Chapter Fifty-Seven: On the Eve of the People’s Dawn

While Qin Cheng was speaking with Kong Zhengfang, Qin Qingzhi waited outside the tent. Qin Cheng had already instructed Qin Qingzhi to dismiss the others, and although Qin Qingzhi didn’t fully understand the reasoning, he carried out the order without question. The autumn night was cold; Qin Qingzhi instinctively hunched his shoulders and glanced up at the moon, its light clear and bright, the full moon arching overhead. Straightening his posture, he resolved not to mind the biting wind.

Standing outside, Qin Qingzhi could only faintly make out fragments of the conversation between Qin Cheng and Kong Zhengfang. Qin Qingzhi admired Qin Cheng greatly, knowing he could not compare to him, and thus he was determined to learn from him. Unlike others who simply envied Qin Cheng, Qin Qingzhi made a point to heed his guidance, and Qin Cheng had proved a decent teacher, offering advice in daily matters. Benefiting greatly, Qin Qingzhi had resolved to diligently serve at Qin Cheng’s side.

Their conversation lasted nearly two hours, until just before dawn, when Qin Cheng finally called Qin Qingzhi into the tent.

“Escort Captain Kong away and guard him strictly,” Qin Cheng ordered. “Without my permission, no one is to approach his quarters.”

“Yes, sir!” Qin Qingzhi glanced at Kong Zhengfang, noting his calm demeanor—neither humble nor proud, neither joyful nor angry. His placid expression betrayed nothing, which puzzled Qin Qingzhi, for Kong Zhengfang had appeared quite anxious when he first arrived.

With Kong Zhengfang escorted away, Qin Cheng stepped out of the tent, checking the sky and seeing the eastern horizon glowing, he abandoned any thought of sleep. When Qin Qingzhi returned, Qin Cheng asked, “Is everything arranged?”

“Rest assured, General. There will be no mistakes this time; nothing will go awry,” Qin Qingzhi promised.

Qin Cheng patted his shoulder, speaking meaningfully, “You’ve been diligent these past days, and not only have I noticed, others likely have too. If they can’t strike at me, they may target those beside me. You must stay alert.”

“Understood, General,” Qin Qingzhi replied with conviction.

Qin Cheng nodded. “Today I must visit the Prefect’s residence to see the General. You’ll supervise the martial drills with the enforcement squad. If anything unexpected occurs, act as you see fit—don’t hesitate. Whatever happens, I’ll back you.”

“General, you can rely on me. I know what to do,” Qin Qingzhi responded firmly.

“Good, then I am at ease.” Qin Cheng mounted the warhorse brought by a guard, took up the reins, and said, “I’ll return soon.” With that, he rode off.

The visibility was still dim, the road shadowy, but the route from camp to the city was broad, so Qin Cheng did not slow his pace, galloping all the way.

By the time he reached the Prefect’s residence, daylight had broken. After instructing the sentry at the gate to announce his arrival, the guard soon returned and led Qin Cheng inside, heading toward the rear courtyard. Before they arrived, Qin Cheng heard the clash of weapons and shouts of men. At the gate, the guard said, “The General said you may enter on your own.” Bowing, he departed.

Inside, Qin Cheng saw two bare-chested men sparring in the courtyard—practicing with blades. There were no dazzling flashes, but each move was solid and real, no feints or pretenses, the contest fraught with danger. Qin Cheng nodded in silent approval.

Without question, the two men training at dawn were Li Guang and Li Gan.

Li Guang, a veteran of the battlefield, was more teaching than sparring, offering guidance with each exchange. Li Gan struggled, uncertain if he absorbed his father’s lessons.

The match ended with Li Guang kicking Li Gan to the ground. Sheathing his long blade, Li Guang did not help his son up, but said sternly, “I told you to practice your stance daily, but you didn’t believe me. Look at you now—unstable footing! In a fierce battle, standing firm is crucial. How can you attack with power? Strength rises from the feet, flows through the body, and explodes outward. Only then can you unleash your full might. Remember this!”

Li Gan rose and said, “I’ll remember!”

“Go stand your post for two hours. I have words for Qin Cheng.” Li Guang tossed his robe to Li Gan and donned his own.

“Yes, sir.” Li Gan took the robe, glanced at Qin Cheng—perhaps a greeting—then went off to practice.

Qin Cheng bowed. “I greet the General. Your vigor is undiminished, your strength impressive. I am in awe!”

Li Guang laughed heartily. “Of course! A soldier’s body is paramount. Training in summer heat and winter chill—I dare not slacken. No matter how busy, you must never neglect martial training. On the battlefield, a commander must lead from the front.”

He laughed again, seeing Qin Cheng had no intent to talk further in the courtyard. “You’ve come to see me—surely for a reason. Come inside.”

Qin Cheng followed, getting straight to the point. “You must have heard about yesterday’s incident. After a day and night of investigation, I’ve uncovered some clues, but the identity of those behind Zhang Shiyou and the others remains uncertain. I came urgently today to hear your opinion.”

Li Guang sat, stroking his beard. “Truth is, I arrived in Shanggu only after the siege of Mayi, less than two years ago. I don’t know all the officers deeply; it’s hard to say who is most suspect. No one’s behavior stands out. This needs thorough investigation.”

“Is there anyone in the Prefect’s office who knows these matters well and can be trusted?” Qin Cheng pressed, for this was his true purpose in coming.

“You might ask Clerk Zhang Du—he’s been here long, served in the camp, and now oversees camp funds. He should know the officers well,” Li Guang replied.

“Zhang Du?” Qin Cheng’s heart brightened—he had some acquaintance with Zhang Du, so he wouldn’t be brushed off. Rising, he said, “Then I’ll go find Clerk Zhang.”

“Very well. I’ll send someone to guide you, so he’ll take the matter seriously.” Li Guang instructed a servant to take Qin Cheng to Zhang Du.

“Qin Cheng, it’s been a while! How are you? I heard you’ve been appointed Cavalry Captain by His Majesty, commanding the camp’s cavalry. I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you yet!” Zhang Du greeted him warmly. “Since you’ve come to town, you must let me treat you to wine, or I won’t let you off!”

“If you wish to drink, how could I refuse?” Qin Cheng replied. “But I’ve come urgently for important business. Let’s postpone the wine until the matter is settled—how does that sound?”

“Business? What brings you to me?” Zhang Du saw Qin Cheng’s serious expression and, noting the servant from Li Guang, grew solemn.

Qin Cheng dismissed the servant and quietly explained the situation.

“I see. Let me think.” Zhang Du’s expression grew grave.

“There is someone who comes to mind,” Zhang Du mused. “Last night, I returned late and happened to see someone slip into the office, seeking the Chief Clerk. They seemed to be plotting something. I only overheard words about causing trouble at the drill ground—perhaps the person you’re seeking.” He hesitated, unsure whether to continue.

“Who was it?” Qin Cheng asked.

“Captain of the chariot troops, Kong Zhengfang,” Zhang Du said.

“Kong Zhengfang? He sought the Chief Clerk?” Qin Cheng frowned, then relaxed. “Kong Zhengfang aside—I’ve already made plans for him. Anyone else?”

“No, no one else,” Zhang Du replied.

“Are you certain?” Qin Cheng pressed. “This is a grave matter; anyone even remotely suspicious cannot be overlooked.”

Zhang Du pondered for a moment, then affirmed, “There really isn’t anyone else. Besides, I don’t meddle much in camp affairs; I can’t be sure. Why not ask the officers yourself?”

“If I could, I would. But I fear alarming them, so I came to investigate quietly. Since you don’t know, I’ll return to the General.” Qin Cheng rose, bowing. “Sorry to trouble you. The wine will have to wait—I must resolve this quickly.”

“No matter, business comes first,” Zhang Du replied.

“Very well, I’ll take my leave!” Qin Cheng turned to go, but as he reached the door, Zhang Du called after him.

“Wait, Qin Cheng—there’s someone else I almost forgot!”

…

Qin Cheng returned to camp before noon. The drill for chariot and infantry was still underway. Qin Qingzhi patrolled the grounds, with Li Hu and Liu Mu assisting. Nothing untoward had happened all morning.

The cavalry captains Ji Zhu, Ma Dashan, and Zhao Lu were on the field, along with two captains of the infantry. After yesterday’s disturbance, all were present to prevent further incidents that might implicate them.

When Qin Cheng arrived, Ji Zhu, Ma Dashan, and Zhao Lu were gathered together. Seeing him, they came to greet him.

“Yesterday’s trouble required you three to supervise today. You’ve worked hard,” Qin Cheng said.

“It’s our duty; how could we complain?” they replied.

“Developing the cavalry means breaking old rules and establishing new ones—conflict is inevitable. But if we work together, we can overcome difficulties. Once the cavalry is formed, we’ll strike deep into the desert and crush the Xiongnu!” Qin Cheng declared.

After a few words, Ma Dashan spoke in his booming voice, “General Qin, you say this and my heart feels lighter. We captains are here as required, but Captain Kong Zhengfang is nowhere to be seen! Yesterday’s trouble came from his unit, and today he’s absent. I don’t mean to criticize a comrade, but such conduct is unacceptable. I hope you investigate!”

Qin Cheng laughed, admiring Ma Dashan’s candor. “No need to be upset, Captain Ma. Captain Kong was called away by the General for other matters; he’s not in camp. I neglected to inform everyone—my oversight.”

“So that’s it. Then I have nothing more to say!” Ma Dashan nodded, pausing before adding, “General Qin, is the General punishing Captain Kong for yesterday’s incident? If so, I hope you’ll speak for him—he didn’t know what was happening, after all!”

Qin Cheng laughed heartily, clapping Ma Dashan’s shoulder. “You are truly a man of character—I admire you!”

As he spoke, Qin Cheng watched Ji Zhu and Zhao Lu’s expressions. Ji Zhu was calm, and Zhao Lu showed no reaction. Qin Cheng sneered inwardly, wondering how long they could keep up their facade.

That day, the chariot and infantry drills concluded. Of three to four thousand men, fifteen hundred met the new cavalry standards—enough for three companies. This allowed a ratio of one instructor to three recruits. Qin Cheng showed no outward satisfaction or dissatisfaction, for he and the cavalry captains had set the standards, and he already knew what to expect. These fifteen hundred recruits would soon form a powerful force, and with five hundred excellent instructors, they would become the elite cavalry of Qiansang City’s camp—the foundation for Qin Cheng’s ambitions in this era.

This iron cavalry would be his strength, his safeguard, and the guarantee of his achievements.

With the recruits chosen, subsequent steps could proceed. Qin Cheng took the opportunity to rally the troops, then ordered all new cavalrymen to move into their new barracks the next day. From then on, their identity would change—they would no longer be chariot infantry, but cavalry soldiers of the new camp.

Thus, the development of the cavalry entered its second phase, marking the beginning of a new era. For those forces seeking to hinder the cavalry’s progress in Shanggu, time was running out.

That night, Qin Qingzhi donned light gear and set out to fulfill a perilous mission assigned by Qin Cheng. Before his departure, Qin Cheng made it clear: if successful, the development of the cavalry would be secured; if he failed, his life would end here.

Qin Qingzhi nodded fiercely, his expression resolute. He knew that if he succeeded, he would rise with Qin Cheng; if he failed, at least he would have fought bravely.

Once Qin Qingzhi disappeared into the night, Qin Cheng summoned another lightly armed soldier—Liu Mu—from the tent. With a nod, Liu Mu silently followed Qin Qingzhi’s path.

After Liu Mu and Qin Qingzhi departed, Qin Cheng returned to his tent, sat at his desk, and spent the night reading military texts by candlelight, never leaving the tent.

At dawn, Liu Mu entered the tent, and the sleepless Qin Cheng rushed over to support the exhausted Liu Mu.

Liu Mu managed to steady himself, giving Qin Cheng a confirming look. Qin Cheng exhaled deeply, but just then, Liu Mu suddenly pushed Qin Cheng aside, his face momentarily awkward. Seeing Qin Cheng’s confusion, he said, “Captain Qin was captured.”

Qin Cheng nodded gravely, stepped outside, and called, “Men!”

“Here!” came a resounding reply—Li Hu appeared, followed by nearly a hundred sturdy soldiers, all saluting.

Qin Cheng glanced at Liu Mu, saw his breathing had stabilized, and decisively ordered, “Move out!”

“Yes, sir!” Liu Mu, Li Hu, and the others responded in unison, setting off together.

Once they departed, Qin Cheng returned to his tent. Not long after, as daylight brightened, a guard brought a middle-aged man to Qin Cheng’s tent, saying he had urgent family news. Hearing this, Qin Cheng came out to meet him.

The man, dressed in humble homespun, rushed forward in distress. “Qin Cheng, your sister is gravely ill—her life hangs by a thread. She longs to see you one last time!”

“Brother Wang, is this true?” Qin Cheng’s expression turned anxious—he recognized this man as Wang Xiao’er, a neighbor who had watched him grow up.

“It’s absolutely true. If you don’t—