“I never thought we’d get to see Young Master Lan in the flesh.”

“I never thought Young Master Lan would be this young, and still able to write a work for the ages. Extraordinary!”

“Come on. Everybody thank Young Master Lan!”

Dozens of big men, standing in a ring around Ning Chen, bowed over clasped fists all at once and said it together: “Thank you, Young Master Lan!”

Ning Chen dug his toes into the ground with embarrassment.

That is a very particular way to thank somebody.

“There’s really no need for all this. I only wrote the lyric out of respect for Old General Chen.”

He had barely finished when a deep, heavy voice came from behind them. “What do you think you’re doing? Is that any way to treat an honored guest?”

Ning Chen turned. It was Old General Chen.

The middle-aged man from the gate said, “Old General, Young Master Lan untied the knot in your chest with one lyric. We’re thanking him for it.”

“Get back to your training, all of you. Thank him like that and you’ll frighten him off.”

The crowd parted. Ning Chen came forward quickly and bowed. “Lan Xing greets Old General Chen!”

“No need to stand on ceremony.” Old General Chen said it with a laugh. “Are your injuries healed?”

“Thank you for thinking of me, Old General Chen. All healed.”

He nodded and turned to the middle-aged man beside him. “Yuanzhong. Lan Xing has come to learn a little self-defense so he can protect himself.”

“He’s weak and depleted. Start him off with some conditioning. And remember — don’t wear him out.”

Ning Chen wanted to laugh. In this language the man’s name sounded almost exactly like the word for a poor sap.

Yuanzhong looked puzzled. “Sir, I’d say Young Master Lan’s skill is no worse than mine.”

Old General Chen looked thrown.

Yuanzhong explained. “Just now I grabbed Young Master Lan’s wrist. His reaction was extraordinarily fast. He not only broke the hold, he drove me back.”

His expression went from thrown to astonished.

He turned to Ning Chen. “You’ve trained in fighting?”

Ning Chen had been a special forces commander. Grappling and hand-to-hand, climbing and reconnaissance, wrestling and striking — he was thoroughly trained in all of it, and he’d dabbled in some of the old classical fighting arts besides.

The trouble was that this body was so weak now that most of it was beyond him.

Coming to the general’s residence was exactly about that: train properly, and get strong.

Faced with Old General Chen’s question, though, Ning Chen shook his head. “I’ve never trained. I’ve read a few books on fighting and worked at it on my own for a while, that’s all.”

“Just what I’d expect from Young Master Lan. A born genius. Worked at it on his own and he can still drive me back. Remarkable!”

Yuanzhong’s face was full of admiration. He paused, then went on, “Young Master Lan’s counter just now was sharp and fast. It’s only that his body is weak. There’s no power behind it.”

“Old General, Young Master Lan is a natural at this. Give him a little time and I believe he could become a first-rate fighter.”

Old General Chen’s face lit up with delight.

“So the heroes really do come up young! A gift for verse that has no equal, an understanding of strategy, and now a natural at fighting. Train hard. If you ever want the battlefield, I can recommend you.”

Ning Chen said modestly, “Old General Chen praises me too highly.”

“Good boy. I don’t even know whose son you are. To raise a child as fine as this, your parents must be blessed people indeed.”

The corner of Ning Chen’s mouth twitched.

His mother had been deceived by a worthless man, sickened with grief past any medicine, and died young.

Ning Ziming, that dog, was living extremely comfortably.

Good people die young and the vicious last a thousand years.

Then Ning Chen stopped short. I’ve started thinking of myself as this world’s Ning Chen.

“Lan Xing. When do you want to start?”

Ning Chen said, “Would now be all right?”

Old General Chen laughed. “Impatient, too. Good. Yuanzhong, take Lan Xing to the drill ground.”

“Lan Xing, don’t go home at midday. I’ll lay on a meal. You’ll drink a couple of cups with me.”

Ning Chen bowed over clasped fists. “As you command.”

The general’s residence covered a great deal of ground, with a drill ground of its own.

In this capital, the only men who dared keep private soldiers were the Xuan Emperor and Old General Chen.

Though these men were all on the register — old subordinates who had served under Old General Chen — and there weren’t many of them.

Ning Chen followed Yuanzhong to the drill ground.

He’d asked on the way. The man’s surname was Qi — Qi Yuanzhong.

Out on the drill ground a crowd of hard-looking men were running laps stripped to the waist, muscles knotted, logs across their shoulders, sweat coming off them like rain.

Something went distant in Ning Chen for a moment. It was as if he’d been dropped straight back into his old life in the barracks.

“Young Master Lan, run with them for now. Loosen the body up first.”

“Right.”

Ning Chen didn’t waste words. He took off the heavy cloak, folded it, and set it aside, then pulled off the thin shirt underneath, baring a scrawny upper body.

He looked down at himself. Like a rack of ribs come to life. It was a little embarrassing.

Qi Yuanzhong said with a smile, “Young Master Lan, it’s too cold and you’re not strong. Don’t catch a chill.”

“It’s fine, Brother Qi. You don’t have to make special allowances for me.”

Ning Chen walked over and hauled a log onto his shoulder with difficulty. His legs shook under him.

Qi Yuanzhong said quickly, “Young Master Lan, take a thinner one. Nobody got fat in one bite. We’ll work up to it.”

Ning Chen agreed, embarrassed.

Because at this point running was out of the question. Walking was hard enough.

In the end he swapped it for a thinner log and started running with the soldiers.

But this body was in terrible condition. One lap and he was gasping.

“Young Master Lan, take a rest?”

These were the same men who had ringed him at the gate.

Seeing him flushed to the ears and running with sweat, they were worried his body couldn’t take it.

“I’m fine. This is nothing. Sweat more in training and you bleed less in war. Come on. Run.”

They had assumed a frail young gentleman like Lan Xing would manage two laps at most.

Instead Ning Chen ran more than ten without stopping. Sweat flew off him and he was blowing like an ox, but he showed no sign of quitting.

That kind of will earned the respect of every old soldier there.

The young gentlemen of the capital went out on horseback or in sedan chairs, soft and spineless. That a man of Lan Xing’s gifts was willing to deal with rough men like them at all — and had this much grit — was a genuine surprise.

“Young Master Lan, that’s fifteen. Take a rest?”

Qi Yuanzhong called it out, afraid Ning Chen would do himself real harm.

“No need. I’ve got a few more in me.”

Ning Chen ran a full twenty laps before he stopped.

A crowd of them came around him — one with water, another kneading his shoulders, working the blood back through him and easing the ache out of the muscle.

“Young Master Lan, a poem of yours is worth a thousand pieces of gold now. Sell one and you’d never want for food or drink. Why come out here and put yourself through this?”

Someone asked, curious.

Ning Chen gave a short laugh. “The body is the only real capital. Everything else is smoke.”

“Think about it. Say I’m sitting on mountains of gold and silver with beautiful women all around me — and the body won’t do what I want. The heart is willing and the flesh isn’t. Wouldn’t that be a tragedy?”

“Take a trip to a pleasure house. You spend plenty of silver, and then your own body lets you down. What a waste of money. And you get laughed at for it.”

Get a crowd of rough men started on women and there is no stopping them. Every kind of filthy remark came out at once.

“I didn’t expect Young Master Lan to be a man of true feeling!”

“Young Master Lan, when I’ve saved enough I’m taking you to the courtesans’ quarter.”

“Young Master Lan, are you free tonight? Let me take you to the pleasure houses to hear some music.”

(End of Chapter 20)