Chapter 2: The Bet

　　Upon first entering the Wei Kingdom, the border garrison commander had already presented them with a map of Qinchuan, and at the same time, they were informed that from this point on, cultivators were forbidden to use their qi to soar into the high skies—this was a long‑standing rule of Wei.

　　The reason was quite simple: to the north of Qinchuan, within Wei territory, fierce gales frequently swept across the upper air. These winds came and went without pattern, their origins unknown, and no one could predict how long they would last—sometimes a single day, sometimes several months.

　　The gales were exceedingly dangerous and terrifying. Apart from cultivators who had reached the Divine Attainment realm, almost no one could survive an encounter with them. Only winged birds could fly through those skies; even if a land‑bound creature hitched a ride on a bird's back, it would not escape unscathed in the gales.

　　Thus, the Wei Kingdom had decreed that within its borders, cultivators were forbidden to take to the air.

　　Such mortal laws held no power over cultivators, but this rule was meant to prevent unnecessary losses, and also served as a notification to cultivators from other lands.

　　Though everyone understood this was a helpless necessity on Wei's part, it was hard for cultivators—accustomed to covering hundreds of miles in a single flight, crossing thousands of miles in the blink of an eye—to accept such inconvenience. The whole party, worn out and bitter, could only vent their frustration with a round of colorful cursing.

　　It was also because of this peculiarity that commerce in the Wei Kingdom was extremely underdeveloped. Merchants from various countries generally kept their distance from any business ventures into Wei. The reason was simple: everything had to be transported on foot, and the mere cost of materials was several times higher than elsewhere, leaving traveling traders with almost no profit to speak of.

　　Xiaotong and his party had no better option; they could only walk on foot like mortals. But only after setting out did they truly understand the profound meaning behind the old saying "Travel is hard" that they had read in books.

　　Fortunately, the servants were able to keep up as well, and the party moved forward slowly, finally making it past the most difficult stretch of the road.

　　They had been traveling for nearly a month, and after entering Qinchuan, they had already spent over ten days winding through the mountains. The road through Qinchuan was hard—harder than scaling the heavens. They had to climb higher and higher without respite. The pack horses grew weak, and even the Shu horses, meant for riding, seemed to have eaten some poisonous herbs, for every one of them went lame and feeble. In the end, the party had no choice but to abandon their mounts and continue on foot, climbing step by step.

　　At first, seeing everyone else walking on foot, Xiaotong grew curious and decided to imitate them—chest out, head high, striding forward with a swaggering air. Just as he was happily looking around, he happened to catch the little girl's mocking expression, and a feeling of dissatisfaction crept into his heart.

　　The two children had always been at odds. Burning with resentment, Xiaotong argued with the little girl, and egged on by her taunts, they made a bet: whoever could reach the highest peak without using cultivation to protect themselves would be the winner.

　　Head high, chest out, Xiaotong walked for about an hour on foot. Soon, his legs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead, and his breath came in ragged gasps like a broken bellows. All his earlier lofty spirits had vanished without a trace.

　　His mind raced through a few thoughts, and he made up his mind. He shuffled over to the servant who was holding the horses. The servant, seeing Xiaotong approach, immediately understood and quietly handed him the lead rope of his Shu horse.

　　Xiaotong had his own personal Shu horse mount, a gift bestowed by his father the king at his coming-of-age ceremony. He was normally very protective of it and reluctant to ride it himself—first, because the Shu horse had not yet fully matured, and second, because Xiaotong himself possessed a Qi Refining level of cultivation, which would have made climbing Qinchuan entirely effortless under normal circumstances.

　　Xiaotong had named his Shu horse "Hanhan." It was a rare and extraordinary beast—though not yet fully grown, it was already as tall and magnificent as a full-grown adult Shu horse, with an impressive bearing.

　　Later, because of the bet between the two children, Hanhan—who was usually inseparable from Xiaotong—let out an excited whinny at the sight of its young master approaching. Then, with unspoken understanding, it stepped forward to Xiaotong's side. Xiaotong set his foot in the stirrup and was about to swing himself up into the saddle.

　　But just as Hanhan was happily anticipating the ride, it suddenly felt a sharp sting on its rump and bolted forward with a start. Xiaotong's mount was suddenly empty beneath him. He whirled around and saw the little girl glaring at him, her expression clearly saying that riding a horse counted as cheating—and cheating meant admitting defeat.

　　Xiaotong was in no mood to admit defeat at this point. Seeing that there was no way to take a shortcut, he and his horse exchanged a helpless glance. He had no choice but to continue on foot. Aunt Hui and the household guards followed around him, saying nothing about the bet between the two children.

　　Now he had brought this hardship upon himself. Along the way, the road twisted and turned, and many of the paths up the peaks were as narrow as goat trails, steep beyond measure.

　　Unable to use his cultivation, Xiaotong was utterly exhausted after just two days. But the little girl would not let up—every time she sensed that Xiaotong was about to give up, she would let out a mocking snicker. Each time, it made Xiaotong grit his teeth in silent fury, dragging himself forward one painful step after another.

　　The household guards and servants had long grown accustomed to the two children's bickering. Along this long and weary journey, it added a bit of liveliness to their days.

　　Even Luo Huangyi was pleased to see it unfold. The two children had grown up smoothly and comfortably; this arduous trek on foot, with all its hardship, was not without value—a rare opportunity for tempering.

　　Whenever Xiaotong's foot slipped and he tumbled to the ground, a few of the maidservants could not help but let out a snicker. Xiaotong, however, did not get angry—he simply put on a stern face and shot the little girl a fierce glare.

　　Unfortunately, the little girl always remained utterly indifferent to Xiaotong's defiant displays. She moved along the path with light, steady steps, as if it cost her no effort at all—and she was clearly not using any cultivation to protect herself. Xiaotong could not help but feel a twinge of envy as he watched.

　　This stretch of the route through Qinchuan—notorious for its ruggedness and sheer steepness—was nonetheless lined with breathtaking scenery. Rare and exotic flowers filled the eye, and strange birds and beasts appeared at every turn. As the party made their way deeper into the Wei lands, there was so much to take in that they could scarcely keep their eyes from wandering. The scenery unfolded like a painting, captivating all who beheld it.

　　Xiaotong, too, was utterly spellbound—his mouth agape at the sight of soaring clouds, plunging waterfalls, and delicate rainbows arching across the bright sky. Along the way, he gasped and shouted in delight, exclaiming again and again how marvelous it all was.

　　Ever since the little girl had struck Hanhan's rump with her palm, putting an end to any hope of riding, Xiaotong had gritted his teeth and pressed on for three days. But in the end, the pain in his feet and the numbness in his legs got the better of him. Just as he reached the top of the slope, he threw a fit of temper—he had endured so much hardship, and he had lost the bet besides.

　　Seeing that he was nursing sore feet, the little girl said nothing more. She seemed indifferent to winning or losing—remarkably carefree and composed for one so young.

　　Fortunately, a few words from Chen Jiang lifted Xiaotong's spirits once more. After resting, he would be able to ride his Shu horse again. Even if he could not ride right away, at least the bet was over, and he no longer had to push through with sheer physical endurance alone.

　　Xiaotong glanced at his Shu horse. Hanhan was lowering its head, chewing on the grass by the roadside. When it sensed Xiaotong's gaze, it raised its head and looked back at its young master.

　　Hanhan was naturally different from other Shu horses. Its tail was pure white, and the tiger-like stripes on its body were particularly vivid and distinct. Though still not fully grown, it was already as tall as a full‑grown adult Shu horse.

　　The horse had been gifted to Xiaotong by his father the king three years ago as a coming‑of‑age present—a customary tradition for males of the Chen Kingdom. In Chen, when a boy turned seven, he would receive a Shu horse mount from an elder at his coming‑of‑age ceremony. From the royal house down to the common folk, there were no exceptions.

　　The Shu horse was exceptionally enduring, a breed unique to the Chen Kingdom. It was a crossbred descendant of the Lushu—a creature said to be an ancient divine beast from the age of myth, though the Lushu itself had long since vanished from the world.

　　According to legend, the ancestors of the Chen Kingdom had once encountered a great fortune from heaven and earth. They stumbled upon a sacred mountain, where the divine beast Lushu aided them, and from that aid, the Chen Kingdom was founded. Later, the divine beast returned to the mountains and disappeared without a trace, but it left behind its hybrid descendants with horses—and these came to be known as the Shu horses.

　　A strong and sturdy Shu horse could cover ten thousand li in a single day and run for three consecutive days without rest. They were deeply beloved by the people of Chen and honored as the national beast.

　　The Shu horse bestowed by Xiaotong's father had been different from ordinary Shu horses since it was young—not only tall and imposing in stature, but also exceptionally intelligent. Some had called it a rare variant of the Shu horse breed, and Xiaotong cherished it deeply, keeping it by his side day and night.

　　Yet this white‑tailed Shu horse was something of a lazy creature, not as lively as other young Shu horses. But because it was so splendid to look at, Xiaotong treasured it like a precious gem, never abandoning it, and even gave it a name.

　　The maidservants and servants found it amusing—naming a Shu horse was a rare thing indeed. They usually called the horse "Big Hanhan" and Xiaotong "Little Hanhan" among themselves. When Xiaotong happened to overhear it, he paid it no mind.

　　The Shu horse Hanhan shared a remarkable bond with Xiaotong, always able to divine his young master's thoughts as if by some uncanny instinct—though where this ability came from, no one could say.

　　When it saw Xiaotong looking its way, Hanhan, still chewing on a mouthful of grass, nudged him gently with its head. After swallowing the grass, it let out a couple of low, throaty whinnies.

　　Seeing that Xiaotong had finally settled down, Chen Jiang turned and made his way toward the gray‑covered carts.

　　There were twelve carts in total, now come to a halt. Yet each of them was still quivering and shifting. And every time Chen Jiang walked past one, the movement beneath the gray cloth would freeze for an instant, then fall utterly still.

　　Chen Jiang started from the front and walked all the way to the rear of the cart train. By the time he reached the end, the entire line of carts had fallen silent.

　　One of the black-turbaned guards following him asked, "Commander Chen, shall we release them now?"

　　Chen Jiang nodded. The guard continued, "This will be the last one."

　　In truth, Chen Jiang knew that this guard had questions in his mind, but was simply not at liberty to voice them directly. Along the journey, Chen Jiang had already released three of the beasts he had prepared in advance. As for the reason behind it, he had kept his mouth shut tight, and to every question from the other guards, he had repeatedly remained silent.

　　Guards had their duties, and the foremost among them was to protect their master with courage and devotion. Second came the principle of not asking or gossiping about secrets they were not meant to know. If Chen Jiang did not speak, the guards did not ask. More often than not, knowing too much was hardly a good thing.

　　As they spoke, Chen Jiang arrived at the third cart from the end. He took hold of a corner of the gray cloth with one hand, and without any visible exertion, the entire vast sheet of gray fabric was pulled aside soundlessly, revealing the iron cage beneath.

　　The cage was built with thick iron bars and a very fine mesh. The gray cloth had only been pulled back to expose one corner of the cage, leaving the interior still shrouded in darkness. For the moment, it was impossible to see what was inside.

　　"Commander Chen, over here," the accompanying guard said, pulling the gray cloth further aside on the other side to reveal the cage door. Chen Jiang nodded, reached into the pouch at his waist, took out a small square token, and tossed it to the guard.

　　The guard took the small token and pressed it into a recessed slot on the cage door. A faint click sounded, and a round opening appeared in the door, about the size of a washbasin. Seeing the cage door open, the guard quickly stepped back to one side.

　　Chen Jiang caught the token as the guard tossed it back, tucked it into his robe, and watched in silence as the opening continued to widen. Without pausing, he produced another object—one attached to a length of fine chain—and looped the chain around his wrist. Slowly, he moved to stand directly before the cage door and stopped.

　　After a few moments, the expansion of the round opening came to a halt. Then, in plain view of the two men, a strange bird's head slowly emerged from within—short-beaked, round-headed, with three short crimson crest feathers atop its crown, lying flat against its skull. Its eyes were as small as soybeans, black as ink, and its long neck was thickly feathered.

　　The creature's head emerged and then paused, neither screeching nor making any other move. Its two ink-black eyes fixed intently upon the object dangling from Chen Jiang's wrist.

　　Man and bird stood locked in that silent standoff. Then, slowly, Chen Jiang extended the hand with the fine chain still further, pressing it gently against the three flattened crest feathers on the bird's head—and held it there without moving.

　　Seeing this, the other guard quickly retreated several steps and stood on full alert.

　　Thus they remained—the strange bird stretching forth its neck, Chen Jiang reaching out his hand. Both seemed utterly motionless. Yet within moments, Chen Jiang's feet had begun to sink gradually into the ground. Veins bulged across his forehead, beads of sweat rolled down his body, and soon a thin mist of vapor rose from his clothes. The whole process was deeply strange, yet utterly silent.

　　After several breaths, Chen Jiang relaxed. He raised his other hand and clasped it around the bird's neck. The chain-linked object slid into place around the bird's throat, slowly tightened, and within moments vanished into its thick plumage.

　　The guard standing on alert knew that the task was done. Chen Jiang withdrew his hands and stepped back several paces. A low, muffled cry sounded, and the strange bird spread its wings and vanished into the forest. All that the onlookers saw was a fleeting black shadow—too fast to identify, too quick to track.

　　Once the bird had disappeared, Chen Jiang turned and walked away. The accompanying guard drew the gray cloth back over the cage, then crouched down and pulled out from beneath the cart a massive bird-creature—listless and barely alive. He dragged it slowly to the roadside weeds, tossed it carelessly into the wild grass, and walked off without a backward glance.