Chapter Thirty-Three: First Meeting with Li Jiancheng (Part Two)

“Stop right there!”

As Li Jiancheng’s carriage had just arrived outside the main gate of the Second Merit Command’s camp, four sentries suddenly crossed their swords and spears in front of him. From the watchtower above, a dozen more soldiers nocked arrows to their bows, aiming directly at Li Jiancheng.

Wei Ting, infuriated, roared, “Have you all gone blind? How dare you point weapons at His Highness the Crown Prince—do you not fear punishment?”

“No one may enter the camp without a military tally or an imperial edict,” replied Zhang, the soldier on duty, bracing himself. As a veteran of the Right Command Guard, he certainly recognized the Crown Prince, but Chen Ying’s orders were absolute. To defy them would mean seeking death or worse.

Chen Ying’s discipline was not especially brutal, but there was only one consequence for disobeying orders: confinement. The duration varied. Yin Yuan and others were the first to experience the punishment cell, and after their turn, no one dared violate Chen Ying’s orders again. Even Duan Zhigan, who had once been severely beaten by Chen Ying, wisely chose obedience.

The punishment cell had become synonymous with hell.

“You’re being insolent!” Wei Ting wanted to further berate the guards, but Li Jiancheng stopped him, smiling calmly. “Wei Ting, don’t make things difficult for these soldiers. Our Commandant Chen is intent on forging the Second Merit Command into the camp at Xiliu!”

“I fear he may end up copying a tiger and resembling a dog instead.”

“I am here to inspect the Second Merit Command. Please inform your commander,” Li Jiancheng said.

A soldier returned to the camp. Before long, Chen Ying, fully armored and accompanied by Deputy Commandant Wei Wenzhong, Duan Zhigan, Zhang Shigui, and Liang Zan, arrived at the gate.

“Your Highness, the Crown Prince, I salute you! Your humble servant is in armor and cannot perform the full rites. I beg forgiveness!” Chen Ying pressed his right fist against his chest and bowed slightly.

“General Chen, all soldiers, dispense with formality,” Li Jiancheng replied, his expression serene, his voice gentle and pleasant.

Chen Ying straightened, turned, and shouted, “Liang Zan!”

“At your command!”

“Form up the entire unit for His Highness the Crown Prince’s inspection!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Right dress!”

As Liang Zan gave the orders, he extended his right arm, sweeping it to the left, halting sharply at chest level as he called, “Dress!” The soldiers, who had been running drills, immediately responded. Over three hundred men began to move in formation.

In less than the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, eight blocks of forty men each were arrayed in perfect squares. What astonished Li Jiancheng most was that, from any angle, every formation stood in a straight line.

Though a crown prince, Li Jiancheng was no sheltered flower grown in peace. Since Li Yuan’s rebellion in Taiyuan and his self-proclamation as Grand General, Li Jiancheng and Li Shimin had each led their own wings of the Tang forces through conquest and battle, witnessing both formidable and feeble armies alike. Yet he had never seen a unit that could assemble in half the time it took to burn a stick of incense.

In this era, an elite army could gather within three drum beats—about sixteen minutes—while ordinary troops would consider themselves fortunate to form ranks in an hour.

Liang Zan continued, “Attention! Stand at ease!”

He then turned and jogged up to Chen Ying, saluted, and reported, “General, the Second Merit Command is assembled. There are three hundred and fifty-six men on the roster, three hundred and twenty present. Seventeen are in confinement, sixteen on duty, and three on leave for injuries. Report complete!”

Chen Ying saluted in return. “Take your place!”

“Yes, sir!” Liang Zan jogged back to the ranks.

“Your Highness, please inspect the troops,” said Chen Ying.

For a moment, Li Jiancheng was at a loss for how to proceed. He was overwhelmed by what he saw. The First Merit Command was utterly demoralized, while the Second was spirited and eager—a jarring contrast that made Li Jiancheng view Chen Ying with newfound interest. Truth be told, when Li Xiuning had first recommended Chen Ying, Li Jiancheng had paid him little heed.

In Li Jiancheng’s eyes, talent was determined by one’s birth. On learning that Chen Ying was of humble origin, he dismissed him entirely. Such thinking was hardly unusual. During the Wei, Jin, and Northern and Southern Dynasties, knowledge and culture were monopolized by the aristocracy. For the poor to rise to prominence required extraordinary fortune; most had neither the means nor the opportunity to even become literate, let alone succeed.

There was another reason talent from humble backgrounds was disregarded: in a world of material scarcity, the newly rich easily succumbed to corruption.

Yet now, Li Jiancheng found himself deeply interested in Chen Ying.

He had never seen, nor even heard of, such a method of drilling troops as this—clearly, it was some secret technique unique to Chen Ying.

What he didn’t know was that Chen Ying had never served in the military. His so-called training methods were merely based on two months of drills from high school and college. Apart from facing movements, three basic steps, and squatting and standing, he knew little else.

Nevertheless, even such half-baked methods left a deep impression on Li Jiancheng. Not only did he change his opinion of Chen Ying, he even began to suspect Chen Ying had acquired some esoteric knowledge from a hidden master of warfare.

Whether these three hundred men of the Second Merit Command could fight, Li Jiancheng did not know—but they were undoubtedly elite soldiers.

Li Jiancheng walked to the first phalanx. Suddenly, all forty men snapped to attention, startling him.

“We salute Your Highness the Crown Prince!”

The forty men shouted in unison, so loudly that Li Jiancheng’s ears buzzed.

“At ease, soldiers,” Li Jiancheng replied.

“To the death for His Highness the Crown Prince!” they roared.

Li Jiancheng paused, a hint of pride flickering across his face.

As Li Jiancheng inspected the ranks, Chen Ying also studied him in secret. Li Jiancheng was refined and elegant in appearance, particularly in his brows and eyes, which bore a seven- or eight-tenths resemblance to Li Xiuning. Chen Ying had never seen Li Yuan but knew from history that Li Yuan had a feminine appearance for a man, and Li Jiancheng shared some of those features.

“We salute Your Highness the Crown Prince!”

“At ease, soldiers.”

“To the death for His Highness the Crown Prince!”

Hearing the soldiers shout in one voice, Li Jiancheng’s expression turned oddly complex. He sighed softly.

“All other commands are resting—why is the Second Merit Command intensifying its drills?”

Chen Ying replied solemnly, “For the first battle, use me; if you use me, victory is certain!”

“For the first battle, use me, victory is certain—there is something to that.”

Li Jiancheng had arrived in disappointment, but left in high spirits. Though he did not converse at length with Chen Ying, Chen Ying knew he had wagered correctly—he had left a deep mark on Li Jiancheng.

In truth, training the Second Merit Command had not been easy. This basic drill, which would show results in five days among modern high school students, had cost Chen Ying enormous effort. Most of these soldiers could not even distinguish left from right, so he painted the toes of their right shoes black. It took three full days just to teach them left from right.

Time was limited, and Chen Ying had no chance to teach more advanced drills; these troops could not yet perform a proper parade step as in modern times, or the effect on Li Jiancheng would have been even greater.

Just as Chen Ying ordered the assembly dismissed, a report came from the camp gate.

“Someone requests an audience!”

Chen Ying went to the gate and found Zhao Yuanqiao from the estate, his face filled with anxiety.

“General Chen, something terrible has happened!”