Chapter 52: Master Wei’s Old Friend

“Very well! Since you’ve all spoken up, I will grant your wish: there will be no breakfast for any of you tomorrow. From this day forward, you need only remember one thing: obedience. If I tell you to go, you go. If I tell you to sit, you sit. If I don’t say it’s time to eat, then no matter how hungry you are, you are not to touch a single grain. If I say eat, then even if there’s poison in your bowl, you must finish it to the last bite. That is obedience. Do you understand?”

“We understand!”

“Good. I’ll give you half an hour to bathe and wash your clothes. After that, all of you are to sleep. Anyone still awake will stand here the whole night. Dismissed!”

Modernizing training is a difficult process, especially for a pioneer. But the people of this era are more docile than those of later generations; feudal hierarchy has taught them obedience, so Cai Cong found himself worrying much less than anticipated. A month slipped by in the blink of an eye.

At first, Cai Cong allowed onlookers from other camps to come and watch the “spectacle.” But gradually, he forbade entry to all without his personal order, even turning away men sent by Li Shimin. Cai Cong was a man attached to home—by the second day of training, he had already moved the camp near Cai Family Village.

Li Chengqian visited a few times. With frequent contact, Cai Cong soon saw through him: the boy was clever and sharp, not foolish at all—just a little young and inexperienced, his maneuvers too unrefined. He was no match for Cai Cong, who always outplayed him, but it was precisely this that made them good friends.

The most diligent visitor to the camp, however, was not Li Chengqian, but Yan Dong. Every time, he would stay from dawn till dusk. Yet he could never make sense of what he saw. When he reported to Li Shimin, they were both left scratching their heads.

What use could there be in circling about, climbing up and down all day? Why carry heavy stones and run for twenty miles? Even if they ran fast, would that not make them deserters? And what was with learning herbs and identifying foodstuffs daily—was this rascal planning to make all thousand men into cooks?

Every time he thought of it, Li Shimin felt a headache coming on. His only consolation was that Cai Cong had started a night school, teaching the men to read and write. That, at least, was a pleasant surprise.

In the palace, Li Shimin was in conversation with Yan Dong, who had just returned.

“Cai Cong says the next phase of training is secret. If Your Majesty fears the Black Armored Troops might lose, he’s willing to let this old servant watch, seeing as Your Majesty personally trained them. If they lose, it would be embarrassing for you. I was so angry I nearly started a fight.”

Yan Dong spoke with feigned righteous indignation, but Li Shimin only chuckled. Such a shallow goad, and yet it worked.

“Pay them no mind. I am curious to see how he plans to defeat my Black Armored Troops. Let there be no lack in supplies—I don’t want Cai Cong making excuses for defeat.”

“I understand, I won’t give him the chance,” Yan Dong replied, bowing, but he looked as though he had more to say.

“Out with it. What are you afraid of?” Li Shimin snapped, frowning. He had no patience for hemming and hawing.

“Yes, Your Majesty. During my visits, I’ve noticed a transformation in their spirit—arrogance radiates from their bones, impossible to contain. I fear Cai Cong has some secret methods I haven’t seen. The Black Armored Troops may not be able to cope.”

“Hahaha! So that’s all? If that’s the case, I couldn’t be happier. Victory or defeat is a small matter. What matters is seeing whether Cai Cong’s method of building an elite force is as effective as he claims.”

Li Shimin spoke with kingly pride, his heart burning with dreams of sweeping the Turks from the steppe. The humiliation inflicted by Jieli had gnawed at his pride day and night. If this method truly worked, then crushing the Turks would be only a matter of time.

Suppressing his ambitions, Li Shimin returned to state affairs, while Cai Cong wasted no time in calling everyone together for a monthly assessment.

“You’ve been training for a while now. Today is your first test: survive for seven days in Great Ring Mountain. You will have no weapons and no food; you must rely on yourselves. This is Smilegrass, unique to Great Ring Mountain and very rare. Each of you must collect ten stalks. Anyone who brings back fewer than ten fails the assessment, will be confined for three days, and clean latrines for a month. Is that clear?”

“Clear!”

“Great Ring Mountain is home to tigers and wolves. Unarmed, it is extremely dangerous. Aside from beasts, other squads may ambush you and steal your Smilegrass. If you’re injured, you might end up as a beast’s dinner. Anyone afraid may withdraw now. If you’re an only child, you must withdraw—this is an order.”

When he finished, no one left. After a moment’s pause, he waved his hand to begin. In an instant, the thousand men scattered into the hills and vanished among the trees.

“Master, isn’t this too risky? The mountains are full of venomous snakes and fierce beasts, and Smilegrass grows deep within. I’m afraid something terrible will happen,” Meng Baolai said anxiously. This was no joke—if someone died, Cai Cong would have to answer for it.

“If you want to forge the world’s finest army, some blood must be shed. Xu Jie and the others are in the mountains too. As long as there’s no deadly force against comrades, everything else is within tolerance,” Cai Cong replied calmly. This was no child’s play—how could it be peaceful?

“Keep an eye on the camp. I haven’t been home in a month. I can’t imagine how much my mother misses me. I’m heading back,” Cai Cong said with a smile.

Meng Baolai wanted nothing more than to spit in his face. Shameless! Lady Xiao Jia came by every few days with four maids to see him, and he dared to claim he hadn’t seen her in a month. Clearly, he was just making excuses because the cooks had gone into the mountains and he dreaded camp food.

He thought all this, but simply pounded his chest and promised to look after everything at the camp. If anything happened, he would answer with his head. Cai Cong, long accustomed to Meng Baolai’s shamelessness, ignored him and rode home in his carriage.

Cai Family Village was now the envy of all—first the family produced Lady Xiao Jia, then a new earl. The family was honored as never before; the old master held banquets for seven days straight. One Lady’s Mansion, one Earl’s Residence, built together, with an academy as well.

Speaking of the academy, there was a craftsman of humble origin worth mentioning. One student’s father was a craftsman, and three generations of savings had finally freed his son from the craftsman register. Hearing of the chance to study, he brought out every skill he had; in three days, he built a stone house from scratch.

Cai Cong was amazed when he heard of it in the camp. The Zhaozhou Bridge was built entirely of stone and still stood firm after a thousand years—a testament to genius and a closely guarded craft.

There was no choice: he immediately sent Weiguo with a cart of copper coins to buy the entire family. He had to—if that craft spread, craftsmen might be forced to reveal their secrets, or worse, silenced.

Once purchased, the family went to the county office, shed their humble status, and became free commoners. The family wept with joy, feasted, and strolled through the markets of Chang’an, approaching patrol officers just to show off their new status papers. Even when the officers scolded them, they didn’t mind—a dream of generations had come true, a little exuberance was only natural.

The scholars Master Wei invited were all extraordinary. Some walked barefoot, some exuded the elegance of antiquity, and some dressed like beggars but wore a scholar’s topknot adorned with a pine twig.

Master Wei could not have been happier, raising a cup in celebration at every turn. Even Li Gang came to drink—old friends from the Sui dynasty, living incognito. This time, all were drawn out by Cai Cong’s epic history of China.

This was just the transitional phase—soon, the grand epic of the Tang would unfold in all its glory.

End of chapter.