Marshal Hong

After they had left, the soldier turned and went through the main gate. Before long, he came back out and said to Li Yan and the dozen or so others, "Stay in your current formation and follow me. Once inside, you are not to wander about, speak at will, or whisper among yourselves. Otherwise, you will be eliminated outright. If your actions anger the general, you will probably have to taste the military rod as well. Do you understand?" As he spoke, he swept them with his gaze. That single look sent a chill through them all. Though he was only an ordinary soldier, he had clearly killed no small number of men.

The killing aura he carried was not something a pack of green youths like them could withstand. When that gaze swept over him, Li Yan felt even the pores on his skin stand on end. What a fierce look, he thought. He only knew that the man's gaze was frightening; he did not know it was the killing aura of a veteran who had survived life and death on the battlefield.

After asking, the soldier saw the half-grown boys nodding and answering submissively. He said nothing more, turned, and left. The group hurriedly followed behind him in an orderly fashion, even walking with extra care, afraid that a heavy footfall might make a sound.

Only after Li Yan's group passed through the gate did they clearly see the courtyard within. Calling it a courtyard was not quite right—it was really a plaza broad enough for horses to gallop at full speed. They stood at the entrance to the plaza. Further ahead stood a raised platform, with tables and chairs arranged atop it. Every few paces along the edge of the platform stood a large flagpole planted into the stage. Rows upon rows of banners fluttered in the wind with hunting snaps. Between the rippling folds, characters such as "A," "B," and "C" could faintly be seen embroidered upon them, while others bore totems of vicious tigers, flood dragons, and the like.

So this was the military drill ground people always spoke of, Li Yan thought.

There were around a hundred people standing on the drill ground, divided into three lines. The line on the far right had around five or six people. After entering, Li Yan and the others followed the soldier to the back of that line, bringing its total to seventeen or eighteen. The middle line had around forty or fifty people, while the line on the left had the most, numbering around seventy or eighty.

Several soldiers stood before each line, overseeing the three groups. Around the plaza, several rows of armed soldiers stood in perfect formation, their helmets bright and armor gleaming, their bearing lofty and imposing. They stared straight ahead without so much as a sideways glance, enclosing Li Yan's group within the grounds. They were presumably there to maintain order.

On the raised platform, behind a desk, sat a broad chair occupied by a burly man. Even while seated, he was taller than an ordinary grown man. His complexion was slightly sallow, and his head was bald. Sunlight spilling down from the sky made the top of his head glimmer faintly gold. His face was broad, with a sparse, coarse beard. A long scar ran from his right temple down to the corner of his mouth, the flesh within it twisted outward as though a brilliantly colored centipede were crawling across his face. His back was ramrod straight, and even seated in his chair, he exuded an air that seemed to press down upon the entire field.

Yet his gaze was fixed ahead of the platform, at the left-hand corner directly facing him. A tent stood there, precisely opposite the line where Li Yan and the others were standing.

Li Yan was also secretly surveying the field and the platform. He stood at the very back of the line, and their line was positioned toward one side of the drill ground, so he could not see the platform clearly. He could only make out a desk atop it and a bald, burly man seated in the broad chair behind it.

At that moment, the soldier who had brought them in called out in a low voice, "Be careful. The man on the platform is Marshal Hong. You are not to look around. Wait your turn. After the person ahead of you comes out of the tent, the next person may enter in turn."

The soldier paused, an indescribable expression appearing on his face. Then he pointed at the middle line of forty or fifty people and continued, "After you come out, go stand at the back of that middle line and wait for the assessment. Once you pass the assessment, you may stand over there." He then pointed toward the line on the far left, where around seventy or eighty people stood.

"If you fail the assessment, you will be eliminated. Leave directly through the side gate at the back. Someone will explain the specifics to you when the time comes." With that, he nodded to the soldiers at the front of their line, then turned and headed back toward the gate.

Standing at the back of the line, Li Yan listened to the soldier's words and vaguely felt that something did not add up. Yet for a time, he could not figure out what it was. After frowning and thinking for a while, he suddenly recalled the soldier's words: "This group has to enter the tent first. After coming out, they go to the middle line for the assessment."

Directly ahead of the middle line was another area enclosed by tall wooden fences. They could not see inside, but the raised platform overlooked the entire field and could clearly see what went on there. That fenced area was surely where the assessment took place. As for what the assessment involved, Li Guoxin had already told him on the road: lifting stone locks, running, simple martial techniques, and such. Li Yan believed that with the physique he had built from hunting in the mountains year-round, along with the fists and kicks he had learned from the village hunters, none of that should pose a problem.

But those were not the things Li Yan was considering now. He mulled it over in his heart. The soldier said that after going to the middle line, we can be assessed. Those who succeed go to the far-left line, while those eliminated leave through the rear side gate. That means the crowded line on the far side must be those who have already been selected, while the middle line is for those waiting to be assessed. So what is this line I'm in for? Registration? But the soldier only said to enter the tent, then stand in the middle line after coming out. And when he said that, his expression was rather strange. Li Yan had watched the soldier closely while he spoke, afraid of missing any important words. Thinking back on it now, he found it all deeply puzzling.

Li Yan stood there lost in thought when a voice suddenly rang out beside his ear. "Hey, you at the very back! What are you standing around for?" Startled from his thoughts, Li Yan realized that as people kept entering the tent ahead of him, the line had moved forward by quite a distance. Yet he had forgotten to follow because he was thinking, and since he had been at the very back, no one behind him had urged him onward. Now he stood alone, completely separated from the line and conspicuous as a crane among chickens. A soldier ahead came over and berated him.

The young men who had come to enlist at the front of the line turned at the shout. A few of them snickered quietly. This time, the Imperial Guard was only recruiting one hundred and fifty men. To them, everyone who had come to enlist was a competitor. Since they could not directly strike at their rivals, mockery was another form of attack.

Li Yan hurriedly gave the soldier an apologetic smile and quickly caught up with the line, as though he had not heard the quiet laughter at all. The soldier glanced at him, snorted softly, and said nothing further. But when he passed those who had been snickering, he sternly rebuked them, "Want to be eliminated outright? If not, then keep yourselves in line." At those words, the faces of the few who had mocked Li Yan immediately turned pale. They hastily lowered their heads, not daring to look at the soldier again. Seeing this, the soldier withdrew his gaze and walked back toward the front of the line.

Once Li Yan had taken up the last position again, he thought, It must be the registration area. But this registration setup is far too stingy. This enormous drill ground could easily fit a dozen tables lined up side by side. Wouldn't registration be much faster that way?

As he thought this, he belatedly remembered the soldier's earlier words: "Marshal Hong." Yes, Marshal Hong. The person on the platform was Marshal Hong, a figure like a god of war in their region, who had repeatedly defeated the enemies of the Meng Kingdom. Though Li Yan had only heard stories about Marshal Hong before, those stories had already erected a godlike image in the young man's heart.

He secretly raised his head to look toward the platform. By now, he had moved much closer and could more or less see the man upon it clearly. So this is what Marshal Hong looks like. He is truly imposing—no wonder he can cow those enemy bandits.

Once a person had formed an opinion of someone or something, they tended to be influenced by that first impression. It either became a favorable view or an intensely hateful one. With Marshal Hong's appearance, most people would likely have thought him fierce-faced and baleful, like some vicious fiend. Yet in Li Yan's heart, not only did he not seem evil, but exceptionally commanding.

After watching the platform for a while longer, Li Yan noticed that Marshal Hong seemed very concerned with this side. He rarely looked toward the middle line's assessment inside the tall fence. Instead, he mostly sat turned toward the tent on their side, watching it. Each time someone entered or emerged from the tent, his brows lifted slightly, as though something were on his mind.