Chapter Forty-Two: The Archery Contest

The process of granting freedom to slaves could not be accomplished overnight; it unfolded in three stages. First, exemption as tribal slaves; second, as miscellaneous slaves; and finally, as free people. Zhen Qian was now undertaking this task, and even with all three steps completed, it would take two or three years.

Song Yi was both startled and delighted, well aware that emancipation was not a simple matter. Their master had spent dozens of strings of coins to purchase the Song family, and until he saw a return on his investment, he would never consider freeing them. Naturally, Zhen Qian was not a wastrel either; though he spoke of granting freedom, it would depend on whether Song Yi’s family could reach that stage.

After exchanging a few more words with Song Yi, Zhen Qian turned to leave for the city, when he saw a burly man, dusty from travel, appear at the courtyard gate. He and Qin Meng, who was standing guard, met face to face, and immediately their eyes locked in a silent contest.

“Who are you?” Qin Meng demanded.

“And who are you?” the stranger retorted.

“I asked you first. What are you doing here?” Qin Meng eyed the man, whose demeanor suggested anything but goodwill, and pressed for answers.

Yet the burly man seemed not to understand Qin Meng’s question. With a mocking sneer, he reached out and grabbed Qin Meng as easily as picking up a chick, tossing him aside with a gentle flick. “Little fellow, playing at guarding the gate? With that skill, who could you possibly stop? Go play elsewhere!”

Qin Meng was left dazed, almost knocked out by the force, and if the stranger hadn't held back, he might not have been able to rise at all. Unaware of this, Qin Meng struggled to his feet, a low growl rumbling from his throat as he drew the steel blade from his waist, intent on fighting to the death. At that instant, a voice rang out: “Stop!”

“Adoptive father! This man—” Qin Meng began, but Zhen Qian interrupted, “Enough. He’s not an outsider; he lives here now. He was just playing with you—otherwise you’d never have gotten up.”

The newcomer was none other than Ayena Ye, absent for nearly ten days. He grinned widely. “So the little one is the master's adopted son. Your loyalty is commendable, but your skills are a bit lacking!”

Feeling slighted, Qin Meng brushed the dust from his clothes, stubbornly glaring at Ayena Ye. “Who are you calling lacking? I was just caught off guard. Choose your weapon—knife or bow—and let’s see who’s afraid!”

Zhen Qian hadn’t expected the boy’s temperament to be so unyielding; perhaps it was this resilience that had kept him alive through hardship, a quality Zhen Qian himself lacked.

Ayena Ye, equally curious, sized up the boy. As soon as he reached out, Qin Meng blocked him. “I’m not afraid of you!”

“Good! I haven’t met a child like this in ages. Let’s see what you’re made of!” Ayena Ye agreed.

Now that they knew each other, Qin Meng no longer reached for his blade. He looked Ayena Ye up and down, his little eyes darting craftily. “Let’s compete with bows. Whoever wins must admit defeat and become the other's little brother.”

“This little rascal!” Zhen Qian laughed. He knew Qin Meng’s archery was impressive, but had never seen Ayena Ye's skills, so he watched with interest. “Go ahead and compete. I’d like to see this myself.”

Ayena Ye nearly burst out laughing when he heard Qin Meng suggest an archery contest. He gestured towards the gate, “A hundred paces away, there’s a willow tree with a noisy bird’s nest. Let’s see who can hit the bird inside the nest.”

Qin Meng looked in the direction Ayena Ye indicated. Sure enough, a bird’s nest perched atop the tree, though no birds emerged. Unimpressed, he declared, “Alright! Three arrows each. Whoever hits more wins. If we hit the same amount, I win, since I’m younger. So I get to go first?”

Ayena Ye’s face stiffened at the boy’s proposal. “Trying to be clever, eh? You want to scare the birds away from the nest. If you pull off that trick, I’ll take your surname from now on!”

“You said it!” Qin Meng replied, and suddenly drew his bow, shooting at the bird’s nest. As soon as the first arrow left the string, he grabbed two more arrows. Just as the first arrow was about to hit the nest, the second was already flying. Ayena Ye’s expression shifted, and he readied his own bow, waiting for Qin Meng’s third arrow. Even if the birds flew out, as long as they didn’t escape too far, he wouldn’t lose.

But what happened next nearly made Ayena Ye curse aloud. Qin Meng’s first arrow was aimed at the branch below the nest, and the second was meant to adjust for any miscalculation. The first arrow hit the branch with precision, causing the nest to sway precariously. The second arrow then pierced the nest, sending it flying.

With a flurry of wings, two little birds burst from the nest. Ayena Ye expected Qin Meng to shoot his third arrow, but after waiting a while, he realized Qin Meng was only pretending to aim, refusing to shoot.

“Why aren’t you shooting?” Ayena Ye demanded.

“You lost!” Qin Meng grinned slyly, putting away his bow. “No cheating allowed!”

Ayena Ye was speechless, biting out, “That doesn’t count!”

“How does it not count?” Zhen Qian, amused by the scene, watched as Qin Meng shot down the nest and frightened the birds away. He too expected a third arrow, but the two sparrows, scared off, flew away. With Qin Meng’s skill, hitting a flying bird would be difficult, and Ayena Ye, confident, waited for that third shot. But Qin Meng simply watched the birds escape, refusing to shoot, meaning Ayena Ye couldn’t fire his own arrow. In truth, Qin Meng had won the contest.

“What a cunning fellow!” Ayena Ye muttered.

Qin Meng strode up to Zhen Qian. “Adoptive father, does this count as my win?”

Zhen Qian glanced at both boys, then said, “You two competed without inviting me as judge. I can’t say who won or lost—this contest has nothing to do with me!”

Seeing Zhen Qian dodge judgment, Qin Meng realized his victory was inconclusive. Still, he turned to Ayena Ye, whose face was a riot of emotions. “You won’t cheat too, will you? If word gets out that a grown man is cheating a child, I won’t cover for you!”

Zhen Qian, worried Ayena Ye might react overly stubbornly, was about to intervene when Ayena Ye scratched his head and grinned. “You’re the master’s adopted son, so you take his surname. I’m the master’s slave—what harm is there in taking the surname Zhen?”

Zhen Qian nearly burst out laughing—Ayena Ye was no fool, quickly changing the terms. Slaves taking their master’s surname was normal, but Zhen Qian, a modern man at heart, hadn’t considered this, nor did he intend for Ayena Ye to take his surname. Yet Ayena Ye seized the chance to extricate himself.

Qin Meng, still basking in pride, was dumbfounded by Ayena Ye’s words. He hadn’t remembered that he’d already taken Zhen Qian’s surname; Zhen Qian simply hadn’t gotten used to it, preferring to call him Qin Meng rather than Zhen Meng. Was this not a case of joy turning to disappointment?

Even Zhen Qian hadn’t predicted such an outcome—he imagined the beginning, but not the end!

“Master, from now on I’ll take your surname, Zhen. Give me a name as you please!” Ayena Ye declared.

Zhen Qian was at a loss. “Isn’t Ayena Ye a good name? Why compete with my adopted son?”

“A wager must be honored! If I lost, I must keep my promise, else I’ll be laughed at,” Ayena Ye insisted, unfazed by the prospect of taking Zhen Qian’s surname.

“A stubborn fellow indeed!” Zhen Qian muttered, but then thought it might be for the best. Ayena Ye’s name was rather awkward, so he teased, “From now on, Qin Meng will be Zhen Da or Zhen Meng, and you’ll be Zhen Er.”

“Zhen Er!”

Ayena Ye didn’t mind the name, but Zhen Qian could barely contain his laughter as he uttered it, tears nearly streaming down his face. If not for the crowd, he might have howled at the sky—Zhen Er! It was truly fitting.

Qin Meng had always been dissatisfied with his name change. If not for Qin Hao’s insistence, he would never have agreed. Hearing Zhen Qian’s words, he pouted, “Since I’m adopted, Zhen Er is too. So I’m the eldest, and he must listen to me!”

The boy was quick to seize the opportunity, daring to dream. Zhen Qian was both exasperated and amused—he now had a fourteen-year-old adopted son, and a nearly thirty-year-old one, eternally the second. Today’s events had turned out so strangely, he hardly knew what to say.

Ayena Ye, on the other hand, was utterly unconcerned, not taking it to heart at all. He ignored Qin Meng’s words, asking, “Master, is the matter in Luquan County settled?”

Zhen Qian’s face lit up, and he promptly dropped the issue of Zhen Da and Zhen Er, pulling Ayena Ye aside. Seeing Qin Meng follow, he waved him off. “Wait here. I have matters to discuss with Zhen Er.”

Qin Meng watched as Zhen Qian and Ayena Ye left the courtyard. He wanted to follow and eavesdrop, but Zhen Qian forbade it. His curiosity bubbled over as he muttered, “Fine, don’t let me listen. Who cares?”

Song Yi, who had watched their antics, approached Qin Meng with a smile, patting him on the head. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you? Bought by Zhen Lang, perhaps? If only my grandson could take Zhen Lang’s surname too.”

In these times, slaves taking their master’s surname was not a bad thing; it made it easier to earn the master’s trust. Even if they weren’t granted freedom, becoming a household retainer was still a decent outcome.