The poor old ox. Though usually tended to meticulously by Yang the Third, today it was truly suffering. Its back fur was a tangled mess from the whip, and it panted heavily as it rushed forward. The dust kicked up by the cart wheels left a long tail on the dirt road.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, and the outline of Yang Family Village became faintly visible up ahead. Yang the Third cracked his whip, his voice growing even louder. "Yah! We’re almost home!"

The moment the oxcart rumbled over the stone bridge at the village entrance, Yang the Third threw back his head and bellowed, "Yang Jing passed! Yang Jing became a military scholar, fourth on the list!"

His voice was resonant, spreading through the village like the banging of a gong.

The women turning grain in the sunning-grounds, the old men squatting by the walls smoking their pipes, and the children rolling in the mud—all were startled by the shout. One by one, they straightened up and looked toward the village entrance.

"What? He passed the exam?"

"The results are out?"

Amid the murmurs, villagers began to flock toward the entrance in twos and threes. Before long, they had completely swarmed the oxcart.

Yang the Third had no time to answer their questions. He leaped from the cart’s shaft and sprinted deeper into the village, shouting as he went. "The military exam results are posted! The government has released the list! Yang Jing ranked fourth! He passed! Our village has a military scholar!"

A crowd of villagers followed him—some curious, some excited, and others still skeptical. They rushed boisterously toward Yang Jing’s home.

A crowd had already gathered outside the earthen walls of the Yang Family’s courtyard.

The courtyard gate opened with a CREAK, and Yang Jing’s mother, Liu Cui Ling, poked her head out. Having just heard the commotion, she looked confused. "Yang the Third? What’s going on?"

"Sister-in-law! Congratulations! This is wonderful news!"

Yang the Third rushed to the gate in just a few strides, his face flushed and his voice trembling. "Yang Jing passed! The list from the military exam! The official government posting—Yang Jing placed fourth! He’s a military scholar!"

Liu Cui Ling froze, her eyes going blank. It was as if she didn’t quite grasp what "military exam list" or "fourth" truly meant.

But the four words, "He’s a military scholar," she understood perfectly.

The village elders always said that becoming a scholar made you an official. It meant you could escape a life of toiling in the mud for food, and your family’s land would even be exempt from the endless, exorbitant taxes.

"What... what did you say?" Liu Cui Ling’s voice trembled. She gripped the doorframe so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"It’s true!" Yang the Third pounded his chest. "I saw the list at the city gate with my own eyes! The two words ’Yang Jing’ were written clear as day! There’s no mistake!"

BOOM. It felt as if something had exploded in her head. Tears instantly welled in Liu Cui Ling’s eyes, streaming down the wrinkles at their corners.

She covered her face, her shoulders trembling slightly as she mumbled, "Good... good... That boy... I always knew..."

In the courtyard, Grandfather Yang Shouzhuo was sitting on a stone stool smoking his pipe, while Grandmother Qin was sorting vegetables.

Hearing the commotion outside, the old couple came out as well.

"What’s going on?" Yang Shouzhuo frowned. The words had barely left his mouth when he heard what Yang the Third was saying.

The long-stemmed pipe in his hand fell to the ground with a CLATTER. Sparks flew from the bowl, scalding his foot, but he didn’t even notice.

The old man’s cloudy eyes suddenly blazed with light. He stared intently at Yang the Third, his lips trembling. "You... say that again?"

Grandmother Qin also stopped what she was doing, the green beans in her hand dropping into the bamboo basket. She looked at the villagers pouring in through the gate, then at her weeping daughter-in-law. Her own cloudy eyes slowly filled with tears, yet her lips stretched into a stiff smile.

It was as if the entire Yang Family Village had been struck dumb by the sudden news, leaving a ringing in its ears.

Suddenly, just as the villagers were chattering excitedly around the Yang Family’s gate, the sound of horse hooves, mixed with a few shouted orders, echoed from the end of the village path, growing steadily louder.

"Officials! It’s the Officials!"

Someone with sharp eyes made out the newcomers’ attire and cried out in alarm.

Startled, the villagers crowded around the gate all turned to look.

Through the swirling dust, they saw a troop of horsemen galloping toward them. In the lead was a magnificent black horse, followed by seven or eight tall steeds. Every rider wore gleaming armor with a long saber at his waist. They radiated a majestic yet grim aura—this was clearly a proper unit of government soldiers.

Leading this troop of soldiers, however, was an old man on a white horse. He wore a long blue-green robe, had a thin face, and sported a goatee. Looking more like a scholar, he seemed completely out of place among the brightly armored soldiers.

"Whoa—"

The goateed elder pulled his reins, and the troop halted a few dozen yards from the Yang Family’s home.

His gaze swept slowly over the crowd gathered ahead. He looked at the assembled villagers, his face expressionless, and simply gestured with his hand. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

A burly soldier beside him immediately dismounted. He strode over to a nearby villager who was craning his neck to watch the spectacle and asked, "Do you know where the home of Lord Yang Jing is?"

In times like these, wicked soldiers were no better than bandits.

The villager was so frightened by the soldier’s ferocious appearance that his knees nearly gave out. Stammering, he raised a trembling hand and pointed toward the Yang Family’s gate, which was mobbed by the crowd. "O-over... over there... It’s... it’s the house with the biggest crowd..."

The goateed elder glanced in the direction the villager pointed, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. He then let out a soft chuckle to the surrounding soldiers. His voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable authority. "Dismount. We’ll walk from here."

With that, he was the first to dismount. His movements, though slow, were possessed of a natural grace.

The soldiers behind him also dismounted crisply, and, leading their horses by the reins, followed the old man toward the Yang Family’s home.

The thud of hooves on the dirt path ceased, replaced by the increasingly clear, soft clinking of armor plates. The surrounding villagers instinctively held their breath, the boisterous noise dying down considerably.

"Gods above..."

Watching the soldiers advance in formation, the hearts of the villagers at the gate began to hammer in their chests. They instinctively shrank back.

In these chaotic times of war and strife, who hadn’t heard the saying that soldiers and bandits were two sides of the same coin?

Normally, one would go out of their way to avoid even a couple of soldiers on the road, let alone a whole troop of burly, menacing men in gleaming new armor. The grim aura that rolled off them was so oppressive it was almost hard to breathe.

"Make way, quickly, make way!"

Someone urged in a low voice, and the villagers hastily retreated to either side, clearing a wide path. They hardly dared to breathe, but their eyes couldn’t help darting toward the soldiers, stealing glances.

Their armor glinted under the sun, and the scabbards of the long sabers at their waists were a gleaming, polished black. One look was enough to tell this was no ordinary equipment.

Yang the Third stood at the very front of the crowd and had the clearest view of all.

He traveled to Yuhe County year-round and had seen his share of soldiers, but the men before him were completely different from those he was used to.

Ordinary soldiers might wear helmets and armor, but their posture was usually slack, their spirit lax. Not like this troop. Their backs were ramrod straight, their gazes as sharp as a hawk’s, and even their gait had a powerful cadence. Their armor, moreover, was without a single speck of rust, so new it looked like it had just been hammered out at the forge.

’This... these are...’

Yang the Third’s heart skipped a beat. He suddenly recalled seeing the County Magistrate on an outing in the county seat a few years back.

Back then, the County Magistrate’s carriage had been escorted by a troop of soldiers just like this one—their bearing, their equipment, their very appearance was identical to the men before him now!

"The County Magistrate’s Personal Soldiers!"

The thought leaped into his mind, and Yang the Third gasped. In an instant, his back was soaked with cold sweat.

The County Magistrate was the absolute authority in Yuhe County. For peasants like them, even gazing in his direction was an unthinkable luxury. His Personal Soldiers were the elite, the best of the best. Why would they ever come to a tiny place like Yang Family Village?

’Wait, it’s because of Yang Jing,’ he thought. ’He’s a military scholar now. The County Magistrate must have sent them to deliver the official announcement!’

Yang the Third ducked his head, his heart pounding as if it would leap from his throat as he watched the Personal Soldiers, flanking the goateed elder, draw closer and closer.