The small gathering in the tent allowed Yun Ye to fully integrate into the great feudal family of the Tang Dynasty. Whether it was Zhangsun Chong playing his sword and singing songs, or Li Huairen throwing off his cap and letting his hair down to howl in harmony, it all stirred up his long-dormant passion. The frustration accumulated in his chest made him want to shout loudly, to roar wildly, to gallop madly on horseback.

The beef held between his chopsticks dropped onto his leg, yet he still stuffed the empty chopsticks into his mouth and chewed with relish. He somewhat hated that trace of indifference in his heart.

Once upon a time, he too had possessed passion, had once been filled with righteous fervor. Yet now, hearing that the nation was in danger, he couldn’t muster even a bit of awareness to die for its cause. Could it be that he wasn’t a pure Tang Dynasty person, that he had no such obligation? Once this thought arose, even he himself felt shameless.

The evening party ended amid Old Cheng’s fury. All five people, including Li Chengqian, were thrown into the dungeon. Two days—this was the punishment for Yun Ye and Li Chengqian. Four days was directed at Zhangsun Chong for drinking and singing, Li Huairen for shouting loudly, and Cheng Chumo for wildly swinging his blade and cutting through the tent.

Strangely, Li Chengqian didn’t argue even half a sentence. He cupped his hands in acceptance of the punishment and followed the military law officer to the dungeon. Seeing this, Yun Ye had no choice but to follow Xiao’s rules as Cao did and be obediently led away.

Cheng Chumo and the other two were overjoyed. They hadn’t been beaten, there were no other punishments—just four days of confinement. As if they had gotten some great bargain, they urged the jailer to quickly lock them up, afraid that Cheng Yaojin would change his mind. They completely failed to notice the mocking gleam in Old Cheng’s eyes.

The dungeon was built entirely according to Yun Ye’s design: five paces long, eight paces wide, and no more than one zhang high. Inside there was only one bed, one low table, one jug, one cup, one chamber pot, and a candle stub no more than three inches high. On the upper wall was a ventilation hole half a chi long and wide. Sitting on the bed, one could only hear the sound of one’s own breathing. It was gloomy but not damp—the thick soil layer unique to the Loess Plateau absorbed all excess moisture. A ray of light penetrated through the air hole into the earth prison, with dust dancing in it. This was the only moving thing in the prison, aside from Yun Ye himself, of course.

The jailer closed the cell door without a sound. Yun Ye heard the rattling of iron chains—this was probably the loudest sound he would hear for the next two days. For the next two days, aside from food and water being delivered and the chamber pot being changed through the small opening at the bottom of the door, there would be no other sounds.

Cheng Chumo and the others might not fear physical torture, but mental torment would leave them with lifelong memories. Confined in such a dungeon, one day would be pleasant, two days unbearable, three days would bring collapse, and four days would be worse than death! He hoped they could endure it. Old Cheng was clearly testing the power of the dungeon, using the brothers as experimental subjects.

With both hands behind his head, pillowed on the thin blanket, he stared at the ceiling in a daze. This was an enclosed environment. Apart from himself, there were no outsiders. He didn’t need to wear a mask, didn’t need to pretend to be a youth. The loved ones in his mind could come see him in a queue: his mother’s kindness, his wife’s gentleness, his son’s liveliness—everything appeared before his eyes as if real. Yun Ye knew he could only look, couldn’t reach out to touch, because as soon as he reached out, the beautiful illusion would shatter. What he touched would always be more real than what his eyes saw.

How wonderful—his heart could fly freely, could traverse time and space. The body stripped of its disguise was so light, and his entire being was so transparent and pure. Yun Ye discovered he had fallen in love with this enclosed space. Old Cheng was so understanding—knowing he needed independent space, he gave him such an opportunity. Here, even dreams became real. His wife’s face was like a blooming flower, his elderly mother spoke with gentle laughter, his son—his son was still so worrying. His heart ached like it was being cut by knives, and tears finally flooded heaven and earth.

Two days had passed. Yun Ye had been completely immersed in nostalgia for two full days. Food was brought in and taken away. He neither ate nor drank, neither slept nor rested. His body’s metabolism seemed to have stopped; only his mind churned. Thirty-plus years of past events replayed like a movie, over and over: childhood happiness, the innocence of youth, the beauty of courtship, newlywed sweetness, the joy when his son was born. Just as he was about to relive the sweetness of his newlywed days once more, he heard Old Cheng’s furious voice: “Boy, what are you doing?”

Oh no! Why would Old Cheng be at my wedding? This is a nightmare—I need to chase him away quickly. He’s really killing the mood. Just as he was about to take action, his collar tightened and he was lifted into the air. He sighed: “Uncle Cheng, is time up?”

“Nonsense! If this old man hadn’t come, you would have starved to death, boy.” Old Cheng’s eyes were full of concern. Li Chengqian stood behind Old Cheng with tear-stained face and disheveled hair like wild grass, still sobbing. This child had been badly affected by the confinement.

“These two days have been rarely peaceful. Your nephew couldn’t help but miss his master, recalling some past events that brought both joy and sadness. I became temporarily absorbed in them. Uncle, please don’t blame me.”

“No wonder you were crying and laughing at times, boy. So you were thinking of your master. You still have some filial piety. In a while, go outside, carve a memorial tablet, and offer a few incense sticks. Keep it for several days. When people have something to remember, they won’t think wildly. Keeping things buried in your heart will harm your spirit, which is even more frightening than harming your body, damn it. People have a limited amount of thoughts and tears. The more you use, the less you’ll have later. They’re precious! You’re only fifteen years old. You’ll have plenty to be sad about in the future, so it’s better to use them sparingly now.”

Li Chengqian pointed to the tear stains on his own face, meaning he also needed comfort. This fellow was becoming more and more human—this was the proper state for an eleven-year-old child.

Old Cheng curled his lip: “Yun boy is grieving, but you’re just crying. A real man confined for two days and shedding tears like piss—do you want this old man to wipe them for you?” With that, he turned and walked away.

Li Chengqian’s face flushed red, his mouth open but not knowing what to say. Yun Ye patted his shoulder: “You’re looking for General Cheng to comfort you? Did your head hit a pig?”

Li Chengqian became anxious and pounced on Yun Ye’s back, his hands forcefully strangling his neck. Yun Ye paid no mind and carried him out of the dungeon.

A huge bowl of saozi noodles completely brought Yun Ye back to his senses. Li Chengqian was groaning while holding his stomach—he had eaten too much. Yun Ye provocatively raised his eyebrows at him, meaning he had also eaten a huge bowl. Ignoring Li Chengqian’s boring behavior, hadn’t he noticed Wang Cai kept poking his head into the tent? Two days without seeing him—the horse missed him.

Wang Cai was becoming increasingly humanized, making tulu sounds in his mouth while talking to Yun Ye. No translation needed—Yun Ye understood it all. Nothing more than how these past two days when it hadn’t seen Yun Ye, it thought he had escaped alone to eat and drink well, not taking it along to escape this living hell—really not loyal enough.

Yun Ye solemnly explained to it the reason for his absence these past two days: he hadn’t fled privately but had been confined.

Wang Cai deeply understood the pain of confinement and empathized. It nuzzled Yun Ye with its head, meaning it forgave him, and asked him to brush clean the thick coat it was preparing for winter and get it all neat for the cold season.

One man and one horse communicated joyfully. Yun Ye from time to time told it about the merits and shortcomings of mares, with Wang Cai supplementing completely. They entirely ignored the peculiar gazes cast by people coming and going.

A chubby man wearing leather armor stood to the side, watching the man-horse communication with great interest, both hands resting on his enormous belly, tapping it from time to time.

Yun Ye felt somewhat embarrassed being watched. He had never seen this fat man before. He appeared to be in his thirties, about the same age as Yun Ye before he traversed through the wormhole. His face still carried characteristics inherited from barbarian ancestry: deep-set eyes, eyeballs with a faint yellow tint, a hooked nose both prominent and straight, and a round chubby face wearing a warm, gentle smile.

Seeing that Yun Ye had noticed him, he walked over, patted Wang Cai’s back, and said, “Good horse.” Seeing that this person had an extraordinary bearing, Yun Ye bowed respectfully: “This is a wild horse your junior found on the wilderness. I dare not accept senior’s praise. May I ask senior’s esteemed name?”

“This old man is Zhangsun Wuji.”