Chapter 0001: A Golden Carp Falls from the Sky

Ninth year of Yanxi, Han Dynasty, year of Bingwu

It was March, and spring was in full bloom.

On a winding, meandering official road, a group of people and horses moved along at a leisurely pace.

The Han Dynasty was an era of great formality. In this time, there were strict rules about the roads people could travel: there were imperial roads for the emperor, official roads for those of rank above the fifth gentleman, courier roads for messengers and postmen, and as for commoners, they were best off staying home and farming—what business did they have on the roads!

This group was traveling on an official road. At the very front were two riders, both tall and sturdy, their yellow dun horses moving forward unhurriedly. Swords hung at their left, spears strapped to their backs, and each horse had a yellow crossbow on the left and a quiver on the right. Such armament was enough to strike fear into anyone who saw them—people would quickly step aside to avoid trouble.

The Eastern Han strictly regulated civilian weapons. Powerful crossbows were strictly forbidden for private ownership. To travel with yellow crossbows on display was akin to brandishing an AK-47 on the street in modern times—a terrifying sight for ordinary folk, except perhaps in countries where everyone carries an AK.

Behind the riders was an exquisite carriage, drawn by four fine horses with heads bowed, taking careful, tiny steps so as not to jostle the carriage. The carriage itself was made entirely of redwood, adorned with cloud and dragon patterns on the sides, and fierce birds and beasts as embellishments. Two servants jogged behind the carriage, one carrying a chamber pot, the other a censer. Following them were five or six ox carts, all uncovered—some carrying food cauldrons and baskets, some loaded with fine rice and meat, some with alfalfa and rapeseed... and even some filled with various garments and headpieces.

Those in the know would recognize this as the current Marquis of Jiedu Pavilion out for a spring excursion; those who didn’t might think some wealthy family was moving house!

The nine-year-old young marquis Henry Clark was lazily reclining inside the carriage, secretly delighted. Going out was so much more pleasant—at home, every move and gesture had to conform to ritual, and the slightest misstep meant a beating. The worst was when his mother would cry while hitting him, which was truly terrifying. Now, under the pretense of going out to broaden his knowledge, he could finally indulge himself a little. Henry Clark grinned as he picked up a walnut that had already been cracked open and began to eat. Eating while lying down—what a pleasure!

As he munched on walnuts, he mused to himself: these Hu people really have a lot of good things. When I grow up, I want to be a wandering knight, just like that Zhang Ziwen, and travel the Western Regions—one man, one sword, roaming the world!

And in his spare time, he could trade with the Hu people for more walnuts...

"Young Marquis? Young Marquis?"

Henry Clark was startled, but didn’t respond right away. He finished the walnut in his hand, then rolled up the carriage curtain and poked his head out.

Outside, the servant holding the censer smiled and said, "Young Marquis, we’ve arrived, we’ve arrived!"

"Oh?"

Henry Clark pushed open the carriage door from inside, and the two servants hurried over to help him down. At only nine years old, Henry Clark was short, his hair in a boy’s topknot, dressed in splendid red robes with black trousers, a jade-colored belt at his waist, a sachet on his left, a five-colored ribbon on his right, and a chrysanthemum hanging by his ear. His outfit was certainly flamboyant, but not exactly striking—not because of the flower (men wearing flowers was always in fashion), but because of his figure: chubby and short-limbed. Even though the clothes fit well, he couldn’t be called handsome—at best, a bit cute.

Seeing their young master dressed like this, the servants couldn’t help but smile wryly. He must have secretly changed clothes in the carriage. The young marquis was just a child—why did he always want to imitate those roguish knights?

"Young Marquis, look, this is the great river!"

With the servant’s support, Henry Clark walked over with great interest. Before him was a river, but it wasn’t very wide, nor was the current fierce. The riders were watering their horses not far away. Seeing this, Henry Clark couldn’t help but feel disappointed. The grand, surging river he had imagined vanished in an instant. His thick eyebrows furrowed together. The servant noticed the young marquis’s dissatisfaction and quickly said, "Young Marquis, this is just a branch of the great river, more like a stream. When you’re older, you can visit the main river yourself—gather friends by the riverside, recite poetry and enjoy music. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?"

"Then why did we come out here?"

"Uh..." The servant scratched his head, frantically winking at the other servant. The other quickly said, "Young Marquis can sit and fish! There are plenty of fish and shrimp here. If you catch some to take home, the madam will surely be pleased!"