By early morning, the sky had brightened. A thick layer of snow blanketed the osmanthus tree in the courtyard, and the water jar had frozen over with a heavy sheet of ice.
The sleet from yesterday had begun as rain, but before long the rain stopped and the snow kept falling. In the span of a single night, every house in the town had put on a white winter coat.
When Duan Yan judged the time right, he went to the kitchen and heated more water. He called for An Ge'er to carry the hot water into the room and attend to Young Master Song as he rose and washed. Once the water on the stove came to a boil, Duan Yan dropped in the noodles he had prepared.
When the noodles were cooked, he scooped them out together with fresh, tender greens, poured over them the sour fish broth he had stewed before dawn, and carried the bowl into Song Fengsui’s room.
The person inside had actually been awake for quite some time. He had awakened from a dream earlier and had been unable to fall asleep again, so he had curled up in bed and quietly waited for daybreak.
“Oh my, the charcoal must have been burning too hot last night. Look, Young Master, your face is all damp with sweat.”
An Ge’er pushed aside the bed curtains with Song Fengsui and was startled when he saw him.
Song Fengsui slowly sat up. He had clearly only been dreaming, yet his hands and feet felt weak and limp, as though he had truly lived through the experience.
“Take the wash water to the inner washroom for me, and bring out a clean set of sleeping clothes.”
“Does Young Master wish to bathe?”
“There’s hot water on the stove,” An Ge’er said. “This basin is only for washing your face and hands, so it won’t be enough. I’ll go fetch more water for you.”
Song Fengsui could hardly let her do that. Especially since she would have to fetch it from the main kitchen—wouldn’t that let the entire household know he wanted to bathe first thing in the morning? If it had only been the kitchen in his own courtyard, that would have been another matter.
“There’s no need for all that trouble. I’ll just wipe myself down. It looks bright outside, but snow is still falling and the weather is cold. There’s no need to go through the trouble of bathing at this hour.”
An Ge’er followed his wishes. Song Fengsui climbed out of bed and hurried into the washroom.
He had no time to worry about how cold it was inside. He quickly removed his clothes and trousers and used a wrung-out cloth to carefully wipe his legs. When he had awakened before dawn, the stickiness had been uncomfortable. He had dealt with it as best he could with a cloth, but without water, he had always felt he had not cleaned himself properly.
Only after wiping himself down did he finally feel refreshed.
He tidied himself up and changed into the clean sleeping clothes. Then he slowly stepped out of the washroom. As soon as he entered the sleeping chamber, he saw that the person who had brought breakfast had already arrived. His face flushed involuntarily, but he pretended nothing was amiss and walked over.
Duan Yan noticed that his fair face was an unusual color. After hearing An Ge’er say that he had sweated heavily upon waking, he hurriedly reached out to touch his forehead, afraid that Song Fengsui had caught a chill after coming over from the Song residence in the cold of night.
Fortunately, his skin was not feverishly hot, and Duan Yan let out a quiet breath of relief.
“Why didn’t you sleep well last night?”
Song Fengsui blushed and picked up his chopsticks to eat the noodles. The tangy, fragrant noodles warmed his stomach, and some color returned to his face.
He murmured, “I had a dream.”
Duan Yan’s brows shifted slightly. “A nightmare?”
“Not exactly.”
Song Fengsui lifted his eyes to glance at him, his expression faintly aggrieved.
“It was your fault.”
Duan Yan froze for a moment. He could be somewhat wooden at times and was not particularly good at guessing a little gentleman’s thoughts, but given the embarrassing incident of the previous night, he could more or less guess what had happened.
He coughed lightly. Sure enough, he had left the poor man with some unpleasant memories.
Duan Yan gently patted his back and coaxed, “It was only a dream. Don’t worry about it.”
Song Fengsui thought, If it’s nothing to worry about, does that mean there will never be a real moment like that in the future?
If it were anything like the dream, his whole body tensed at the thought. He might end up wanting to avoid it altogether in the future.
Seeing that Song Fengsui’s complexion still did not look quite right, Duan Yan could not help feeling concerned. He asked tentatively, “Did I treat you badly in the dream?”
Song Fengsui actually thought about it seriously. If one said Duan Yan had treated him badly, that would not be true. Duan Yan had always been considerate of his feelings, and in the dream, he had been the same.
Perhaps it was precisely because Duan Yan had always treated him with respect and care that, even in a dream, he had not differed much from the man in reality.
It was simply that some things were not within Duan Yan’s control.
Whether a person grew tall or short, whether his arms were long or short—none of that was something he could decide for himself.
Perhaps because he had not slept well, Song Fengsui’s mind was in a muddle. He should never have mentioned the dream in the first place. Talking about such a dream first thing in the morning—and a lewd dream at that—what would that look like?
Duan Yan was such a blockhead, and a rigid old blockhead at that. What if he decided Song Fengsui was shameless?
But whenever he felt even a little aggrieved, he could not help wanting to pour out his troubles to Duan Yan at once.
He prodded at the noodles in his bowl, then finally repeated Duan Yan’s words.
“It was only a dream. It’s nothing.”
Duan Yan’s brows drew together. He still did not know exactly what Song Fengsui had dreamed about, but the other’s conflicted expression made him feel that it must not have been anything good.
He wanted to comfort him further, yet did not know where to begin. He certainly could not promise that he would never touch him. There was no point making promises he could not keep; saying nothing was better than making empty assurances.
Once they were properly married, they would still have to conduct themselves as husband and wife according to propriety, after all.
Before he could think of the right words, a slender hand reached over and touched his waist and abdomen.
A pair of beautiful eyes stared directly at his body.
“Have you been tired from training the troops lately?”
Duan Yan did not understand what this had to do with anything, but he answered all the same. “I don’t feel tired.”
Song Fengsui blinked. “Then why do I feel as though you’ve gotten thinner?”
“I haven’t gotten thinner. I’ve been training hard these past few days, so the flesh I put on from drinking and eating meat has simply firmed up again.”
The original owner had once been a blacksmith, so his physical foundation had not been poor. It was only that, as the family business had grown—from a single iron shop to several farmsteads—Tie Da and Tie Er had taken over most of the smithing. He had fewer opportunities to work with his own hands, and he often spent his time drinking and enjoying himself. Naturally, his body was not as strong as it had been at seventeen or eighteen.
But he still had a good foundation, and at his young age, it was easy to regain his former condition with proper training.
“Is that so?”
Song Fengsui put on a doubtful expression and took the opportunity to touch him a few more times.
The solid muscles were warm beneath his fingers, and the strength lying dormant beneath the skin made his palms grow hot.
Song Fengsui thought Duan Yan looked even better than he had in the heat of summer. He had already entertained a few improper thoughts when he saw him at the training ground yesterday, planning to take a good look at him once he came home. Who could have guessed that he would truly get the chance to see Duan Yan without a stitch of clothing—only to lose his nerve when the opportunity presented itself?
Duan Yan watched the way Song Fengsui’s face affected an air of solemnity, as though he were examining a patient, but his wandering hand betrayed him completely.
What physician examined a patient—or checked whether someone had lost weight—with his hands moving like that?
Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, a straight back like a pine tree—such a physique was certainly pleasing to the eye. Duan Yan was not vain, but he possessed ordinary aesthetic appreciation.
Just as his mind had gone blank the first time he saw Song Fengsui, unable to believe that someone could truly be born so beautiful.
Seeing through the little gentleman’s intentions, Duan Yan gently caught his hand and guided it across his chest, shoulders, and back, allowing him to examine him thoroughly. He cooperated with the performance and asked,
“Well? Have I not gotten thinner? I’ve only become more solid.”
Song Fengsui rarely felt embarrassed, and slowly withdrew his hand. “It’s good that you haven’t worn yourself out and lost weight.”
Duan Yan let out a faint breath of stale air. Fortunately, the man hadn’t gotten thinner after all—otherwise, there would have been no excuse to keep touching him.
After breakfast, Song Fengsui told Duan Yan about Grandfather Song’s plans to establish a private school. Duan Yan thought it was a fine idea as well. In the past, after the Song family had been punished and disgraced, they naturally could not have opened a private school or taught students. But now the world outside was in chaos, and the dynasty itself seemed unable to survive. Laws and regulations no longer carried much weight. As long as they shut their doors, they could do whatever they wished.
They first went to tell Mr. Bai about it and ask whether he was willing to send Young Master Bai to study at the Song residence.
How could Mr. Bai possibly refuse? If the world outside had still been peaceful, he might have hesitated because of the Song family’s status as “criminal officials.” But as they kept saying, if the world had not fallen into disorder, how could they have received such good fortune and found a Grand Academician willing to teach their child?
The Qin family was so delighted that they nearly wanted to burn incense and bow in worship. They even took Song Fengsui by the hand and thanked him profusely.
“If you truly want to thank me, then I’ll have to trouble you to make a couple of trips for me.”
“My dear brother, don’t say it’s only two trips. I’d be willing to run errands for you for two whole years. For Old Master Song to agree to teach my foolish boy is truly a blessing that comes only once in several generations. We never had such an opportunity even when we lived in the prefectural city, yet now we’ve actually gained a blessing through misfortune.”
Song Fengsui smiled. “Grandfather is idle at home now, and old people inevitably feel lonely. Though he says he is teaching the children, is that not also a way for him to have some company?”
“I was thinking that having more children around would make things livelier. You mentioned before that some well-to-do families in the town were also looking for a teacher, but I’m not familiar with them. I thought I’d ask you to visit them and tell them about the Song family’s private school.”
“My family’s circumstances are unusual, as you know. If they don’t mind, they are welcome to send their children here to study, and Grandfather will treat them all equally. But if any family has concerns, we won’t force them in the slightest.”
Mr. Bai agreed at once. He planned to host a banquet, invite everyone to eat, and bring up the matter while they were there.
What he thought was that Old Master Song was willing to lower himself to teach the children of families like theirs. Anyone who still had reservations and refused such an opportunity was simply a fool, and people like that were unlikely to have much hope for their children anyway.
Things moved quickly. Within two days, five or six students came to the Song residence together with Mr. Bai’s son to pay their respects to Grandfather Song. Their families brought quite a number of gifts. The Song family did not refuse them. According to proper etiquette, the gifts ought to be accepted before the children could formally become students.
Song Fengsui saw that the youngest was around eight years old, while the oldest was fifteen or sixteen.
A few more days passed, and lessons had already begun at home. Perhaps word had spread even farther, because another four or five students arrived one after another. These newcomers were older, and some were scholars who had already passed the age of twenty.
Grandfather Song did not care about his students’ ages. So long as they were eager to learn, it was never too late to begin, no matter how old they were. Back when he had been at the Imperial Academy, there had been plenty of candidates nearing forty who were unwilling to settle for their existing honors and become officials, and who continued studying in preparation for the imperial examinations.
Grandfather Song had achieved high honors at a young age. Before he was even twenty, he had already taught examination candidates twice his age. There was very little he had not seen.
During the day, the sound of voices reciting books rang through the Song family’s courtyard. Song Fengsui found himself spending more and more time at home. He also enjoyed sitting in on the lessons. In terms of literary talent and learning, he was no worse than many scholars who had earned academic honors, so naturally he liked listening to the lectures.
These tranquil days surrounded by the sound of books often left him momentarily dazed, as though time had returned to the peaceful years before anything had gone wrong in his family. Yet what made these days even better than those calm and untroubled times was that he now had a considerate, attentive companion by his side—someone who knew exactly when he was cold or warm and suited him perfectly.
Life at the private school was indeed peaceful and stable, but the world outside was far from it.
The ironworks delivered a batch of newly forged weapons to the training grounds. During this period, Duan Yan had been training the new recruits in combat. Some of the recruits had a natural aptitude and performed exceptionally well, making rapid progress.
Duan Yan therefore planned to have this group begin learning to use real weapons while their momentum was strong. In ordinary circumstances, whether training soldiers or doing anything else, it was best to build a solid foundation step by step before advancing. But in these chaotic times, they had not been able to stockpile supplies beforehand. All they could do was seize every opportunity and hasten the process, in case an unexpected crisis arose at any moment.
Song Wushen and Song Xuemu were supervising the rebuilding of the city gates that day. Since the site was close to the training grounds, they decided to take a look.
Ever since Duan Yan had successfully recruited the militia, the two of them had not interfered with the training. They had wanted to come and see how things were going, but the defensive construction alone had kept them frantically busy. Duan Yan had never mentioned any problems with the training, so they had not managed to spare the time to pay attention to it.
As soon as they entered the training grounds, they saw a squad of militiamen standing straight as pine trees, running under Old Third Qian’s command.
Every militiaman who passed them had bright, focused eyes. Their steps landed steadily and powerfully on the packed earth, and their arms swung with clean, crisp precision. Their spirit and bearing were so impressive that even a hunched old man would have unconsciously straightened his back upon seeing them.
Song Wushen and Song Xuemu had both seen plenty of soldiers being trained. Even so, they could not help being startled by the sight before them. How did these look like raw recruits who had been enlisted less than a month ago?
They were so well trained and full of spirit that they looked like imperial soldiers. Even imperial troops would have found it difficult to attain such an appearance without three to five months of training.
“Heh! Ha!”
When they turned their heads, they saw another squad inside the grounds. Each man held a heavy chopping blade. At the commands, they sank into horse stances and practiced hacking, slashing, thrusting, and blocking. It was only a simple saber routine, but their stances were incredibly steady. Each of the great blades weighed more than ten jin, yet the men could wield them one-handed without the slightest tremor. Their blades moved with stability, force, and ruthless precision.
They ran every day with weights strapped to their legs, threw sandbags, and lifted stone blocks. Their strength had been built up bit by bit through sweat and hard work. How could their hands and feet possibly be unsteady?
The synchronized sounds of their training were like a roaring tide, their momentum sweeping across the grounds. They were like countless glowing coals, driving away much of the winter chill that hung over the training field.
Duan Yan had been calmly leading the saber unit through its drills. Catching sight of the two figures entering the grounds from the corner of his eye, he put away the heavier blade in his hand, called over a squad leader to take charge of the training, and walked toward Song Wushen and Song Xuemu.
He greeted them familiarly. “Father, Second Uncle, what brings you here? Is something the matter?”
“We’re building the city walls outside. Since the training grounds are nearby, we thought we’d come take a look.”
There was clear admiration in Song Wushen’s eyes. “I never expected you to have trained the troops so well!”
And he was not talking only about the militia. Even Old Third Qian, who served as deputy training officer, felt that he had improved considerably after following Duan Yan’s training methods.
The officer in charge of the barracks was an ambitious man. Whenever he had free time, he would come to the training grounds and practice for half a day before leaving.
Duan Yan smiled. “They haven’t been training for long, so they’re not yet anything special. I’ve only managed to correct their undisciplined habits and make them understand that they’re soldiers now.”
Second Uncle Song Xuemu said, “I’ve seen plenty of soldiers trained, and I’ve visited military camps many times. I’ll say this without exaggeration: you’re no worse than any of those generals. You’re excellent at leading troops!”
Duan Yan was made somewhat bashful by their praise and hurriedly waved his hands.
“Your second uncle is right. You were truly overlooked before. If you had joined the army back then, you would surely have made a name for yourself by now.”
Song Wushen said, “I was getting anxious because the defenses were going up so slowly. After seeing the weapons and equipment, though, I feel somewhat reassured.”
Hearing this, Duan Yan repeatedly asked, “Is the construction of the walls going smoothly?”
“There haven’t been any real problems. It’s just that the work will take a long time, and with only so many hands available, progress has been rather slow.”
The current plan was to build the walls to a height of two zhang—six meters. In all the world, there were hardly two people capable of scaling walls and walking across rooftops like flying, so this height was more than enough to stop anyone on foot. Even simple ladders would be useless against it.
Their town was not a target for a large army, so they had no need to fear anyone bringing along an elaborate siege ladder to scale the walls.
The base of the wall would be four meters thick, built in a trapezoidal shape, narrowing to two meters at the top to ensure its stability.
The outer edge of the wall would also have a parapet roughly one meter high to shield the soldiers and allow them to strike at and resist any attackers approaching from outside. A watchtower would be built above the gate to serve as a lookout and provide early warning.
It was no small undertaking. Without three to five months, the walls could not easily be completed. A structure upon which the town’s safety depended could not be shoddily built simply to hurry the schedule.
The two Song brothers and Duan Yan shared the same concern: those bandits would never wait until everything had been built before launching an attack.
Day after day passed, and before long, the twelfth lunar month had arrived. The period at the end of the year was when trouble was most likely to arise.
Duan Yan left the training grounds with the two brothers and went to the town gate. At that time, numerous laborers were busy working around the town’s perimeter.
They were tamping earth, breaking stones, and hauling materials. Looking out, one could see that the town had already been encircled, but only the foundations had been laid. Construction on the gatehouse was progressing a little faster, with portions of its walls already standing. As for the rest of the perimeter, only the outlines had been marked, enough to show everyone that walls would eventually rise there.
The walls were not being built entirely of brick and stone. There was not enough stone in the town. Though everyone knew stone construction was superior, quarrying in the mountains would take even longer and create considerable noise.
Song Xuemu had plenty of experience, so he had them use wooden boards to hold damp earth in place while it was compacted with rammers, building the walls layer by layer.
Earth and crushed stone were inexpensive and made for faster construction. They were more than sufficient to defend against roving bandits and mountain brigands.
Even so, Duan Yan could not help worrying. It was already raining and snowing continuously, with the sun failing to appear even once in ten days or half a month. What would happen if they encountered torrential rains or some other natural disaster in the future? Would walls made of tamped earth and stone be able to withstand it?
“I also looked through Kang County’s records,” Song Xuemu explained. “They mention frequent rainfall, so in the end, I decided to cover the tamped earth with a layer of broken brick and stone for protection.”
Duan Yan nodded. With that, they would not have to fear the rain. Rock Town might be small, but it had gathered quite a number of capable people. If not for the chaos of war, there would be no need to make defensive preparations—but once they had made up their minds to do so, one difficult matter after another came crashing down. Without specialists in their respective fields, it truly could not have been done.
The moment they had finished discussing this, as though speaking of bad luck summoned it, the bandits nearest to Rock Town, deep within the Myriad Mountains Forest, had already begun to grow restless.
“The town gate already has several watchtowers standing, and there are people watching from them every day. Scarface slipped through the woods and reached the outskirts of town. From high ground, he saw that those fat little lambs were actually throwing themselves into building walls on a grand scale!”
“Boss, it’s true that we aren’t short on food this year. But the fighting outside is raging, and who knows when it will end? If we don’t make a move now and fill our bellies while the town walls haven’t been built, then once those walls are finished next year, we may find it much harder to get our meat.”
The bandit chieftain whom several burly men addressed as their boss was called Blood Leopard. He had a pair of sinister-looking three-white eyes.
Wrapped in a fur hide, he was powerfully built and possessed the savage appearance of a wild beast.
With a gleaming dagger in hand, he shaved meat from a venison haunch that was half raw and half cooked, then stuffed the slices into his mouth.
“They’re nothing but a flock of weaklings. Even if they finish building the walls, there’s nothing to fear. Rock Town is our stronghold’s granary. Whenever we want to take some grain, we can simply go and get it.”
The man called Scarface sidled up ingratiatingly and said, “Every one of our brothers is a capable fighter. If we go to the granary for food, those weaklings won’t be able to stop us. We’re nothing like that useless bunch at the Northern Stockade—the Bearded Man and his men. They robbed a shipment and not only lost several brothers, but even let two of them get captured alive.
“They’ve been interrogating those captives for so long that anything worth telling should have been spilled by now, yet no one’s dared come into the mountains to rescue them. That just goes to show how useless they are. And despite having so many men at the Northern Stockade, they’re still scared of every little disturbance, as if the slightest breeze or rustle will send them running.”
Laughter broke out throughout the stockade.
After a while, someone else said, “Still, we have to worry about those bastards at the Northern Stockade. What if they beat us to the town? Wouldn’t they snatch all the good stuff before we got there?”
Blood Leopard said, “The Bearded Man made a killing on the roads during autumn. He won’t be coming out of the mountains this year.”
“The New Year is almost here. The roads have been cut off in places, and it’s been a long while since any choice goods came through.”
Scarface secretly watched Blood Leopard’s expression before saying, “The brothers have no shortage of food and drink. It’s just that we haven’t enjoyed any truly satisfying pleasures in a long time. If we could get into town and indulge ourselves, wouldn’t that make for a comfortable New Year?”
Blood Leopard chewed the meat in his mouth but did not reply.
In truth, these mountain bandits could not easily raid the town. The risk was far greater than robbing goods along the main road.
They had taken plenty of cargo during the autumn, and it was indeed true that they were not short of food for the moment. But seeing the town begin to build its walls made it impossible for them not to feel uneasy.
The trade routes had been severed by the war, leaving them without the easy spoils that came with passing caravans. Naturally, the bandits had turned their attention to the nearby villages. Unfortunately, Rock Town and the bandits’ stronghold occupied a peculiar position: to rob the villages, they first had to pass through the town.
In other words, if the people of Rock Town wanted to take the lower-risk route and raid villages without government troops, they could not do so.
Now, the only fat sheep in sight was about to raise and reinforce its gates. How could they let that happen?
They had to get inside and thoroughly plunder the town before its defenses were complete. All those words about not taking the town seriously were nothing more than an attempt to save face.
Blood Leopard’s eyes darkened. He had never truly considered the people of Rock Town—those wine-soaked idlers—worthy opponents. In the past, there had been no need to take the risk. But if it came to a real fight, why should his twenty or so brothers fear the town’s yamen runners, whose blades had never even tasted blood?
With a clang, he drove his dagger into the table.
“It’s time to let the brothers enjoy themselves,” Blood Leopard declared. “We’ll make our move before the New Year. We’re going to have ourselves a good raid!”
