Chapter 49: Hard Work

On this day, Li Po and Li Chun finally officially joined the glorious ranks of grooms.

Working their first day, Li Po and Li Chun labored very diligently. After all, they were newcomers; if you weren't quick-witted and nimble-handed, would you really expect anyone to take you seriously?

Li Po had no idea that a minor official from the Household Bureau had spent the entire day searching for him before finally returning to report to Staff Officer Chen that the two brothers had vanished without a trace, destination unknown.

Of course, this posed no real difficulty for them. Orders were given to inquire with Luo San, and they promptly learned that the fellow had transformed overnight, slipping straight into the Commandery Prefecture to eat the emperor's rice.

Under the jurisdiction of the Transport Bureau, stationed within the prefecture's private stables—even though he was merely an ordinary groom without any official rank—he was nevertheless considered one of the minor officials within Mayi City.

They say that even a gatekeeper at a prime minister's mansion holds the rank of a seventh-grade official; caring for horses for a local potentate like the Magistrate of Mayi also made one a relatively high-ranking figure among Mayi's minor functionaries.

The Staff Officer felt a tinge of regret. Having not been in Mayi for long, he was precisely in need of dependable men.

A fellow like Li Po, who had entered the city as a refugee yet was sharp, bold, and possessed a background that could withstand scrutiny, was the prime candidate for a trusted confidant. That's right—being in the Household Bureau, it was effortless for him to review the military registers of all departments in Mayi.

The grand name of Li Chengshun was prominently listed, though he was stationed at a military outpost beyond the northern frontier. Because the Yunzhong Garrison Command had long since existed in name only, garrison soldiers at various outposts frequently deserted. To investigate any further would require sending men beyond the Great Wall or all the way to Fufeng.

Clearly, for a mere nobody like Li Po, it was not worth expending that kind of effort and manpower.

In fact, the investigation having reached this point was quite sufficient. He did not believe that the Tujue would dispatch a youth like this to spy on Mayi's military intelligence.

To reiterate, there were far too many people in Mayi Commandery with ties to the Tujue. Even if the Tujue were to send an assassin, it wouldn't be someone like Li Po; that would be no different from a joke.

He seemed a quite suitable confidant. According to the education he had received over the years, subduing such a person would not be particularly difficult.

It was simply a matter of combining benevolence with severity.

Unfortunately, the brat had terrible luck and had run off on his own to feed horses in the commandery prefecture.

Upon hearing this news, the young staff officer pondered it for a moment, then immediately cast the matter to the back of his mind. Given his status, he had plenty of available men and didn't need to waste any more energy on a minor character.

Someone like Yuchi—shrewd, capable, and holding military rank—was the prime candidate worthy of his effort.

Li Po had no idea that he had missed a fine opportunity. Of course, had he known, he would have merely curled his lip in disdain and considered it his good fortune.

Having received a round of lashes the very first time he worked for that bastard, he carried the memory of such an unpleasant experience and had no desire to cozy up to someone who didn't give a damn whether he lived or died.

However, he was also starting to wonder whether becoming a groom was really a good choice.

Because on his very first day of work, the old man finally seized the opportunity to subject him to a thorough scolding.

Yet the scolding wasn't entirely unjustified.

You must understand that knowing about raising horses and actually knowing how to raise horses are two entirely different things; that is the gap between theory and practice.

Herding and stable-rearing were likewise distinct, representing two completely different methods of horse management.

In other words, no matter how much Li Po had blustered, his actual skills weren't quite that profound. Once he got hands-on, an expert could spot his flaws with absolute ease.

Amidst the old man's roaring, Li Po muttered inwardly that this was a classic case of menopausal syndrome, and the severe kind at that—the manic type—while his hands and feet grew increasingly nimble.

Since he was eating someone else's food and subject to their authority, Li Po understood these basic principles very well.

Just like when he had received that whipping earlier: though unwilling, he didn't harbor deep grudges against this person or that.

To say he was magnanimous would be an exaggeration, but he certainly couldn't be described as narrow-minded either. Overall, he was someone who knew what he ought to do and was well aware of his own status and position.

He neither railed against heaven nor blamed others, nor did he give up on himself in despair.

By the end of the day, Li Po had been sprayed all over with a shower of saliva, his ears were ringing, and Li Chun followed dejectedly behind him as the two of them returned to their quarters covered in dust and grime.

Clearly, days like this were far less carefree than the time they had spent in the human market.

A single day was enough to make someone like Li Po feel that entering the commandery prefecture to work might have been a monumental mistake, demonstrating that the old man's formidable presence was truly no laughing matter.

After finishing dinner, there was still no time to idle.

Preparing feed for the morrow, followed by a final inspection of the stables—by the time he completed the rounds, the moon had climbed high into the sky.

Returning to the room once more, he told Li Chun to go to sleep while he lay down fully clothed.

Because there were still two rounds of night feeding left to tend to.

Do not complain; this entire routine was the very essence of raising warhorses in the Great Sui, embodying the countless accumulations of knowledge passed down by predecessors.

A single day was enough for Li Po to fully recognize his own shortcomings. If he wished to become a qualified horseman, there was still a vast amount to learn.

Compared to the environment of the grasslands and the extensive herding methods practiced there, the inferiority of the latter, when set against the refined husbandry of the Great Sui, was glaringly obvious.

Back on the grasslands, Third Uncle used to mutter constantly that the Tujue people could never raise true warhorses.

Li Po had once felt that statement was somewhat exaggerated.

Today, through practical application and witnessing several types of feed that perhaps could never be seen on the grasslands, combined with verifying everything step-by-step against what he had previously learned, he finally understood.

The people of the grasslands could never dream of raising horses this way; they simply couldn't afford it.

The reason the grassland people were renowned for their warhorses was not because their breeding techniques were superior, but because their sources of horses were more abundant. Most of their warhorses weren't bred; they were seized through tribal warfare.

This truly proved that practice yields genuine knowledge. Had he not stepped into the stables of the Great Sui, Li Po might never have known the shortcomings and unique insights hidden within his own preconceived notions of horsemanship.

The two night feedings took place, the first around the Hour of the Rat, and the second around the Third Watch.

The feeding during the Hour of the Rat was Yuan Lang's task, while Li Po was assigned to the one during the Third Watch.

By this point, the arduous nature of a groom's labor became glaringly obvious.

Clearly, this was an occupation requiring professional skills and involving extremely high labor intensity, yet possessing a social status that was utterly disproportionate to it.

To Li Po's quiet relief, although there were no alarm clocks, the prefecture had night-watchmen beating gongs. After a few days of rising at this hour, his biological clock had adjusted itself quite nicely.

The moment the Third Watch arrived, Li Po woke instantly, nimbly dressed, and pushed open the door. The moonlight was hazy and the spring chill biting. He instinctively stretched his limbs, and both his mind and body rapidly snapped to full alertness.

Not far away, a door gave a soft creak, and the old man's figure materialized in the moonlight. He glanced toward Li Po, his lips pursed in slight dissatisfaction, as if to say, "How dare you get up on your own without waiting for me to come bang on your door and chase you out?"

Li Po shot a sideways glance in that direction, thinking to himself, *Damn it, even old skinflint Zhou would have to concede defeat to you.*

Watching Li Po's figure vanish among the rows of stables, the old man turned around in silence and went back into his room.