Chapter Three: Horseback Riding

The archer who had collapsed onto the shaft of the chariot coughed and struggled to rise. As he lifted his head, a scene unfolded before him that was so surreal he almost suspected he was dreaming.

Peng Ji and the others had already circled back. Their eyes shone with excitement, tinged with embarrassment and a measure of awe.

While fleeing earlier, they had heard the commotion of bodies and chariots tumbling behind them, only to realize that Mong Yi, alone with his bow, had defeated an entire squadron of chariots.

“Mister Mong, we—”

“I know. There's no need for words. Check on this gentleman’s injuries first.”

“This… Cough, cough. I am Mo Cheng, a deputy captain under Commander Dou. May I ask your name, sir…?”

“Mong Yi, an infantryman.”

“What? An infantryman?”

Though his plain attire had already suggested as much, the truth still struck hard.

“That bow is yours, I presume? A fine weapon, though a bit too soft.” Mong Yi tossed the longbow back.

“Too soft?” Mo Cheng was momentarily dazed. That bow had been passed down from his father and was renowned in the army as a powerful one—how could it be too soft?

After a pause, Mo Cheng decided to address him as the others did. “Brother Mong, brothers, may I ask under which general you all serve?”

Mong Yi waved his hand. “Let’s not discuss that now; the Wu army will return soon. Xiao Wu, scout ahead. Gan Ying, carry General Mo into the woods. The rest, follow me.”

Any armored soldiers still clinging to life were dispatched with a single thrust of the halberd. Mercy had no place on the battlefield.

The group gathered two long spears, two wooden bows, a bundle of arrows, and several bronze swords. Wu weapons differed from those of Chu; the right-hand charioteer of Wu bore spears and swords, while Chu soldiers wielded halberds.

To Mong Yi, the halberd—with blades on both sides and a pointed end for thrusting—was superior to the spear. Still, the bronze swords of Wu shimmered with a cold luster and seemed formidable in close combat.

Best of all, they had acquired three horses, unscathed and astonishingly docile—perhaps the result of long training.

Returning to the woods, faces glowed with satisfaction; after days of hiding, they had finally struck back and, more importantly, found comrades. They would no longer wander aimlessly in the hills.

Mo Cheng, now recovered, had only lost consciousness after striking his head on the chariot shaft.

When he learned Mong Yi and the others served General Wu Hei, his jaw dropped in astonishment.

Mo Cheng explained he had been dispatched by Doctor Dou Xin to support Wu Hei, but had encountered the Wu army en route. With only a handful of chariots, he was forced to fight and retreat, eventually tumbling down a cliff in desperation. The charioteer and right-hand guard died instantly; he was lucky to escape with only a few broken bones.

“So, only you remain from General Wu Hei’s force?”

“That’s right. The Wu army has pressed southward, likely toward Ying.”

“How can that be? The Wu army should still be in the State of Cai.”

“Hmph, Brother Mong speaks the truth—we saw it with our own eyes.”

Mo Cheng sprang to his feet, suppressing his pain. “This is grave news. We must report to Lord Dou Xin at once!”

“Where is Lord Dou Xin’s camp?”

“We traveled two days to get here, but then the Wu army chased us and we lost our way. Now, I can’t even tell east from west.” Mo Cheng smiled wryly.

“I see.” Mong Yi sank into thought. No one dared disturb him, and Mo Cheng could only wait anxiously.

From the recent battle, it was clear that the Wu archers’ range was short, or they would not have given him the chance to pick them off one by one. Though the chariots appeared formidable, they were clumsy and slow to turn, making their armored riders easy targets.

“Who among you can ride a horse?”

To Mong Yi’s surprise, everyone except Gan Ying and Zhong Ying could ride. Mo Cheng, too, found this odd; the land of Chu was full of rivers, making swimming far more common than horsemanship. But with a man who could single-handedly rout chariots among them, perhaps it was only natural—birds of a feather gather together.

It turned out that Xiao Wu and Xiao Liu were hunters from the outer slopes of Zhongtiao Mountain, where they had grown up among the Rong people and learned to ride from childhood. Peng Ji, before his family fell on hard times, had studied mounted archery and driving, though he was not skilled. Zhao Tian was a groom, so his riding ability was no surprise. Li simply mentioned riding for trade on occasion and offered no further explanation.

“Good. Xiao Wu, Xiao Liu—share a horse, take bows and arrows, and come with me to seize more horses. The rest, practice here. General Mo, tend to your wounds.”

Seizing horses—an excellent idea. The group grew excited, though none would have dared suggest it had they not seen Mong Yi’s archery with their own eyes.

As for how Mong Yi himself knew how to ride, everyone had long since stopped questioning it. In their hearts, they mused that the Han were indeed a remarkable people.

“Brother Mong, call me Mo Cheng. After years fighting the Wu, I know they only recently began using chariots. Their true strength lies with their infantry, unlike Chu, where infantry rarely fight independently. Wu’s infantry are well-armed and formidable.”

As he spoke, Mo Cheng took the longbow from his back, brushing away grass from the grip with care.

“Please, Brother Mong, take this longbow. Be careful out there!”

“Thank you, Brother Mo. Rest assured.” Mong Yi took it, fastened the quiver at his waist, and vaulted onto a horse.

As before, the moment he settled into the saddle, he felt as if he and the horse were one. He needed no reins—only a nudge of his heels, and the horse whinnied and joyfully galloped away.

Xiao Wu and Xiao Liu were clumsier. Though they had learned young, it still took effort to adjust. Fortunately, they were agile, and after some struggling, managed a wobbly start.

The others stared in amazement. After a long silence, Peng Ji sighed softly, “A true talent can do anything.”

Galloping down the hillside, Mong Yi felt the world stretch wide before him. He threw back his head and gave a long, wild cry. After all this time in a foreign world, he finally felt free in both body and spirit.

They waited quietly for a while, letting the horses nibble at the roots of grass. It was early winter; the grass was yellowing, but the horses ate with relish.

Xiao Wu and Xiao Liu soon caught up, much more adept than before.

“Brother Mong, are we going to look for the Wu army?” asked Xiao Wu, eyes full of admiration.

Mong Yi smiled. “Yes. Tell me, how would you find them?”

“Uh…” Xiao Wu scratched his head, unsure.

Xiao Liu, sharper, piped up, “Just follow you, Brother Mong. You’ll find them for sure.”

“Trying to be clever!” Mong Yi scowled. “Have you forgotten everything I taught you about reading wheel tracks and bent grass?”

“Oh, right!” Xiao Liu stuck out his tongue. Xiao Wu caught on too. “And horse droppings, and bark rubbed from trees.”

“Excellent. Let’s see if we can find their camp.”

Half a day later, the three of them—two on horseback—stood atop a small peak, gazing down at an enormous encampment. The tents clustered like clouds, one after another, stretching into the distance.

Xiao Wu and Xiao Liu had never seen a military camp so close. They gasped; there must have been thousands, even tens of thousands, of men below.

“Brother Mong, are we just going to charge down there?”

“What are you thinking? We'd be lucky if even our bones were left after a charge like that.”

The two began to argue, while Mong Yi watched with a quiet smile.

In the end, unable to reach a conclusion, both turned to Mong Yi for guidance.

“Brother Mong, what should we do?”

“Wait.”

“Wait?”

“Yes. Wait for the scouts to come out.”