“Afterwards, not only those beasts, but even people became afraid of him. No one dared to use him anymore.”

Goodness, Charles Clark had heard of Zhang Liao’s reputation making crying children fall silent, but he never expected that under his own command there was a fierce man whose reputation could silence cattle and sheep. Isn’t this just a madman? At this moment, even Charles Clark felt a bit afraid, and he no longer paid attention to the distant Miller, who was shouting while banging his head against a tree. He took George and another retainer and left the courtyard. He had been staying in Mafu for some time now; though the days were pleasant, he was still a bit bored, so he wanted to go to Handan for a look.

Just as he stepped out the door, he saw George tightening the reins. When George saw Charles Clark come out, he bowed and then said, “Young master, it seems you’ve found a way to get up early! It turns out you used to stay up late reading, so you got up late. Now, in order to rise early, you don’t even read anymore. It seems the young master is indeed clever.” Charles Clark immediately felt a headache. He didn’t want to bring this guy along, but unfortunately, he needed a carriage for travel, and if someone else were to drive, George would absolutely refuse.

Just as Charles Clark was about to speak, Miller, with a cloth tied around his forehead, also came out and stood behind Charles Clark, glaring angrily at George and cursing, “If you dare insult the young master again, I’ll cut off your head.”

“You’re just a foreign barbarian—when is it your turn to rebuke me?” George had always been at odds with Miller, so upon hearing Miller’s insults, he naturally retorted.

“And you’re just a mediocre man unqualified to enter Lord Pingyuan’s residence. Lord Pingyuan accepted all of Lord Mafu’s retainers except you. What face do you have to drive for the son of Mafu?”

“I stayed behind to repay Lord Mafu! That’s why I didn’t go to Lord Pingyuan’s residence! I stayed to look after the son of Mafu!” At these words, George jumped up in anger, his long beard trembling. This was the thing that angered him most, and Miller always used it to provoke him. The two were about to fight when Grace stepped in to stop them from quarreling in front of Charles Clark.

Charles Clark ignored their squabble and looked to the side, where his neighbor was coming out. His neighbor was a kindly old man, leaning on a cane, very advanced in age, always smiling. Charles Clark stepped forward to greet him, and the old man cheerfully tapped Charles Clark’s back with his mulberry-wood staff. Of course, this wasn’t an attack; the people of Zhao believed mulberry wood could ward off evil spirits, so the old man’s action was a blessing for Charles Clark, to drive away evil.

“Where is Lord Ping going?” Charles Clark asked.

“I’m going to see if there’s any news from my two children. And where is the son of Mafu headed?”

“I’m going to Handan.”

“Good, then I wish the son of Mafu a safe journey.” The old man said this, smiling as he gently tapped the carriage with his mulberry staff, then left.

Once in the carriage, George swung his long whip, and the carriage sped off. Miller, Grace, and a few others ran behind the carriage. Seeing them, Charles Clark thought perhaps he should buy them a few fine horses, but when he saw Miller running while constantly talking to Grace, and Grace’s look of despair, Charles Clark felt things were fine as they were—better not to buy them horses, lest Miller always follow him around.

The city walls of Handan were extremely tall; Charles Clark had to look up to see the soldiers guarding the top. When the carriage reached the city gate, it seemed rather empty, with only seven or eight old men standing aside, being questioned by the soldiers. George drove the carriage straight to the gate, where a soldier stopped them, standing in their way.

“This is the carriage of the son of Mafu!” George declared proudly.

“The son of Mafu?!” the soldier shouted. Instantly, the city gate was in an uproar. Soldiers patrolling in the distance ran over, and the commoners at the gate craned their necks. One after another, eager, reverent, almost fanatical gazes fixed on Charles Clark. Charles Clark felt extremely uncomfortable. “The son of Mafu is here!” someone shouted, and more and more people crowded around, countless voices calling Charles Clark’s name, some even kneeling by the roadside to bow to him.

The soldier guarding the gate, excited, walked up to Charles Clark. Only then did Charles Clark see his face—he was very young, no, just a boy, with only the first traces of stubble on his face and bright eyes. He asked cautiously, “Has the son of Mafu come to request to join the lord in battle?”

Charles Clark was silent and shook his head.

The young soldier looked disappointed, then raised his head again. “I have two older brothers in Changping. If you become a general, I’m willing to follow you to the battlefield.”

For a moment, Charles Clark was speechless. The young soldier quickly cleared the way for him, and the carriage finally entered Handan.

Handan was not as prosperous as he remembered. There were few people on the streets; even in the eateries, only one or two men could be seen eating meat. Handan seemed bleak and empty. Charles Clark looked dazed, and until he left Handan, he didn’t say a word. He could hardly even remember what the city was like inside.