Chapter 114: Chaotic Strife (1)

This was a very crude music box. It had taken Xiao Qiao a great deal of trouble to hammer out a small roll of sheet steel. According to him, if this were gifted to a top-tier courtesan in a high-class brothel, staying there for ten days or a fortnight would be an easy task.

He even asked Tie Xinyuan who he planned to give it to. He also asked if he could make a few more to sell for money. If it weren't for Tie Xinyuan's sour expression, the drooling Su Mei would have already snatched it away.

Everything is hardest to make the first time; by the second or third, there is basically no difficulty at all. After much persuasion, Yang Huaiyu finally managed to stop Su Mei, who was on the verge of going wild, and tossed a large silver ingot to Xiao Qiao, telling him to quickly churn out eight or ten more, intending to fill Su Mei’s room with them.

Once Tie Xinyuan taught the princess how to wind it up, she completely forgot about the fox and the pack of starving puppies beside her. The maid, Xiao Zhu, and a group of nannies fed the dogs while secretly watching the little princess fiddle with the strange wooden box that produced such pleasant music. She was so obsessed with the music box that even after returning to her residence, the Zizhu Pavilion, she was unwilling to let it go. The tinkling, melodic music never ceased.

The first person to discover the peculiar goings-on in her daughter's room was Consort Dong. When she entered the room, the first thing she saw was her cherished daughter, chin resting in her hands, intently watching the wooden figurine spinning on the table. Without disturbing her, Consort Dong sat quietly behind her, watching the wooden box that could emit such tones. She had never seen anything so magical before.

At the very first glance, she concluded that this was not a product of the Imperial Workshop. Items from the Imperial Workshop followed a complete set of strict rules regarding size, color, and even ornamentation. This piece did not; the copper fittings on the box were a clear indication that it was not made by the Imperial workshop. If it had been, the copper would have been replaced with gold. Thus, it must have come from the common people.

Consort Dong knew that her daughter was very close to the fox favored by the Emperor, and she also knew that her daughter was close to the fox’s owner—the child prodigy highly praised by His Majesty. Although she did not know why the Emperor valued the only poor neighbor of the Imperial family so highly, Consort Dong never stopped her daughter from running toward the north wall of the Imperial Garden. Having been in the harem for many years, she knew the Emperor would not favor someone so much simply out of personal preference, and the ministers seemed to have never questioned the presence of such a neighbor to the Imperial family.

The best gift the Emperor received at the Thousand Autumns Festival was the one his daughter had given him. Once the Emperor donned that suit of armor, he was as dazzling as a deity from the heavens. Compared to the brilliance of the armor, the Emperor valued the ingenuity behind its construction even more. Even during the festival, the Emperor had solemnly summoned Zeng Gongliang, the master craftsman of the Directorate for Palace Buildings, to provide personal instructions, demanding that the Directorate improve upon the armor to create affordable mass-produced versions.

At the time, Consort Dong had wondered what kind of brilliant child could win the Emperor’s special favor. Even when the New Year’s gifts sent by his family were a basket of noodles and a very beautifully braised pork, the Emperor accepted them with a smile and returned gifts according to the status of a third-rank official.

The wooden figurine on the box gradually stopped spinning, and the music slowly faded. Seeing her daughter preparing to reset the mechanism, Consort Dong reached out to press her daughter’s small hand, saying, "When will you let Mother meet that young boy?"

The little princess gave her mother a big smile, wrapped her arms around Consort Dong’s neck, and laughed, "You aren't allowed to scare him."

Consort Dong said irritably, "Are you talking about that little thief who stole the banana? He certainly has a lot of nerve; he is the first person to ever dare steal something from the Imperial Palace."

"His family is poor..."

"Thieves are all poor... If they weren't poor, who would become a thief?"

"He took it, he didn't steal it! I promised it to him!"

Consort Dong pressed her finger against her daughter’s nose and laughed, "You are defending him to this extent; what else can your mother say? You should just pray that he can have his name called at the East Prosperity Gate in the future. Otherwise, the more you cherish him now, the more miserable you will be later!"

After these words left her lips, seeing her daughter’s bewildered expression, Consort Dong felt a sudden shock, realizing she had spoken carelessly. Recalling what the Emperor had told her, Consort Dong sighed and pulled her daughter into her arms, her heart devoid of any joy.

Tie Xinyuan’s heart felt as if it were about to leap out of his chest. The drill ground was packed with a sea of people. Countless Tokyo residents, waving colorful slips of paper, were hoarsely cheering for the pair of military examinees dueling in the arena. This scene reminded Tie Xinyuan of the stadiums of the future, except the passion of the Song people far exceeded that of modern fans.

Tie Xinyuan knew that the roars they emitted contained a great deal of desperation for money. After all, for every extra victory a military examinee they had bet on achieved, the gambling winnings would increase by thirty percent. The only one on the entire drill ground not interested in the fighting was Baozi. Tie Xinyuan sat on his shoulders, allowing him to see everything clearly; the height advantage, making him stand out from the crowd, was the envy of many in Tokyo.

Tie Xinyuan had hung a large bag around Baozi’s neck filled with various snacks, so Baozi was extremely content. He liked to eat, and Tie Xinyuan liked to watch the excitement; each got what they wanted, and neither interfered with the other.

Small officials in red peaked hats scurried back and forth in the arena. They needed to constantly circle the two dueling examinees to count the white marks on their bodies. Those with more white marks, especially in fatal locations, would be judged the losers.

The match involving Iron Lion had no such trouble. Wielding a massive wooden hammer covered in white powder, he smashed his opponent and horse to the ground with a single blow. The small officials did not even need to come forward to count; the examinee, covered in white dust and spitting blood, crawled away from the arena on his own. His match was not worth watching; the time it took for his opponents to enter the field was far longer than the time it took to fight. Often, before his opponent had even recovered from the cheers of the Tokyo crowd, they were knocked down by a single blow and carried away by the officials.

Tie Xinyuan stood in front of the arena where Iron Lion was competing. Xiao Qiao was also there, clutching a four-foot-long wooden staff, waiting for the moment Iron Lion would face Yang Huaiyu. The winter wind howled across the drill ground, yet one could not feel the slightest chill. Iron Lion had discarded his shirt, standing in the center of the arena with his robust torso bared, holding two large hammers. Around him, seven or eight pairs of examinees continued to fight; only the space around him remained empty.

He was the only examinee in the arena not riding a warhorse. Since his last opponent’s horse had been crushed by his hammer, almost no one thought he was easy to bully anymore.

Only now did Tie Xinyuan clearly understand what the Military Commission’s rules were like. Before today, no one knew the selection criteria for the military examination had changed. They had assumed it was like previous years, where everyone just duelled until a winner was chosen, then kept fighting until no one remained to challenge them. This year, the changes were significant: ten people occupied one arena, split into five pairs to fight, eliminating five. Then, there were no rules for the combat between the remaining five. The Imperial family only wanted the final winner, and then the cycle would repeat.

"The Emperor is truly angry this time..." Tie Xinyuan muttered, then noticed the situation in the arena change abruptly. The remaining four examinees had chosen, as if by unspoken agreement, to launch an attack on Iron Lion.

Tie Xinyuan closed his eyes; the result was already within his expectations. A lion does not care about a flock of sheep. Iron Lion was simply treating the arena as a stage to showcase his abilities. Just moments ago, he had defeated his opponent in the simplest way, attracting the attention of the officials on the platform.

Civil officials did not like superior military generals, but they absolutely adored all kinds of mindless, fierce warriors. Regardless of which powerful civil official it was, they liked to keep an invincible thug by their side. In their view, they already had an overflow of strategy; the only thing they lacked was powerful execution. Therefore, the stupider the general, the more they liked them. Such people could be trained during leisure and sent to the battlefield when needed. Either way, it was a fine arrangement for a civil official.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw bent iron spears, a horse lance flying through the air, and a meteor hammer rolling chaotically on the ground. As for the hammer in his hand, it had been replaced by a burly examinee... That examinee’s head had crashed heavily into another man’s chest. Tie Xinyuan had to close his eyes again; simply from the sound of the Tokyo residents around him gasping in horror, he could judge just how terrifying the scene was.

The small officials beat their copper gongs desperately—*clang, clang, clang*—deafeningly loud. After the sound of the gongs died down, the arena fell into a deathly silence, with only various sounds drifting over from the other arenas in the distance.

When Tie Xinyuan opened his eyes again, four burly men were lying randomly on the ground, and their four horses had long since run off. Iron Lion picked up his somewhat tattered clothes from the ground, draped them casually over his shoulders, and waited for the officials on the platform to announce his victory.

Ignoring the glares of others, Xiao Qiao stepped onto the shaft of a carriage and leaned toward Tie Xinyuan’s ear, whispering, "It seems we can't avoid hitting this guy a few more times. If Young Master Yang fights him with real skill, he’ll definitely end up beaten into a meat patty."

Tie Xinyuan whispered, "If that stuff is injected too much, it will kill him. We only need to numb his limbs..."

Xiao Qiao nodded in understanding, and together with Tie Xinyuan, offered the most enthusiastic cheers for Iron Lion’s spectacular performance.