The boy was
yanked back by him, and then things went a bit beyond Yuan Sikong's
expectation. He spun low and quickly kicked Yuan Sikong in the knee.
Yuan Sikong retreated
in pain and let go of his hand.
The boy touched the
wet and sticky back of the neck with his hand, and he felt a handful of stinky
horse blood. His small and round face turned red: "You ... you seek
death!"
Yuan Sikong's heart
trembled slightly. He was wondering how he hadn't seen the little boy's
movements when he was frightened by the anger on his face again. The anger of a
child was nothing but acting spoiled or being unreasonable. The former was a test,
and the latter was a vent, but this child's anger was just anger, like a small
beast with its tusks exposed.
Yuan Sikong forced
himself to be calm and did not think too highly of a little boy. He said in a
threatening tone, "Don't tell anyone."
The boy's little
chest rose and fell with force: "You have broken the laws of Dasheng and
you still dare to threaten me?!”
"I'm doing this
for..." Yuan Sikong thought to himself: There's no point in explaining to
him. He waved his fist, and said in a stern voice, "Anyway, you are not
allowed to tell anyone, or I will kill you!"
After all, he was
only 13 years old. The weight of the words "breaking the law" made
his heart tremble, so it was natural for him to panic when he was caught
red-handed with such a serious offense. If the other party were an adult, he
would not be afraid, because he knew that adults could be cajoled. If he hit
their soft spot, he would get twice the result* no matter what method
he used, but in front of him was a very delicate little child. It's hard for a
naive child to understand the reason, and he didn’t care about money and things,
so the best way to deal with them was to make them afraid.
Yuan Sikong had the
right idea, but he met the wrong person.
That child was
angered. He lunged while screaming and punched Yuan Sikong in the chest.
Yuan Sikong blocked
with his left hand and grabbed his shirt with his right, but he missed.
The two of them
exchanged several blows, and Yuan Sikong felt a little tired. Although he had been
practicing martial arts for four years, he was not interested in it and his
kung fu was even worse than Yuan Weiling's. This boy was so young and agile that
his foundation was not inferior to Yuan Nanyu's.
But there was a
difference in height between the two of them, so Yuan Sikong seized the
opportunity to throw him to the ground, slapped him twice on the face, and said
in a stern voice, "Don't tell anyone."
The child was fearless
and yelled, "You brought dishonor to the horse’s corpse. You'll be
punished with military law. Go and die!" He stomped hard and kicked, not giving in to Yuan Sikong.
Both of them were so
enraged that they forgot their martial arts routine and began rolling and
wrestling on the ground.
It rained last night,
so the grass was muddy and the area around the stables was covered in horse
manure, and they were soon covered in filth. Even the colors of their clothes were
unrecognizable.
When Zhao Dayou and a
few guards came running over, they almost passed out when they saw the scene.
When the two of them
were fighting with their eyes red, they were carried away by strong arms, yet they
were still kicking each other in the air.
"Second
Highness, are you alright?!" The guards were so frightened that their faces
turned green.
They only saw Zhao
Dayou knelt on the horse manure with a poof, howling as he kowtowed,
"Little Highness, I* deserve to die, I deserve to
die."
As Yuan Sikong
watched Zhao Dayou's fearful appearance, his feverish brain sobered up and a chill
rose in his chest. He knew the identity of this child instantly. He was Feng
Ye, the youngest son of Feng Jianping.
In fact, he had long
thought that this child looked familiar, but firstly, he was too far away that
day, and secondly, he was so distracted that he had not thought of it. Damn it.
Feng Ye pointed at
Yuan Sikong. His voice was distorted with anger: "Arrest him. I-I want to chop
him up!"
Zhao Dayou looked at
Yuan Sikong with eyes of remorse and hatred. He wanted to cry but had no tears.
Yuan Sikong had
completely calmed down and said to Zhao Dayou using the shape of his mouth,
"Burn it."
"Second Highness
is injured!" One of the guards saw the back of Feng Ye's neck covered in
blood and felt that his little life had come to an end today. He only hoped
that he would not implicate his family members.
Feng Ye seemed to
have just remembered, "The horse!" He pointed to the stables,
"He insulted the horse’s corpse!"
Yuan Sikong closed
his eyes.
---
Yuan Sikong had
always hoped to see King of Jingyuan's face up close and personal, but he had
never expected this wish to come true so soon. He was covered in filth. His hair
was unkempt. His eye sockets were bruised. Blood was still seeping from the
corners of his mouth, and his whole body stank.
Of course, Feng Ye
was even more wretched than he was. Having been punched several times by him on
the ground, his face was swollen.
Feng Jianping was 40
years old. He had a plump forehead, a nose hanging like a gall, two sword brows
slanting into his temples, and a pair of eyes as sharp as eagles. He was a
handsome man, dashing but not frivolous, not angry but powerful.
Feng Jianping looked
at Yuan Sikong, who was kneeling on the ground and dared not raise his head, then
looked at his little son, who looked like a stinking ball of mud, and burst out
laughing.
Feng Ye looked
indignant: "Father, are you mocking me?!"
Feng Jianping leaned
backward and forward with joy, "Can't I mock you when you lost a
fight?"
Feng Ye was
discontented, "He's taller and stronger than me!"
"Yeah, you also know
he is taller and stronger than you… Didn’t father teach you what to do when
your enemy is stronger than you?"
Feng Ye pursed his
lips and said nothing.
"Just run."
Feng Jianping smiled, "You know you can't win him, but you still want to
fight. That is foolhardy in vain. One day, when you lead an army into battle and
are outnumbered, and you still want to risk your life and the lives of your
soldiers due to haste, it is a great taboo for a commander."
Feng Ye's eyes
reddened, half in anger and half in grievance.
Feng Jianping
beckoned, "My Lang'er*, come here."
Feng Ye wriggled
over.
Feng Jianping wiped
the sludge off his face and laughed, "Don't cry. If you cry, I will laugh
at you and call your big brother over to laugh at you too."
Feng Ye widened his
eyes, and he held back the tears that were hanging in the frame of his eyes. That
little face was so pitiful.
Feng Jianping shifted
his gaze to Yuan Sikong, "Kid, lift your head up."
Yuan Sikong lifted
his face and looked at Feng Jianping with fear. His heart was like dead ashes*.
First offending the
horse’s corpse, then offending the King’s son. He did not know what his fate
would be. At worst, he'd just die. He only hoped that he would not drag the
Yuan family into it.
"You are the son
of Yuan Mao, the Military Officer of Guangning Wei."
"Your Highness,
I am only an adopted son."
"I heard that
you dissected the corpse of a horse. Why?" Feng Jianping teased, "Did
Yuan Mao starve you?"
Yuan Sikong's
slightly raised Adam’s apple rolled up and down as he calmly replied, "I
have been raising horses for four years, and I thought that if I could
understand the internal organs, bones, meridians, and veins of horses, I could
cure some difficult and complicated diseases. Not for the purpose of insulting
horse carcasses, let alone for food."
Feng Jianping raised
his eyebrows and held out his hand.
His subordinate
handed him a blood-stained booklet, and he flipped it open to read it. He raised
an eyebrow in surprise: "You wrote all this?"
"Yes."
"You ..."
Before Feng Jianping
could say anything, he heard a rush of footsteps, and Yuan Sikong didn't need
to turn around to recognize that it was Yuan Mao.
With a thud, Yuan Mao
knelt heavily on the ground and said loudly, "I have failed to teach my
son properly, I would like to be dealt with by military law. Please condemn me
your Highness!"
Yuan Sikong's eyes
were burning with regret. He had been careful and cautious for four years, but
he had made a series of mistakes in the past few days. He was ashamed to face
Yuan Mao.
Feng Jianping pointed
at Yuan Sikong, "Yuan Mao, your son insulted the corpse of a horse first,
and then intimidated and beat my son, what punishment should I give him?"
"It is up to
Your Highness to decide, but I beg Your Highness to let me suffer on his behalf,
considering his young age."
Yuan Sikong did not
hesitate to say, "I am the only one who did this. It has nothing to do
with others. I am willing to bear all the punishment.”
"You shut your
mouth." Yuan Mao scolded angrily in a low voice.
Feng Jianping tossed
the booklet in front of Yuan Mao, "Take a look."
Yuan Mao flipped
through a few pages, but what was written and drawn on it were all the findings
of Yuan Sikong's dissection of the horse's corpse, including the weight of each
organ, the direction of the tendons and bones, and the position of the joints,
all of which were recorded in diagrams. He was not surprised that Yuan Sikong
had done such a thing, for the boy was blessed with great intelligence and a
depth of thought that often eluded him.
"This child is
intelligent and responsible. He will become a great man."
Yuan Mao said with fear,
"Your Highness has overpraised."
Feng Jianping leaned slightly,
"Yuan Mao, raise your face to talk to me."
Yuan Mao raised his
head and looked straight into Feng Jianping's sharp eyes with trepidation.
Feng Jianping laughed
lightly, "Let me ask you again, what crime should I drop? This is
Guangning's territory. You are the master, and I am the guest, I will do as you
say."
Yuan Mao prostrated on
the ground, "I dare not, I will allow Your Highness to deal as you please."
Feng Jianping let out
a bored yawn, "Lang'er."
"Son is
here." Feng Ye said.
"You found the
corpse of the insulted horse, and you were also the one who was beaten, what do
you think should be done?"
Feng Ye narrowed his
eyes and glared fiercely at Yuan Sikong, and was about to speak when Feng
Jianping raised his hand to stop him.
"Military law is
military law, and private grievances are private grievances. You can't mix them
up."
Feng Ye took a deep breath
and said in his clear and tender little voice angrily, "Yuan Sikong has
insulted the horse corpse and should be dealt with according to the military
law. Considering his youth and ignorance, his father, Yuan Mao, will be
punished on his behalf. He will receive 20 strikes and forfeit 3 months of
salary.”
When Yuan Sikong was
about to speak, Yuan Mao pressed his head and forced him to kowtow: "Thank
you, Your Highness."
Feng Jianping looked
at Yuan Sikong and said happily, "Why, you don't seem to be contented, do
you?"
"I dare not. Thank
Your Highness for your great kindness." Yuan Sikong felt so guilty that he
wanted to cry.
Yuan Mao said,
"Your Highness, this young child has offended Little Highness, I hope to
suffer on his behalf as well."
Feng Jianping laughed
boldly, "What's wrong with fighting between children?"
Yuan Mao heaved a
sigh of relief and kowtowed in gratitude, "Your Highness is generous, I
will never forget it."
"That's enough,
go and collect your reward."
"Yes."
"Oh, wait."
Feng Jianping pointed at Yuan Sikong, "I specially grant you permission to
dissect the horse's corpse alone for study purposes, and of course, you have to
bury it properly afterwards."
Yuan Sikong looked up
excitedly and looked at Feng Jianping incredulously.
Feng Jianping smiled
and said, "If you can really study and develop a good formula for healing
horses, it will be a meritorious service for centuries. Don't let your father
take these 20 strikes for nothing."
"Thank you, Your
Highness! Thank you, Your Highness!" Yuan Sikong felt that Feng Jianping's
body was full of holy light and as magnificent as a god. He had never seen Feng
Jianping fight, nor had he ever seen him train his army, but from this alone,
he could see that Feng Jianping governed his armed forces fairly, refrained
from being selfish, employed both kindness and prestige, and was fair in meting
out rewards and punishments. Isn't he the divine general of wisdom, faith,
benevolence, courage, and strictness in the Art of War!
No wonder this man
has made great contributions.
Feng Jianping lightly
punched Feng Ye's small chest with his huge fist: "My Lang'er, this person
has beaten you and humiliated you. Remember, practice martial arts diligently
and beat him back in the future, hmm?" He winked at Feng Ye.
"Yes!" Feng
Ye clenched his small fist and said loudly, "Yuan Sikong, just wait, I
will beat you up sooner or later!"
----
PS: beat him? More like...PRESS him hehehe ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
I*[草民]---Caomin is a form of addressing oneself who is inferior to someone else in terms of status. This word has been appearing often in the previous chapters, but I changed them to ‘I’ instead for better flow of the translation.
twice the
result*[事半功倍]---the right approach saves effort and leads to better results
Lang'er*[狼儿]---Feng Jianping called Feng Ye
‘Lang'er’ as a nickname. Translation: Wolf
heart was like
dead ashes*[心如死灰]--- utterly dissipated
Edited on 24 Mar. 21 (Emzie)
Edited on 29 Jun.
21 (Ari)
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