Chapter Fifty: The Peerless Steed Among Thousands

Jiang Chen’s goodwill was not appreciated by the young lady. After a brief struggle and resistance, he firmly grasped her stubborn ankle and rather roughly applied a bottle of medicinal liquid he carried with him.

“This is a medicinal wine I brewed myself. It works wonders for injuries like this—rest for three days and you’ll be nearly recovered,” Jiang Chen said, not caring whether she was listening intently or not. After giving his instructions, he prepared to take his leave.

“Hey! Where are you going now?”

“It’s all settled here. I have my own affairs to deal with. Is there something else you want to say?”

The young lady hesitated, then said, “Don’t think I’ll thank you just because of this. If I run into you again, I’ll teach you a thing or two about proper manners!”

“Hey! I haven’t finished speaking!”

Jiang Chen ignored her. Yet, curiously, as he walked away, the frail white mare and her newborn foal struggled to their feet and followed him closely, as if drawn by an invisible bond.

The sight was uncanny. Between man and beast, a trust deeper and purer than between people seemed to have been forged.

When Jiang Chen returned to the Waterhorse Relay Station, not long after, Luo Tiancheng arrived with the six lost relay horses. Upon hearing what had happened with the white horse, he was left utterly speechless with amazement.

“So that’s basically the situation. I can’t take care of them right now. Would it be possible to keep them at the relay station for the time being?” Jiang Chen asked, proposing that the white mare and her foal recover there. Luo Tiancheng immediately agreed, offering his full support.

“Of course, that’s no problem! Brother Chen, have you ever heard of that rare breed in horse herds—the one-in-a-million divine steeds that are sought but seldom found? I think this white mare and her foal are just such legendary creatures!”

“The white mare’s neigh could draw the other horses to her without hesitation, making them submit to her leadership. That’s proof enough!” Luo Tiancheng said, brimming with excitement.

“Perhaps. I leave the horses in your care, then. We’d best hurry on to Ziyang,” Jiang Chen replied.

Jiang Chen was well aware these two horses were anything but ordinary. The way the white mare’s single cry could scatter six horses in fright was proof enough of her unique status among her kind. But such matters were best kept quiet, lest they attract covetous eyes.

Thanks to Luo Tiancheng’s cover, Jiang Chen finally made it smoothly into Ziyang City. Nestled deep in the southern heartlands of the Great Qian, the city resembled a secluded paradise untouched by the outside world.

The streets bustled with life, winding for hundreds of meters without end. Shops and stalls lined both sides, their wares plentiful and varied. Merchants from north and south bartered and traded, fueling the city’s prosperity.

Jiang Chen remarked to Luo Tiancheng, “Anyone would think the Great Qian is living in peace and plenty. But I still remember—a mere hundred meters beyond these walls, hundreds of refugees are starving to death as we speak!”

“My feelings are the same as yours, Brother Chen. But I fear these peaceful days won’t last much longer,” Luo Tiancheng replied.

“Oh? Has something happened?” Jiang Chen asked with concern.

Luo Tiancheng explained that the city was currently conscripting soldiers; many had already been taken away. With the northern front embroiled in fierce conflict, recruitment was to be expected. But the word Luo Tiancheng used—“taken away”—suggested a more troubling reality.

“No one is asked if they wish to go. Any able-bodied young man is simply seized and drafted. All the jobs that require strong labor have vanished from the city overnight.”

“I heard there are families whose three sons have all been taken. They say the boys will return this time next year, but who knows if what comes back won’t be news of their deaths?” Luo Tiancheng sighed.

Jiang Chen wanted to know who had devised such a foolish method of recruitment.

“It seems the order came from the Ministry of War. With the conflict spreading, the ministry’s influence at court only grows. After all, they’re the ones organizing the war effort.”

As they spoke, a scene unfolded before their eyes. Two soldiers were dragging a pair of young men into a group of twenty or so—clearly a press-ganged unit. Once they were issued uniforms, they would become soldiers of Great Qian.

“Good sirs, please have mercy! My grandson is only twelve—how could he be fit for battle?” cried a blind old man, scrambling after them, clutching his grandson’s sleeve with desperate strength, refusing to let go.

An official overseeing the recruitment approached. He wore a dark green robe and carried a birdcage, idly teasing the bird inside with a smug, contemptible air.

“Who dares cause a commotion here? Fighting for the country is a matter of national importance—do you defy the state?” he snapped.

Tears streamed down the old man’s face as he pleaded, “Please, my lord, I already lost two sons to the army five years ago. Whether they live or die, I know not. My grandson is all I have left—must my family line truly be wiped out?”

Unmoved, the official replied, “It is the duty of every citizen of Great Qian to defend their homeland. Is your grandson not a subject of Great Qian?”

“Yes… yes, he is.”

“Then there you have it. If he won’t fight and die for his country, is he to become a traitor?”

The official twisted his words skillfully, leaving the old man speechless and without recourse.

Nor was the next family’s plight any better. A young couple, married barely two days, was being torn apart as the husband was dragged away. Whether he would return was anyone’s guess.

Given the brutality of the northern war and the utter lack of proper training for these men, most would likely die on the battlefield, their lives wasted.

The townsfolk looked on with anger and sorrow, but none dared resist, knowing there was no use—obedience was all that remained.

“What’s all this ruckus? Don’t you know I preside over this city? If word of this gets out, people will say I govern poorly. Is that the reputation you want for me?” came a somewhat familiar voice from afar.

As the man approached, Jiang Chen realized it was the very same young lord he had argued with outside Ziyang not long ago—the one who had spoken so rudely to Wu Yue.

Jiang Chen asked, “Who is this man, and why does he put on such airs?”

Luo Tiancheng replied, “That’s the official’s son I mentioned before—the son of the Minister of Revenue at court.”