Chapter Eighty-Three: Horseback Riding

When they reached the open space in front of the residence gates, six warriors from the Commandant’s Office were already waiting. What puzzled Qi Jun was that none of them wore their helmets or armor; instead, each was dressed as a Rouran herdsman.

“Captain Qin, this young master has been sent by the Commandant himself. On your journey, you are to follow his orders. I wish you all a triumphant return on behalf of the master,” the old servant said, cupping his hands in the martial greeting toward the leading warrior.

“We will not fail,” the warrior replied in kind, then turned to Qi Jun. With a mocking glint in his eyes, he sneered, “This young master looks pale and frail. On the battlefield, blades know no mercy—best be careful.”

“Please keep this for me,” Qi Jun replied with a slight smile, removing his long robe, folding it, and handing it to the old servant. Turning to the warrior, he said, “Since you’re all dressed like this, I can hardly go along in such attire, can I?”

The warrior paused, then grinned and waved to the soldiers behind him. “Give him a set of clothes. I’d like to see what this pampered young lord is capable of.”

A bundle of clothing, similar to what the warriors wore, was tossed at Qi Jun’s feet. Seeing the disdain in the warrior’s eyes, Qi Jun understood at once—they clearly thought he was just another privileged youth hoping to pick up some easy military merit.

Qi Jun said nothing. He stooped, dusted off the clothes, and put them on. Apart from the coarse furs making his skin itch a little, the outfit fit him well enough.

“Let’s move!” the warrior called, casting Qi Jun a glance before leading the group out of the courtyard.

Seven warhorses were prepared outside the gate. The six warriors mounted skillfully and spurred their horses forward, galloping toward the city outskirts without waiting for Qi Jun.

By the time Qi Jun emerged and swung himself onto his horse, he could only see the six of them disappearing in a cloud of dust. He sighed helplessly, nervousness rising within him. This warhorse was much taller and stronger than any camel he’d ridden before; as he tugged the reins, the horse snorted and pawed the ground, steam curling from its nostrils.

“Heeyah!” Qi Jun mustered his courage and squeezed his legs gently against the horse’s flanks. With a shrill whinny, the animal reared and surged forward. If not for his tight grip on the reins, Qi Jun might have been thrown off right then.

“Easy there, my fine steed… Just follow those ahead, and don’t throw me off, all right?” Qi Jun muttered, pressing close to the horse’s neck, not caring whether the animal understood—he just hoped to reach their destination quickly.

They soon passed through the western gate of Ding’an Commandery, thundering along the official road.

“Brother Qin, shouldn’t we slow down and wait a bit…” one of the warriors called, glancing back and seeing no sign of Qi Jun.

“These rich boys are just here for show. Do you really think he’s coming to fight with us?” the lead warrior snorted, not even looking back as he cracked his whip and urged his horse faster.

Qi Jun’s awkward posture atop the horse drew laughter and pointing from countless passersby, but he paid them no heed. Instead, the warriors’ contempt only ignited a stubborn fire within him.

Just riding a horse, is it? I’ll show you yet.

He steadied his breathing, gripped the reins, and did his best to sit upright, eyes fixed ahead, striving to balance himself. He’d always meant to learn to ride—now, with no choice, he was forced to adapt on the spot. As he adjusted his posture, he found himself improving quickly.

Between Daliang and the Qiang tribes, constant warfare had created a barren no-man’s land, a desolate belt that, from the sky, looked like a natural border dividing the two realms.

By now, the six warriors were galloping across this wasteland, the city walls of Ding’an mere distant outlines behind them.

“Big brother, that kid’s catching up!” As they neared the Qiang border, a warrior glanced back and cried out in surprise.

The lead warrior hesitated, then looked back himself. Sure enough, a solitary black dot was trailing them on the distant horizon.

“Brothers! Faster!” he barked, lashing his horse. The animal bolted forward with a pained whinny.

“But the Commandant said…” one of the warriors began, glancing at the black speck behind them.

“Even if he catches up, do you expect him to draw a blade? He probably hasn’t even killed a chicken!” The leader’s words drew raucous laughter from the others, who all turned to sneer at their pursuer.

Qi Jun couldn’t hear their words, but he didn’t have to—he could imagine well enough what these soldiers thought of him. What common ground did a scholar have with soldiers? As the saying goes, when a scholar meets a soldier, reason is lost.

Yet Qi Jun was both scholar and soldier.

He lashed his horse harder, gritting his teeth against the jarring jolts, doggedly pursuing the six figures ahead. With each strike of the whip, the black dots grew clearer.

“This fellow’s got some grit!” one of the warriors exclaimed, looking back in genuine surprise.

The lead warrior suddenly yanked his reins, bringing his horse to a halt—not out of any newfound respect for Qi Jun, but because they had reached the Qiang border; any further, and they risked discovery by enemy scouts.

Qi Jun saw them stop from afar and seized the chance to close the distance.

The six warriors dismounted, sitting in a circle on the ground to eat their dry rations and discuss their plan of action.

Qi Jun finally reached them, dismounting with difficulty and sitting down, kneading his numb, aching legs.

One of the warriors tossed him a waterskin, but just as he was about to throw him a flatbread as well, Captain Qin stopped him with a look.

“Don’t waste good supplies—he might not live to see the night,” Captain Qin sneered, nodding toward a cliff ahead. “We’ll camp there tonight. Once the sun sets, we move.”

“Captain Qin, what’s the plan for tonight’s operation?” Qi Jun asked, taking a few swallows of water and feeling his fatigue ebb away.

“Heh, a plan? You don’t need to know. Just find a safe spot to hide, and wait to be promoted and rewarded when we return,” Qin replied, standing and summoning the others. They all mounted and rode off toward the cliff.

The others glanced at Qi Jun with complex expressions before following suit.

Qi Jun shook his head. He’d felt the sting of isolation before—back in boot camp, when he was just a new recruit. Being looked down on by these warriors didn’t bother him much; what worried him was Captain Qin’s recklessness in enemy territory, which could cost them all their lives.

He knew full well that while the cliff they’d chosen for camp offered wide views and natural defenses on three sides, if their retreat was cut off, they’d be trapped with no hope of escape.

“Well, I wish you all luck,” Qi Jun said, stretching his limbs. With a glance at the sun sinking in the west, he took his horse and headed in another direction.