"Who was it just now who said we should use the family discipline?!" Old Charles Thompson said discontentedly, "He comes home late and you still praise him. If he were out carousing with street ruffians, would you even stand guard for him?"

"Didn't the child just run into some classmates and get held up because everyone admired him? Why get so angry! It's not like he's really out playing on the mountain and refusing to come home. Look at this fur—tomorrow, once it's properly treated, it will make a perfect cloak for him! The winter wind is cold..." Mrs. Thompson-Bolton shot her husband a look, smiling as she defended their son. She stuffed a towel into David Thompson's hand and said affectionately, "Here, wipe your face clean yourself, and wash your hands with this water. Your father is waiting for you to have a few drinks with him!"

Seeing his wife dote on their son like this, Charles Thompson found himself outnumbered and could not continue his lecture. He had no choice but to instruct the steward, Uncle Zhong, to drag the two wild beasts away and have them dealt with that very night. Then he patted the stool beside him and said in a low voice, "For your mother's sake, I won't punish you today. Come sit and eat—I've reheated the meat stew several times already!"

"Coming right away! You two eat first. Today I shot a she-wolf, and while I was at it, I brought back her cub too!" David Thompson replied, and with a magician's flourish, pulled a fluffy wolf cub from the pouch at his chest.

"Throw it out at once! That's a bringer of ruin!" Old Charles Thompson's expression changed instantly. He jumped up and ordered loudly, "We have several livestock at home—if..."

"The she-wolf is already dead! Father—!" David Thompson drew out his words in a plea. The family discipline was never very strict to begin with, and after his elder brother's early death, his parents had only become more protective. So, even though he was almost fourteen, he still retained a bit of childishness in front of his parents.

"Even so, you won't be able to raise it. A wolf is not a dog. You can't tell when it's young, but when it grows up, it will realize it's different from dogs—either it will turn on you, or it will leave on its own!" Hearing that the she-wolf was dead and the livestock would not be threatened, Charles Thompson's heart settled a little. He thought for a moment and explained in a low voice.

"Why must I raise it as a dog? When it grows up and doesn't want to stay, I'll release it into the deep mountains myself!" David Thompson smiled stubbornly.

Note 1: In the Han and Tang dynasties, the structure of the Chinese bow was such that the two ends of the bow limbs were called "ce," and the tips were fitted with "ears." The ears, used for stringing the bow, were mostly made of bone or horn, sometimes of bronze. In the tomb of the Marquis of Ruyin in Fuyang County, Anhui Province, bronze bow ears inlaid with gold and silver have been unearthed. The notch on the ear for hanging the string was called "xian." Both the string and the ear had to be smooth to avoid damaging the bowstring. Sometimes the string was tied directly to the bow limb, a method called "yuan." Bowstrings could be made of leather strips or twisted silk, but most commonly were hung on the ears. The central part of the bow limb was called the "yi" (弓+付), and the two curved sections between the grip and the tips were called "yuan," also known as "shoulders."

Volume One: Ballad of the Frontier

Chapter One: A Flourishing Age (Part Five)

Charles Thompson and his wife, seeing the eager look in their son's eyes, thought of the inside information they had gotten earlier that day from the government errand-runner Brother Tom, and felt a sudden weakness in their hearts. One after another, they gave in.

"If you want to keep it, then keep it. Anyway, this thing was born out of season—no one has ever managed to raise one!" Old Charles Thompson grumbled as he poured himself a drink.

Wild animals are generally conceived in spring and born in early summer. The cubs grow desperately during the plentiful summer and autumn, so that by winter they are big enough to survive the cold and hunger. But the wolf cub David Thompson had hunted was clearly less than a month old, and its chances of survival were less than one in ten. So, even though Charles Thompson didn't like it, he saw no point in arguing with his son over a wolf cub that was unlikely to survive.

"Remember not to spoil it too much. If you ever see it show its wild nature, either kill it or drive it away—don't ever let it turn on you!" Mrs. Thompson-Bolton picked up a bowl and filled it to the brim with meat stew for her son. "Have a bowl of stew first, then you can have some wine. Your uncle sent plenty of wine—there's enough to last at least half a month!"

"Thank you, Father! Thank you, Mother!" David Thompson replied happily, not really listening to his parents' nagging. He dashed out the door, settled the wolf cub under his bed, then rushed into the kitchen to mix a bowl of rice soup for it. Only then did he return, full of excitement, to eat with his parents.

Back then, Liangzi was just as lively, but... Mrs. Thompson-Bolton watched her son bustling about, and tears welled up in her eyes again. Earlier that day, her husband had hurried into town to gather news, spending more than twenty coins to finally get the government errand-runner Little Tommy Harris to talk. According to this Zhao, the emperor was planning to personally lead a campaign against Goguryeo. The officials of the four frontier counties—Shanggu, Zhuo, Yuyang, and Lulong (Beiping)—were already in a panic. These places were on the border, and their soldiers were used to the climate of Liaodong, so they were the main areas for conscription.

"I'm telling you, Brother Damu, you'd better start preparing early!" That afternoon, after receiving a bribe from Charles Thompson, Mr. Harris confided mysteriously, "They say the emperor has ordered that all good families' sons in the frontier counties must enlist, no matter how many brothers in the family, from forty down to fourteen..."

"I only have Xuzi left, and he's not even fourteen yet. I'm already over forty!" Charles Thompson still remembered the awkwardness of his lie, and how he slipped his last few coins into Tom Harris's hand, hoping the man would go easy on him when the time came.

"The war won't start right away, Brother Damu!" Mr. Harris, satisfied, patted Charles Thompson on the shoulder and said earnestly, "They said this year is for preparing food and armor, conscription will be after spring plowing next year, then they'll gather and train the troops. The real campaign probably won't start until the spring after that. To be honest, our friendship is one thing, but I really can't promise to look after you for three years. If we get a new, hard-nosed county magistrate, us underlings will have to do whatever he says!"