The viewing platform wasn't high or large.
A row of chairs was arranged, seating at most ten or so people. In Chang'an, the capital of the Sui Dynasty, with the Emperor and Empress absent, the person seated in the center was naturally Prince Yi, Yang Yin. And the old man dressed in plain clothes, sitting so close to Prince Yi in the middle, could only be Zhou Banchuan, the Dean of the Martial Arts Academy.
However, on such an important occasion, concerning the ranking of the top three students of this year's Martial Arts Academy, just before the final competition, Dean Zhou was sound asleep in his chair.
Not only was he sleeping soundly, but there was also drool at the corner of his mouth.
Prince Yi asked if it could begin, and only after receiving no reply did he realize that Dean Zhou, whose prestige in the Sui army was unmatched, was actually having a rendezvous with his own kinsman, Duke Zhou. With a helpless smile, Prince Yi, Yang Yin, ordered someone to bring his cloak and personally covered Dean Zhou with it. This seemingly simple gesture actually carries two meanings:
First, it expresses respect for Dean Zhou.
Second, it's time for him to wake up.
Unfortunately, Dean Zhou, seemingly oblivious to whether he was sixty, seventy, or eighty, showed no sign of waking. His drool, glistening in the sunlight, stretched into a thin line at the corner of his mouth, hardly displaying the dignified bearing expected of the Dean of the Martial Arts Academy.
Without Dean Zhou waking, the final assessment could not begin.
Therefore, on the viewing platform, a prince, a second-rank official, and six or seven third- and fourth-rank officials could only watch helplessly, waiting quietly, each forced to maintain a respectful demeanor, not even daring to speak loudly.
Seated below the viewing platform were the professors of the Martial Arts Academy and the generals of the Emperor's Six Armies stationed in Chang'an. They were not surprised by the scene, especially the professors, who were already accustomed to it. In fact, at every martial arts academy meeting, Dean Zhou spent most of the time sleeping and a small portion daydreaming.
After waiting a while and seeing that Dean Zhou hadn't woken up, Prince Yi, Yang Yin, somewhat bored, stood up and stretched. Looking at the four beautiful women behind him, he suddenly said, unexpectedly, "Why don't you all dance a little to lighten the mood?"
The others immediately paled, fearing that this esteemed prince would turn such a solemn occasion into a dance performance. Fortunately, Prince Yi himself was aware of this. Before anyone could dissuade him, he smiled and said, "I was just joking around because I was bored sitting here."
Everyone present breathed a sigh of relief.
One unreliable dean was enough; what if another unreliable prince came along…
General Xu Xiaogong of the Right Guard, who had also come to watch the competition on the Emperor's orders, was the most composed and calm among them all. He sat upright in his chair, his upper body ramrod straight. Head slightly bowed, eyes downcast, seemingly lost in meditation, this veteran general, well into his fifties, was a former subordinate of Dean Zhou. Naturally, he wouldn't dare disturb Dean Zhou's nap at this hour.
Among the Emperor's six armies, General Xu Xiaogong of the Right Guard was the second oldest. He had just celebrated his fifty-third birthday a few days prior, receiving a folding fan personally inscribed by the Emperor. Xu Xiaogong was quite unique among the sixteen guards of the Sui Dynasty. He had never fought a single earth-shattering battle, nor had he achieved any feats worthy of a prominent place in history.
Some had disdainfully remarked that Xu Xiaogong was the most incompetent of the sixteen generals. His position was attributed to three reasons: seniority, integrity, and a good family background. He initially joined the army as a scout under Zhou Banchuan. For thirty years, his official career had been steady and uneventful, without any major ups and downs. It took him thirty years to rise to the rank of Grand General; it certainly wasn't a meteoric rise.
Yet, it was precisely this man who seemed to be highly regarded by His Majesty the Emperor.
Of the sixteen guards of the Sui Dynasty—sixteen Grand Generals, sixteen generals, dozens of junior officers, plus twenty-four regional governors—none of these military giants and powerful officials received a birthday gift from His Majesty.
Prince Yi glanced at Xu Xiaogong, who was resting with his eyes closed, and cursed him inwardly as an old fox. He smiled, walked to Xu Xiaogong's side, and whispered something in his ear. The voice was too soft for Xu Xiaogong to hear. He had to open his eyes and ask, "Your Highness, what did you just say?"
Yang Yin whispered, "Don't pretend. Only you know how to wake Dean Zhou up."
Xu Xiaogong gave a wry smile and could only lower his voice to say it again. Yang Yin was somewhat incredulous and couldn't help but ask again. Xu Xiaogong nodded firmly. Yang Yin straightened up, hesitated for a moment, and tentatively said, "Bring up the playing cards. I want to play a few rounds with you gentlemen."
As soon as he finished speaking, Dean Zhou immediately opened his eyes and asked, "One short? Count me in!"
He glanced around and, seeing that the officials were all looking down at each other, immediately understood. The professors sitting below couldn't help but laugh. Everyone in the Martial Arts Academy knew that Dean Zhou loved playing cards, and his luck was terrible. He lost every time he played, and when he lost, he would renege on his bets.
So much so that when the professors at the Martial Arts Academy wanted to play cards in their spare time, they had to be like spies. But as soon as someone mentioned the words "playing cards," Dean Zhou would inevitably appear.
Seeing that Dean Zhou was awake, Yang Yin secretly gave Xu Xiaogong a thumbs up.
Xu Xiaogong secretly glanced at Dean Zhou, who was glaring at him, and looked embarrassed.
"Begin, begin..."
Dean Zhou wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth, casually waving his hand at the three young generals standing side by side below. "Fight as you see fit. The garrison at Tu City is two thousand, but I'm only giving each of you five hundred soldiers. Whoever captures it first is the champion. Second and third place are irrelevant; they're useless anyway."
"Five hundred?"
Yu Xiao, Luo Wen, and Li Fubo repeated in unison, their faces filled with astonishment.
The three exchanged glances, none daring to ask.
Wasn't it agreed that each would have a thousand soldiers? How did Dean Zhou reduce it to five hundred after just one nap? They naturally didn't know that the reduction in troops was because Dean Zhou's dream had been disturbed, and he was in a bad mood.
...
...
Because the capital was so vast, by the time Fang Jie's carriage left the city gates and headed straight for the training ground along the main road, it was nearly noon. The official was thoughtful; he had even prepared food in the carriage. Although they were just snacks, they were a godsend for Fang Jie, who hadn't had breakfast yet.
The official, though he hadn't taken Fang Jie's silver note, didn't seem displeased. After offering Fang Jie some food, he thought for a moment and then instructed, "When you get there, don't ask too many questions. Just follow the directions given to you by the person waiting for you. If you get scolded for talking too much, don't say I didn't warn you."
Fang Jie responded, then pulled the silver note out of his sleeve again and stuffed it into the official's hand: "These snacks are really delicious, but unfortunately, I'm new to the capital and don't know where to buy them. If you have time to buy some, please remember to bring some back for me. Thank you."
The official hesitated for a moment, but ultimately took the silver note: "I'll buy it and deliver it to your residence."
As he said this, a fleeting hint of pity and regret flashed in his eyes.
The official carefully put away the silver note, muttering to himself, "Don't blame me, I had no choice in this. I'll buy some snacks and paper money for the dead and place them at your grave later."
Although it was their first meeting, he felt no ill will towards the clean-cut, handsome young man.
But besides inwardly lamenting his misfortune, there was nothing else he could do.
The carriage swayed for another half hour before finally arriving outside the martial arts arena. A man in black robes was already waiting at the gate. After Fang Jie alighted, the man in black robes glanced at him and coldly asked, "Are you Fang Jie?"
Fang Jie nodded in acknowledgment, and the man turned and went inside. Fang Jie quickly followed, instinctively gripping the rusty, broken knife at his waist.
The man in black robes whispered a few words to the guard at the gate, who glanced at Fang Jie and then let him through. Following behind the man in black robes, Fang Jie constantly surveyed the terrain of the training ground.
The Great Sui Dynasty dominated the Central Plains, its military might unmatched. Whatever the source of this pride, the Sui emperors and court displayed a common characteristic in many aspects: grandeur. From architecture to clothing, everything exuded a sense of grandeur.
The capital, Chang'an, was the most powerful testament to this.
And the training ground showcased this grandeur to its fullest extent. It wasn't just a flat, expansive training ground or a four-mile-long earthen wall; it encompassed almost every type of terrain, even including a man-made earthen hill. Rivers, lakes, dense forests, and grasslands were all present.
These scenes filled Fang Jie with awe.
"Just follow this path, go through the small gate you see. The earthen city is directly south of the wall. It's not far to the viewing platform; the officials who want to see you are there. I can't enter without military orders, so you'll have to go by yourself."
The man in black stopped and explained to Fang Jie, "After the officials have finished their questions, return the way you came. Don't disturb the competition between the top three in the martial arts academy."
"Yes, sir."
Fang Jie responded, straightened his clothes, and walked forward.
"Wait."
The man suddenly called Fang Jie back, pointing to the broken sword on Fang Jie's belt, saying, "You are not allowed to bring weapons inside."
Fang Jie was silent for a moment, then said seriously, "The border soldiers of the Great Sui Dynasty never let go of their swords. Even when going to court, they don't remove their swords unless ordered by the Emperor."
The man paused slightly, muttering under his breath, "Bringing a sword is good; with a sword in hand, death is quicker." He waved his hand, seemingly too lazy to pay any more attention. But because he didn't insist, the wariness in Fang Jie's eyes grew stronger. He slowly walked to the small door, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.
He had barely pushed open the door and squeezed inside when
a knife suddenly appeared in front of Fang Jie's neck.
Fang Jie didn't dare move, but instead said, "I'm here on orders to ask when lunch will be delivered."
This was a stupid question, but it would definitely work.
Just as the man was stunned, Fang Jie looked at the scene before him.
There was no viewing platform at all; in front of him was a military camp!
And the one who had swiftly presented the knife to Fang Jie was a soldier dressed in the black leather armor and dark blue uniform of the Sui Dynasty. This small door didn't lead to a viewing platform at all, but to the camp of one of the three rising stars from the martial arts academy participating in the competition! Fang Jie instantly realized that the black-robed man who had brought him here had deliberately given him the wrong directions. The man said the observation platform was to the north and the earthen city to the south, but the truth was the opposite.
The observation platform was actually on the other side of the earthen city.
In other words, separated by an earthen city four miles long and wide, he couldn't see the observation platform, and those on the platform couldn't possibly see him. Therefore, if he died here, it wouldn't attract the attention of those important figures.
It was in this instant that Fang Jie finally understood how he had been tricked.
Just as he was about to take advantage of the soldier's momentary hesitation to leave, a creak sounded from behind, and the door was slammed shut, followed by the clanking of chains—it had clearly been locked from the outside.
Just as Fang Jie was beginning to understand what was happening, the soldier's knife suddenly moved, the sharp blade already at Fang Jie's throat. He could even feel the coldness of the blade. The knife was a standard-issue horizontal sword of the Sui Dynasty; Fang Jie had no doubt that if the soldier's wrist moved forward, blood would gushed from his carotid artery like a waterfall.
The situation is extremely critical!