Chao’yoonr’s body was recovered. In the heat of the climate, it could not be returned to her homeland, and had to be cremated on date. The black smoke tumbled. Beyond the soaring flames, Chao’yoonr’s parents held each other, their hearts and entrails torn from keening. Yujien wore a flower of white muslin, his expression unperceivable through the mask, and held the golden ball for a long time, before slowly putting it back into the memento box.

Qu Fongning pulled over Wind Chaser and stood afar. He brushed its snow-white pelt and adorned it with a little white flower.

Soon, the flaming glow settled, and Chao’yoonr’s bones and ashes were gathered into a little jade urn. The shaman sorceresses sang their elegies, with her former handmaids and servants in high wails. Yujien came towards him, and Qu Fongning greeted his gaze. “The Princess liked this horse when she lived. I think… If the Princess sees it from the heavens, she’ll feel better.”

Yujien was touched at heart. “You’ve thought well,” he said, his eyes full of tenderness. He took off Watering Chill from his belt and passed it to him.

The original jeweled scabbard had been replaced by black leather. Qu Fongning extended for a pull. Under the blazing sun, a film of frost cast onto his brows.

“‘Gone are the heroes of the past, today the water is just as cold.’… I didn’t think it would be a foretelling,” said Yujien, quietly.

He looked long at the remaining ash on the ground, and his usual austere tone dropped as well: “I had originally planned, after quelling the rebellion, to betroth her to Za’yii’s Second Prince, and ally the two nations with marriage. Through the Rolling Clouds Mountains iron veins and flow of forging, keep each other in mutual checks. Before leaving, I’d especially enjoined her that Qu Lyn is evil at heart, and not her good match. And later I would choose her a young man better than him by a hundred-fold… This little girl didn’t heed me even until the end.”

Qu Fongning followed in watch. “The Little Lord Prince had been a little true to the Princess. This whole way… he didn’t do her any injustice. In the end, I think… she was still happy in her heart,” he said, gently.

“Mn, I’ll make Qu Lyn go down to keep her company,” said Yujien, apathetically. He brushed his hair, and their gaze touched. “Come back with me—talk again?” enquired Yujien, the last two words already took on a smile.

Qu Fongning’s face warmed and hastily darted a look at the crowd. “Little General… asked me to keep him company atop the commanding podium.”

Yujien kept this gaze and extended his hand to nip his earlobe. “Why are you looking at others? Scared people will know?” he whispered.

Qu Fonging couldn’t help a small jolt at him touching his ear. “Who… who’s scared?” he persisted.

Yujien regarded him profoundly for a moment, suddenly laughed and again shook his head. “What’re you… laughing about?”

“Laughing at your cuteness,” said Yujien. He pulled over Wind Chaser, took him into his arms and sent him up the horseback. “Come back early.”

Qu Fongning swung the pale silver horsewhip “—Talk later,” he called back, and finally taking back a little ground, dashed away in a clatter of clicks.

~

Above the Wolfbend Mountain center ger, a huge lonicera banner fluttered high in the air. A streak of white lined the teal surface, appearing somber.

Little Ting’yu’s anxiously quavering voice was reciting: “Army for the nation, fail no man. Flesh for the Lord, spare no doubt. In times of danger, fear no death. On trials of trust… On trials of trust…”

Qu Fongning knocked the bronze rings outside, and Little Ting’yu spun around like a frightened bird. “… Deflect no… guilt¹. Fongning.”

“Little General.” Qu Fongning made a call, knelt and helped him to revert the backwards breastplate mirror. “What are you reciting?”

“Tomorrow morning… on the commanding podium, they want me to give some lectures,” said Little Ting’yu. He stared back at the rumpled ball of scroll, and started to recite again: “Annihilate enemies with wit, treat followers with benevolence…”

Qu Fongning spread out his fingers covering the scroll, and lifted his face at him. “Stop reciting.”

“No, I need to memorize it.” Little Ting’yu was adamant. “It’ll be done after I memorize it—Fongning! What are you doing?”

Qu Fongning pulled out the scroll, lifted it high, and back a few steps.

“Give it back to me,” said Little Ting’yu, anxiously.

Qu Fongning retreated a little more.

“Give it back to me,” repeated Little Ting’yu, his voice taking on a twang.

Qu Fongning remained motionless.

Little Ting’yu suddenly lost it. “Give it back to me! Give it back to me!” he roared: “It’ll be fine after I memorize it! Then I’ve completed my task! Just let me have a good, sound day tomorrow! Fongning…”

Two drops of tears fell, splattering on his clean, brand-new breastplate mirror.

“Fine. Sorry,” Qu Fongning compromised. He came up a step and unrolled the scroll on his lap. After the recipient calmed for a moment, he asked again: “What about after tomorrow?”

Little Ting’yu’s reddened eyes focused on him, the lips cracking with blood shifted, but said nothing.

Tigerhead Twine entered the ger. “Little General, Commander Hadan asked you to go over, said there are things to discuss.”

Little Ting’yu answered and hurried to wipe his face. Tigerhead Twine came familiarly to tug Qu Fongning’s hand. “Little Big Brother Qu! I made you so many flower wreaths, they are all dry now!”

Qu Fongning laughed and gave him a hug. “I’ll come to get it from you in a bit! Let’s accompany Little General over.”

~

Wolfbend Mountain’s meeting pavilion was much smaller in scale. Thirty stout-built, high-spirited Western Army commanders congregated here. Some brought their seats, some straight-up sat on the ground. Hadan sat in the center. His full head of white hair was tied into a large braid and dressed in large and small silver beads. He was stroking his bread, laughing and chatting with others. Tigerhead Twine pushed Little Ting’yu in. He was cordially polite to every commander, calling this one great uncle, and that one little uncle. Few of the group bowed in salute, most only nodded. Little Ting’yu’s wheelchair came to the outer circle, and couldn’t go in anymore. Tigerhead Twine meekly asked the others to make way; he said many times, but no one heard. In the end, it was Hadan who saw, made a hail, and his wheelchair could enter the center. Parked the vehicle, he only intently listened to Hadan, Uyghren and the others talk, and couldn’t interject with a single word.

Qu Fongning watched from the outside and privately shook his head, recalling when Yujien met with his subordinates. It was mostly him exclusively sitting in the center, one hand propped up on the wolf head throne’s arm, two legs wide open, and very casual with his posture. If his tone was to waver by a slight, the responsible officer would blanch, and be head full of cold sweat. Little Ting’yu, this way, was like a guest returning to their old hometown. From start to finish, he heard only other people’s voices, and Little Ting’yu pretty much only muttered two tweets: one was “fine,” the other was “yes.” When he finally managed to say something, the entire audience laughed — though the laughter was full of kindness. Hadan patted his head and said something else, then came another round of guffawing from the crowd.

Qu Fongning took another look at the pink-faced and red-eared Little Ting’yu and surreptitiously returned to the center ger.

Little Ting’yu came back, took out a new scrolls book and restarted his recitation. Qu Fongning sat on the side, cross-legged, and watched him with his face in his hand. Little Ting’yu stammered in reciting the beginning and turned the wheelchair towards him. “Fongning, I can’t memorize with you being here.”

Qu Fongning raised his eyes and met his gaze. “They are taking you as a child to kid.”

Little Ting’yu dropped mute, then made a wry laugh at himself. “They are my elders, my father’s most respected…”

“You are you, not your father,” said Qu Fongning.

Little Ting’yu lifted his head in terror, and stared at him for length, as if not knowing him. “My father said…”

“Back then, when General Ting’schi made you read military tactics, you always tried to find an opening to run away, took me to fly kites, and asked me to catch mice for you to see.”

Little Ting’yu dropped his head in defeat, fingers clawing the edge of the scroll.

“Fongning, I can’t be a general,” he said after a long time.

“If you are driven to memorize books, be a furnishing during meetings, and as soon as you think about going up the Commanding podium, are so scared that you can’t speak… You can’t.”

He regarded Little Ting’yu, his lips a thin purse. “If you don’t want to live this way for your whole life, I here have an idea.”

~

The next morning, mist veiled the skies.

Beneath Wolfbend Mountain stood solemn lines of tens of thousands of soldiers. The commanding podium was shaped like a pearl clam, and the connecting cableways on the two sides, as black as ink, hang across the air of the valley. Before the podium rose a hundred long black steps, and below the commander general, distributed two wings of the commanders, their air awe-inspiring. In the center, the dark chief seat was blanketed with a white sheet, draping all the way below the steps, mourning the recent loss of the late commander general.

As Little Ting’yu saw the swaying cableways, his complexion paled by a few more tints. Without a word, Qu Fongning pushed him forward.

Little Ting’yu had his body in mid-air, wobbling back-and-fro, the soles of his feet ached, and his heart felt weak. Qu Fongning pressed on the back of his hand in consolation and placed him before the chief seat.

Hadan came before the crowd, surveyed the soldiers before the podium, and raised his voice: “Good sons!”

“Ho!” exploded beneath the podium.

Little Ting’yu sat at the end of tens of thousands of lines of gazes and felt as if sitting on pins and needles. This thunderous blast caught him off guard, startled his whole body into a quiver, and he almost fell down the wheelchair.

Qu Fongning helped him sit upright in discretion and exchanged a look with him. Little Ting’yu, full of dread, looked upon him with desperate pleads. Qu Fongning firmly shook his head, and pouted his lips towards the base of the podium, showing: “There’s no backing down.”

Hadan’s speech was short and powerful, ending in with a tribute to the late commander general. He held his right hand to his bosom and stood with his eyes closed, and the soldiers beneath the podium raised their hands to their hearts and stood in solemnity.

Little Ting’yu’s trepidation settled, seeing the crowd observing silence for his father, whose day-to-day loving care he was again reminded of, and the hollows of his eyes couldn’t help turning red.

Then Hadan made a sudden spin, revealing Little Ting’yu figure, and pronounced stately: “The army cannot advance a day without the lord! This young general is the late general’s sole heir, the new commander general of our army!”

The soldiers knelt on a single knee, their hands on their blades.

“Commander General!” They roared in unison.

Hadan gave him a look, signaling that he could start.

Little Ting’yu’s nerves were beyond expression. He imitated him in surveying a round, but his throat seemed to have been blocked by cotton, his entire body uneasy, and he tried to mask it by clearing his throat.

The location of the commander’s podium was meticulously selected; the concave texture in the back was especially effective in amplifying volume. With this cough, the cliffs rang and the vale answered, and the echoes resonated upon every ear.

His heart palpitated, his nerves augmented exponentially, and in came an uncontrollable wave of coughing, every sound sent to the infinite distance.

The well-disciplined soldiers remained impassive in expression and posture. Yet standing on the steps, a few of the commanders’ faces had turned peculiar.

Straitened and utterly mortified, Litte Ting’yu bit his lips white. Then he felt a current of warmth on his shoulder. It was Qu Fongning kneeling down, looking at him with silent uttering: “Don’t be afraid!”

His eyes were full of tender encouragement, and Little Ting’yu’s heart gradually calmed. He nodded towards him, spun to face the soldiers beneath the podium, and opened his mouth:

“I am Ting’yu, sixteen… this year.”

All was silent below the podium.

The fist Little Ting’yu pressed on the chair arm trembled incessantly, and his voice quavered as well: “As you can see, I am invalid in both of my legs, mobility-impaired, and unable to lead the assaults, nor charge with the vanguard. Despite… this, I still wish to bathe in blood together and strive towards victory with you all!”

Deficient in the tenor tone, his voice weak, and these supposedly passionate words came out without any thrust at all. Only his tone was affable and the sentiments true, and the meaning of kindness seemed to appear on the faces of the soldiers below.

With this encouragement, he hurried to peer another look at Qu Fongning. Seeing him discreetly giving him a thumbs-up, his heart loosened, and his voice rose a little: “In the event of our congregation today, I have two matters to announce to everyone.”

He rose his head towards the great banner above and said in a low tone: “My father was an exceptional general; he was benevolent and faithful, was martyred for the nation, and my role model for life. He had told me in life that: A man’s flesh can easily perish, but the soul can live on forever. I believe… my father’s valiance will always live in everyone’s hearts. And instead of the three corps persisting in white, we should revive our spirits and use our coming tens of thousands of victories as the best homage!”

He took off the white cloth on his arm and brazenly threw it off. “The first matter: mourning’s end!”

Qu Fongning raised his arms, flew high the white silk from the center seat, and tossed it beneath the black stairs, like the colossal broken spread of a wing. The soldiers beneath the podium ensued in taking off their white clothes and tossing it to the ground.

The muscles on Hadan’s face jerked. He wanted to go up to speak, but a deputy commander from the side tugged at him. His expression angry, Hadan pulled off his white cloth.

The three corps removed their mourning whites, Tigerhead Twine immediately rose a new spread of army banners. The pale teal lonicera flag flew proudly in the mountain winds, completely renewing the appearance.

Little Ting’yu tightened his fist and continued: “My father built this army in Yongle, first year, and expanded it to its scale today. Six camps and twelve official and deputy commanders; every camp with six millenarian regiments, each with seventy-two officials and deputy captains. For the Western Army, these eighty-four leaders had contributed their courage and abilities, for which they should be sincerely respected. I shall remember your contributions! And I declare that, from today on, you are …”

He paused, a streak of blood seeped out between the cracks of his fingers.

“… all dismissed.”

A commotion beneath the podium. Hadan was the first to strike out, his face furious: “You… this is nonsense!”

Little Ting’yu shrunk back, and hard suppressing his trepidation, spoke to those below the platform: “The new eighty-four leaders shall be elected from the conference of those beneath the podium! Any with over thirty nominations can take part in the election! Those two with the highest popularity will take the offices of the official and deputy positions! And I shall personally supervise on the day of the decision. For the next half of the year, I shall partake in common residence and meals with everyone, to review one-on-one, and those with qualification can succeed the positions. Moreover, those originally in position can also partake thereof.”

This was the first of the crowd to hear of such a method of election, and for a moment, discussions swelled in buzz.

Hadan raged. His pale-white brows shook about, his head full of silver beads rattled in messy jingles. “Ridiculous! For thousands of years, the men leading soldiers had always been named by the commander general himself. How can you mess around like this!? He who came up with such sort of ludicrous methods is no more than a pretentious attention seeker.”

The well-simmered text which Little Ting’yu had memorized the day before finally came to their use. “Uncle Hadan, the selection of military leaders requires four debates and nine tests, seven selections and seven observations. You haven’t met them… how would you know… they must be a pretentious attention seeker?”

Hadan stumbled, and veins exploded on the hand pointing to him. “You… How can you speak to me like this? How did I bid you yesterday? You have always been a sensible child, how… did you suddenly change your nature? Bless your father on the heavens, if he were to see you trample through his heart work like this, how pained would he be?”

Little Ting’yu heard him mention his late father, his heart at a jolt, and answered not. He saw Qu Fongning closely watching him at attention, making a few mouthing towards him, and knew success or failure depended on this act, and hardened his head.

“Now… I am the lord commander. Please obey… my commands.”

“The Little General is new to the role. It’s unavoidable for him to make some astounding speeches. All nonsense and invalid,” Hadan told the group of commanders, not taking him seriously at all.

“Uncle Hadan, I am serious.”

“… everything is to follow the existing order, no change to the staffing. Our good men can rest assured!” Hadan interrupted, facing below the podium.

The crowd was some bewildered, some relieved, some disappointed, and the most suspicious in whispers.

Little Ting’yu appeared gentle, but his heart had a place for stubbornness. When General Ting’schi ordered him to study military tactics, because he disliked it, for many years he refused to learn, and his family was helpless about it. If Hadan had been peaceful in attitude and detailed in explaining the stakes, and with him unsure at heart, he might’ve given in and complied in obedience. But his attitude was so gruff, and as Little Ting’yu’s temper came up, he refused to compromise, and thus dropped his tone: “Uncle Hadan, changing commander’s order, disobeying regulations, racketing in speech, what crime should it be?”

“The crime of inciting military disorder! So what? You dare to take me?” roared Hadan, his hair and crown standing on ends from anger.

Tuler saw the heated conflict between the two and hurried forward to dissuade. Hadan shoved him aside with a single push. “General Ting’schi, a hero all his life but left you behind, this crippled waste!” And he returned to point at Little Ting’yu’s nose, cursing: “When I started following your father, you were still milking from your mother’s tits! Even your father is cordial with me, what are you in comparison!?”

Amid the uproar, a shadowy mechanical crossbow slowly focused between his eyes.

Hadan’s voice abruptly dropped and laughed at the zenith of fury. “Kid, you… try it?”

Little Ting’yu’s rigid finger skimmed the icy-cold button of the trigger, his waist and back in small tremors.

Qu Fongning covered his kneecap, speaking silently: “Little General, decisive at the time of decision.”

Little Ting’yu’s teeth bit hard through his lips, blood gushed out in globs, and he finally braced his heart, closed his eyes, and sank his finger into the button.

A heavy black bolt instantly boomed out. Its recoil sent Little Ting’yu’s wheelchair rocking backwards by several paces!

The rabble was still pulling and tugging in dissuasion, then a canopy of blood mist exploded. Hadan’s entire head had already detached from the body and flew.

Half of the head fell onto the pristine white silk. Pink brain flesh splotched the pale gray hairs, and the blood-soaked silver beads were still jingling in disorder.

Dead silence between heaven and earth, as the cold mountain winds gradually dispersed the thin white mist.

This was the first time in Litte Ting’yu’s life of killing someone. A layer of bloody film seemed to have masked his eyes, a strange odor assaulted his nostrils, and a familiar desire to retch soared up his stomach. His face paled to greenness.

Qu Fongning took away the crossbow from his hand and clasped his fingers.

Litte Ting’yu’s sensation gradually returned, and from a plane of confusing white chaos, he directed towards the soldiers, who were obviously starting to show signs of fear, and opened his mouth blankly:

“Colonel Hadan overstepped in speech, and was executed on site for the crime of inciting military disorder.”

Qu Fongning retreated off the cableway and watched the first shaft of fiery, golden light fall on Hadan’s mutilated corpse.

~

That evening in the meeting pavilion, the group of Western Army commanders whispered in low discussion. When Little Ting’yu’s wheelchair entered, everyone’s attention focused on him alone, and those originally sitting with hooked backs and shoulders hurried to stand up as well.

Qu Fongning laid down the curtains, his lips curled, and silently backed down.

~

From then on, the election of commanders, change of military offices, and various other army matters followed in the coaster. Little Ting’yu completely changed from his previous pretty and petty stance, and rushed around day and night between the military camps and the center ger. And on the black soils under the height of summer, the marks of the wheelchair imprinted two elongated tracks. Qu Fongning found him often discussing late into the night for the meetings, and called Songshr to cook and send over some ginseng soups. Little Ting’yu was arranging some matters with several technicians from the smithing camps and didn’t even look at the incomer. He casually took it over, had two sips, offhandedly put it aside, and continued to point at a spot on the drawings.

Songshr retreated out of the yurt and said vacantly, “Big Brother Little Ting’yu seems changed.”

Qu Fongning leaned on the side of the yurt entrance, looking at the inside, and made a small smile. “Yeah, people change.”

A long while later, the technicians finally made their departure in perfect subservience. Little Ting’yu followed to exit the yurt and was very dismayed. “A horde of dim cows and wooden horses, understanding zero flexibility whatsoever!”

Qu Fongning lifted the medicinal pot in his hand. “Drink this and clear your veins, save some strength before swearing.”

Little Ting’yu drank two sips and watched the limitless grassy plains beyond Wolfbend Mountain. All was quiet, save for the lingering songs of the summer bugs.

He slowly stroked the bright pearl on the arm handle, his gaze empty, and his voice darkened also: “I treated Uncle Hadan this way, was I right, or… wrong? I couldn’t sleep at night these past few days; and as soon as I closed my eyes, his… bloody head would appear before my eyes. When I was small, he even fed me almond candies…”

“No, you did right.” Qu Fongning held his hand. “The late commander general asked him to support you and help you, but he never gave you half a sense of respect. He had no intention of preparing you into a competent successor; he only wanted someone to sit in the chief seat, a perfectly obedient little puppet.”

Little Ting’yu regarded him for length, the color of somberness receded, and a faint light seemed to glow in his eyes. “Fongning, thank you. I am truly… grateful to you.”

Qu Fongning returned a sincere smile. “Don’t speak this way. Aren’t we best friends?”

Little Ting’yu clasped his hand in return and loosened only after a long time.

~

In the beginning of the Western Army’s reform, hearts wavered in turmoil. Qu Fongning secretly helped Little Ting’yu to find usable personnels, and was so busy, he spun his head dizzy. After many days, he finally found an opening to return to the City of Ghosts. Yujien happened to just finish his lance practice. The snow-white silk tunic was half-soaked, and causally hung on his shoulders. He finished listening to Qu Fongning’s flowery report, sat back on the bedside, and pulled over some clothes to wipe at the sweat.

Qu Fongning immediately chased in, yelling: “Eh!”

“Eh what?”

Qu Fongning, eyes sparkling, almost flopped onto his lap. “How’s my idea? Impressive, no?”

Yujien’s brow arch creased slightly. “The first one was a little showy, the second one too hasty. Hadan… is not some terribly rare talent, killed be killed. All in all, little kids, playing house.”

Dunked by his pail of cold water from the head down, Qu Fongning wilted at once. Yujien pulled him towards himself. “Little Ting’yu nature, taking a sweep with a broad stroke for a substantial change, could be… the right approach. But tending the military differs from others, benevolence, wisdom, courage, and trust, none cannot be lacking. Only focusing on power intimidation, in length, cannot win the people’s support in the end.”

Qu Fongning nodded in thought. “Then I’ll go speak to him again, lest he gets addicted to killing, and wants to kill every day…”

“What’s the rush? Go tomorrow. Come here, keep me company.” Yujien pulled him to stay and slapped on his thighs.

Qu Fongning attempted a bit of demureness, then sat down forthright and leaned into his naked shoulders, his hands strapping around his tight waist

Yujien held his back, carried him up by the back of his knees, and let his entire weight settle on his body. “Talk again?”

Qu Fongning giggled aloud. Their eyes met. Yujien lowered his head and kissed his lips.

Qu Fongning half-closed his eyes and dangled his calves in the indulgence, the golden bells on his ankles ringing a chime.

Yujien parted with him and took a look. “Why still wearing this?”

Qu Fongning nuzzled in his arms. “Back when I was a slave, I wanted from morn to eve to yank it off. Now I’m free. I’m instead in no hurry to take it off.”

Yujien pulled over his taut calf. “Free?” His rough hand held the dainty arch of his foot, the hard callus on his finger grazing over the cream of his sole. “Think again?”

Qu Fongning’s entire leg instantly tingled to the bones, even his kneecap jittered. He laughed, wobbling all over, and immediately changed his lines: “Master! Master! I’m wrong. I’m your slave, I’ll do whatever you say!”

Summer clothes were already thin, Yujien had him rubbing right on his thighs for a good time, and the member between his thighs pressed hard against the back of his waist. The still inexperienced Qu Fongning instantly blushed, looped around his neck, and said no more.

The pair’s fiery gazes intertwined. Yujien’s lips pressed down again, kissing him in conquest, signaling him to open his mouth. Qu Fongning obediently opened by a slit to greet his strong, practiced invasion. From the sweeps of his tongue on his oral walls, he only felt a ticking and tingling sensation, very comfortable, and he furtively tried to extend out his own tongue and take a lick at the root of his teeth.

Yujien’s hands around him tightened forward, and deepened the passionate kiss on him, leading the tip of his tongue into the entanglement. Qu Fongning kissed several times and flicked back. Yujien pulled him apart a little and took a bite at him. “Learning fast.”

Qu Fongning took a tiny bite at him as well. “The best master produces the top student!”

Yujien’s eyes showed a smile. Indulgence entwined with desire, his lower member hardened all the more, and he pressed him half onto the bed. He hugged him with one hand, and the other rolled up his top. The belly of his finger kneaded one of his nipples.

Qu Fongning hissed from the tickling. “… I’m not a woman,” he mumbled.

“I know you aren’t. So flat,” said Yujien. He kissed down, brushing on his chin, and grinding through his shorts, touching his half-hard masculine member. “Woman hasn’t got this.”

The tough calluses on his hand were distinct in pattern. As soon as Qu Fongning fell into his hands, his lower body completely melted. Yujien pressed against his chin, making him lean all the way back on his neck, and scratched his stubble along his throat. Qu Fongning’s body was still in development; the bump on his throat was not obvious, for there was only a shallow bulge. Yujien took a bite and felt a sudden contraction of his entire body, his breathing a panicked wave and the member in his hand suddenly swelling large, and thereof laughed and persisted in biting. Qu Fongning’s body shook and trembled.His breathing turned into panting, and his throat made low growls. Yujien returned to kiss his lips. “This place of your is rather uncommon.”

The rims of his eyes reddened, and his gaze fell unfocused. “Wha… what?” he gasped.

Yujien said nothing. The rough belly of his finger made weighted circles around his tip. Qu Fongning blushed completely red, and buried his face deep into the crook of his shoulder.

“Why so shy? This is not the first time Da-ge has touched you,” said Yujien by his ear. The tail of his finger flicked and pressed at his lower loins, and his knuckle made a curled forward push. Soon, a wetness came onto the fabrics between Qu Fongning’s legs, and the corners of his eyes moistened as well. “That… doesn’t count…”

Yujien nibbled at the soft bones on his ears, his voice extremely hoarse and husky: “That doesn’t count, this counts. Right?”

Qu Fongning was teased soft all over, and his legs curled up. Yujien pulled his shorts to the root of his thighs, and carefully studied his vertical, hard erection. Qu Fongning tried to block in embarrassment. “Don’t… Don’t look.”

Yujien caught his hand. “Why can’t I look?” He came on to kiss him again, his hand looping him up and down. “Tell Da-ge, have you done it with anyone else?”

Qu Fongning wrapped around his body and tried all his might to rise up, but his arms were all weak without strength, and the inside of his thighs shook ceaselessly. “Do… what? You keep talking about things I don’t understand, and… don’t teach me.”

Yujien laughed. His hand sped up, making him moan aloud. His lower body tagged right on his thighs, and his naked chest rubbed on his erect nipples. “Fine, no asking. Little virgin.”

Red hues tumbled on Qu Fongning’s face. He found his eyes between the moans, his gaze a misty blur. Yujien held his lower body with repeated strokes. The hard callus rubbed on his soft, tender head, and squeezed along the veins of the shaft.

Qu Fongning moaned uncontrollably, his gasps rustling and scratchy. In the night of mid-summer, his body was soon covered with sweat, and the sweat transpired the particular fresh scent of a youth. Yujien only had a light sheen of sweat, and his chest was moistened hot and sticky from the contact. He drank in his scent, with his hand making the watery noises. Qu Fongning wiggled in hard containment. “Don’t… It’s coming out…” he gasped.

His virile member hardened more and more, the clear fluid from the tip wetted Yujien’s entire hand. Yujien’s steel-like muscular upper half pressed on him. “Mn, call something nice.”

“Da-ge…ge…” moaned Qu Fongning, his face a red flush.

Yujien kissed his lips and helped him with a last stroke. Qu Fongning cried low and jerked up seven and eight times, spouting their lower abdomens full of white semen.

Yujien held his sweaty nape and brushed at his lower half. The white liquid followed the lines of his palm and dripped down.

Qu Fongning recovered from the climax, saw the tease in his expression, and couldn’t help a little cross. “You’re… laughing at me.”

“Laughing no more,” chuckled Yujien. He casually pulled over a corner of the bedding and sloppily wiped for him. Qu Fongning struggled a bit in embarrassment, and Yujien returned to lower his head and kiss him, licking at his wet lashes.

Qu Fongning had Yujien’s solid erection thrusting against him from his thighs to his hip, giving him a peculiar sore. Now immersed in the languor after the climax, he responded to his kiss, and found an opening to ask: “I’ll help you as well…?”

Yujien chortled and patted his rear. “Next time. I’m afraid I can’t control myself.” He parted from his body and walked out.

Qu Fongning hurriedly climbed up, but a spinning lethargy pulled at his body, and he couldn’t move after holding up half a side. “Where’re you going?”

“Shower,” said Yujien. He sided as he left the ger. “Put on your pants.”

Qu Fongning closed his eyes and dragged up his shorts with tugs and pulls. His left leg crossed over on the right knee. He looked at the bells on his ankle and listened to the sound of water splashing outside, with his head in a whirl of dizziness.

It was uncomfortably stuffy inside. After laying for a moment, he couldn’t bear the heat, got off the bed and walked out.

Yujien had his back to him, and was taking a shower aside the martial field. He lifted a wooden bucket in one hand, absent-mindedly pouring it overhead. His robust figure was completely naked, the sinews of the muscles clear and strong, his waist and core well-built, and the lines on the hips clean like a knife carved.

A bucket of water showered over. He shook his head to the two sides, and pale water droplets splattered around. Large droplets of water rolled down his bronze skin, gathering into a black puddle beneath his feet.

Qu Fongning’s hand already lifted the curtain. Upon seeing this, his mouth dried, and he instead went back a step.

Yujien wept up his dripping hair above his head, had his right hand before his body, threw his head back towards the full moon above the cliffs, and his waist was in faint trembles. Soon, his expression turned forbearing, his breathing quickened, and white mist steamed above his body.

Qu Fongning suddenly understood what he was doing, and a rush of heat instantly shot up his spine, and tried to surreptitiously retreat into the ger, but his feet wobbled.

Then he heard Yujien’s husky voice ring up: “Where’re you going now that you’ve seen it… Come here.”

Qu Fongning, immensely awkward, had to walk over in one step after another. Under the silvery luminance, he finally saw clear of the member Yujien was stroking in his hand: savagely long, incomparably thick, the shaft head a deep sphere, full to the size of a toddler’s fist.

His breathing almost halted, his pupils zoomed large, his entire body stiff, and only one thought ran through his head:

​ — Not a vessel of the human realm.

“Stand before me,” said Yujien.

Qu Fongning dazedly walked over and raised his face to look at him. The moonlight clearly illuminated the contours of his handsome face. The deep-set eyes hid in the shadow, but desire was pouring out in floods.

Yujien squatted down slightly, wrapped around his legs and lifted, and let him sit on his arm. “It’s better to look at your face.”

Qu Fongning was brought into an uncontrollable swing. He dared not look at the movements in his right hand, and connected with his gaze. His emotion curiously compelled, he leaned forward to kiss his lips.

Yujien flicked out his lips and made with him a long, deep kiss. His tongue charged into his mouth, and his right hand quickened the strokes. His breathing heaved, and the water jewels speedily evaporated.

Qu Fongning was hard on burying his face in the crook of his shoulder, while suspended in the air in front of his body. Yujien’s powerful physique thrusted in quick successions. Soon, a low groan, his muscles suddenly tensed as hard as steel, and his crotch hit him hard for a dozen humps.

Qu Fongning came off him and his feet landed on firm ground, feeling a little dizzy. Yujien’s muscles rose and fell, gasping and hugging him for kisses, leaving on his cheeks, his body, many lanes of thick white seed.

~

After the lovemaking, the two shared the bed to sleep. The summer night was unbearably hot, and the bed seemed to be a burned-out oven. Qu Fongning tossed and turned on the inside, sleepy and rumpled, and another layer of sweat sprouted on top of his newly washed arms. Yujien spread out his arm, picked up a go piece from the side of the bed, and forced an upward flick, breaking the ropes at the yurt tip. Soft starlight spilled in, and the stuffy air at once refreshed.

Qu Fongning’s body cooled and lost its grogginess. He stared a while at the starry cosmos above the yurt top and turned his body to look at Yujien.

His handsome face was bathed under a sheet of starlight. When his eyes closed, there seemed to be a slight frown, with thick brows like a sword, and lashes, short and straight, casting a bladelike shadow along his face.

Qu Fongning protended his finger, wanting to touch it. Yujien’s eyes immediately opened.

“Still hot?” he asked.

Qu Fongning retracted his hand in diffidence and shook his head.

Yujien held over his hand and brought it down, and again closed his eyes.

“Da-ge, us this, count as… slept?” Qu Fongning enquired quietly.

“Mn, slept.” Yujien shifted the corner of his lips.

Qu Fongning nodded in absorption, his mind going about his little ideas: Does that mean I also slept with Little Ting’yu? No, he didn’t help me. It would at most count going halfway.

Yujien propped over and regarded him with sleepy eyes. “Thinking about what? Regrets?”

Qu Fongning was pressed to him, face-to-face, and couldn’t resist looking at his lips. “No,” he whispered.

Yujien lowered and touched his lips, hung above him, and regarded him deeply. “Best you don’t. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” said Qu Fongning, in a tiny voice.

His heart felt a little contentment, and a little melancholy. His thoughts wandered for a long time before he finally closed his eyes and slept.

~

As the night passed, the air humid and heavy from dew, Qu Fongning groggily rolled again into Yujien’s arms. The next day as Yujien woke and moved the curve of his arm, the stubble on his chin rubbed on his face, and he began kissing him deeply. Qu Fongning responded with closed eyes. Intimate for a turn, his originally already half hard, virile member turned all energetic and awake. Yujien pressed on him, his lower body grinding him through the clothes, and made him cum again. Then he got up for the roll call.

Qu Fongning dozed for a while longer, waited until the red hues to subside from his body, and descended the cliffs back to his yurt.

Qu Sharraugh left behind a horde of slaves who presently hadn’t been claimed by new masters. The yurts were messily pitched, with the garrison encamped in between to prevent trouble. Uncle Hwei was fighting for clean water with someone else. He noticed the peculiarity on his face and inquired with hand gestures: “Where did you go last night?”

Qu Fongning blinked and said, “I did a bad thing.” He deviously leaned over, Uncle Hwei hastened to tag over his ear, and only heard him say in a low voice, “Not as bad as you think.” He giggled and jumped back. Saw Cher Bien sneakily eating a pastry, he flew in, tore away half, and walked away, chewing.

~

This day happened to be the date of the national congress in the palatial ger. King Andai was terribly dismayed at the Za’yii King Daishüban, for taking advantage of the six tribes’ pact to harbor Qu Lyn. He withdrew all of Qu Sharraugh’s lands and redistributed them to the lords and generals. Yujien took over the Rolling Clouds iron veins. As they got to the several thousand kilos of iron ores that Qu Sharraugh mined and accumulated, King Andai complained it of being too little: “If we were to announce the false decree two years later, it’s not just going to be this small quantity. Perhaps he would have even built out all the weapons for us!” Yujien said, “If we wait until he completes the militia, the tail would be too big, and it might be somewhat thorny.” This was the first time Little Ting’yu took part in the national congress; and it naturally wouldn’t come to his turn to speak. He sat at the far end of the long black stone table, meticulously taking notes line by line.

Soon the meeting dispersed. As Yujien set out of the drapes, Little Ting’yu came after in close pursuit. “Sir, is the crater of the Seventh month still opening this year?” he called.

The crater of the Seventh month was the Ghost Army’s grand method of selection. Due to Prince Qu Sharraugh’s mutiny, it had been held up this year. Yujien didn’t understand his meaning. “Why? If you need men, you can have the pick of the war prisoners.”

Little Ting’yu had accumulated some martial air from the past couple of days, but lost it all as soon as he faced him. “Nono, no it,” he said hastily, “I was thinking… before you do the selection, there’s someone…”

Yujien understood. “Not him,” he said mildly.

Oyghrmuki pulled over the horse and took several glances towards Little Ting’yu wheelchair, very curious. “Not who?”

Yujien threw him a kick and mounted the horse. Little Ting’yu pushed his wheelchair and chased many steps. “Then… Can I go see him?”

Yujien studied him for a round. “Naturally, yes.”

Little Ting’yu hastily said his thanks and asked again, “Can I bring him something to eat?”

This child is certainly true to Ningning. Yujien was moved at heart, and thus said, “This afternoon, let your smithing camp come to Rolling Clouds Mountains. I have something to give you.” He responded not to his inquiry, tucked his thighs, and rode swiftly off.

~

At night, Yujien looped around Qu Fongning, and, with some gravity and some tease, asked him: “Your best friend is letting you to go be a commander under him, want to go?”

Qu Fongning had just been cuddled and made to cum once on his leg. His breathing was still uneven, and his speech was gooey and unclear: “You’ll let me go?”

“Let your ass. If you’re gone, who’s going to accompany me in bed?” Yujien smacked a kiss on his hairline.

Qu Fongning wrapped around his neck and nuzzled. “There’s plenty. You’ve got so many women…”

“Women?” Yujien chortled, and took a spank at his butt, his giant, vertical erection pushing firmly at his rear apart from the fabrics. “What? Slept and not claiming? Don’t want the old boy anymore?”

Qu Fongning rolled on him, laughing. “That’s not it! Anyway… anyway, you’re fine with whoever.”

Yujien humped him. “How am I fine with anyone? I’m not fine with anyone other than you.”

Qu Fongning instantly blushed. His moisty raven black eyes held him, and he leaned in for a kiss.

The kisses he offered out of his own initiative all seemed to be a play, with much more affection and coquetry than desire. Sometimes his tongue would venture into Yujien’s lips, just a bit, and would laugh right after a little tangle, all very childish. Yujien got a bite from his little sharp teeth and saw him laughing into a wobble. Tender love overflowed in his heart, and he kissed his crown.

Qu Fongning was feeling very comfortable with his kisses. He stretched out his posture and bumped into his erection, and raised a kind proposal: “I’ll do you once?”

At the present, Yujien didn’t have any strong desire to cum, and said carelessly, “It’ll go down soon, don’t bother with it.”

When he is completely hard, he is almost a whole zhang long, and as thick as a toddler’s arm. Qu Fongning had been humped searing hot between his thighs, and even his body rose up a bit. Upon his words, he took a curious glance at him, and extended his hand to touch his crotch. “Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“If you touched it more, it’ll be,” Yujien’s voice dropped by a key.

Qu Fongning swiftly retracted his hand and dared not to touch it anymore. He behaved still in his arms for a while and took off his mask to wear.

“Wear it well. You’ll be Da-ge’s little guard, feed my horses and wash my clothes at day, and sleep with me at night,” said Yujien.

“I don’t want to be a guard!” Qu Fongning immediately rebuffed. “I want to be a captain, a commander, a general!”

“It’ll be so good to be by my side. However big the trouble, I’ll block them for you, take care of you, protect you, and,” said Yujien, and kissed him through the mask; “—always cherish you.”

Qu Fongning beheld him for some time. “I’m going down your crater,” he said, suddenly.

“Going down to do what? I’ll just have a word with Staff Officer Bana. You’re the little hero who dived deep within the rebels, Damu Qu of the Autumn Contests, and still scared that I won’t want you?” said Yujien.

“But my uncle and brothers aren’t heroes, nor Damus. You won’t want them,” Qu Fongning replied in earnest.

Yujien paused and regarded him anew. Qu Fongning met his gaze.

“I’m going to protect them. I will take them out, stand before your great banner, and let you put on my mask with your own hands.”

Something changed in Yujien’s eyes. “Mn, you’ve spoken right,” he said in a lament-like low voice; “Da-ge had taken you for a child, looked down on you.”

Qu Fongning chuckled at once and sprawled onto him. “Where are you taking me as a child? Humped me into so much pain…”

Doting love swirled in Yujien’s eyes. He uncovered the mask to kiss him deeply and pushed him onto the bed.

~

Yongning fourth year, Eighth month, the sixth, the Ghost Army’s sixty-day inhumane deep pit survival selection began.

Large masses of slaves, prisoners of war, and death convicts in tattered clothing, gaunt and bony, took turns in lifting their arms and peeling their pants to let the guard by the crater to search their bodies. All food, medicine, and water were confiscated. After the inspection, the guard let down the cables, which the crowd slid down along.

Struck from the impact of a meteorite, the crater had been deposited for over twenty years. A hundred zhang deep, the pale-gray cliff perfectly vertical, and barren with no vegetation. There was only a sea of crushed stone, and a dozen cracks sinking towards center hollows, like humongous mushroom blooming underground. At the bottom, mounts of bones, flocks of vultures, and waves of rotten stench permeated everywhere.

Qu Fongning wrapped all of his spring and summer clothes over his body, walked together with Cher Bien them three, and trudged in the forward lineup. Gerrgu came before the edge of the crater and only saw a blur of heads, like a crowd of ants. Even though he was gifted with a supreme strength, at this moment he couldn’t help shaking with fear. Suddenly, he felt a warmth on his hand; it was Qu Fongning pulling him from the back, and speaking gently: “Brother Gu, there’s me!”

Gerrgu both respected and loved this little brother. Hearing him say this, it was almost as swallowing a reassurance pill. He clasped his hand and slid down the cable.

Cher Bien had been busy stashing his treasures for the past couple of days. Thinking about how his place of cache was so brilliant, but he didn’t know whether he’ll have the life to come back to dig it back up, and felt a great sadness. As he got to the edge, his rodent-like face had turned immensely ugly, and how could he be willing to go down himself? Just as he was about to flounder at the gallows, Qu Fongning had flown a leg up from the back and kicked him down.

Left behind with only Uncle Hwei and him standing at the edge, peering down, he let out a low sign: “Seek the riches in the risk, let’s go!”

~

Oyghrmuki worried about Qu Fongning in his heart. And for several days, he clamored at Yujien to take a look at the crater. Yujien ignored his anxiety, bothered and inquired not, and only until the eighth day did he unhurriedly take him over. Oyghrmuki, unbearably anxious, hands on the pergola, peered down. He pointed to a little black dot at the bottom and yelped, “General, I saw Little Syr!”

Yujien folded his hand, standing on the side. As he heard, he swept a glance. “It’s not him.”

Oyghrmuki felt no shame, and with the help of the guard, found another spot. “That one! That one must be him!”

Yujien neither confirmed nor denied, but turned to inquire, “How many factions on the bottom?”

“They split into two factions. Each leader has comparable numbers, battling day and night,” reported the guard captain.

By this point, the dense waves of black dots started the skirmishes again. One side seemed to have been suppressed, retreated many rounds, and cleared out a spread of white field, leaving behind a dozen corpses. The other side immediately swept over and soon returned to their turf. As the whiteness reemerged again, the corpses had disappeared.

Yujien’s brow arches stirred, and he pointed to one of the leader-like characters. “Who’s that?”

The guard captain attentively discerned for a moment and answered: “This man is called Uighshön Daur, a heinous criminal. He made himself lord over Mongus City, ensnared hundreds of underlings, and even the Warden Master needed to give him some respect. This man is especially adept in combat. He emerged victorious in the Autumn Contests three years ago and won the honor of Damu.”

“Another Damu!” Oyghrmuki ehhed and yelled, “I wonder if Little Syr has made this impressive friend?”

“Damu Qu offended this man on the first day. The two are now… on opposing sides, and often have conflicts,” replied the guard captain.

Oyghrmuki blanched in fright and squatted by the edge, gawking for a good half-of-a-day. “Oh no,” he yapped again, “this Damu is bigger than Little Syr by a whole person and more! General, your son… your little ghostling is going to get eaten!”

“Then you go down to help him!” Yujien motioned to raise his foot.

Oyghrmuki squealed, rolled and crawled to hide at the side.

A rush of noise came from the other side. It was seven or eight young soldiers pushing Little Ting’yu up, flocking him before the crater edge.

Little Ting’yu complexion was still as pale as snow, but the soft air had completely vanished. He saw Yujien and bowed in salute from afar, and bid a few words in a low voice. The soldiers by his side vied to point towards the bottom, appearing to be identifying for him.

In the height of summer, the scorching sun blazed above. There were no movements in the crater, save for the sound of tearing and chewing. Oyghrmuki saw Little Ting’yu taking out a white object, which seemed to be a kite, and couldn’t help his disappointment. “Little General’s heart is even tougher than yours! Little Syr is going to get eaten, and he’s in the mind to play!”

Little Ting’yu turned around and lifted a pack of salt at the guard, showing an inquiry. The guard captain was hesitant. “General has orders: only in the times of natural disasters are we allowed to help. This…”

“Ever since Little… the great horde dropped in,” Oyghrmuki instantly leaped up and started counting: “there hasn’t been a drop of rain for seven or eight days. If this isn’t called a natural disaster, are you going to wait until the heavens are on fire?”

The guard captain watched him rambling nonsense and Yujien making no notion of deterring him, and had to concede. Little Ting’yu gave his thanks, spread out his arm, and an object came slowly to the rise; it was a half-man-height sky lantern.

His bodyguards ignited the candles on the four corners. The lantern gradually ballooned, flew slanted above the crater, and steadily rose high.

Oyghrmuki gaped, his mouth rounded. “Wha… where’s this thing flying to?”

Then they saw Little Ting’yu straightening his back from the wheelchair, raising his hand slightly, and a bolt shot out from his sleeve, snapping off a candle. The sky lantern lost its balance and leaned over at once. Little Ting’yu followed with another bolt, hitting the lantern oil spilling, but the lantern gradually straightened, and the momentum of the rise stopped as well. And in everyone’s plain sight, it descended gently towards the bottom. Suddenly, half of a skull flew high up, hit the lantern body and broke through the grease papers. The sky lantern went crashing down, falling into the current of blackness at the bottom of the crater, like a tiny spread of cream dissolving into steaming milk tea, and instantly disappeared without a trace.

Little Ting’yu retracted the crossbow and didn’t take another look, bid his farewells and left.

Oyghrmuki tsked in amazement and squinted to look again. “Can Little Syr grab his thing?”

Yujien raised his eyes at a spot in the crater. “Look at it yourself.”

Oyghrmuki rubbed hard at his eyes and pulled his face long. “There’s got to be at least two hundred people over there, how would Old Oyghr have that eyesight? Is it the one holding up the lantern? It doesn’t look at it!”

From afar, Yujien watched the one standing in the forefront, the figure holding out an arm to stop the racket, almost spirited away. Seeing Oyghrmuki all worried, he opened his mouth: “Old Oyghr, where were you when you were sixteen, and what have you done?”

“Old Oyghr started following the Imperial Army to conquest east and west since fourteen. When I was sixteen…” said Oyghrmuki, staring into space. “I was already the first hundred-slain in the Imperial Third Battalion. Then the Chienye six armies reformed, I got the crane’s knee arthritis, and I finally came under General’s banners and shadowed until now.”

“Then what are you worried about? That sixteen-year-old in there isn’t as good as you?” Yujien said mildly, turned to mount the horse, and rode off.

How could Oyghrmuki rest assured? He persisted in loitering about every day and prattled on with the guard captain. Only until the end of the Eighth month, when the wolves entered the crater and the two sides in the bottom started fighting together, and the rain returned to normal, did he finally feel more at peace. And he was very perplexed at Yujien’s indifferent sidelining. “This is his student, and his son, who he treasures likes so much normally. At crucial times, he can be really cruel to his heart!”

~

The sixth of the Tenth month, the guards dropped the cables and made the count. And the result of the crater selection this year sent a shockwave across the entire City of Ghosts.

— A hundred and eighty-six people! Almost the total of crater survivors of all previous years.

The Ghost Army soldiers were all very curious. When the new troops entered the city, they raised their eyes and only saw old and young, and not a single strongman in tens. There were even some wretched looking, bony figures, walking in rickety staggers, and crying in loud wails as the iron burned away their slave marks. Where was the warrior style?

Staff Officer Bana was very concerned and brought it to the Commander General: “The newly selected soldiers vary greatly in quality; it is against the intent of the crater selection.”

The Commander General’s eyes already fell far. Followed to watch, he saw it was a tall youth who had a side of his shoulders laid bare and was leaning over his head, looking at the craftsman burning off the carmine cloud off his shoulder.

He thought this youth looked familiar, but for the moment couldn’t remember where he’d seen him before.

As the branding burned away, the youth grimaced at his swollen shoulder, and turned his head and said something. The men standing or erecting nearby immediately stirred. Soon, many types of ointments came from every direction. Then, a beefy-faced strongman lowered his waist and carefully helped him apply it.

The Commander General’s voice followed, even taking on the imperceptible hint of a smile:

“… Perhaps not quite.”

~

City of Ghosts, Commander’s podium. The secretary general, in full black garbs, held both hands towards the heavens, and his rich, powerful voice resounded across the martial field:

“All those living must die, die and become ghosts. The ghosts, their souls ascend onto the heavens, their spirits descend into the earth, and their breathing air fuse within the nether. Humans have birth, age, sickness, and death; but ghosts are undying and indestructible! Lively as living, why fear dying! With a death worth dying, thus is a life worth living. Our name is Ghost, and we outface the mortal world!”

Yujien, figure straight like a lance, stood beneath the great banner. On him, the black battle cloak flitted in a flutter. And on a corner of the cloak, a tuft of indigo nvquay flew high, wild and ferocious. Holding a blue-skinned roll book, and framed under Flowing Fire’s bright flaming light, he breathed with austerity.

The crowd of pit survivors had long heard of the fame of this grassland war champion, who they saw as a heavenly god. As they heard the deep voice calling their name through the mask, their hearts throbbed in thrill.

A team of secretarial officials in swaying white cloaks streamed out with wooden trays in their hands. In the trays, neatly laid two sets of black uniforms, above which rested a greenwood mask.

“Change clothes, hide face!” The secretary general bellowed the order.

The entire court was dead silent. Secretarial officials filed in to help a hundred and eighty-five men tie up their masks. In the excitement, many cried on the spot.

Qu Fongning craned his neck in search, and didn’t know for how long, until finally, waited upon a secretarial official to come before himself. There were only uniforms on the tray, and no mask to be seen. Just as he looked, a voice suddenly rang up from the podium:

“Qu Fongning, come hither.”

A mighty leap of his heart, he rose to look. On a black iron chair set on the center of the podium, there Yujien sat. And between the masses of various civil officials and commanders, he even looked a little unfamiliar.

A nameless emotion roused within him. He dazedly answered “yes,” and in the gaze of the many thousands above and below the podium, walked over and knelt before his feet.

Yujien lifted an arm and from it took off the teal round shield. The surface of the shield had already been sculpted anew into a mask; a silvery Nvquay entwined with leafy branches was in wanton bloom.

From his commanding position, Yujien lifted his face, the bronze scales of his battle armor clinking before his eye. He reclined his head to meet his eyes, feeling his rough calluses grazing across his throat.

“A thousand ghost soldiers share one face. It is to eliminate complications, so as to forge ahead indomitably. For eleven years since the founding of our army, there has been none who showed their true face; though valiant above the messes, they are anonymous and unknown. Today I am making an exception to put this mask on you, do you know why?”

Qu Fongning’s throat rolled. All the blood across his body seemed to be broiling. He shook lightly in his hand.

A light gleamed across Yujien’s eyes. He pressed that icy cold, heavy mask, with a faint smell of blood, onto his face.

“—I hope you will be remembered.”

The entire court held their breath, only the gush of long gale curling cut grass wuthered past. The vast masses of rolling clouds of the steppes’ dry season streamed across the high heavens, shrouding half of the commander’s podium in shade, and the other half basking in golden light.

Qu Fongning knelt in the shadows, beholding Yujien bathing in the golden sunlight, and his rustling voice rang up from behind the mask:

“Yes. This subordinate shall not fail the General’s wishes.”

~

These past two days, Oyghrmuki’s crane’s knee arthritis flared up. His two legs numbed hopelessly and couldn’t walk a single step. Jorrji came for the diagnosis, first give him a hard jeering, then prescribed an oddly bitter medicine, and bid Songshr to cook it for him. Oyghrmuki downed a belly-full of bitter juice and couldn’t resist breaking into curses. Songshr was terribly afraid of this fiery-tempered grand chamberlain, dared not to voice her rebuffs, and only quietly delivered the medicine and retrieved the bowl. Since early morning on the sixth, Oyghrmuki had been so anxious to his brows seething, tumbled wildly all over the ground, with only a heart to go out to look. Songshr took out the soup bowl from the medicinal basket, dared not to entreat much, and merely drooped her head to say: “Grandpa… had said, you cannot, for this whole half-moon… go down to walk.”

Oyghrmuki waved at her. “No, even if Old Oyghr needs to cripple these legs, I need to go look at Little Syr!” Then his figure suddenly halted, he turned to look at Songshr and exclaimed, “Little girl, you’ve got a tough heart! Today is your intended’s day of coming out of the crater! And you are not hurrying over to tend to him, but wasting your time with me here?”

The girl’s face instantly flushed completely red, her head drooped even lower, but her feet nailed in place. “You… cannot go. Grandpa said no, that… means no.”

Oyghrmuki found her determined and threatened, “How much truth is in your grandpa’s mouth? Only idiots listen to his babbles! If you don’t move aside, Old Oyghr’ll spank your bottom!”

Songshr shook in fright, and the medicinal soups spilled out. She backed two steps towards the curtains, but still refused to let go.

Oyghrmuki caught it all in his eyes, and in truth, felt some respect. Little girl’s all nagging, so annoying! But his mouth said instead, “When you marry Little Syr in the future, Old Oyghr will be the first to block your yurt!”

A deeper shade of red spread over Songshr’s face. She gently passed over the bowl and made no sound.

At twilight, a throng of Ghost Army commanders poured in with ambiguous smirks, squishing Oyghrmuki into painful howls. “My legs! My legs!” wailed Oyghrmuki. The crowd pushed him with forceful kneads. “Let it cripple! Do you know what we saw today?” Oyghrmuki winced and screamed, “What did you see!” The Chen Sicitas Division Commander Barrahu was especially thick with him. He had his entire body squashing over him, chortling: “Who else? The lord commander’s beloved son! The one with him from dawn to dusk, laying and rising together! Today on the new troops’ ceremony, us top and down tens of thousands of people, all saw it!”

“What! Old Oyghr didn’t go for one day, and he actually acknowledged him?” Oyghrmuki cried in astoundment. Barrahu chewed on the candied fruit meant to go with his medicine, and mumbled, “Although he didn’t exactly recognize him with his own lips, but more or less so!” Oyghrmuki shrieked in agony, begged all around, and finally found a kind-hearted person to regale him the events. As he heard, his regrets were immeasurable. The throng watched him slapping chest and stomping feet, turned even more excited, took out his private cache of alcohol, and drank it all up.

~

Autumn winds, like frost, brought along currents of icy cold. Night, Yujien held Flowing Fire in his hand, his single top layer wide open, strutting into the main ger. He heard the guard’s inquiry from the doorway, and a rustling voice. He smiled in his heart and raised his voice: “Let him in. No need to report in the future.”

The vesture door moved, Qu Fongning entered by a tiny step and stopped right by the threshold. Yujien lifted his eyes to look. The set of black military uniform was perfectly tailored, the shoulders and sleeves none not on point, and a stripe of four-fingers wide cowskin belt tightly wrapped around his waist, setting beneath a bronze buckle in front of his left hipbone. The silver Nvquay mask was already removed and tied to his left arm. Black always had an effect of closing in the body; him in this outfit further enhanced the slenderness of his figure, the deep cave of his waistline, the supple fullness of his rear, and two legs as straight as drawn by the lines of ink. And he thus called: “What chu standing by the doorway for?”

Qu Fongning raised his head a bit, peered in his direction, and slowly came up two more steps.

Yujien found his raven hair half wet and asked: “What were you doing just now?”

“Captain Gantu and Captain A’chi said…” Qu Fongning said in a tiny voice, “to celebrate for us, and pressed me into an ice bucket this big, then took a pine torch to roast me.”

Yujien knew the corps had some odd crackdowns for the newbies, found his countenance haggard, and chuckled. “My humble army is loose in management, has you mistreated.” He padded by his side. “Come here.”

Qu Fongning went one step and a stop and walked over, sat down, and spun his head left and right. “Where’s Grand Chamber Oyghrmuki? He isn’t here today?”

Yujien’s patience was spent. He grabbed his belt with one hand and took the person over. “Little Monkey, what’s up with you? Told you to come, and you pretended not to hear, opened your mouth and asked about Grand Chamberlain Oyghrmuki?” With his back to the threshold, he hugged him, his voice dropped as well. “Didn’t miss me?”

Qu Fongning struggled a bit, covering his face with the back of his hand. “No, no! I’m… haven’t seen you in so long, I’m… scared you don’t remember me.”

“Your ass. Saw me just this afternoon!” chided Yujien, pulling his waist towards himself.

Qu Fongning still covered himself. “Afternoon until now, it’s been… a long time.”

Yujien actually stumbled, followed to shake his head and laugh, and regarded his escaping eyes. “It’s been long,” he said, took away his hand, and pressed a deep kiss on his moist, red lips.

Qu Fongning hadn’t been intimate with him for a long time. His body was initially rigid. As the kiss deepened, it gradually reacted, and his hand wrapped his nape. Yujien hadn’t touched his youthful body for a long time, kissed a few times, his crotch was already on fire, and he gradually pushed him onto the felt rug. The pair intertwined in breathing, their body touched, and the two hard matters beneath the military breeches rubbed with each other, grinding ceaselessly. Qu Fongning, gasping low, peered an eye at the vesture door over his shoulder. “Go to the back?” Yujien asked through his kisses. Qu Fongning pursed his mouth without an answer, but his hands wrapped around tighter.

Yujien thus got up, carried him up in his arms, and threw him onto the bed in the sleeping quarter. He followed to step over, yanked off his belt with a single hand, casually unfastened the bronze buckle, and pulled his breeches to the curves of his knees. Even in the midst of passion, Qu Fongning was still impressed. “You’re… so adept.” Yujien curled up his top. “I’ve worn these clothes for over ten years. Da-ge can strip you with his eyes closed.” He only undid the top two buttons of his own breeches, the thick shaft faintly visible through the white underwear. Qu Fongning’s lower half was wide naked, and finding him well-dressed, he became discontent and furtively extended his hand to yank his belt. He nudged and poked several times at his silver ring buckle, but how could he untie it? Yujien laughed and kissed him. “Need to practice more,” he said, and slightly raising his figure, took off his top with two, three tugs. The rich muscular scent of the powerful physique entirely pressed on Qu Fongning, and the pair’s naked skins impressed close together. Yujien kissed him deeply, full of assault, his tongue thrusting in his mouth, and soon his body sweated.

“Spread your legs,” he rasped. Qu Fongning spread his legs obediently, felt him breathing hoarsely, his large hand caressed his rear for length, and many times his thumb probed at his ass. In the end, he only gave a wry laugh, and slid away. He watched Yujien’s handsome, aroused face through his dimmed vision, and called: “Da-ge?” Yujian answered, unbounded his virile member and held it together with Qu Fongning’s in his hand, and stroked them up and down. Qu Fongning found his expression pained. “Da-ge,” he called once more and kissed him out of his initiative. Yujien’s frown relaxed. “Mn. Good Ningning,” he said in a low voice. He kissed his throat and bulge, caressed his sweat-soaked skin from head to tail, and shot out with him one after another.

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