In the fourth watch of the night, Qingshui Camp was still shrouded in indigo darkness. Today marked the first day of the horse market’s opening. Before dawn, the guards at the eastern and southern gates were already fully deployed, meticulously verifying every individual entering the city in a flurry of activity.
The northern city wall was part of the Great Wall and had no gate, requiring only enhanced patrols at the beacon towers. The eastern gate was the usual point of entry and exit for foreigners, equipped with a walled city and secret doors. To prevent infiltration by external enemies, inspections were exceedingly stringent.
Outside the eastern gate lay the Qingshui River grasslands.
Hooves galloped swiftly, and dew scattered from the grass like rain. Su Yan, dressed in an elegant deep blue robe with cloud-patterned shoulders and trailing sleeves, exuded a refined yet slightly regal air. The gold-embroidered silk fabric added a touch of grandeur as he rode across the dewy meadow.
Thirteen riders halted in front of a large tent adorned with wolf tails and strings of green stone beads.
Dismounting, Su Yan instructed the Embroidered Uniform Guards, led by Chu Yuan, “Wait outside the tent. Ah Zhui, come with me.”
He then turned to Yan Chengxue and Huo Dun. “Both of you, follow me inside. Don’t forget—right now, you’re not Ministers, but two individuals who’ve made mistakes. Show the appropriate attitude.”
Yan Chengxue and Huo Dun were dressed plainly, devoid of their official robes and armor.
Su Yan had previously ordered them to remove their official attire and personally apologize to the aggrieved party. Yan Chengxue had been furious at the suggestion: “You want me to apologize to some barbarian? Have you lost your mind, Censor Su? Do you also bow and thank your food before eating beef and mutton?”
Su Yan, unfazed by the disrespect, replied calmly, “They’re not livestock. As long as they don’t bear a grudge of national enmity against the Ming Empire, they should be treated as people. Besides, the emperor himself dispatched an envoy to negotiate an anti-Tartar alliance with the Oirat tribes. Are you suggesting that His Majesty is bowing to cattle and sheep?”
Yan Chengxue, rendered speechless, begrudgingly saluted toward the capital and muttered, “Your servant dares not.”
“Since you’ve publicly declared allegiance, act accordingly.”
“I am, after all, an official of the Ming Empire… My personal humiliation is minor, but insulting the nation’s dignity is significant. I implore Censor Su to reconsider!”
Su Yan sneered. “One who insults others will be insulted in turn. Or are you suggesting you’d rather resign your post, become a commoner, and then apologize without harming national dignity?”
Before Yan Chengxue could respond, Huo Dun, fearing he’d provoke Su Yan into actually stripping him of his title, quickly tugged his sleeve and said, “Lord Yan means no disrespect to Lord Su. His aloof nature makes him blunt in speech—please be understanding.”
Su Yan thought: Nonsense. Ah Zhui barely qualifies as aloof; your man is narrow-minded and prickly.
Out of deference to Huo Dun, Yan Chengxue reluctantly kept quiet, though his expression was akin to attending a funeral.
Standing before the tent now, his face was as dark as if he were mourning a loved one, while Huo Dun remained composed. He bore no personal grudge against Aletan, having fought only to capture rather than kill, even relishing the martial challenge. He understood that Yan’s pride would never allow him to apologize verbally to a “barbarian,” so he braced himself to mediate.
As Su Yan led the group to the tent, the flap was lifted before they could announce their presence.
Aletan emerged, his curly hair cascading to his shoulders, interwoven with small gold beads. He wore a fresh gray-blue robe, its collar and cuffs adorned with intricate geometric patterns. His broad leather belt, with a golden beast-head buckle, held a pouch and flint, while his boots of fragrant cowhide completed the meticulous attire.
He stood tall and broad like a deity at the entrance of the tent, his expansive chest directly in front of Su Yan’s face.
Su Yan looked up at him, struck by a mix of admiration and pressure. He almost blurted out, Big brother, Heaven takes from the surplus to give to the lacking. Could you spare me ten centimeters of height?
Aletan was also studying Su Yan, who was dressed in a flowing yesa robe, and a smile crept onto his face. “You look good in our Zhizun robe. It suits you.”
The yesa, originally designed by the northern desert tribes, was called Zhisun in both Tatar and Oirat languages. It was introduced to the Central Plains during the Yuan dynasty and became widely popular in the Ming dynasty for its practicality in archery and riding. Over time, it was refined with Han-style patterns and designs, evolving into today’s elegant long robes with pipa sleeves and pleated skirts.
Compared to the baggy Taoist robes or straight tunics, Su Yan preferred the mobility of the yesa. He smiled and replied, “It shows off my figure.”
Aletan laughed heartily and reached out to drape an arm around Su Yan’s shoulder, intending to lead him into the tent.
Jinghong Zhui’s gaze turned cold. He grabbed Aletan’s wrist, forcing him to let go. Aletan looked back at Jinghong Zhui with a challenging smirk, raising an eyebrow.
The two men—one determined to put his arm around Su Yan, the other equally insistent he didn’t—clashed silently. Internal energy surged through their fingers, wrists, and arms, restrained to avoid harming Su Yan, as they wrestled in a subtle tug-of-war.
Su Yan heard the cracking of joints near his shoulder. Bewildered, he glanced left and right at the two men. Suddenly, an idea came to him, reminiscent of his college days when roommates would sling arms around each other after soccer practice, heading to the cafeteria. Inspired, he also threw an arm around Jinghong Zhui’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go! Together.”
Thus, the three men entered the tent shoulder-to-shoulder. Behind them, Yan Chengxue and Huo Dun followed, looking utterly stunned.
…Walking shoulder-to-shoulder with barbarians? What a disgrace! Yan Chengxue fumed inwardly. Could it be that this Su brat is truly colluding with the barbarians to humiliate and suppress us on their behalf?
Fuming, he turned to leave, but Huo Dun quickly grabbed him and whispered, “Just bear with it and get through this. Later, we can report him. Revenge can wait for three years, can’t it?”
Yan Chengxue reluctantly swallowed his anger and allowed himself to be dragged into the tent.
In one corner of the tent, a large pot of food was boiling, and the rich aroma of milk filled the air. Aletan gestured for Su Yan to sit on a low couch. Su Yan pulled Jinghong Zhui to sit cross-legged beside him on a soft mat.
Yan Chengxue, who loathed the smell of dairy, nearly passed out from the stench. He pinched his nose and held his breath, wishing he could stop breathing altogether. His original plan had been to refuse any apologies, but now he felt that if it meant escaping the smell even a second sooner, he might as well apologize.
Huo Dun was the first to speak, clasping his fists toward Aletan. “It was my fault last night to act hastily and attack without understanding the situation. I hope you can forgive my offense.” He then subtly tugged at his companion’s sleeve.
Yan Chengxue held his breath, his pale face turning red. He awkwardly clasped his hands and muttered a quick, “Sorry,” before storming out of the tent.
Huo Dun gave Su Yan an apologetic smile.
Su Yan sighed and said to Aletan, “I know their apologies are insincere and full of reluctance, but this is the best I can do. Whether you forgive them or not is up to you.”
“Forget it,” Aletan said, not sparing Yan Chengxue or Huo Dun a glance. “But I’m not forgiving them. Just letting it go.”
Su Yan nodded. “I understand.”
Worried about Yan Chengxue’s safety, Huo Dun excused himself and left.
Aletan clapped the low table and stood up. “Forget those buzzkills. Let me treat you to some pot tea.” He walked over to the corner and lifted the pot lid. Dried meat, cheese, and milk skin simmered in rich milk tea, releasing a mouthwatering aroma.
Su Yan, who had loved cheesy hotpots in his previous life, had no issues with the smell. He clapped his hands and smiled. “Perfect timing. We skipped breakfast and came on an empty stomach.”
Aletan poured three large bowls and brought them to the table.
The roasted grains and cheese softened beautifully in the milk tea, creating a rich and delicious texture. The three of them sat around the table, eating with spoons.
Su Yan ate gracefully but ignored the Confucian edict of “not speaking while eating.” As he ate, he asked, “What’s the price per horse for this batch?”
“I already told you—100 jin of tea leaves per horse,” Aletan replied.
“I’ll take them all. Wholesale rate. Can you give me a discount?”
“…The price is firm. No discount.”
Su Yan, still smiling, bit into a piece of cheese. “Come on, just a little discount. Buyers feel better when they get a deal. Selling individually would take you ages, bargaining with each buyer. Isn’t your time precious, my friend?”
Aletan raised an eyebrow. “Friend… Fine, but as the saying goes, ‘Even among brothers, accounts must be clear.’”
“And another saying: ‘Small profits lead to big sales.’ Selling wholesale to the Ming government means no haggling, no after-sales trouble, and payment on time. I’ll even inspect the tea quality for you. It’s a win-win.”
Aletan sighed, putting his bowl down. “Fine, 95 jin. Not a leaf less. Any less, and it’ll affect my training task evaluation.”
“Training task?” Su Yan asked, intrigued. “Who assigned it?”
“My Ro… Father…and the tribal elders.”
“One question I’ve been curious about—how old are you? Why does the tribe still assign you tasks?”
“Nineteen,” Aletan replied.
Su Yan studied him with some surprise, thinking, You’d never be able to tell! He was certainly young, but honestly, nineteen didn’t look all that different from twenty-nine.
However, he had heard that life in the Northern Desert tribes was harsh—boys barely past ten were already hunting wolves and fighting tigers. Having endured such hardships, they matured early but aged slowly. Who knew? Maybe in twenty years, when Aletan was thirty-nine, he’d still look exactly the same.
Aletan chuckled. “You couldn’t tell? But I can—you’re only fifteen or sixteen, aren’t you? Even younger than my little brother.”
“I’m seventeen!” Su Yan scoffed, thinking, I’ve lived two lifetimes, adding up to forty years—you should be calling me uncle.
Aletan reached out and tapped him lightly on the forehead. “Still younger than me.”
Jinghong Zhui cleared his throat, reminding the two, “Weren’t we negotiating? Stick to the point, no distractions.” What was this about being seventeen or nineteen? A chance meeting, purely business—why delve into personal details? It wasn’t like they were sworn brothers!
Su Yan immediately returned to the matter at hand, “Eighty jin?”
“No, ninety-five.”
“How about a compromise, eighty-five?”
“It’s already discounted to ninety-five.”
Su Yan, slightly annoyed, slapped the table, causing the empty bowls to clatter. “Calling ninety-five jin a discount? Show some sincerity, boss! At least drop it to ninety! Are you a man or not? Be decisive—ninety, and that’s final. Don’t drag this out!”
A helpless smile spread across Aletan’s face, his brow showing a trace of resignation, but he said nothing.
“Ninety jin of tea per horse, and I’ll top it off with an additional one thousand yin of salt. Deal?” Su Yan growled. “If not, we’ll walk away. No fate ties us together; it’s my money keeping us in talks. If this deal falls through, don’t expect me to return as a repeat customer. We’ll be strangers passing each other by.”
Jinghong Zhui thought that walking away sounded just fine—they were strangers, after all—and promptly stood up, preparing to drag Su Yan out.
Aletan instinctively touched the green bamboo hair tie wound around his left wrist, sighed in surrender, and said, “Deal.”
Su Yan exhaled in satisfaction.
The batch of horses Aletan had brought were all top-quality stallions. Even at one hundred jin of tea per horse, they were reasonably priced, and at ninety jin, they were a bargain. The thousand yin of salt was merely a sweetener, the market value being equivalent to ten good horses. Besides, Lingzhou was a major salt-producing area; while salt was scarce in the northern plains, it was commonplace here.
Noticing Aletan’s expression, Su Yan felt a bit sheepish. He chuckled awkwardly and offered, “How about this: I’ll buy every horse you have, not leaving even the transport ones. I’ll provide cargo horses for free on my side and send a team to escort the tea and salt to the Oirat.”
Aletan thought: This Su Yan certainly knows how to strike a deal! Even if we used some of our less desirable horses for transport, they’d still outclass the emaciated nags used by the Ming officials. And he’s offering them to us for free? Ridiculous—it would ruin our breeding stock!
But aloud, he said, “I appreciate the gesture. Would you consider accompanying the shipment? Our tribe is nestled at the foot of the Altai Foothills, along the Selenge River. The landscape is rich and beautiful—well worth seeing.”
Su Yan was interested in the idea of foreign travel, but with his current responsibilities, he couldn’t afford the time to visit the grasslands. He declined politely, “Perhaps in the future when I have more time.”
Aletan appeared regretful but didn’t press the matter. His expression turned serious. “Now, could you tell me your true identity?”
Su Yan straightened his clothes, rose to his feet, and formally introduced himself. “Su Yan, courtesy name Qinghe. A second-class Jinshi in this year’s imperial examination, currently serving as a Supervising Censor and Inspector of Shaanxi Province.”
Aletan stared at him, stunned. “So, you’re an official after all.”
“You once said that you didn’t trust any Ming officials. Now, can I be considered trustworthy?”
“….That depends on the matter. If it doesn’t concern the interests of both nations, I’ll regard you as a trustworthy friend.”
“Likewise,” Su Yan replied with a smile.
“There’s another matter I need your help with,” Su Yan said before leaving. “Have you heard of the name ‘Wuhalang’?”
The name had come up during Su Yan’s investigation. Among the surviving Embroidered Uniform Guard, one named Huang Liji had a remarkable memory and was fluent in the languages of various northern tribes. Su Yan had asked him what the Tatars had been shouting during the encounter at Hengliangzi Town.
Huang had hesitated before revealing that the Tatars had mistaken Su Yan for a pale-skinned beauty and mentioned offering their spoils—women and supplies—to someone called “Wuhalang.”
Su Yan had also asked Huo Dun, but he’d never encountered such a name in battle, suggesting it wasn’t a Tatar general. This left Su Yan pinning his hopes on Aletan’s knowledge of the northern tribes, especially their rivals.
True to expectation, Aletan frowned in disdain upon hearing the name. “How did you come across him? Wuhalang is the youngest son of Tatar Taishi Tuohuotai—a good-for-nothing. He’s fond of hunting and especially covets Central Plains women. His reputation for cruelty precedes him, even among the tribes.”
“Where has he been active recently?” Su Yan asked.
“I’m not sure,” Aletan replied. “I left my tribe two months ago, avoiding Tatar territory. I entered Ming lands last month and haven’t inquired about his movements.”
After thanking Aletan, Su Yan rose to take his leave.
As Aletan escorted him to the tent’s entrance, he couldn’t resist asking, “How long will you stay in Qingshui Camp?”
Su Yan smiled. “Longer than you. Once the deal with the government is finalized and the goods are exchanged, you’ll be on your way home, won’t you?”
Aletan nodded, adding, “I’ll stay a few extra days to witness the grandeur of the horse market. After it ends, I’ll depart.”
“I hope to return to the capital by year’s end,” Su Yan said wistfully, gazing toward the direction of the Ming capital.
He knew that reforming the horse trade was an enormous undertaking. Establishing a well-functioning official livestock system would take years to complete. Even if he could lay the groundwork and select competent successors, the current disarray would take at least a year or two to untangle.
He missed the capital.
Strangely, the Ming capital had become his second “home” in this era—a place he longed for and dreamed of returning to. Not because of the three-entry courtyard he once owned, but because of the people he cared about who lived there.
“The Ming capital…” Aletan gazed at the distant mountains, trying to picture the grand and mysterious city of the Son of Heaven. His expression was wistful as he recited, “‘Heaven’s mandate illumines its glory, its rivers and mountains honor the imperial city. Heaven and earth embrace all nations; the sun and moon shine upon all life.’ What kind of city must it be?”
“Rumor has it that in the past, the Jin Emperor Wanyan Liang, upon hearing Liu Yong’s poem, ‘Three autumns of osmanthus, ten miles of lotus blooms’ in Wang Hai Chao (Watching the Tides), was so inspired that he vowed to cross the Yangtze River. He even composed his own lines:
‘A thousand miles, one unified land,
Can Jiangnan remain separate?
Commanding troops of a million by West Lake,
Standing atop the first peak of Wu Mountain!’
Declaring his ambition to seize the Central Plains and claim its bountiful lands for himself.”
Su Yan, half-joking, half-warning, remarked, “Now even a young horse merchant from the Oirat tribe can recite poetry describing our nation’s capital. Surely your tribe doesn’t harbor ambitions of breaching our gates?”
Aletan turned back and replied, “Brother Su, you’re joking. I only admire the culture of the Central Plains; there’s nothing more to it. Besides, when it comes to matters of state, how could a mere horse merchant concern himself?”
Su Yan thought to himself, As if I’d believe that. With your attire and demeanor, at the very least, you’re a noble—possibly even a member of the Oirat leadership.
On the surface, however, he remained calm: “Just a jest, don’t take it seriously. Farewell now—no need to see me off.”
Su Yan mounted his horse and rode away, surrounded by his guards. Aletan watched him leave, gently stroking the silk ribbon on his arm, and sighed inwardly: Why must you be an official of the Ming?
—
Huo Dun, worried that Yan Chengxue might encounter retaliation from the Oirat people he had antagonized, hurried out of the tent, scanning the area.
He quickly spotted Yan Chengxue standing on a nearby grassy slope, arms crossed, staring at something.
“What’s wrong?” Huo Dun asked as he approached.
Yan Chengxue replied, “I just saw a strange person.”
“A strange person?”
“Yes, wearing a black robe adorned with long streamers, face hidden beneath a hood, exuding an eerie aura.” Yan Chengxue pressed his lips together. “When he sensed my gaze, he turned to look at me. That one glance sent chills down my spine.”
Huo Dun pondered briefly. “It’s likely a shaman.”
“A shaman?”
“A sorcerer of the grasslands. It’s said they can communicate with spirits and wield mysterious powers. Many tribes in the northern desert revere shamanism. Tribal nobles often have shamans secretly protecting them during travels. This further proves my suspicion—Aletan is no ordinary horse merchant. Who knows what his real intentions are in coming to Qingshui Camp?”
Yan Chengxue fell silent for a moment before reaching into Huo Dun’s chest pocket.
Startled, Huo Dun asked, “What are you doing?”
Yan Chengxue pulled out a pouch of concealed darts. “You really did bring the poisoned black Iron flying needles with you?”
Huo Dun defended himself, “Traveling unarmored, I needed some assurance. Even if I don’t fear fighting Aletan again, I must consider your safety.”
Yan Chengxue’s voice lowered, “Look, Aletan just sent Su Yan off. His tent is currently empty. If I were to mix these needles in his teapot, could we not eliminate this potential threat in advance?”
“Censor Su would never approve,” Huo Dun countered.
Yan Chengxue withdrew his hand, a faint smirk forming on his lips. “What does that matter? If I find an opportunity, let Su Yan try saving that barbarian himself—if he can.”
As they spoke, an Embroidered Uniform Guard soldier rode up and called to them, “Lords, please mount up. Lord Su has ordered us to return to the city.”
