Wang Cai was very unaccustomed to having a saddle on his back. He always wanted to get that thing off, but with the bit in his mouth and the bridle on his head, the complete set of tack bound him tightly, unable to perform his usual habitual movements. He could only continuously nudge Yun Ye with his head, hoping the boss would mercifully untie these things and restore his freedom.

Yun Ye at this time could barely protect himself. With one command from the Grand General, he had no choice but to set out for the Left Martial Guard great camp. Cheng Chumo gave Yun Ye the armor he used to wear. Although still somewhat large, it was much better than standard-issue armor. Walking made his whole body clang and rattle, like a dog wearing a bell—don’t even mention how awkward it was. Forget about the poor appearance—this set of armor, not counting the helmet, already weighed thirty jin. Add the horizontal sword at his waist and bow and arrows on his back, Yun Ye felt like a mobile battle fortress. Yun Ye believed that wearing this armor, never mind cutting people down, being able to avoid getting cut down by others would already be good.

Cheng Chumo kept apologizing. Having his brother wear his old armor really damaged face. The military was crude—just make do. Once back in Chang’an, he’d definitely forge an eighty-jin heavy armor set for Yun Ye. Zhang Cheng and the others drooled with envy, believing such armor befitted the campaign secretary’s status. After speaking, they even fiercely retightened Yun Ye’s armor-binding silk sash. This squeezed out even the last breath from his lungs. Yun Ye’s face turned red as he desperately loosened his belt—only then did he save his life. Having finally caught his breath evenly, he asked Cheng Chumo: “Little brother is a civil official—why bind armor?”

“Where’s the talk of civil officials in the military? Even if His Majesty is in the military, doesn’t he also have to don helmet and armor? You want to eat military rod punishment? Go see the Grand General in plain clothes?”

Hearing Cheng Chumo talk about getting military rod punishment—with his robust physique, taking ten strikes meant lying down for two days. Looking at his own thin arms and legs, wouldn’t they break? Take advice and eat your fill—this discomfort was still better than military rod punishment. Walking a few steps straight-backed, it wasn’t so uncomfortable after all. It seemed roads were walked by people, people were forced by circumstances.

Hugging Wang Cai, the two brothers mutually complained for a while before Zhang Cheng lifted him onto another docile mare. Wang Cai hadn’t fully grown yet and couldn’t be ridden—just letting him get familiar with the tack to facilitate future riding.

Coming together with Cheng Chumo was also a registrar to take over Yun Ye’s position continuing salt production. Grand General Cheng wouldn’t rest until he used up every bit of the Emperor’s decree. Seeing the sun hadn’t yet passed noon, Cheng Chumo began urging departure. Borrowing ten strings of cash from Cheng Chumo, he gave them to the two women as thanks. Amid the two women’s crying, he bid farewell to the logistics battalion soldiers he’d spent over a month with. Wang Cai carried the backpack, the plump mare carried Yun Ye, galloping toward the Lanzhou great camp.

Sixty li of road—neither far nor near. Cheng Chumo on a flying horse could make a round trip in one shichen. Now he could only trot—even so, it had already jolted Yun Ye until his five internal organs and six bowels were about to vomit out.

The damned saddle was too hard, rubbing Yun Ye’s thighs like they were on fire. He carefully lifted his body, trying to minimize contact with the saddle. That fellow Cheng Chumo rode front and back, freely displaying his peerless horsemanship. Yun Ye really missed his second-hand Santana.

The road was finally completed. The great camp was already in sight. Scouts and messengers galloping back and forth came in endless succession. From time to time deep, resonant horn sounds rang out. On the arrow towers, sturdy crossbow bolts gleamed with cold light. A huge banner with the character “Cheng” flew high, appearing very arrogant.

Cheng Chumo announced his name and verified his token before passing through the camp gate and heading straight for the commander’s tent.

Before seeing Old Cheng, various legends of the Demon King of Chaos kept scrambling through his mind. Fierce-tempered as fire, despicably cunning—which of these two personalities was his true face?

Before Yun Ye could sort out a clue, a burst of hearty laughter came from the commander’s tent. Immediately after, a man over forty years old appeared at the great tent entrance. His clear, profound gaze already fixed on Yun Ye: “Good lad! Young in years yet resolving our great army’s crisis. A great master’s disciple—reputation well deserved!”

Yun Ye lowered his head, avoiding the blade-sharp gaze, bowing respectfully: “This official Yun Ye pays respects to the Grand General.”

“Good, good! Good that you’ve come. Hearing Chou’er speak of worthy nephew’s various abilities, I still didn’t believe it. Seeing you today, indeed extraordinary. My military camp has gained another talented youth—congratulations are in order!”

This had already become “worthy nephew”—he as uncle could only hold his nose and accept it.

“Little nephew got along very happily with Chumo and long wished to pay respects to uncle, but the salt-making matter concerned the great army’s safety and I dared not slack off. Delayed until today before paying respects—little nephew was discourteous. Please forgive me, uncle.”

“Ha, ha! You have merit in making salt—how could I blame you? I most love seeing younger generation lads establish merit and achievements. You and Chou’er should mutually encourage and progress together. Come, come, let me take a good look at this outstanding youth.”

Only then did Yun Ye climb up from the ground, standing bent beside Cheng Chumo, but Old Cheng grabbed him and brought him into the commander’s tent. Guards had already set out tables inside the tent. The dishes still steamed—not many, just four items. Three dishes and one soup! Had the Tang Dynasty already established this custom? Seeing Yun Ye look at the dishes, Old Cheng assumed young people got hungry fast and didn’t think Yun Ye discourteous. He only felt this youngster was neither servile nor overbearing, genuine in nature. He regarded his body full of killing intent as nothing—his favorable impression increased even more.

“Know you youngster have a good palate. Taste whether military camp dishes suit your taste.”

“Uncle bestows food—how dare little nephew not respect it? Just now I remembered my honored teacher treating little nephew was also like this. Every mealtime was also this appearance. Thank you, uncle.”

Cheng Yaojin gave Yun Ye too much pressure. The chainsaw-like gaze just now was already unbearable. How dare he engage in verbal sparring with such a shrewd person? Don’t look at how Old Cheng’s mouth didn’t mention Yun Ye’s origins—his eyes were full of probing intent. Forget it, don’t wait for him to ask—broach the topic first.

“What kind of great master was your honored teacher? That I, Old Cheng, couldn’t meet him once—truly a regret.”

“My teacher styled himself Free and Unfettered Master. He never told little nephew his own name, only saying a name was merely a designation—what difference did knowing or not knowing make? He never dealt with outsiders, only saying worldly people were foolish. Associating with them long enough, one would also contract the stupid disease. So until my teacher passed away, this unfilial nephew never learned my teacher’s name.”

“Great masters act in such unfathomable ways. It seems we who mix in the red dust, our spiritual wisdom was long ago blackened by the mortal world’s filth.”

It could be seen Cheng Yaojin was somewhat melancholy. He came from an official family, married into a prominent household, and held military command authority. The riches and honors of the mortal world reached the extreme. What exactly was he pursuing? He himself probably wasn’t too clear.

Yun Ye’s words at first hearing seemed very reasonable. Great masters speaking should be like this—cloud-covered and fog-shrouded, striking down a large group of people, highlighting that he alone was sober while all others were drunk in a transcendent state.

Don’t mention it—this kind of talk was tried and true on geniuses with intelligence over two hundred. Smart people thought too much, thought too deeply. The loopholes in your language they could fill in for you, making it perfect and flawless.

Back in the day, Yun Ye lodged at a rural home outside Tianshui. Twelve days’ lodging cost one thousand yuan, not including meals. The house was dilapidated, rats ran rampant at night. Three meals daily consisted mainly of fermented water noodles, yet the charges were extraordinarily expensive. After the moon reached mid-sky, his belly rumbled with hunger, yet he didn’t consider it suffering. He extensively discussed the five thousand years of history with the white-haired landlord, broadly debating England, America, Germany, France, and the Soviet Union. Every time hearing marvelous theories, he was shocked—a divine person! There were hermit sages in the wilderness! He wanted nothing more than to bow and take him as master.

The old landlord felt all over Yun Ye’s bone structure and asserted that within ten years, there must be a time of great brilliance. Hearing this, Yun Ye choked up speechless, pouring out all the renminbi in his bag to reward the elder. His feeling of meeting too late overflowed in his expression. Unexpectedly the next day, all the villagers arrived together in a group. Hoes and dung forks came smashing down on his head, declaring they’d beat to death this shameless old swindler. Even rabbits don’t eat grass near their burrows—this old bastard specialized in swindling acquaintances, deceiving local relatives and friends. Truly unworthy to be called human!

The elder fled over the wall, his movements quite nimble. The villagers pursued closely, leaving only Yun Ye in the garden dumbstruck. The power of example was limitless. From then on, when Yun Ye conversed with clever people, he became like this.

Old Cheng was after all a shrewd person of the martial world. After brief confusion, his eyes became clear again. A hardened man who had crossed through corpse mountains and blood seas—his will was already solid as rock. How could these few words shake his mind? His eyeballs turned and anger arose.

Taking two steps to Yun Ye’s front, he grabbed Yun Ye and laid him across his legs, raising his cattail-fan-sized giant palm—smack, smack—a stinking beating. While beating he lectured: “This slap is for disrespecting teachers and elders. This slap is for bewitching me. This slap is for arrogant discourtesy. This slap is for—what was it? Never mind, just seeing you like this makes me want to beat you.”

After a few slaps, Yun Ye felt his buttocks weren’t his own. He quickly begged for mercy: “Uncle Cheng spare my life! Little nephew will never dare again!”

“Heh heh, youngster, playing mind games before me is seeking death.” After speaking, he glanced sideways at Yun Ye, swaggered back behind the table and sat down, burying his head in eating on his own.

Yun Ye didn’t know why, but tears and snot had all been beaten out by the old fellow. A person approaching forty couldn’t possibly lack responsibility like this. It seemed psychological maturity didn’t represent physical maturity. Tears and snot were probably the body’s protective mechanism, not controlled by the brain. Rubbing his numb buttocks, his heart was full of mixed regret. Why fool the old fellow for no reason? Wasn’t this asking for trouble?

Slowly shuffling to Old Cheng’s side, very obsequiously serving Old Cheng food. Old Cheng was a straightforward person—whatever you served him, he ate. It seemed the old fellow had forgiven him.

Yun Ye hemmed and hawed for a long time but couldn’t speak. He wasn’t that old swindler who, when his lies were exposed, could still speak eloquently with unchanged expression.

Old Cheng looked at him disdainfully: “If you have something to say, say it. I’m still waiting for you to continue spinning tales for me.”

“Uncle Cheng please forgive me. What I did just now was also one of my honored teacher’s taught lessons. Little nephew, first arriving at the battle formation, seeing Uncle Cheng imposing and overwhelming with killing intent, carelessly used uncle as an experiment. Unfortunately, lacking in learned skills, I was seen through by you. This beating wasn’t unjust—purely brought on by little nephew himself. Please don’t be angry, uncle.”

“Oh? A lesson?”

“Yes!”

“What exactly did that teacher of yours teach you? How is bewitching people’s minds and spouting nonsense also a lesson?”

“Precisely. My honored teacher believed everything in the world could be measured, including speech. What kind of occasion, what kind of words to speak, what kind of tone to use, coordinated with what kind of actions, how to persuade others, how to make people produce a sense of trust, how to phrase sentences to make people produce a sense of distance, what kind of expression with what kind of action to make people produce a sense of dignity, and so on…”

Yun Ye had indeed read the book “An Actor’s Training.”