The Ghost Army floggers were well-trained. At these words, two men dashed forth, caught Qu Fongning’s arms left and right, and forced him to the ground; another two brought forth a four-fingers wide, two-joints thick plank, positioned to the two sides and pulled down the offender’s trousers, revealing a very good-looking bum, and poised just about to strike.

The Spring Sun Battalion crowd was just smug and flaunting on the side. On seeing this, none was not horror struck, and at once all dropped their knees to the ground.

Cher Baochi was also startled and hurried up. “Yujien, what are you doing? Your… Captain Qu took great risks to save my son. Brother Ulan is boundlessly grateful. Please sell Brother Ulan this favor and allow your honor’s leniency!” And he shoved at Cher Vei. “If you need to punish, punish this hopeless rascal!”

“Brother Ulan, my army matters are not your concern,” Yujien replied apathetically.

Cher Baochi knew the weight of these words, could only slap his chest and stomp his foot on the side, and again threw glances to Cher Vei, signaling him to go up to beg for appeals.

Even he didn’t dare to speak. How could Cher Vei have the gall to appeal? He knelt in shivers. “Gen…” he pleaded, tremulously; “General, this is all nephew’s fault, Captain Qu… did it all for this nephew…”

“Cher Vei, you are the heir to the Autumn Hunt Army; you do not need to follow my rules,” Yujien interrupted him, raising his right arm, gesturing for the execution to proceed.

The two floggers lifted the planks and started striking in fives and tens. Their grip was also extraordinary, perceivable just from the remarkable sound of each drop; forceful and rhythmic. And from the look, the hits were true as well, seeing blood with every whack, and it only took ten strikes to break Captain Qu’s bottoms to a mush.

Gerrgu’s heart was ripping to shreds. He banged repeated loud kowtows, pleading, “General, even if little brother Fongning has done ten thousand wrongs, his work this time should cover up for them. He really can’t take it anymore. If you need to punish someone, please punish me! I… I’m thick and tough of skin. Better for beatings! I’ve no fear of pain!” And he followed to pull down his pants, showing his hairy ass.

Uighshön’s eyes reddened as well. “The boss hadn’t shut his lids for two days and two nights for this battle. He’s already gravely weak. He’ll be dead with more hits!”

“Violation of military order is inexcusable even in death!” said Yujien, his gaze glacial. He ordered the floggers to pause, and asked, “Captain Qu, what have you to say?”

Qu Fongning’s mask fell on the ground, his raven hair wet in a tussle. He fixed his eyes fatally at him. “Nothing to say,” he croaked.

“Excellent,” said Yujien, nodded, and signaled the two floggers to continue. After counting to sixty, Qu Fongning fainted from the pain. Yet the two slowed not by a slim, struck to square and full eighty, and finally withdrew the poles and retreated. Beneath the flamelight, the just tall and handsome Captain Qu had entirely crumpled and became a blood man.

Cher Vei never had half a flick of guilt with his past plots and frames. Now, as Qu Fongning was suffering this brutal beating because of him, he instead could not reconcile with it on any level. Every drop of the pole was beating him to cower, shrinking smaller and smaller, recoiling further and further, almost afraid of directing his gaze onto the bleeding, broken body.

Cher Baochi appeared awfully regretful. “This is your son, who you always indulged as your heart’s treasure, and you’re really… willing.” He sounded astringent. As he said to the end, his expression suddenly panicked.

“What can’t I spare?” Yujien sneered, pushed on the armrest, and slowly stood up.

The authority in this rise was tenfold than usual. Up and down the entire Ghost Army, none was not intimidated, even the Autumn Hunts troops couldn’t help backing a step.

Qu Fongning was pooling in blood, his fingers bloating bruises, his body convulsing faintly on the snow. Yujien didn’t spare him a proper look, spun himself around, and entered the chief ger.

~

Grandpa Jorrji was rudely awoken from his elderly’s afternoon nap, and blew his beard and glowered of his discontent. Yet as soon as he saw the incomer, his face changed. “What? Did he relapse again?”

“No.” Oyghrmuki grimaced, saying, “it’s our general… augh. Talk after you come up!” Clattering, he extended his arm and took him up the horse. Seeing Songshr packing the medicine chest, he appeared troubled. “You… best if you don’t follow.”

Jorrji sensed the distress, and his heart dropped. He recalled the previous visits to the City of Ghosts, with Oyghrmuki being all smiles and giggles, singing the entire way. Even on Qu Fongning’s first seizure, he only rode by to yell, “Old slick, your good grandson-in-law is dying!” It had been a snowy day, the lord’s ger was bathing in flamelight, and his good grandson-in-law-to-be had curled into a ball, his lips pale, and trembling all over. Jorrji felt his boiling forehead, but his hands were strangely as cold as ice. He truly didn’t know what the cause of the illness was. “I see the way Little Syr is hurting, the cause is either the dental roots or the stomach!” Oyghrmuki supplied his ideas from the side. General Yujien gave him a kick. Qu Fongning instead struggled. “I… my upper abdomen is thrashing with pain, my chest is stuffy, my stomach really hurts… I can’t be sure,” he heaved. Stomach pain was the most common illness in the military, mostly because of irregularity in food intake, and was almost impossible to cure completely. Jorrji prescribed some gentle and nourishing supplements and held his hand, entreating this and that, and listed thousands of dietary restrictions, including every cold, hot, spicy, and sticky thing amongst them. Qu Fongning was already hurting to water surging in his eyes. On hearing this, his tears pooled all the more. “There’re only so few years to live. Can’t eat fat or sweet, can’t fill a cup of fine wine, can’t enjoy anything to the fullest, what’s the point of being alive?” General Yujien scoffed. Qu Fongning’s eyes glittered. “Then I can have iced plum wine again… red jade watermelon? Ice-sugar dried persimmon?” he exclaimed. Yujien brushed his hair, totally an attitude to indulge whatever he pleased. Jorrji felt he was overly coddling. “This illness can be severe or minor. In critical conditions, it can strike at dawn and be dead at dusk. It’s not a joke!” he couldn’t help soliciting Oyghrmuki as he exited the ger. Oyghrmuki consoled him, “General is only talking on his lips, when Little Syr is really hurting, how could he really bear it!”

He spoke with such confidence and Jorrji hence took his word for it. Until the yurt flap at the Spring Sun Battalion finally parted, the old apothecary was truly dumbfounded.

Qu Fongning was bent over the bed on a thread of breath, with not a single patch of good skin beneath his waist and festers harrowing to sight. Jorrji had a look, and it was nearly having someone thrust a knife into his heart. He yanked his shaggy white hair in the madness. “How did he get hurt like this?”

Uncle Hwei sat by his side with his back hunched, his eyes sunken and indescribably gaunt. Hearing him, he silently made a hand sign.

“The general hit him?” exclaimed Jorrji. He went up to examine. Someone had already meticulously removed the foul flesh and plastered on some invigorating and anti-infectious medicine, yet it was still disturbing to view. He promptly threw Oyghrmuki a wild glare, regretting his decision to believe in the villain.

“Don’t look at me! If Old Oyghr had gone with them, how would I have allowed him to beat such a heavy hand! Augh, I blame these hopelessly legs!” Oyghrmuki yammered and pounded hard on his knees, hitting a banging noise.

Qu Fongning heard the shuffle and struggled open his lids, croaking, “Grandpa, Master Oyghr.”

“Little Syr, you’re awake? Does your bum still hurt? Anywhere feeling uncomfortable? What do you want to eat?” Oyghrmuki leaped in, exuberant. He touched his forehead and screamed, “Broiling!”

Qu Fongning, seeming nonchalantly, darted a glance at his back and said weakly, “Can’t open my eyes, my throat… burns.”

Oyghrmuki found his eyes no longer sparkling bright, his heart ached, and howled of his anguish. Jorrji angrily swept him to the side and measured the temperature on Qu Fongning’s forehead, and prescribed several cooling herbs. Oyghrmuki snatched over the prescription and dashed away. Soon, the medicinal soup was sent forth. Qu Fongning took it over for a sip. “Does Songshr Sis know?” he asked. “Don’t… know,” Oyghrmuki mumbled. Qu Fongning nodded faintly and again lifted his eyes. “Grandpa, don’t tell her.” Jorrji found him severely injured and still wanted to care for his granddaughter’s feelings, and his hopes for this match instantly augmented. He hurried to promise, but thought in his heart, “When I get back tonight and let it accidentally slip, Songshr will be very concerned for sure. And then, the two can touch to clean and feed medicine, pass looks and glances on the bed. Wouldn’t that make the little girl’s wish come true!?”

How would Qu Fongning guess his little ideas? He leaned on Uncle Hwei to drink a small half of the medicine, his face wrinkling from the bitterness. “Real nasty drink,” he grumbled.

“I’ll get you two big ice sugars later,” Oyghrmuki said absentmindedly. He stole one glance after another towards the doorway, waiting for a mysterious someone.

“If you are busy, go! You rooting there, reeking of horse, even the yurt stinks!” Jorrji shooed.

“Hey,” Oyghrmuki hooted, and yapped, “what about Old Oyghr? Isn’t it just about not washing armpits for two months? Are you smelling any better? Full of old man smell!” Despite the quibbling, he lifted his arm and sniffed his armpit, and couldn’t help feeling disgusted. Yet he persisted, “In the old days when Old Oyghr followed General campaigning north and south…”

Then came a sudden stir from the outside, and a crowd of juniors ecstatically yelling, “General!” The yurt curtain flapped; Yujien really came striding in.

Oyghrmuki was joyous beside himself and arrowed forth to greet. “Ha, I knew you couldn’t put this off your heart!” he said. He pulled his hand and was going to drag him forward, and threw glances at Qu Fongning at the same time. “Look, the general is here to see you.”

Ever since he entered, Qu Fongning’s face dropped like darkening clouds, the anger in his eyes nearly firing alight. Before he got to the bed, the invalid hurled the medicinal bowl to his feet.

Yujien halted. The eyes beneath the mask regarded him coolly while the black liquids streamed down his leg plates.

Qu Fongning grounded his jaws to return his gaze, the repressed rancor pressuring to steam.

Jorrji felt a blaze scorching his spine. He subconsciously stepped back. And turning to look, Uncle Hwei had already receded to the perimeter of the yurt.

“I heard you wish to repent, and hence personally made this trip here. If you are going to have this attitude, then there’s nothing to talk about,” said Yujien, coolly.

“Who wants to talk to you? I’ve done nothing wrong!” Qu Fongning gave a vehement spat.

“Disrupting order, corrupting discipline, and dead and alive, denying charges. I see the eighty poles are too light. Next time we’ll double it, and see how cheeky you’ll be!” Yujien scoffed.

“Then you better beat me to death!” Qu Fongning uttered resentfully.

“You try again?” said Yujien.

Oyghrmuki saw the dreadful impetus and rushed in to be the peacemaker. “Come on, come on, why are we saying these hurtful things? Little Syr, General didn’t really want to beat you himself, he… was worried about your safety.” And he hollered to the outside. “You’re all blind! Didn’t you see Captain Qu’s medicine toppled? Hurry! Pour another bowl!”

“Slack of command, be a law unto yourself. I, the army’s commander general, need to worry for all thousand and three hundred soldiers of your battalion,” said Yujien, coldly.

Qu Fongning was already on fever, his cheeks had burned red. Hearing these words, his lips fumed snow-white, and blood spilled out of the cracks. “You yourself told me to bring Cher Vei back! It’s because I’m too stupid so I listened to your bullshit! If I’d knew I should’ve let him die!”

Yujien’s brows shifted, seeming to regard him with disbelief. “You don’t understand the weight between military order and personal relationships?”

Qu Fongning drew a heavy gasp. “You mean… it doesn’t matter if he died?” his voice quivered.

“Anyone’s life is inconsequential before military order!” said Yujien, mildly.

A choke caught Qu Fongning’s throat; he started a violent cough. He looked absolutely miserable. Everyone watched with pity. Yujien said nothing, and did nothing.

In that moment, an orderly entered tremulously, bringing the medicine. “Have the medicine first, have the medicine first!” Oyghrmuki persuaded. Jorrji dittoed, and Uncle Hwei also cautiously made a few hand signs.

Qu Fongning coughed to his body all hot, barely struggled up, and took a look at the bowl of medicine. His gaze was so full of hate, looking like if there came another ten bowls, he would smash them all.

“Give it to me,” Yujien suddenly said.

Oyghrmuki rejoiced at once, forthwith snatched over the bowl of medicine, and obligingly delivered it into his hand.

Unknowingly, the moment Yujien had it in his hand, he backhanded a slam.

His strength was as different as the sun to Qu Fongning, the porcelain instantly smashed into smithereens, the medicinal liquid rebounded to high leaps, some even splattered Qu Fongning’s lashes.

Now the world truly fell still, even the sounds of breathing became inaudible.

And they heard Yujien’s slow speech, “Any unjustified absence over three months removes one of their soldier registry and rank. If you want to keep your station as captain, you better put away these childish games.” The shuffle of steel armor, he left without a turn of his head.

In the intense fury, Qu Fongning calmed down instead. He stared at his retreating back, rasping, “You want to remove my rank, slight my name, want me to apologize… I just ain’t going let you have your wish!” He summoned for the medicinal soup, and drank three big bowls in one breath.

And holding on this breath of rancor, his injury gradually healed. By the middle of the Fourth month, he could get down to walk. The ulcers crusted several times, and the colors gradually faded. As the weather turned warm, he had his butt full out for the greater half of the day. Little Ting’yu came to visit several times, handily helping him with the salves, and pulling trivial small talks. Once, as he patted and rubbed, the cotton swab in his hand went for a sudden jab into his rear. Qu Fongning had a full body spasm, whipped his head around and shot him a glare. Little Ting’yu laughed, unable to straighten his back. “I’m joking, don’t be cross,” he said, rubbing the corners of his eyes. “Very fun, eh?” said Qu Fongning, biting his teeth. And he happened to see Jorrji coming in, and immediately tattled, “Grandpa, he’s poking my butt!” Little Ting’yu hurried to raise both hands. “Fine, we’re even now,” he said, laughing. “How are we even? You come here to let me have a poke!” Qu Fongning said angrily. Jorrji smiled from the side, brushing his beard, finding the two pure and adorable. Songshr was busy assembling the herbs outside. Everything looked perfect and peaceful. He almost wished he could spend two more months on the bed.

Cher Vei also came to visit under the charge of his father. Before the crowd, he had his head bent, not saying a word, and only whispered to Qu Fongning when no one was around. “I’d said many bad things about you before, so… sorry. I wasn’t really trying to humiliate you; it was Prince Allonby who doesn’t see you eye-to-eye; we also… couldn’t help it, being in our positions.”

Qu Fongning nodded in empathy. “I understand. Dealing with dragons and phoenixes allows for little freedom.” The two exchanged a knowing glance, shook their hands, and said goodbyes.

By the latter half of the Fourth month, his injuries finally healed. He had lost an order of rank and was now only a centurion team captain. Despite this, the thousands of Spring Sun Battalion soldiers still regarded him as the leader. Some did not participate in Western Liang’s end battle, and thus crowded around him, wanting to hear how he took the heads of the enemy lords amid ten of thousands of men and horses.

Qu Fongning’s lips shifted. “This battle put me out on a pallet for over seventy days. It is, in truth, the most ominous battle of my life. I hope everyone will never mention it again,” he said, and swept a look towards the main ger on the peak, the hatred in his eyes wordlessly clear.

Though he wouldn’t mention it, people were bound to mention it. That very evening, the lord’s pavilion called the summons. And as he grudgingly arrived, he saw the curtains swaying before the sleeping quarters, and Yujien sitting on the enormous, heavy bed. He saw him come, let down the book in his hand, and said, “Come here.”

How would Qu Fongning heed his beckon? He stubbornly stayed by the doorway, silent.

“Come, let’s see whether you’ve healed,” said Yujien, his voice even more gentle.

Qu Fongning stared at the rope tie by the curtain door. “No, I’ll never heal!” he said, stiffly.

Yujien seemed to have laughed. “Little liar is lying again. Didn’t you just ride the horse this afternoon? Having a relapse now that you’ve seen me?” he said, and patted his side, motioning him to come sit.

Qu Fongning refused to move, glared at him, and said, “What do you want?”

“What do I want? Sleep with me, of course,” said Yujien.

Qu Fongning thought his ears had gone bad. This man nearly beat him to death, had not a good word from the beginning to the end, and was now asking him to sleep with him as if nothing happened! For a moment, he felt all the words of the world went pale. He shut his mouth and let out a mocking sneer.

Yujien was unsurprised and leisurely put up his two long legs. “What? Don’t want me as your lover anymore?”

“I’m afraid such a deadly lover is too high above my station,” Qu Fongning replied icily.

“Ningning,” said Yujien; “Da-ge has been with you for over a year. On and off the bed, where haven’t I taken care of you or cherished you? This way you’re speaking to me; aren’t you afraid of hurting my heart?”

Qu Fongning raged, nearly laughing out loud. “Hurting your feelings, hahaha! I was nearly beaten to death, splaying on all fours on a plank for over two months, with low and high fevers burning for over forty days. My feelings aren’t hurt, and I’m hurting your feelings?”

Yujien was still sitting there ever so calmly, his voice falling even gentler: “Ningning, you violated military order, should you be punished? I am your superior, the commanding general of the sixteen corps, who is responsible for all hundred thousand Ghost Army soldiers, and millions of Chienye tribesmen. Moreover, your return from this presumptuous action, well and full, could be said to be largely built on luck. Else if you had a frontal encounter with the remnant Western Liang troops, how would you still be alive? Ask your heart, me punishing you, am I wrong?”

Qu Fongning followed along his words, and actually couldn’t pick out any failings. But his heart felt sickeningly stuffed, as if someone had jammed a large mass of cotton there. He choked for some length before murmuring, “You mean…all this is what you must do as the commander general, and has nothing to do with being a lover. And now that it’s all over, I should joyously climb back onto your bed and do what lovers do, right?”

“If you don’t want to, I shall not force you,” said Yujien, considerately. Then he added with a smile, “Though I want to, very much.”

Qu Fongning was at a loss for words for a good while, and then, seeming angry and helpless, gave a wry laugh. “Sorry, I am a child. I can’t distinguish it so clearly as you do.”

Yujien understandably raised his head. “This is simple. I will point you two paths: one of which, I shall declare to the world that you are my lover, and from now on take you to attend socials together. And if others should have any criticism, I can even marry you with an eight-lift palanquin and the whole orchestral ensemble. But you may never lead men to war or command the thousand armies again in your life.”

Qu Fongning’s breath halted in the instant. An eerie chill slowly creeped up his back, and he couldn’t help a shudder.

“There is another path,” Yujien continued calmly; “which you will continue to be that captain of yours, and from now on, have nothing to do with me. You will risk your life for my conquests and I shall grant you the right due rewards. When you get married and have children, I shall allocate you a piece of land by the Rolling Clouds Mountains, and let you spend the rest of your life in wealth and peace.”

Qu Fongning’s jaws nearly froze. “These are the paths you offer me?” he said tremulously.

“Yeah, which one do you like?” said Yujien. And then he seemed to have signed, and muttered to himself, “I wish you will choose the first one. If you are in front of me every day, I may not be so cruel of heart.”

Qu Fongning’s shoulders shook, shaking as if he was laughing. And he wordlessly turned towards the doorway.

“Ningning, if you lift these curtains, I will assume that you are going to leave me. Then we are done, and from now on, will only have the relationship between superior and subordinate, and no more sentimental involvements. You might want to consider it properly again,” Yujien said slowly from behind him.

Qu Fongning’s chest rose and fell, his breathing quickened, and his hand caught the fur trim of the vesture door, trembling for length. But he could not lift a single fiber.

Yujien’s gaze shifted, revealing a little smile. “Have you decided?”

Qu Fongning closed his fingers, his mouth bit to the smell of blood, and his feet rooted in place like rocks.

Yujien yawned and laid himself on the bed, pillowing on his arm. “Come over once you’ve thought clearly.”

Qu Fongning stayed rigid by the doorway, unaffected, for a long time, before walking over like a puppet, laying down on the spot he used to sleep, with his back to him, sulking in silence.

And he was caught off guard by two arms wrapping in from his back, taking him into an embrace, followed by a laughing voice ringing by his ice-cold ears, “Have your wounds healed?”

“… Healed,” said Qu Fongning, stifling his fumes.

“Good,” Yujien approved, and forced him over, getting on top of him.