Chapter Forty-Five: The Long March

From the region where the Gilgit River, the Hunza River, and the Indus River converge, to the first bend of the Indus Valley, it is nearly thirty miles. The farmers tilling the land, the nomads herding their livestock, and the women washing clothes in the valley all watched the Tang army squad running along the road with utter astonishment.

If this were an expedition, what use could a hundred men be? If it was a patrol, why were they running until breathless? Everyone knew that even the infantry of the Tang army possessed more than one riding horse apiece, with many also owning a packhorse or a donkey. Yet, they donned full gear and marched on foot, refusing to ride—what could be the reason?

Not only were the locals baffled, but Xu Guangjing, running at the rear of the squad, wore a look of confusion as well. He purposely slowed his pace and moved closer to Zhang Wuji.

“What’s going on now? Did you offend him?”

In his mind, all of this had started after yesterday’s incident. As someone involved, Zhang Wuji would likely know something.

“No,” Zhang answered, as simply and directly as always.

“Has the matter been settled?”

“No.”

Xu Guangjing was at a loss for words. Was it even worth trying to chat anymore? If not for their friendship of over ten years, who would bother warming a cold shoulder?

“Then why is he making such a show of things?”

“Newly appointed, I suppose,” Zhang Wuji managed a few more words than usual.

“But if we keep running like this, how will the lads have any strength left? What about their training?”

For once, Zhang Wuji answered seriously, not brushing him off. “I reckon he wants us to temper our bodies. In battle, endurance is everything. Running like this is more effective than rolling logs or lifting stone weights.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad, but this is no different from forced march. Both men and horses will be exhausted, and recovering strength takes more than a moment. I bet we’ll wear out several pairs of boots—will he pay for that?”

Zhang Wuji stayed silent. How could he know what that troublemaker was thinking? If he wanted to make trouble, why not single him out instead of dragging the whole squad along? He really couldn’t fathom it.

Mobilizing troops was burning money!

Xu Guangjing fell quiet as well. The burdens they carried were no lighter than those of any soldier. Besides the usual equipment, each bore on his back a peculiar weapon taller than a man, weighing at least twenty pounds.

Liu Ji couldn’t hear their doubts. He was running at the front, and as they reached halfway, he gradually found his rhythm, running with ease. From time to time, he would share tips with the soldiers beside him, who in turn passed them down the line.

“Adjust your breathing—not too fast, not too slow. Keep your body balanced, swing your arms with strength, and keep your stride even. That way, you’ll use less energy and endure longer.”

He understood well that to win over these seasoned veterans, he had to lead by example and show them something that could truly command their respect. Yesterday’s display of martial prowess had laid a good foundation, but today, before everyone, he wanted to prove that strength and endurance were two distinct qualities.

He had been tuning this youthful body for some time. From what he could tell, his future self at the same age had nowhere near such a solid base. So, building on this foundation, he conducted consolidation training—no equipment needed, but the results were impressive.

Today was the day to test the fruits of these ten days of training.

For these soldiers, whatever their commander said was law. It wasn’t as if they were charging into battle; what harm was there in running? Besides, even the garrison chief was running at the front, so they had no grounds for complaint.

Everyone knew this young commander was only sixteen. If they couldn’t even outlast a mere boy, what face would they have to call themselves old veterans? He had already bested Vice Commander Zhang.

The mood was gloomy, and Liu Ji felt something was missing. A quick thought clarified it.

“Who can sing? Sing something everyone knows.”

The standard-bearer beside him was taken aback—there was indeed such a song.

“The commander wants to hear the lads sing. Kang, you’ve got a loud voice, start us off.”

“Start us off, start us off!” The soldiers who heard chimed in, egging him on.

Liu Ji, running and smiling, watched the soldier known as Kang, whose height matched his own, broad-shouldered and stout, with green eyes and curly hair—a Sogdian, most likely.

“Alright, since everyone insists, I’ll do my best,” Kang said without hesitation, and opened his mouth to roar: “The foreign king in sable cloak, ah! The intoxication of wine and embroidered palace scarves!”

Liu Ji, not terribly familiar with Tang poetry, only caught the gist. He wondered at the refined words—didn’t seem like a soldier’s song—when suddenly, the soldiers behind him all sang out in chorus. Over a hundred voices echoed through the tranquil valley, imbued with a certain desolate grandeur.

“The old general from the west can fight hard, at seventy he marches and never rests.”

That instantly erased any thought of shouting verses like “Sunset paints the western hills, warriors return from target drills.” Both the poetry and the meaning were incomparable.

And so, they ran and sang, covering thirty miles. By the end, everyone was thoroughly exhausted, many collapsing straight onto the grass, their composure utterly gone.

Liu Ji knew it wasn’t that their stamina was lacking, but that this was their first time training this way. Their breathing rhythms hadn’t caught up yet. For modern special forces, carrying fifty pounds and running a twenty-kilometer armed cross-country was just an appetizer; after finishing, they’d still have to stand in formation, not scatter around and fall in heaps.

It had to be gradual.

He stood on the grassland, surveying the surroundings. There were no fields here, not many people either, just a few nomadic shepherd tribes scattered about. He beckoned the standard-bearer over.

“Commander… what are your orders?” The man’s speech was broken from running and singing, but he managed to stay upright.

“Go find those shepherds and buy two sheep. Take some men and slaughter them—we’ll eat right here.”

The standard-bearer was delighted, took the string of copper coins Liu Ji handed him, and hurried off with a few soldiers who could still stand to negotiate with the locals.

A true expert is revealed by a single move.

At this moment, fewer than twenty people could still stand straight, backs unbowed and breathing steady. Zhang Wuji and Xu Guangjing saw the situation and knew the young man had triumphed yet again.

If fists and kicks allowed for a bit of trickery, this kind of weighted march was the real test of skill. Liu Ji wore heavy armor, even heavier than most soldiers’, and his other gear was no less burdensome—they knew exactly what that meant.

When the two fat-horned sheep were driven over, the soldiers sprawled on the ground struggled to their feet. They’d been up since dawn, drilling formations and practicing maneuvers without rest, then ran this far with full gear. The meager oil and water from yesterday had long sweated out, and they hadn’t expected to eat today—much less two whole sheep.

“Kill them all, cut them up, pile on the firewood, we’ll roast and eat.”

Weak cheers rang out one after another. The intense hunger turned into motivation. Without needing orders, they organized by squad or mess, fetched stones and gathered branches. Soon, several fires were blazing, and the rich aroma of roasting meat filled the whole valley.

An hour later, with rest and food, the hundred soldiers gradually recovered their strength. Xu Guangjing, picking his teeth and strolling over, asked for the next instructions: should they run straight back, or rest before returning?

Liu Ji glanced at the distant mountain, a harmless smile on his lips.

“Wrap up the leftover bones. We can make soup when we get back. Everyone, are you rested?”

“We’re ready!” the soldiers replied in unison.

“If you’ve eaten your fill, it’s time to move. Form up!”

At his command, the soldiers scrambled up and lined up neatly.

“Follow me up the mountain.”

Liu Ji waved his hand and turned toward the mountains. His men stared in disbelief for a moment, then noisily scrambled after him.