horse was startled from the sudden movements and refused to move forward, its four hoofs halted in motion, and then its body abruptly jerked up. The rider on the horseback was caught off guard, and was slung off from the height of the green horse, falling flat to the ground. The green horse lost its pilot, dizzy in its head, and went stomping towards the fallen rider.

The spectators, seeing the vicissitudinous changes, screamed in horror. That horse must have weighed hundreds of jin, heavily laden with hard iron shoes, adding on the momentum of the run, the force of impact would be no less than a thousand jin! The softness of the flesh has no protection against such crash, with this stomp, it would definitely be a gory trot through the guts.

All at once, a black horse came in with four hooves on flight. A white figure leaped up from the seat, dived into the haze beneath the iron hooves, made a loop around the fallen spiritless rider, and tumbled many a tumble out of the racecourse. Within that moment, the frightened horse’s front hooves landed crushingly upon their previous location. With a quaking rumble, everyone felt the earth beneath them shake many a shake. Yellow dust erupted, clouding over a large half of the racetracks.

The people watched this heart-pounding, soul-stirring scene, and felt their hearts hanging at their throats. They rushed to look towards the two, and saw the fallen rider was still in a state of agitated shock and was sitting stupefied on the ground, breathing in heaps. The owner of the black horse had a huge scrape on his kneecaps, the trousers with the branded carmine cloud was soiled, grim covered his face, and he was waving his hands furiously trying to sweep away the yellow dust from his mouth and nose.

When Songshr saw this person, she caught tight on the bow ribbon of her wrist, and her heart pounded like a drum. “I knew it was him!”

A low cry sounded behind her, it was Little Ting’yu. His entire body was stretched forward, almost suspended in-air, and the pearls on his handles have been splattered with sweat spots.

The crowd witnessed Qu Fongning making a rescue at the hanging of the thousand weight on a thread, not one was not impressed by his bravery and ability. And at once, a thundering round of ovation exploded in the people.

The family of the rescued rider poured with gratitude, and came forth thrice in kowtows. Qu Fongning waved his hand relentlessly, limping and hobbling, pulled his little black horse and slowly walked out of the racetracks. He had originally been the fifth or sixth place, flying out as the hero was brave and gallant, but it invalidated his scores. For the section of horse racing, he would have to take the bottom place.

However, in the hearts of the people, his last place weighed much more than the first place. They saw the youth had neglected his own safety and took great risks to save someone he didn’t know; his character and action truly inspired the sincerest respect. And in comparison, the competition of skills seemed light in weight.

Prince Allonby gained the top spot and was exhilarated in spirit. Seeing the situation, his expression turned worse than before. The ceremonial marshal rushed to chant the ‘Skilled equestrian’s long hymn,’ brought forth bright red brocades and silken flowers, beat the drums and gongs, and draped the prince anew. But none of this could recover the attention of the people, who were talking garrulous beneath the podium, in which not a sentence mentioned this royal equestrian’s adeptness, all of it was about this life saving hero, Qu Fongning.

Prince Allonby had been robbed of the limelight, and felt awfully displeased at heart. On wrestling courts on the second day, he doubled his efforts, pushed forth on high songs and intense forces, and made into the finals of the red team. Hearing thundering applause from the opposite ring, he turned to look, saw a huge man kneeling on one knee and showering in sweat, and on his opposite, Qu Fongning clean without a drop of sweat and was holding his hand out to pull him up. “Black team finals, number nineteen wins!” sang the ceremonial marshal.

The prince was overjoyed, rubbed his fist and scrubbed his palm, and was determined to have a showdown on the final ring. However, the heavens did not grant the man’s wish, before the final match, he was put down by the red team’s famous strongman — King Kong Gerrgu, and he had to drop the plan.

A moment later, the two rings were combined into one, the red and the black sides competing for the finals. When people looked towards the podium and saw that it was the brave youth from yesterday, a round of cheers erupted, the sound of clapping almost turning over the platformed stage.

As soon as Gerrgu saw his opponent, without a word, started to peel off the contest leather waistcoat. “Brother Gu, what are you doing?” Qu Fongning asked in haste.

“Is Brother Gu going to fight with you?” said Gerrgu, and as he spoke, he let go of the band around his head.

“I don’t need you to cut slack for me,” Qu Fongning giggled cheerily. He walked over, helped him tie the band onto his head, and put the waistcoat back on.

He was shorter than Gerrgu by a good segment, his body was also much smaller. Gerrgu lowered his head to look at him tying his own leather strap, and couldn’t help feeling a sense of protection. “Brother Gu’s got heavy hands and legs, I’ll break you!” he said.

Qu Fongning raised his head looking at him. “No problem, you can’t break me!” he said.

Gerrgu regarded his flickering lashes, there was a layer of sweat on the wing of his nose, and wanted to wipe it away for him.

Suddenly, three blasts of ceremonial cannons boomed, a team of silvery-white armored Khilan soldiers rode forth in pairs and lined neatly before the stage. A white clothed emissary announced in a high pitch, “a conveyance of the National Defense Marshal, General Herr Gen’s written words, ‘Hearing Champion Qu of honored nation’s participation on platformed contest today has brought me much delight, and here I have especially prepared two jars of star wine for the felicitation. The wine is thin, the sentiments are long, and the longing words ring by the ear.⁴’”

Qu Fongning dared not to delay and hurried for reception. “My Big Brother Herr… Is General Herr well?” he asked.

The emissary smiled. “All is well. He said: he is currently working on a big scheme, and cannot come to see you. This time next year, he will treat you to the full moon wine.”

Qu Fongning’s eyes glittered. “That is wonderful!” he said happily.

The Chienye prime minister and ceremonial marshals saw the arrival of Khilan envoys, and rushed forth to felicitate drinks. The emissary downed three full cups. “Champion Qu, I wish you the success of your aspiration and the attainment of your heart’s desires,” he said, and led the guards gallop swiftly away.

The crowd beneath the stage looked at the jade jars, and observed its quality of translucent white, almost able to see the elixir flowing within the vessel; the decanter alone was a priceless treasure.

Qu Fongning was no miser, he slapped open the seal, made a casual toss, held up the wine jar, and yanked up his head in drink. The wine seal was almost transparently white, and soaked with fine wine. A number of distinct wine connoisseurs smelled the inebriating fragrance, and their drool flooded a puddle on the ground. And seeing Qu Fongning drinking in abandon on the podium brought much envy.

Gerrgu saw Qu Fongning’s movements neither quick nor rushed, as soon as one pot emptied, he slapped open another jar, and continued pouring the contents down his throat. He didn’t covet the wine, he only thought, “This General Herr is a magnate of Khilan, Brother Fongning must welcome his wine very much.” He faintly smelled a peculiar sourness from the remaining wine, but didn’t take it to heart.

After Qu Fongning drank the last drop, he slowly raised his body, flipped both palms, and smashed the two jade jars into smithereens.

It was the thick of Autumn, the golden sun rays shone like honey sugar, basking his raven hair and waistcoat to glisten in streaming light. In the autumn wind, his snow-white trousers clanged tight to his calves, making his legs appear especially long and slender, solid and handsome. The lilac ribbons on his fingers strewn loose into a long stripe, and fluttered gently in the soft wind.

“Red team number twenty-three, black team number nineteen, the fight begins!” sang the ceremonial marshal.

Qu Fongning smiled at Gerrgu, and patted himself. “Brother Gu, come!” he said.

As the drum horn boomed, the pair was already in a face-to-face wrestling embrace.

Wrestling was the hardest section for trickery. Successive Hanaks finals have all involved two king kong strongmen wrestling into a ball, with bodies like iron towers, voices like grand bells, when they cried it tumbled like a mountain collapse, and when they collided it panged like meaty ping pongs. And in the end, when their voices grate and strength fail, and exhale like bulls, the dark tanned muscles would be covered in greasy sweat.

The final this season was uniquely phenomenal. They saw Gerrgu steady in his lower body, with two arms in an arched embrace, standing like an ancient bronze bell tower. Yet Qu Fongning appeared light in his foothold, floating and unfixed, like the cloud surrounding the tower. Gerrgu twisted his shoulder blades, tucked his knees, all without success, and it seemed impossible to touch his body. Qu Fongning pressed through successive borrowed forces, hook, push, slant, cross, but apparently lacked in strength, and couldn’t do much work. The two held in deadlock, and entangled at length; it was impossible to jury the victory.

The people beneath the podium watched on, one of the two strong and macho, the other light and spirited, as they fought, it was like a giant tiger frolicking with a white butterfly — for there was nothing more interesting to see. And thus, the cheers raged higher wave after wave, their hands swelled from claps, their throats abraded from screams, but they still hoped to see more of the fight!

Gerrgu had his back arched on the stage, and was dizzy from the fight. Qu Fongning’s grip felt like tickles, and didn’t hurt at all. How is Brother Fongning’s strength like this? Usually, when he offended him, his punches and kicks hurt much more than this!

Although the hits didn’t hurt, it dazzled spirals in his eyes. Before long, his vision was filled with white apparitions, and with his head giddy and feet unsteady, he soon sat down. Just before he touched the ground, Qu Fongning’s hands looped around his waist and pulled him up.

The game ruled if any part of the body above the knees touched the ground as a loss. Thus, Gerrgu spoke to the referee and gladly admitted defeat. The reward for the “Hanak” was a set of strongman’s outfits, with shirt, waistcoat, and trouser legs all bearing the embroidery of wrestling tigers, and was made to the previous tradition of extra-large. Qu Fongning hooded the waistcoat to cover Gerrgu, and it was still larger by a whole size. And laughing at each other, they went off the podium arm in arm.

The crowd watched the brother’s friendship; it furthered their admiration and praises. As the field scattered, everyone was talking about the name of the two warriors, even those who have any scarce connection with the House of Lord Prince Qu gained much pomposity, and would only speak in forced clandestineness after three persistent inquiries, “…The bigger one is usually very polite, he helped my wife get back a lost lamb once; the little one used to call me uncle…”

And thus, the stories of the large and small warriors passed around for a whole day and night by the Mei waters. At daybreak, it was the date of the finale.

The archery contest was the final highlight of the Autumn Festival, with a total of three rounds, and nine arrow shots for each round. The first round tested marking on ground, and the second ground required the horse, and those with the most shots on target’s red center wins. The third round was always the most confidential secret of every season, and was usually a both humorous and extremely difficult task, which would entertain the crowd and test the contestants at the same time, without the compromise of either.

Prince Allonby surpassed the masses in horse riding and currently held the highest scores. Qu Fongning followed close behind with only one or two points in difference. Presently, he breathed deep into his belly, focused his body steady as the stone, and unleashed all that Guo Wuliang had taught him. Truly to his command of his heart and hand, all eighteen arrows landed center on the red mark. Just as he thought “now I’ve tossed you behind!” he heard the shrill screams of girls. Qu Fongning was straightening his stance as he recovered the bow, also with eighteen arrows in the center of the red mark, and none amiss.

Prince Allonby was upset to the extremity. Between the end of the second course and waiting for the reveal of the secret third round, he swung the bow across the air in front of Qu Lyn’s face. “Get rid of that kid, forbid him to continue the contest! All nymphy and nymphish, makes me sick just looking at it!”

Qu Lyn was collapsed on the breasts of a salacious, mature dancer, playing with his bracelets. “Lord Brother, I can’t play the boss here. This kid has recently found a big patron, a really scary one. I don’t dare to touch him!” he said in a good, unhurried order.

Prince Allonby was furious. “What dog fart patron! My Lord Father is the greatest patron of the steppes! Tell me the name, I’ll go kill him!” he shouted.

Qu Lyn nodded, smiling. “Then I shall oblige Lord Brother!” Extending out his hand, he languidly pointed a finger towards an open field.

Allonby looked over in great fury, but suddenly his breath caught dead at his throat, and could exhale no more.

His Lord Father’s most respected and beloved sworn brother, the undying legend of the steppes, and the man he always wanted to become, was adorned in a terrifying demon mask, riding a tall black horse, and appeared soundlessly on that open field.

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