Chapter 183: Extra (13)
Xie Jing rode a round on the horse, thoroughly enjoying himself. After dismounting, he continued circling Bai Shisi, praising its strength and stamina. Being a horse enthusiast, he had discussed horses extensively with Bai Jiu in letters before, and now talking in person felt even more familiar and pleasant.
Xie Jing mentioned the horse racing in Sichuan, gently stroking the white horse’s broad nose while expressing slight regret: “Last time I entered the race, I was so close… if only I had taken first place.”
Bai Jiu asked, “The one you mentioned in your last letter?”
“Yes. I want to try again this year.”
The Sichuan horse races were unlike others; winning first place was a high honor. Last year, Xie Jing had carefully chosen a fine steed, fast enough for the race, but his marksmanship fell just short. Sichuan races tested more than riding skills—they evaluated skill on horseback. Xie Jing fired three shots, hitting all three, but a tenant from Guozhuang had an exceptional aim, scoring a “perforated gourd” — two bullets hitting the same spot, leaving a gourd-shaped mark in the target. A truly remarkable marksman.
Speaking of this, Xie Jing felt both regret and admiration for the Tibetan shooter. That was the charm of Sichuan: regardless of social rank, on race day, everyone was treated equally; those with skill received respect.
Bai Jiu said, “I happen to have someone with excellent marksmanship here. If you don’t mind, I can have him instruct you for a couple of days. No one in the Northern lands can match him in shooting.”
Xie Jing’s eyes lit up. “Great! When will he come?”
Bai Jiu chuckled. “If you’re free, I can call him over now.”
True to his word, Bai Jiu soon had Zhang Huwei brought over to instruct Xie Jing. After greeting Bai Jiu, Zhang Huwei smiled and said, “Just practicing shooting alone is boring. How about we hunt rabbits in the mountains? Shooting moving targets sharpens your aim; once your strength and control are steady, aiming at targets will be much easier.”
Xie Jing, fond of hunting, eagerly agreed.
Zhang Huwei took him to a nearby mountain for rabbit hunting. Bai Jiu followed behind, unobtrusive, occasionally giving pointers, clearly a skilled marksman himself.
By noon, Xie Jing had learned a lot. Zhang Huwei was indeed one of Bai Jiu’s elite, able to hit anything with remarkable precision. He could distinguish the smallest sounds and react instantly, especially when shooting moving targets. Xie Jing’s ears were sharp, but he had never seen anyone so capable, and immediately wanted to apprentice under him.
Zhang Huwei laughed heartily and waved him off. “Little Master, absolutely not!”
“Why not? You don’t think I’m capable?” Xie Jing asked.
“Not at all. You’re a friend of our Lord Bai Jiu. Anything you need, just ask!”
Xie Jing respected those with skill even more.
By noon, they stayed on the mountain, making a fire by a stream to roast the rabbits. Bai Jiu personally prepared the rabbits, skillfully skinning them, revealing he wasn’t some aloof noble.
Xie Jing admired him. Bai Jiu was perfect in every way—good temper, great skill, and even an expert at roasting rabbit. The meat sizzled with juices and aromas that made Xie Jing’s mouth water. He devoured a plump leg, while Bai Jiu slowly handled the rest, slicing portions with a dagger and serving Xie Jing. Seeing the boy eat with such satisfaction, Bai Jiu’s heart softened.
While eating, Xie Jing chatted: “Brother, how long will you stay in Sichuan? Just for business?”
Bai Jiu glanced at him. “If you win first place at the horse festival, I’ll tell you.”
Xie Jing smiled. “Then I must race well.”
Bai Jiu spoke in a low voice. Xie Jing leaned closer to listen, so near that Bai Jiu stopped and looked at him. Before Xie Jing could react, Bai Jiu reached out, thumb brushing near his mouth, quietly saying, “Eat slower.”
Xie Jing blushed, stiffened, and averted his gaze, instead praising Bai Shisi: “You… this horse is excellent.”
“Hmm?”
“Are all Northern horses this snowy color? And all this fast?”
Bai Jiu smiled. “Pick one. It’s yours.”
Xie Jing quickly pointed to one, and Bai Jiu had it led over, handing him the reins.
“These are all military horses—hard to tame, but loyal. I’ll ride with you a few laps to get familiar,” Bai Jiu instructed.
After breakfast, they went riding. Xie Jing felt slightly uneasy compared to the morning, self-conscious about oil stains or untidy clothes, but maintained his usual poise, secretly stealing glances at Bai Jiu.
Bai Jiu held the reins and pulled Xie Jing gently into his embrace on horseback. Gradually, Xie Jing relaxed, chatting: “Can you accompany me hunting every day?”
“Yes.”
“You also do business. Why aren’t you busy? My parents are always busy, only my uncle isn’t.” Curious, Xie Jing asked, “Do you have anyone helping you?”
Bai Jiu shook his head. “Not yet. In the future, could you help me, Jing’er?”
Xie Jing blushed. “I can help a little, but not for long. I’m busy every day.”
“Oh? What keeps you so busy?”
“Many things—riding and archery, races, training two mastiffs sent by my uncle. They’ll help hunt rabbits in the mountains and even catch in the snow…” His eyes sparkled as he spoke of his passions, one earring swinging. Bai Jiu’s heart wavered; he couldn’t resist brushing Xie Jing’s cheek, lightly touching the earring: “Is this also a Sichuan custom?”
Xie Jing shivered slightly. “Yes. Only Sichuan elites wear earrings. My uncle gave me this. I’ll inherit his household one day.”
Bai Jiu’s thoughts stirred. “Why not your family’s?”
“My uncle doesn’t marry.”
Just then, hooves approached. Hu Da, a Sichuan man usually with Xie Siquan, arrived, dressed flamboyantly. He saluted Bai Jiu and said to Xie Jing: “Little Master, the family head wants you. The house is lively—waiting for you to return and start the feast!”
Xie Jing didn’t want to leave. “It’s only afternoon. I’ll return tonight.”
Hu Da insisted: “No, no. The opera troupe you like most is performing tonight—seven or eight plays. Pick one you like. There’s even the ‘Fire Qilin,’ specially invited from Rongcheng, never seen in Sichuan!”
Xie Jing’s interest was piqued. “Brother, will you come with me to watch?”
Before Hu Da could answer, Bai Jiu nodded. “Yes.”
Hu Da: “…”
The young master didn’t realize Bai Jiu’s presence would overshadow him. The opera tonight was meant to coax Xie Jing home, but Bai Jiu going along would certainly infuriate him.
At the Xie residence, Xie Siquan learned his nephew returned early. Initially smiling, seeing Bai Jiu dampened his mood. Yet he graciously invited Bai Jiu to join the feast.
The house was festooned with drums, colorful ribbons, and lanterns—if one didn’t know, they might think it was a festival. The stage was set at the old Xie residence. Beside Xie Siquan sat Xu Jun, the Second Master from Hanzhong, a young but shrewd businessman. The Xie household treated him with respect; in practice, he handled the household’s affairs even more comprehensively than Xie Siquan.
Bai Jiu sat nearby, exchanging glances and a toast with Xu Jun.
Xie Jing greeted his uncle, then Xu Jun, who gifted him a string of beads and adjusted his clothes, smiling lightly.
Xie Jing then returned to Bai Jiu, whispering: “Are you comfortable watching opera here? Too noisy?”
Bai Jiu: “It’s lively.”
Seeing him clear the wine cup in front of Bai Jiu and replace it with tea, Xie Jing, ears reddened, said: “Then I’ll take you somewhere else to watch.”
Author’s Note:
Xie Siquan: “Wait, hold on, let me think…”
Bai Jiu: “Much obliged.”
