Chapter Thirty-Two: The Test (Part Two)

If one were to disregard the intimidating princely title perched atop Li Xian’s head, he was, at his core, nothing more than a mere child. Granted, his stature was impressive for a boy of ten, yet when placed amidst these generals—men whose fists could bear a man’s weight and whose arms could cradle galloping horses—Li Xian still appeared woefully inadequate, a mere sprout among towering oaks. As he entered the tent, regardless of whether the assembly of generals wore expressions of feigned respect or indifferent coldness, none truly held Li Xian in high esteem. Few even spared him a proper glance. Yet, with the commotion he now stirred, all were left bewildered, eyes bulging like copper bells, brimming with questions they dared not voice. It was not merely the weight of his princely title that kept them in check—one could not offend such a figure lightly—but more so that the venerable Lord Su, seated in the place of honor, made no move to interrupt Li Xian’s unrestrained laughter.

“Hm?”

Su Dingfang was no ordinary man. A veteran of countless campaigns, he was well-versed in all manner of schemes and stratagems; deceiving him was no simple feat. The moment Li Xian began to laugh, Su Dingfang saw through the boy’s ploy—an attempt to seize the initiative by turning the guest into the host. Yet, Su Dingfang knew that if he were to speak first, whether to scold or inquire, he would cede the advantage to Li Xian. With his seasoned cunning, Su Dingfang would not fall for such a trick. He let Li Xian perform to his heart’s content, and only when the laughter ebbed did he quietly clear his throat, his expression as impassive as before.

“General Su, I beg your pardon for my rudeness,” Li Xian said, smiling unperturbed, his face thick-skinned from years of bureaucratic tempering in a future life. Though his attempt to take control had been seen through, he remained unfazed. “I was reminded of the parting words left by Li Chunfeng, the Grand Historian. I am truly ashamed.”

“Oh? And what did he say?” Su Dingfang could dismiss the words of most, even an imperial edict if he deemed it unwise, yet he dared not take lightly the utterances of a man half regarded as an immortal like Li Chunfeng. With a furrowed brow, he asked, albeit somewhat unwillingly.

He’s taken the bait! Performance time! Li Xian was inwardly delighted that Su Dingfang had finally broken his silence, though he kept his satisfaction hidden, bowing with a smile. “Grand Historian Li once told me, ‘The glory of our Great Tang lies with the Left Vanguard.’ I did not fully believe it at first, but now, seeing the vigor of General Su and the valor of you all, I am convinced. The thought that I might be fortunate enough to learn here fills me with such joy that I lost my composure. Forgive me.”

As the saying goes, flattery never fails. After Li Xian’s words of praise, the assembled generals broke into broad smiles. Even knowing the words were largely insincere, who among them did not relish hearing their own virtues extolled? Even the forthright Su Dingfang could not help but allow a trace of humor to flicker across his face.

“Your Highness flatters us. I am unworthy of such praise. That you are devoted to the martial path is commendable, but training is arduous—do you have the resolve to endure it?” Su Dingfang’s expression softened, but he clearly did not intend to let Li Xian pass so easily. With a slight, knowing smile, he pressed on.

Arduous? That sounds ominous. Looks like I’m in for a rough time. Li Xian was quick-witted enough to catch the hidden meaning, and inwardly began to bemoan his fate. Yet, having come so far, retreat was not an option. Resigned, he forced a smile and replied, “The General is right. Having set my heart on this path, I would not dare slacken. I give you my word. I hope you will accept my sincerity and support me—I would be deeply grateful.”

“Very well. Since Your Highness has spoken thus, how could I refuse? However…” Su Dingfang nodded in apparent agreement, but his words trailed off, leaving a hint of something more.

However? Here we go—just state your conditions! Li Xian’s brow furrowed at the words. He knew this was not a good sign, but could do nothing but respond with fervor, “If you have any concerns, General, speak freely. So long as it is within my power, I will not refuse.”

“Excellent! Since Your Highness is so forthright, forgive this old man’s presumption.” A sly glint flickered in Su Dingfang’s aged eyes as he stood abruptly, raising a thumb. “In learning the martial path, perseverance comes first. Without hardship, there can be no achievement. As you are resolute, I will not make things difficult for you. The southern training field is not large—run it twenty times, and I shall have men beat the drums to cheer you on!”

What? Twenty laps? Are you trying to kill me? This is madness! At Su Dingfang’s words, Li Xian’s eyes bulged and his mouth hung agape. The southern field might not be immense, but each lap was no small distance—over six hundred meters. Twenty laps meant more than twelve kilometers. Li Xian had never been a runner, not in this life nor the previous. Even back in his schooldays, he dreaded long-distance running; each time he ran fifteen hundred meters, he was exhausted for days. Now they wanted him to run twenty laps? That was sheer torture.

“If it is too much, Your Highness, perhaps you should rest instead,” Su Dingfang said, a mocking smile curling at his lips as he goaded Li Xian, seeing his shock.

Back down now? Not a chance! Though Li Xian had no true desire to become a warrior, he would not show weakness at this moment. Gritting his teeth, he shot Su Dingfang a glare. “Since the General has set the test, how could I refuse? But I have one request: if I complete it, I hope you will accept me as your student.”

“Very well. If you truly finish, I shall gladly accept you!”

Twenty laps was no trivial matter. Even for seasoned soldiers, it was a challenge—let alone a sheltered prince. Su Dingfang thought Li Xian was merely being stubborn and agreed readily.

Here goes nothing—do or die! Li Xian shot Su Dingfang a fierce look, undid his sash, shrugged off his princely robes until only a thin jacket remained, and strode boldly out of the tent. The generals exchanged bewildered glances and then burst into lively discussion, turning the tent into a veritable marketplace.

“Men, strike the drums for His Highness Prince Zhou!” Su Dingfang had not expected Li Xian to actually begin, and was momentarily taken aback. Seeing the commotion in the tent, he grew annoyed, slapped the table, and barked an order. Without waiting to see how the others reacted, he strode out. The generals, seeing this, all hurried after.

Outside, they found Li Xian stretching, lunging, and twisting in unfamiliar warm-up exercises. None had ever seen such methods, and their chatter resumed, filled with teasing remarks—though none too harsh. Li Xian ignored them, focusing on his preparations, his youthful face set with determination.

“Boom, boom, boom-boom-boom…”

Soon, Li Xian finished warming up. Without another word, he bowed to Su Dingfang, stepped to the starting line, and set off as the drums rolled thunderously. His small frame lurched forward at an even pace.

One lap, sweat beaded; two, his breath grew ragged; three, his legs tingled with numbness. By the fourth, his face was pale, his steps faltering. By the fifth, he was gasping for air, stumbling with every stride, yet still refused to give in. Gritting his teeth, he pressed on, mind filled with a single thought: run, keep running, don’t give up!

Eight laps, nine laps, ten laps—by then, Li Xian was swaying on his feet, all but spent. The generals, who had started with laughter, now watched in silence, admiration flickering in their eyes.

“General, at this rate something may go wrong. Should we…” The Left Vanguard’s General Du Gu Mou, unable to watch any longer, approached Su Dingfang in a low voice.

“Wait. Let’s see a little longer.” Even Su Dingfang was surprised by the prince’s endurance. Pity stirred within him, but he was still reluctant to have Li Xian join his ranks. After a moment’s thought, he waved Du Gu Mou off.

As Du Gu Mou was Su Dingfang’s deputy, even his words were dismissed. The other generals dared not intervene, watching with mixed feelings—unsure whether they wished Li Xian to succeed or collapse.

Numbness set in—not only were Li Xian’s legs leaden, but his mind was a blank. After twelve laps, he had lost all sense of self, moving forward only by force of habit. And then, as he ran on, his legs buckled, and he pitched headlong to the ground…