A pure silver flask was pressed into Yun Ye’s hands. Under Cheng Chumo’s winking and eye signals, he pulled out the stopper and sniffed—it was wine. Not very strong. Taking a small sip, the wine was rather harsh, about thirty degrees or so. It hadn’t been blended or enhanced with aromatics. The strongest wine in Tang times was nothing more than Triple-Brewed Liquor—fermented three times, the alcohol content could reach over thirty degrees, which was already quite good. The wine was also somewhat cloudy. Never mind that—drink today’s wine today. Lifting the flask, “glug, glug,” two gulps went down his throat. For Yun Ye, who was accustomed to drinking strong highland barley liquor, this was nothing. Cheng Chumo’s face twitched.
“Triple-Brewed Liquor?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Brother Yun is only fourteen or fifteen years old, right?”
“I’m fifteen.”
“Why do you drink strong liquor as if drinking clear water, and instantly name the wine with one taste? At first glance, you’re a fellow connoisseur of the wine realm. Clearly you must regularly drink this wine. Triple-Brewed Liquor comes from the Western Regions and is renowned in Chang’an—its price is quite steep. Common people seek a single mouthful but cannot obtain it. Brother, you must have secretly taken this from my father’s treasured collection. I originally wanted to show off a bit in front of Brother Yun, but unexpectedly Brother Yun drinks it without changing expression and names the wine with one taste—it truly surprises me. Brother, you must also come from a prestigious noble family, right? Why have you fallen into such straits in this desolate place?”
“Brother Cheng flatters me. My younger brother’s affairs are difficult to explain in a few words. Since childhood I was adopted by my honored teacher. According to my teacher, I should be from Chang’an. When he found me, I was still in swaddling clothes. The characters ‘Yun’ were written on the swaddling cloth, so my teacher gave me the name Yun Ye. It was a time of chaos, and there was no way to find my parents, so he took me wandering along great rivers north and south, both banks of the long river. When I was ten years old, my teacher’s health declined, so he built a cottage with me by the river, far from human habitation. This early spring, my teacher passed away. I respected my teacher’s dying wish and cremated his remains, scattering them in the great river. I built a cottage by the river to observe mourning for my teacher. Unexpectedly, a spring flood destroyed the grass cottage where I lived during the night. I desperately climbed ashore and wandered the wilderness for an entire month before encountering Uncle Zhang’s group, which led to this salt extraction matter.”
No helping it—he had to fabricate a complete background. In any case, the Yun clan had lived at Languan since the Sui Dynasty. In the future, he would inevitably have to pay respects to his ancestors. Saying this wasn’t really deceiving him. His own origins were too fantastical to explain—if he told the truth, Cheng would think he was lying, and in a way that lacked any technical sophistication.
“My younger brother’s affairs are better left unsaid. Past events are like smoke, ultimately beyond investigation. To be able to survive in this mortal world is already Heaven’s protection. Today, meeting Brother Cheng, we hit it off—perfect for drinking heartily.” As he spoke, Yun Ye gulped down another large mouthful.
“So you’re saying Brother Yun is now alone with no ties?”
“Precisely. A great man without ties should naturally roam the world freely.” Yun Ye pretended not to see Cheng Chumo’s eager gaze.
“Brother, what do you think of the brothers in my camp?”
“All are warm-hearted, brave, and skilled in battle.”
“Would joining us disgrace Brother Yun?”
“Having just arrived in this mortal realm, to be able to join you brothers—I couldn’t ask for more. I only fear that being a commoner with unclear origins, I might bring trouble to Brother Cheng.”
“Trouble? Brother Yun doesn’t know—we Old Chengs have never feared trouble.” Come to think of it, would the Demon King of Chaos fear trouble?
Ever since Yun Ye agreed last night to join up with the Old Cheng family, his heart hadn’t been at ease. He was truly worried about Cheng Chumo’s character—it felt like boarding a pirate ship. History was written by people. What if the fellow writing history took a biased brush stroke and employed subtle historical judgment techniques—Yun Ye felt he’d die unjustly. They say sons take after fathers. If Old Cheng was also this kind of character, where would he go to seek justice? This was the aftereffect of the wine flask being seized by Cheng Chumo ever since Yun Ye agreed to serve as Cheng Chumo’s campaign secretary.
Yun Ye felt as if he was naturally suited to be a Tang person. Having integrated into the crowd for just one day, he already had a boss and underlings, plus a group of people mixing with him for meals. Living the high life! Past events were truly fading like smoke. Only a vague heartache remained. Life had to continue. Once begun, there must be an ending. This was the worst of times and the best of times.
In the early years of the Zhenguan era, the young Tang Empire faced its most perilous moment. The Turks raided the Central Plains twice. Jingzhou and Wugong were in urgent distress. Jieli Khan advanced directly to the banks of the Wei River. His Majesty Li Er, leveraging the might of Wei Marshal Yuchi Gong who had slain two thousand Turkic cavalry at Jingzhou, traveled light with simple retinue—six riders departing Chang’an—to meet with Jieli at the Wei River. The next day, on the Wei River bridge, he made a covenant with the Turks, killing a white horse to swear an oath. The Turks withdrew their troops.
Yun Ye knew this was His Majesty Li Er’s delaying tactic. Currently, the Great Tang had princes yet unsubdued internally, and the people’s livelihood was difficult. The grain left by the Sui Dynasty had been completely exhausted. Eighteen rebel kings and seventy-two columns of dust—mutual slaughter had reduced the male population to less than one in ten. The population had sharply declined from over seventeen million households to six million four hundred thousand households. The Han people still survived but lacked their former might. Surrounding foreign tribes were restlessly stirring. The Turks raided the borders ceaselessly. Tuyuhun also wanted to fish in troubled waters. Songtsen Gampo of Tubo had also grown to adulthood and begun his own conquests. Silla and Goguryeo coveted the northeastern plains even more.
Looking through the long river of history, great monarchs who illuminated the ages all killed their way out from thorny paths. Now, His Majesty Li Er retracted his claws, curled up his body, licked clean the blood from his wounds, and waited for the moment to soar nine heavens high.
Yun Ye knew the Tang Dynasty’s glory would inevitably illuminate the ages. Thinking of these things, Yun Ye would tremble with excitement. He would coldly watch the final performance of these clowns from the sidelines.
In Cheng Chumo’s eyes, His Majesty of the Great Tang was a wise, magnanimous, valiant, and enlightened ideal leader. In Yun Ye’s eyes, His Majesty Li Er was a black-bellied man shrouded in countless halos. Cheng Chumo was happy and proud. Yun Ye was in pain—the higher a leader’s intelligence, the harder to fool. Thinking about associating with so many exceptional people, Yun Ye felt his future was utterly dark, unable to see his hand before his face.
The entire camp was now under Yun Ye’s control. He was the campaign secretary—he was the highest authority in the logistics battalion. He struggled to push away the thick leg pressing on his neck. No wonder he’d had nightmares all night. Cheng Chumo continued sleeping with snores like thunder.
The Chinese people were hardworking and kind—Yun Ye never doubted this. Look at these fellows—they’d been working since daybreak until now. Their muscular arms, solid as porcelain, were tanned ancient bronze by the sunlight, like copper statues, looking a hundred times better than those deliberately tanned in later generations. This made Yun Ye afraid to take off his clothes. Compared to them, only his limbs showed the effects of sun exposure. Other parts remained fair—like a panda.
He went up to help with the work but was urged back by a group of people, repeatedly saying: “Secretary, please sit peacefully. How could we trouble you with such rough work? We will certainly arrange everything perfectly.”
Being urged back was fine. A secretary wasn’t meant to do work, big or small. In any case, secretaries in later generations rarely did any work either. Moreover, they were working with fierce efficiency. The assembly line method he’d explained yesterday was proceeding very smoothly. Nothing to criticize.
Cheng Chumo woke up, rubbing his waist as he walked out of the tent, asking Yun Ye why drinking would make his waist hurt. Of course Yun Ye wouldn’t tell him it was because he’d kicked him. Nonsense—anyone who had someone’s foot shoved in their mouth would fly into a rage.
He called Zhang Cheng over to bring him a bow and arrows, planning to go hunting. Ever since witnessing bows and arrows last night, he’d become wildly enthusiastic about this mainstay weapon of the cold weapon era. Haven’t you heard storytellers say: left hand pushes the full moon, right hand cradles an infant, two fingers release, and you only hear the enemy general’s scream of agony…
Yun Ye drooled over Cheng Chumo’s treasured bow, but unfortunately no matter how much he pulled left and right, he couldn’t draw it open. Apparently it was a three-stone bow. The finest craftsmen had spent three years making it, worth three hundred strings of cash—equivalent to six hundred thousand yuan in renminbi. Good heavens, you could buy back a BMW car. Here it was only worth a broken bow. By the way, Yun Ye liked this bow’s value.
At this moment, Yun Ye was completely immersed in the beautiful dream of wielding an AK-47 and sweeping across the world. Thinking “AK in hand, the world is mine,” he couldn’t help grinning. Beside him, Cheng Chumo and Zhang Cheng unconsciously took a lateral step, distancing themselves far from Yun Ye. The two women, however, looked at him with maternal compassion, thinking he was having an episode.
Ignoring these low-quality people, he drove away Zhang Cheng and took Wang Cai and the two women into the forest to gather wild scallions. Cheng Chumo, seeing that Yun Ye couldn’t even draw the softest bow, wore a face full of contempt as he took a few personal guards into the forest to hunt, saying he wouldn’t bring children and women—considered them unlucky.
Undeveloped land was a huge treasure trove. The wild scallions grew plump and tender—pull up a large handful at once. This was a delicacy! Spread it on dough and fry it in oil—the fragrant scallion pancakes made one’s mouth water just thinking about them. Such good luck—they even encountered Sichuan pepper trees. Although still green, there was no problem using them as seasoning. The women picked for half a day and only gathered a handful—the things were covered with thorns. Wang Cai ate a mouthful and drool flowed from his mouth—probably numbed. Too troublesome. In a fit of determination, he chopped down even the tree and dragged it back. They also gathered two large baskets of wild vegetables before returning to camp.
He was teaching the women to scald dough, planning to make unleavened flatbreads, when Cheng Chumo returned. Three wild sheep had been killed by him. Looking at one of them, its curved and coiled horns covered with bumpy protrusions, he knew the lead ram hadn’t escaped. The ancients spoke of Butcher Ding dismembering an ox—he’d never witnessed such skill, but Zhang Cheng used a half-foot-long knife, and in an instant, the three sheep became chunks of meat large and small that could go straight into the pot. Yun Ye watched dumbstruck.
Yun Ye decided to use the hand-grabbed meat method. He didn’t wash the sheep—threw them directly into the pot with blood and all to boil. Once the water boiled, the entire pot of water was dumped and fresh water added to boil again. A handful of wild scallions, a handful of Sichuan pepper—done. When serving, add another handful of salt. This was a delicacy of the mortal realm.
The two women had diligently served for two days and couldn’t be treated poorly. He called them over and inquired carefully. Only then did he learn one was Zhang Wang Shi, the other Liu He Shi. They had no personal names. In the war-torn era, displaced and homeless, they were assigned by the authorities as wives to soldiers Zhang and Liu. Being official assignments, there was no choice. This time they were traveling to Black Wind Pass to reunite with their husbands.
Among military soldiers, comradeship was like brotherhood. Once officially assigned, she was a brother’s wife—no one else would harbor ideas. If anyone had bad intentions, it was absolutely the greatest taboo in the military. From top to bottom, not one person would spare the fellow with evil designs. It seemed His Majesty Li Er, to increase the population, would stop at nothing.
To give the two women a skill to rely on, Yun Ye decided to teach them how to make mutton fat scallion pancakes: “Two elder sisters, you’ve worked hard these two days. Yun Ye is endlessly grateful for your care. I have a small skill here—though it won’t bring great wealth and nobility, it can provide food and clothing without worry. In the future, you could open a small shop—it would be a way to make a living. I wonder if the two elder sisters would be willing to learn?”