At dusk, the setting sun was like molten gold, plating the official road in a warm hue. The post station by the road had long been occupied by those who arrived first. It was the convoy from Hedong Prefecture, several hundred people more than the one from Pingyang Prefecture.
The young masters and ladies of the Commandery Governor's family had taken all the guest rooms, so the rest of the people made camp nearby, surrounding the post station in a truly spectacular sight.
If it had been a convoy from a small county, the Commander leading them could have just gone up and seized the place by force, and no one would have dared to argue. Unfortunately, Hedong Prefecture was a major prefecture in the State of Chu, and the Commandery Governor's Wang Family was powerful; few dared to provoke them.
The Zhao Family's Commander gritted his teeth and had his people make camp on an empty plot of land to the side, not wanting to fight them for territory. By the time Zhao Chun and the others alighted from the carriage, the camp had already been set up.
After the bumpy journey, many of the children's arms and legs were too weak to even get out of the carriage, and they had to be carried down by the escorting Martial Artists.
The common folk didn't receive such good treatment; one by one, they were hauled out by the collars of their clothes like little chicks and tossed from the carriages, and then tearfully began to set up their own tents. As soon as Zhao Yue and Zhao Mian touched the ground, their spirits revived, and they began chattering nonstop.
The Royal Capital seemed to place great importance on this conscription. Zhao Chun noticed a middle-aged man in a purple robe accompanying the Commander. Although he appeared to be just 'accompanying', the Zhao Family's usually arrogant Commander was exceptionally polite to him, laughing and talking with him.
There were also different levels among Martial Warriors. Zhao Chun had heard Instructor Zheng say that those who had just entered the Martial Way had to start with Skin Refining, tempering the surface of their skin until it was as hard as iron, impervious to ordinary weapons.
This stage was called Body Tempering, and it was a necessary path for any Martial Artist to enter the higher realms. Only when a Martial Artist entered these realms could they be called a Martial Warrior. There were Three Realms of the Martial Way.
In the First Realm, one's Qi and Blood were full and overflowing, granting them the strength to lift a great cauldron. In the Second Realm, their techniques achieved subtlety, and their Martial Arts became perfected. In the Third Realm, intent was born from technique, and everything was fused and mastered.
As for the ultimate peak of the Martial Way, it was when All Techniques Become One, using the physical body as a Divine Weapon. This was a Grandmaster. Instructor Zheng had glimpsed an opportunity in a moment between life and death.
Her Qi and Blood had boiled and surged within her body, allowing her to step into the First Realm of the Martial Way. Many people were stuck in the Body Tempering stage their entire lives, unable to advance to become a Martial Artist. Fortunate people like Instructor Zheng were few and far between.
However, among the Three Realms of the Martial Way, each realm was more difficult to break through than the last. Zhao Chun's father, Zhao Jian, had achieved subtlety in his Saber Technique before he was thirty, breaking into the Second Realm. But in the twenty years that followed, he had not advanced a single step further.
With no hope of reaching the Third Realm in this lifetime, he placed his hopes on his heirs, so that the Zhao Family would not fall into decline. This Commander's surname was Pang, and his given name was Zhen. His status in the Zhao Family was extraordinary.
Besides Zhao Jian, he was the only Second Realm Martial Warrior. He had been recognized by Zhao Jian as a Sworn Younger Brother, so Zhao Chun had to address him as 'Uncle'. Pang Zhen was not a tactful man.
For him to act so politely, the other person must possess heaven-defying strength. Otherwise, he would not bow his head even to an envoy dispatched from the Royal Capital. Zhao Chun understood in her heart.
This middle-aged man in the purple robe was likely a cultivator of the Third Realm of the Martial Way that Instructor Zheng had spoken of. For a martial practitioner to reach this level, the world had to address them respectfully as 'Master'.
Just now from the carriage, she had also seen a man in the same attire inside the post station. He was younger than the one with the Zhao Family and was probably the Martial Warrior sent by the Royal Capital to Hedong Prefecture.
She didn't know if every city had one, but if so, with the State of Chu having over a hundred large and small cities, the number of Martial Dao Masters dispatched would be nearly equal to the combined strength of several small kingdoms. Take the State of Lü, where Instructor Zheng was from before she fled.
The entire nation had no more than twenty Third Realm Martial Warriors, and that was already enough for them to hold their own territory.
It was just a pity that under the pressure of two behemoths, the State of Jin and the State of Wu, which were no weaker than the State of Chu, it was annihilated in less than a month.
So long as Grandmasters did not interfere in worldly affairs, the number of Martial Dao Masters was practically the fundamental measure of a great nation's power. The State of Chu had a long heritage, so its foundations were naturally profound. Zhao Chun was fortunate in her misfortune to be born in a great nation, free from the suffering of war.
However, being able to send down such a large number of Martial Warriors was both a sign of how seriously they took the conscription and a way to intimidate local powers and consolidate centralized authority. Political maneuvering was far removed from Zhao Chun's world.
She only wanted to enter a Daoist Temple to pursue Cultivation and live out the rest of her days in peace. Holding on to this hope for the future, even the simple meal became fragrant and sweet. Beside her, Zhao Yue complained endlessly, but Zhao Chun ate heartily and with great satisfaction.
Finishing her soupy rice in a few large bites, Zhao Chun took her book and went into the tent.
She had heard the carriage drivers say that a bit further on, when they reached the densely forested mountains where bandits were rampant, the convoy would no longer stop to rest every day but would travel through the night, all the way to the Royal Capital. Zhao Chun cherished this rare moment of peace and prepared to rest early.
Her two older sisters had slept their fill in the carriage. After picking at their food, they ran off to other tents to find people to have fun with. Those who could camp next to the Zhao Family were also prominent families from Pingyang Prefecture.
The younger generation had all met during their usual social visits, so it wasn't strange for the Zhao sisters to go over. Several families sat together, chatting and making a racket, which made things difficult for Zhao Chun, who wanted to sleep but couldn't. Night fell completely, a blanket of oppressive darkness.
On the commoners' side, no one spoke; they had all gone to rest. The few families on this side were still being rowdy until Pang Zhen shouted at them a couple of times. They didn't dare to make any more noise.
Zhao Yue and Zhao Mian fumbled their way into the tent in the dark and continued to whisper among themselves. Zhao Chun wasn't asleep and pricked up her ears.
She managed to catch a few sentences and learned that several more groups had arrived behind them, though they were from small, remote cities, some with a hundred people, others with just a few dozen. The Wang Family from Hedong Prefecture had even sent someone over with wine, wanting to discuss traveling together the next day for mutual support.
The next day, Zhao Chun rose early to wash her face and practiced two sets of her Swordsmanship. Only when the sky was completely bright and someone beat a gong to wake the convoy did Zhao Yue and Zhao Mian finally get up. Just as expected, Hedong Prefecture sent someone over.
It was a tall, thin man, likely the Wang Family's Commander. He spoke in a frank and direct manner that greatly suited Pang Zhen's temperament. The two of them made a decision on the spot to merge their convoys into a single long column, four abreast.
As for the smaller cities, they weren't part of the two commanders' considerations. Whether they wanted to follow behind or wait until the main group had left before setting off, it was all the same to them. The Wang Family had chosen twelve children this time, a full twice as many as the Zhao Family.
Most of them were boys; there were only two girls, Wang Chuyan and Wang Yijiao. The two were very polite and were willing to talk with the Zhao sisters, but their expressions were indifferent, not at all enthusiastic. Zhao Yue and Zhao Mian simply thought they were shy and introverted and kept asking them about Hedong Prefecture.
Zhao Chun, however, could see that the Wang sisters looked down on them. They were only deigning to chat for a few sentences because they were truly bored with no one else to talk to.
"I've never been to the Royal Capital. They say it's the most prosperous place. I wonder how it compares to Hedong Prefecture."
Wang Chuyan curled her lip and said, "A remote, poor, and bitter place, how can it compare to the Royal Capital?" She tugged at the handkerchief in her hand and added, "Jiao'er's and my maternal grandparents live in the Royal Capital. We often return for ancestral worship during the New Year.
We go every year, so we don't find it special anymore." The Wang sisters were the daughters of Madam Wang's legal wife, their status noble, and they considered themselves a cut above the rest. After Wang Chuyan finished speaking, she said no more.
The two of them sat there gracefully, the natural arrogance emanating from them making Zhao Mian's face turn green with envy and frustration. It was Zhao Yue, the one who had asked the question, who didn't seem to mind. She was a simple-minded girl.
Seeing the situation, she just said, "Oh. This is our first time going. I heard from my mother that some Daoist Temple is choosing people to become Deities.
I don't want to go. What's so good about being a Deity? You're stuck in a Daoist Temple your whole life and can't see anything."
Hearing Zhao Yue's strong aversion to being chosen, the Wang sisters exchanged a look, and as if a great weight had been lifted from their shoulders, they revealed their first smiles since meeting. Zhao Chun had been silent the whole time, reading her book while observing the others in the carriage. Seeing this strange reaction, she felt surprised.
Logically speaking, Daoists weren't in high demand these days, so the Wang sisters shouldn't be acting like this. Zhao Chun mulled it over and came up with a reason for their behavior: like her, they simply wanted a peaceful life ahead. Then she heard Wang Chuyan speak again, "Each person has their own destined path.
The current king highly reveres the Daoist Arts faction, and there must be a reason for it." As for what that reason was, she refused to elaborate. Zhao Chun's confusion only grew.
She suppressed her questions for now, planning to inquire further once they reached the Royal Capital.
(End of Chapter)