Chapter 76 - Rebel
Upon reaching an accord with Tang Yue, Wang Zizhao experienced a profound sense of relief. His newfound leisure time was dedicated to an exhaustive study of the carriage's syringes and centrifuges. Occasionally, he would devise innovative ideas to assist Wang Zizhao in case of a mental impasse.
On that particular day, Tang Yue's intricate sketch of the formidable heavy armor captivated Wang Zizhao so completely that he remained oblivious to the darkening skies.
Inside the carriage, their sole occupants were Tang Yue and Wang Zizhao. As their conversations grew deeper, Wang Zizhao dispensed with the need for attendants.
As the final glimmer of sunlight vanished below the horizon, Wang Zizhao furrowed his brow and inquired, “Tang Yue, do you believe it's feasible to outfit these heavy armors on horses?”
Tang Yue contemplated this, biting his pen as he crumpled a chaotic white cloth into a ball. An assortment of unproductive sketches lay scattered at his feet. Drawing the centrifuge theory proved far beyond his capabilities.
Straightening up and massaging his aching shoulders, he replied, “Cavalry can be categorized into light and heavy units. Light cavalry offers greater agility and can withdraw swiftly, whereas heavy cavalry wields superior lethality. Whether in offense or defense, they possess an edge over their lighter counterparts.”
“Heavy armor augments a horse's endurance but diminishes its mobility significantly. It demands both exceptional horse quality and personnel competence. Equipping such a unit is indeed an arduous task.”
“I once pondered constructing an unbeatable army, but neither weaponry nor troops met my expectations.” Wang Zizhao traced his finger over the blueprint's rudimentary illustration, envisioning its realization. A faint smile graced his lips.
If he could truly succeed, it would undoubtedly result in an invincible armed force!
Tang Yue's mind drifted to a movie he had watched previously, where heavily armored soldiers effortlessly sliced through their foes like a hot knife through butter. The impact left an indelible impression on anyone who witnessed it.
If he could transform the images on screens into tangible reality, it would undoubtedly be the most awe-inspiring spectacle he had ever encountered in both his lifetimes.
After shedding his worries, Tang Yue found himself unburdened by the “golden finger” matter. As long as he could enjoy a few decades of happiness, the course of his era didn't concern him anymore.
“It's easier to train strong soldiers than it is to train strong horses. The bloodline of South Jin's horses is inferior to North Yue's. If we can import high-quality horses from North Yue, we can form a cavalry of a thousand men in just a few years.”
Wang Zizhao tapped the window lightly, signaling the team to halt. The passengers inside remained motionless, while those outside had no choice but to wait.
Zhao Sanlang playfully interacted with Ping Shun, occasionally stifling a laugh.
Hu Jinpeng cast a resigned glance at them and couldn't help but sigh. Given their performance so far, defeating their enemies would be a challenging task. He couldn't help but imagine how State Duke's son would handle a carriage, a sight that might amuse Ye City for years.
He reined in his horse about five paces from the carriage and inquired, “Your Highness, should we make camp and bury them?”
A moment of silence hung in the carriage before Wang Zizhao's slightly raspy voice responded, “Yes.”
Wang Zizhao's voice had undergone a noticeable change, becoming both soft and hoarse. Tang Yue secretly chuckled and shared some dietary tips to help him regain his strength.
Youth was of paramount importance. Tang Yue had missed the prime period for recuperation and had always been frail. Considering Wang Zizhao's condition, Tang Yue did his utmost to provide the care he needed.
He had once envisioned adopting a son and nurturing him when he found his lover. He had even drawn up detailed plans for each developmental stage.
Sadly, this beautiful aspiration had barely begun to take shape before fate played a trick on him, thrusting him into this entirely unfamiliar world.
Uncertainty clouded his belief in achieving his dream within this world. The mere contemplation of such a life held immense allure, yet it seemed impossibly distant.
As Tang Yue stepped out of the car, he noticed Ping Shun racing toward him from a distance, with Wang Zizhao abruptly halting, his demeanor wavering.
“Did you bring him to the battlefield for his own development?” Wang Zizhao inquired, observing Ping Shun, who had noticeably shed weight.
“It's not overly demanding. My hope is simply that he can alter his way of living and avoid a pig-like existence.”
Describing Noble Heir of State Duke Heng's previous life as akin to a pig was not an exaggeration. Yet, what took Tang Yue by surprise was that no misfortune emerged from such a chaotic and tranquil existence.
This revelation brought Tang Yue both relief and concern regarding his well-being.
“Noble Heir, did Zhao Sanlang bully you again?” Tang Yue intentionally raised his voice.
Laughter rippled through the group, causing Ping Shun to flush crimson. He shot Noble Heir a fierce look and scurried away.
As he retreated, Tang Yue called out after him, “Why not stand up to him? You're taller and heavier. One fist against two. What's there to fear?”
“Hey, Tang Xiaolang! Tang Yue! … What's this about? Playing both sides?” Zhao Sanlang placed his hands on his hips, vexed.
“We're just trying to mend fences, Sanlang. Why so worked up? How about this: you spar with Noble Heir. The loser has to call the other ‘brother.'”
“I'm older than him!” Zhao Sanlang didn't agree.
Tang Yue couldn't ignore the fact that Zhao Sanlang, despite being older, constantly tormented Ping Shun. He justified it as mere boredom, as he viewed Ping Shun as a source of amusement rather than malice.
Among the team members, only Tang Yue and Zhao Sanlang were evenly matched. They shared similar backgrounds and could engage in friendly competition. Hu Jinpeng, significantly more skilled, showed no interest in interacting with them.
Conversely, Zhao Sanlang's half-brother displayed a consistent disdainful attitude toward them, seemingly disassociating from his own sibling.
During their journey, Tang Yue carefully observed the State Protector Prefecture's bastard son and recognized his capability. However, he also noticed the bastard son's excessive arrogance, narrow-mindedness, and penchant for showing off—qualities that Tang Yue found highly disagreeable.
When Tang Yue disliked someone, he couldn't resist the urge to torment them. And so, he devised a plan to use Zhao Sanlang to assert dominance over the arrogant individual.
However, achieving this meant placing Zhao Sanlang on the training list, thereby granting him the status and abilities required for the task.
Zhao Sanlang, noticing Ping Shun's return, rolled up his sleeves defiantly, challenging, “If you want to fight, let's do it. I'm not afraid of you!”
Encouraged by Tang Yue, Ping Shun hesitated momentarily but then rushed forward.
The ensuing fight unfolded rapidly, with Zhao Sanlang demonstrating some martial prowess, albeit within conventional techniques.
Yet, when facing the unpredictable Noble Heir, whose actions defied common martial conventions, Zhao Sanlang found himself completely disoriented within a few moves.
Noble Heir reclined, attempting to use his body weight to suppress his adversary. Zhao Sanlang discerned his intentions and swiftly delivered a kick to Noble Heir's rear. Regrettably, this move didn't send his opponent soaring; instead, it led to a counterattack that resulted in his own fall.
Initially, the surrounding soldiers were mere spectators, quietly observing the spectacle. However, as the atmosphere grew increasingly animated, they couldn't resist joining in with taunts and jeers.
Their shouts filled the air, urging, “Hurry, exert pressure… Noble Heir, come on…”
On the opposite side, another voice chimed in, “Gongzi Xian, swiftly rise and employ the monkey's ‘pluck the peach' technique…”
Tang Yue, sensing the escalating excitement, couldn't help but add his voice to the chorus. Wang Zizhao, on the sidelines, stood witness to their skirmish.
“Nothing as bizarre as this has ever occurred within my ranks!”
Tang Yue paused briefly before chuckling. “Discipline certainly has its place in the army. However, building the necessary camaraderie is just as crucial. Unity is the most effective means of forging a formidable army.”
“Camaraderie?” Wang Zizhao mumbled to himself, “Aren't soldiers supposed to be solemn?”
Tang Yue remained oblivious to his murmurs as he retrieved a small drum from the logistics team, rhythmically beating it while singing. “Qiyue Wuyi? Clad in the same attire as his son. Wang Yuxing, mend my spear. In unison with his progeny!
Qiyue Wuyi? The enmity between him and his son. Wang Yuxing Shi, refine my spear and halberd. Aligned with Zi Tongze!
Qiyue Wuyi? Donning identical garments as his son. Wang Yuxing, mend my armor. In harmony with Zi Tongchang!…”
The crowd hushed in an instant, even the two young masters entangled like a knot shifted their attention, fixing their gaze upon Tang Yue.
The drum's reverberations didn't elicit excitement in the audience; rather, it felt as if a hand was pounding on their hearts, evoking memories of life-and-death struggles on the battlefield.
The dissonant hum filled the sky above the grassy field, creating a lyrical composition that moved people to tears.
Their minds drifted back to their former comrades, remembering how they had called out to each other, offered mutual support, risked their lives, and even harbored grudges against one another.
Zhao Sanlang released his grip on his own neck and inquired, “Fatty, if we were to face the enemy together on the battlefield one day, would you stand by my side?”
Ping Shun hesitated momentarily, then nodded. “As long as you don't taunt me, Noble Heir, for being as dense as a pig, I'd be willing to lend a hand.”
Zhao Sanlang clicked his tongue and suddenly landed a punch on Ping Shun's face. “Chi, with you around, what good would you be for me?”
Ping Shun was provoked by the punch and pressed his knee into Zhao Sanlang's abdomen.
Zhao Sanlang yelped and quickly rose from the ground, charging at Ping Shun in frustration.
Thus, the intense emotions that had welled up were dissipated by these two young masters who only knew how to jest.
Laughter filled the air, and they continued to channel their enthusiasm into a less intense, playful skirmish.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fre𝒆webnove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺