Volume One: Flames on the Border Chapter Twelve: The Grand Tournament

Deng'er was taken aback when He Yu said that she, too, needed to practice martial arts for self-defense. However, she trusted He Yu implicitly; since her brother said so, he must have his reasons.

Without further ado, that very night He Yu taught Deng'er a close-quarters combat technique. It was a modern special forces super-combat move, emphasizing lethal efficiency—“a kick to the groin, a grip to the throat”—swift, ruthless, and deadly. Deng'er, having a foundation in her family's martial arts, picked it up quickly; in less than half an hour, she had mastered it.

The next day was the fourteenth day of the first month. After spending half the morning practicing archery and horsemanship at the small training ground, He Yu returned home for a meal. Because the next day was the grand Lantern Festival competition, Deng'er, wanting He Yu to eat well and be strong, steeled herself and slaughtered their old hen to make a nourishing pot of chicken soup for him.

Their household owned only two old hens; after killing one, only a solitary bird remained. In the six months since their arrival in this world, they had eaten well only during New Year; the rest of the time, their diet was bland and monotonous. Having chicken was a rare and precious treat.

He Yu tore off a whole chicken leg and placed it in Deng'er's bowl. "Deng'er, you eat!"

Deng'er shook her head and demurred, "Brother, you should eat it. The soup is enough for me." "Tomorrow is the big competition. Eat more meat to gain strength."

He Yu knew Deng'er was saving the best for him out of affection. Where else could one find such a wonderful girl?

He Yu was about to insist when he suddenly remembered something. Slapping his thigh, he exclaimed, "Ah, how forgetful of me—I got so caught up talking about revenge that I almost forgot this!" He turned and went into the bedroom, retrieving a large piece of silver and a short sword, both hidden under his pillow.

He had only thought of these before bed and had placed them under his pillow, intending to give them to Deng'er for safekeeping early in the morning.

When Deng'er saw the large piece of silver—estimated to be worth fifty or sixty thousand coins—her eyes lit up. "Brother Yu, where did you get so much silver?" (At that time, one tael of silver could be exchanged for a thousand copper coins. Silver was relatively expensive and not often used in regular transactions.)

He Yu grinned mischievously and teased, "Deng'er, bet you didn't expect this. We've struck it rich! Let's slaughter that other old hen tonight and have a feast. From now on, we'll eat our fill every day and never touch that miserable soup and noodles again!"

As he spoke, he recounted the story of selling the horse. Deng'er was both amused and exasperated; Brother Yu had killed two birds with one stone—bold and careful, avenging their grievances while making a tidy profit.

Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to the short sword, her face clouded with doubt. How had Brother Yu returned after a single day with so many rare and valuable things?

He Yu had not intended to mention the encounter with the stunning lady, but since Deng'er asked, he told her the whole story.

After hearing it, Deng'er's face showed a trace of petulance as she pouted, "That lady must be wealthy. Was she beautiful?"

He Yu realized with some alarm that, though he always thought Deng'er the very embodiment of traditional virtue and gentleness, jealousy seemed to be a universal feminine trait, timeless and unchanging. Deng'er was jealous.

He laughed heartily.

He Yu replied glibly, "Her looks were passable, but compared to our little Deng'er, she doesn't even come close."

"As I’ve said before, there may be thousands of beauties in the world, but our Deng'er is the fairest of them all."

Deng'er couldn't help but laugh at his playful words, her smile lighting up the whole room.

He Yu regretted not asking the lady her name, but then he reasoned that it would have been inappropriate to ask a woman her name at their first meeting.

Deng'er examined the short sword closely, her gaze falling on the character "Yan" engraved on the blade. She muttered to herself, "Such a luxurious sword, it must be from the Northern Wei imperial palace... Yan... Yan... Tuoba Yan?"

"Who is Tuoba Yan?"

He Yu knew that Tuoba was the surname of the Northern Wei royal family; the current Wei king was Tuoba Gui. Could this short sword really have come from the Wei palace? Recalling the events, it seemed quite possible. Tuoba Yan was evidently a famous figure, but who exactly was she?

Seeing He Yu's curiosity, Deng'er explained, "This sword is so precious that I suspect it belongs to the Wei royal family. The blade is engraved with 'Yan,' so I guess it belongs to the current Princess Chang of Pingcheng, Tuoba Yan."

"Tuoba Yan is the elder sister of Wei King Tuoba Gui, born of the same mother. She is said to be as beautiful as a celestial maiden, renowned alongside Princess Murong Shanshan of the State of Yan. Murong Shanshan is the only daughter of Prince Murong De of Fanyang; together, they are called the 'Twin Jewels of the Xianbei.' Since Tuoba Yan is in the north and Murong Shanshan is in the south, there is a rhyme: 'In the south, there is Shanshan, graceful and fragrant; in the north, there is Yanyan, radiant and dazzling.'"

"They say Tuoba Yan’s beauty is unparalleled. If the lady you met was not as beautiful as our Deng'er, then perhaps she is not Tuoba Yan after all."

Deng'er had only spoken halfway when He Yu suddenly understood. If the woman he met yesterday was not Tuoba Yan, then who else in the world could be called one of the 'Twin Jewels of the Xianbei'? Tuoba Yan’s beauty was earth-shattering, and yet there was another, Murong Shanshan, her equal. The creator's handiwork was indeed wondrous.

He Yu felt a twinge of guilt: fortunately, he had no intention of seeking out Tuoba Yan, so Deng'er would never meet her—otherwise, all the white lies he’d told today would surely be exposed. As beautiful as Deng'er was, she could not compare to Tuoba Yan’s legendary looks. His offhand words would only make Deng'er worry needlessly.

Deng'er, unaware of He Yu’s thoughts, had no connection to the sword’s owner and let the matter drop.

After the meal, Deng'er brought out a knife and scissors to cut the large silver ingot into smaller pieces for convenience.

The next day was the fifteenth of the first month, the day of the grand competition. To conserve his energy, He Yu rested at home that afternoon. Now, with a small fortune, they no longer worried about their livelihood. Following He Yu’s suggestion, Deng'er slaughtered the remaining hen and made another pot of stew. The two feasted heartily, leaving nothing but bones behind.

Sitting under the eaves picking his teeth, He Yu mused, “Delicious! This old hen has been free-ranging for over sixteen hundred years; the flavor is leagues above the factory-raised chickens of the modern world. Tomorrow, I must perform well to ensure Deng'er and I can continue eating as we please.”

The next morning, Deng'er rose early to prepare food and drink for He Yu, sending him off to enlist as a retainer.

The competition was held in the main training ground of the fortress. Around seven in the morning, people began to arrive.

He Yu led his warhorse and followed the crowd into the arena. The sun had just risen, and the spring air was still chilly. On the east side of the field, a row of chairs and tables had been arranged for the leading figures of the fortress.

At the center table sat two people: the fortress master, Chen Jing, and his younger sister, Chen Qingyun. Behind the table stood a line of heavily armed guards. The entire arena was solemn and silent; no one dared speak loudly.

He Yu glanced at the platform, where Chen Qingyun sat in a red outfit with a bright scarlet cloak draped over her shoulders, a long sword at her waist. Her hair cascaded like a waterfall, her features exquisitely beautiful. Her feminine charm was matched by an air of heroic vigor. Compared to Deng'er, she was fuller-figured; in terms of beauty, they were equals.

He Yu had already investigated the rules for this competition. All the applicants were sons of the fortress, both from inside and out, totaling more than eight hundred. Only about a hundred would be recruited—a selection ratio of eight to one, comparable to modern civil service exams.

As the appointed hour arrived, the steward announced the rules.

The competition consisted of five events: archery, horsemanship, swordsmanship, weightlifting, and a speed trial.

The first event, "Stone," was a test of strength. In the center of the field lay ten stone locks, each weighing four shi, approximately two hundred jin. Each candidate had to lift one over their head to qualify for the next round.

This event was fairly simple and went quickly. Since all participants had trained their strength, most passed, though a few failed to lift the stones overhead.

The second event was archery on foot, using the common four-jun bow—about fifty-three jin of draw weight. Each person shot five arrows; hitting three counted as a pass. Archery was a basic skill in the age of cold weapons, so this event wasn't too difficult either, though more people failed here than in the strength test. This round took a bit longer.

By midday, the third event began: mounted archery. This was more challenging—riding at full speed, one had to shoot at moving targets with a four-jun bow, with three hits out of five required to pass. Shooting a four-jun bow on foot was easy enough, but on horseback, without firm footing, it was much harder.

He Yu had analyzed mounted archery in detail: two points were crucial. First, one needed reserves of strength to remain calm and focused. Second, if the first arrow missed, one had to quickly adjust.

As a modern special forces soldier, He Yu’s physical strength far surpassed the average man. He had tested himself pulling two four-jun bows at once without difficulty; his arm strength was at least double the required bow power.

In his special operations team, He Yu served as a sniper, with exceptional talent and top-tier technique.

Sure enough, as soon as the mounted archery began, several candidates missed their targets and were eliminated. When it was He Yu’s turn, he took a moment to steady his breath, mounted his horse, and charged forward, loosing an arrow at a distant target. The long arrow struck the bullseye, burying itself to the fletching. The crowd of candidates erupted in cheers.

With the first shot a success, He Yu now had his calibration; there was no reason to miss the next shots. He galloped like the wind, releasing four more arrows in quick succession, all of them striking dead center.

On the final shot, He Yu used a bit too much force—there was a loud crack as his four-jun bow snapped in his hands. In the blink of an eye, all five arrows had found their mark.

Those who knew the art gasped in amazement. Drawing a hard bow was no easy feat, nor was shooting accurately, but He Yu's speed was simply unheard of—even the famed Flying General Li Guang of the Han Dynasty might not have matched it.

"Ha!"

"Ah!"

"Wow!"

"Incredible!"

"This young man is a true prodigy!"

The audience was in an uproar, thunderous applause resounding.

On the high platform, the leading figures were struck dumb with astonishment. Chen Jing asked in a low voice, "Whose son is this? How is it that I’ve never heard of him before?"