"My dear Fugui, what can I say about you?"
Inside a grand training ground in the Yan Palace, Murong Tengge was personally tending to Zhou Fugui's horse while lamenting, "I always thought you were a mature young man, someone who understood forbearance and the wisdom of enduring temporary insults. But you? It was just dancing, wasn't it? You could have just danced a little and it would have been fine. Why did you have to do this? Now, do you even know who General Pu Yijian of the Left Guard is? Ah, I, I..."
Murong Tengge grumbled, shaking his head with extreme regret, believing Zhou Fugui had already one foot in the grave.
In reality, the situation was dire. Zhou Fugui's chances of survival in this duel were slim to none.
"General Pu Yijian of the Left Guard? He's still a man, isn't he? Not a celestial being or a demon from the netherworld!" Zhou Fugui said calmly, meticulously wiping down his modified Zhuoyue bow with a silk cloth. "Thank you, my lord, but a scholar can be executed, not humiliated. If I am to commit such dishonorable acts, I would rather die."
Although Murong Tengge was somewhat foolish, and his military command was mediocre, he had inexplicably ordered Zhou Fugui, Arbugu, and Balhu to advance to Luyi to resist the enemy, resulting in Zhou Fugui losing over a thousand men. Yet, Zhou Fugui knew of his kindness and always cherished it.
"Well said!" Murong Chi, the elder brother of Murong Huiying and a general of the Huliang, arrived in a hurry and happened to overhear Zhou Fugui's words. He exclaimed, giving Zhou Fugui a thumbs-up, "A true son of our grasslands! Better to die than be disgraced!"
*I'm not a barbarian,* Zhou Fugui mused inwardly before cupping his fist in salute. "Your subordinate, Zhou Fugui, pays his respects to the Crown Prince!"
"Ah, when one is on the brink of death, why bother with such formalities?" Murong Chi pressed Zhou Fugui's arm and said, "Fugui, your brother is here to give you a few pointers. Pay attention to the old fellow from the Left Guard's consecutive arrows and returning arrows."
Seeing as his younger sister had taken a liking to Zhou Fugui, Murong Chi now considered himself a brother-in-law. And anyone who married a woman from the grasslands became a man of the grasslands.
"Consecutive arrows and returning arrows?" Zhou Fugui pondered Murong Chi's words carefully.
"Mm..." Murong Chi nodded and continued, "Ziyue asked me to tell you, if you can't win, run. She has a way to ensure your safety."
"Princess Ziyue?" Zhou Fugui smiled faintly upon hearing this and said, "Please trouble the Crown Prince to relay a message to her. If anything were to happen to me... I would trouble Princess Ziyue to look after my family."
"Mm, I understand," Murong Chi nodded.
"Dong... Dong... Dong..."
Just then, the war drums sounded, each beat more urgent than the last. Within three rounds of drumming, Zhou Fugui had to appear on the training ground, or he would be beheaded and displayed as a warning.
"Fugui..." Murong Tengge called out.
Zhou Fugui nodded, shouldered the quiver containing ten arrows, picked up the Zhuoyue bow, mounted his horse, and gently squeezed its belly. The black warhorse beneath him galloped towards the gate of the training ground.
Zhou Fugui turned back and cupped his hands to Murong Chi and Murong Tengge.
"Mm, go with peace of mind..." Murong Chi nodded. "After you leave, Ziyue... she will still get married. But she will always remember you."
In Murong Chi's eyes, Zhou Fugui was already a dead man.
Zhou Fugui almost fell off his horse upon hearing this.
...
"Dong... Dong... Dong..."
"Woo... Woo... Woo..."
"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!"
"Good, very good!"
"General of the Left Guard, kill that brat!"
"Young man, do not fear. To be able to face the General of the Left Guard is a fortune you have cultivated for lifetimes! You will be famous even in death!"
Inside the Yan Palace, on the training ground, drums beat, colorful banners fluttered, and horns blared, as if a major battle were at hand.
On the side of the training ground sat the Emperor of Yan, Murong Xi, the Empress Murong Qing, the Crown Prince Murong Cheng, along with a host of imperial relatives, royal family members, and high officials. The crowd was immense, a bustling scene of excitement.
Although the previous duels had been somewhat intense, they had been dull. Many had dozed off. Now, with the main event commencing – the duel between Yan's foremost divine archer, Pu Yijian, and the young upstart Zhou Fugui, a battle to the death – it had captured everyone's attention. Cheers and applause erupted.
"Father, why don't you stop it?" Princess Ziyue of Yan, Murong Huiying, anxiously clung to Murong Bole's arm and asked.
"Didn't I already tell you the reason? Yingying, why are you so flustered? You disappoint your father greatly!" Murong Bole glared at Murong Huiying and reprimanded her, looking at the training ground. "Whether Zhou Fu's fate is life or death is entirely up to heaven!"
*Good boy, daring to flirt with my daughter? It's best if he dies. He's not worth a tear,* Murong Bole sneered inwardly. But if this lad were to survive, what would happen next?
*This little girl is becoming more beautiful by the day,* Emperor Yan Murong Xi thought as he glanced at Murong Huiying, whose eyes were filled with tears.
"Dong... Dong... Dong..."
With two rounds of drums, a rider emerged from the vanguard and entered the training ground.
The rider was around forty years old, short and stout, with a large, round head, a broad face, high cheekbones, wide nostrils, a thick mustache, and only a small tuft of stiff beard below his chin. His long earlobes were pierced, adorned with earrings. He wore a fur-trimmed helm topped with three long goose feathers, and a golden-plated Mingguang armor. The large, oval plates on his chest and back covered his sturdy body, glinting in the sunlight. He held a three-stone dragon-scale strongbow, and atop a magnificent, dark-bay horse with a silver mane, he stood majestically in the center of the field.
This rider was Pu Yijian, the commander of the Yan Imperial Guard and General of the Left Guard.
"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!"
"General of the Left Guard is mighty!"
"To pit the General of the Left Guard against such a mere child is like using a butcher's knife to kill a chicken!"
"Why use a butcher's knife to kill a chicken?"
"Why don't you go up then?"
"Bah, it's an order from the Great Chieftain, what's it to me?"
"Afraid, are we? Just saying it's the Great Chieftain's order?"
"Place your bets, place your bets! Bet now!"
"Haha, you old fool! Of course, you bet on the General of the Left Guard to win. Would you bet on some unknown country bumpkin? That bumpkin hasn't even emerged from the vanguard yet, is he too scared?"
"You young sprout who hasn't even grown his first beard, I, an old man, will take a risk and bet on Zhou Fu's victory!"
"May you lose all your money, you old hag!"
"Bang!"
"Ouch!"
"..."
General Pu Yijian of the Left Guard stood imposingly, eliciting wild cheers from the crowd that were deafening. Simultaneously, people, regardless of region, were fond of gambling, and thus, they placed their bets with money or possessions.
In the Yan imperial court, gambling was even more indulged in, with sums of thousands of gold coins wagered.
Some palace attendants were even utterly obsessed.
"Quick, tell me, who did you bet on to win?"
Prince Cheng of Yan also asked the eunuchs attending him with great excitement, rubbing his hands.
"Your Highness, of course, we bet on the General of the Left Guard to win." A young eunuch replied, "Who is the General of the Left Guard? He is the foremost divine archer of our Great Yan! Can he lose? That would be against all reason!"
"Makes sense!" Murong Cheng, his plump head bobbing, expressed his agreement.
"Your Highness..." An older eunuch said, "Eight or nine out of ten people in the field bet on the General of the Left Guard to win. If he wins, the winnings will be meager. Why not risk it and bet on Zhou Fugui to win!"
"Makes sense!" Murong Cheng's plump head bobbed again.
"The General of the Left Guard will surely win, and Zhou Fugui will surely lose! You old servant, do you want His Highness's money to go down the drain?"
"The affairs of the world are unpredictable. Only a little monkey like you dares to say 'sure to win' or 'sure to lose.' Wasting such a good opportunity, will you compensate His Highness for his losses?"
The eunuchs argued endlessly, almost coming to blows, leaving Murong Cheng hesitant.
"Mother..." Murong Yi, the eleven-year-old Prince of Ganquan, the second son of Emperor Yan Murong Xi, asked Empress Murong Qing, "Your child also wishes to place a bet. Who should I bet on?"
Murong Yi was Murong Qing's biological son.
"The person hasn't even appeared yet, why are you rushing?" Murong Qing replied with a slight smile.
If Zhou Fugui lacked the courage to come out of the vanguard to meet the challenge, the outcome was obvious. If he dared to fight, victory was not guaranteed, but it was worth a gamble.
"Hmph, someone, place a bet of a thousand gold pieces on Commander Zhou to win!"
The matter was unavoidable. Murong Huiying snorted coldly and instructed her subordinates.
"Sister Ziyue, are you so confident? Commander Zhou is that Zhou Fugui, isn't he? You believe he can definitely win?" Princess Murong Xiaoxiao of Yan, the eldest daughter of Emperor Yan Murong Xi, who was only fourteen years old, asked curiously upon seeing this.
Murong Xiaoxiao was born to the former Empress and had a sweet and lovely appearance.
"If I say he can, he can," Murong Huiying replied calmly and firmly.
"Oh..." Murong Xiaoxiao said upon hearing this and instructed her attendant maid, "Just like Princess Ziyue, place a bet of a thousand gold pieces on Commander Zhou to win!"
The two maids hurried to place their bets.
If Murong Xiaoxiao knew that Zhou Fugui was Murong Huiying's "lover"... one wonders what her reaction would be. Would she regret it immensely and beat her chest in anguish upon discovering the truth?
"Bole..." Murong Xi did not care whether a minuscule figure like Zhou Fugui lived or died. He had come to the training ground simply for entertainment, his mind elsewhere. He asked Murong Bole, "Is the Right Worthy King's health truly...?"
The Right Worthy King's serious illness was both a benefit and a detriment to Murong Xi. The benefit was the weakening of the Empress's faction; the detriment was the disruption of the Yan court's balance.
The Left Worthy King Murong Bole and the Right Worthy King Murong Wang were both Murong Xi's right-hand men. The struggle between them was beneficial to Murong Xi.
The art of checks and balances was a basic skill that every emperor should possess, and the Xianbei emperors were no exception.
Murong Bole nodded upon hearing this.