Crouching Tiger, Hidden Mountain

In the state of Liang, Winter had just passed over into Spring. Generally, Spring was the best time to plant crops however over time, frequent wars between Liang and its neighbouring states had taken its toll on not only the population, but also the land itself. 

Liang's territory covered a primarily mountainous region. It was a naturally well defended land. 

In the county of Xi, among one of the rural villages, a child was born in congruence with the budding of flowers and the arrival of Spring.

"Congratulations, village chief!" Cried the nursemaid as she carefully passed the newborn- not yet wrapped in a swaddle- to the mother.

The surrounding servants all wore wide smiles as they clapped loudly in joy. A few of the neighbours who were present also wore happy expressions as they celebrated the successful childbirth.

Sihai Xia himself was grinning from one ear to the next. He stared at his wailing newborn son with fondness.

As the baby calmed down and began to suckle, Sihai Xia cleared his throat. The surrounding servants also quietened down.

"Ahem. I hope that my son will honour our past and forge a bright future.

Our Sihai family originally started off as farmers and then took up trade.

In times of peace, it is grain and produce which fosters prosperity and commerce which spreads wealth. In times of war, it is grain and produce which feed our armies and our caravans which provide the most effective means of transport.

My son shall be named Wuxian, and he will serve the nation and its people as we have done for generations, spreading the family name and business to all four corners of the world!" 

Applause sounded again.

The brief naming ceremony was complete and amidst neighbours congratulating Sihai Xia, servants and others slowly filed out of the room to allow the newborn and his mother time to rest.

———

And so time passed.

Sihai Wuxian grew up fast, helping with chores as a child and gradually assuming the responsibilities expected of him as the future village chief.

As a male, he was expected to engage in much manual labour- tilling the terraced farmland, sowing seeds and training with the other youths in the martial way. 

However, as the heir apparent of a trading family he also needed to engage in more scholastic affairs as well.

Among his generation in the village, he was perhaps one of the few of many that could read and write, as well as count, add, subtract, multiply and so on. 

Sihai Wuxian's life was packed and fulfilling. Manual labour moulded his physique, shaping toned and tanned muscles, which, combined with his rapidly growing height of 1.8 meters and counting, caused him to appear a giant among men.

Not only was he physically adept, he was also learned, at least for a villager. 

At the age of nineteen, he had grown to a height of 2 meters. People of their region often grew tall, but even 2 meters was nothing to scoff at.

With the constant development provided by family and friends, he became an well-rounded individual and the pride and joy of the Sihai family.

At the age of twenty, he continued to improve further. His father was elderly and his mother had already passed on due to miscarriage. He had no surviving siblings and so the care of his relatives was placed solely on him.

It was precisely this that made the sudden resumption of hostilities with the neighbouring state of Qin all the more devastating.

According to the authorities, each family had to provide at least one fighting-fit individual to go to battle.

Perhaps if it were a renowned official's family in a similar situation, said official could make a plea to the ruler to spare the son, or at the very least assign him to a safe position within the army, but Sihai Xia was neither renowned nor a court official, and the opinions of a rural village chief's head held no sway in court.

So when the time came, Sihai Wuxian along with a hundred other men left the village in carriages prepared by the state.

He carried with him only some personal supplies, lavish lamellar armour, a 3 metre long wax-wood spear and a red scarf which previously belonged to his mother.

The armour and weapons provided by the army to peasants was run-of-the-mill. Sihai Xia did not trust such ordinary equipment to protect his only son on the battlefield and so had paid for the armour and its refitting and the commission of the spear to increase the odds of his son returning. 

It was their lucrative commerce business and connections that had not only provided the necessary funds, but the contacts required to contract the necessary labour.

It was not every day a customer was looking for armaments fitting someone of Wuxian's height after all, so such specialists were not accessible to the unsavvy.

As the carriages left the village one-by-one, Sihai Wuxian was a mix of emotions.

Of course the normal feelings of fear and reluctance were there- nobody wanted to go to war except those that did not have to fight it- but there was also a strange feeling of expectation buried in his heart. 

For his whole life, Wuxian had been confined to a small mountainous village, doing the same tasks every day.

His father had not allowed him to personally accompany trade caravans, leaving him stuck with more mundane tasks. This had been both taxing yet uninteresting.

It was not like counting the number of eggs laid by the village hens for the hundredth time was any more exciting than it was the first time, if at all.

But then another negative feeling arose. Despite being trained in the White Crane Style, he had never seriously considered putting it to use in a life or death situation, nor had he had the opportunity, for better or worse.

He himself was also opposed to the idea of killing someone innocent.

Of course, there was no way to tell what crimes someone on the other side of the field had committed and there was no true 'innocence' when at war, but what if the person he was facing was just like him? What if he was also an only son, forced to fight for the glory of another?

Wuxian had many questions and thoughts but also lots of time to ponder them, as the army was being gathered at a distance of 3 weeks' travel away and there would no doubt be a brief period of examination and training ahead.

In Wuxian's carriage, there were nineteen other men of varying ages. The youngest was 16, while the oldest was in his forties.

Besides Wuxian sat two others of ages 16 and 18. To his left was Mian Ji, to his right, Xiao Chong. Both were similar to Wuxian in that they had grown remarkably tall- especially for lads their ages. The three had grown up together and so had a good amount of tacit understanding and strong friendship.

Mian ji, the middle child, came from a family of builders. He was neither dull nor outstanding, but possessed a steady and reliable demeanour.

The youngest, Xiao Chong, was vibrant and adventurous, often getting into trouble and ultimately relying on the other two to bail him out or share the blame.

"I say, how exactly does this army business work anyway?"

As the troublemaker of the group, Xiao Chong was also the most outgoing and curious, often asking questions others were afraid to ask, be they shallow or deep, vague or precise.

Wuxian and Mian Ji glanced at each other.

"What do you mean, third brother?" Mian Ji asked.

Xiao Chong hesitated, trying to find the right words. And failing.

Mian Ji could see this. "What do you mean by 'army business'? You mean the details of the war? Or who our general is? Or how enlistment works? Or how large the army is? Or…"

Before he could rattle on any further, Xiao Chong slapped his leg with an exclamation.

"Yes, that!"

Wuxian raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'that'?"

"Uh, the uh… all of it."

Mian Ji burst out laughing, while Wuxian displayed a mirthful smile.

"Hey! What's so funny?"

"It's… It's just basic knowledge you melon head." Mian Ji chuckled in good nature.

"Well if it's so easy, why don't you tell me then?" Xiao Chong countered, his cheeks red.

Mian Ji snorted. "I listed quite a few things. Where should I start?"

Feeling the confidence emanating off of his elder of one year, Xiao Chong's spirit visibly dampened.

"Uh… How about the size of the army?"

"Easy. I've heard that it should be about 600,000 men in size."

"What do you mean by 'about'? Could it be that you don't know exactly?" Xiao Chong nitpicked desperately.

"Pfft, how do you expect someone who isn't one of the brass to know exactly? All I have is the official number!"

"But the officials won't say that we have 'about' that many men right? They'd give an exact number, right?"

"Yes, but do you expect it to be fully accurate? Even before the war begins, there's lots of time until deployment!

There's plenty of time for some unlucky old coot to kick the bucket in that time for whatever reason. So when the time comes, we might be a few short." Mian Ji rebutted.

"Indeed. The officials might also have marked the number up to boost morale." Wuxian added.

"Oh, that's true." Both Mian Ji and Xiao Chong nodded.

A momentary pause.

"Hey, isn't our big brother just and true? How is he so familiar with something so shady like faking statistics?" Mian Ji jibed.

"Yeah! Yeah! Are you a liar, big brother? Are you in fact a conman?"

Wuxian's eye twitched. He flicked Xiao Chong's head gently, much to the younger boy's dismay.

"Hey, that's unfair! Why only me?"

The response was another flick.

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that the statistics are false. There are many ways to make a lie into a truth." Seeing the two younger boys' curious expressions, Wuxian continued.

"For example, in our army, there certainly needs to be more than merely soldiers to make everything work, no?

There will need to be cooks, animal caretakers and so on. While not soldiers and not being expected to take up arms, as they travel with and provide for the army, they could be counted as a member, but not a soldier.

So it wouldn't be a complete lie to say that our army of, say, 400,000 soldiers and 200,000 non-combatants, has a man-count of 600,000."

Xiao Chong wore an enlightened expression.

"How savvy."

Mian Ji nodded in agreement.

"Say, how did you learn this, big brother?" He asked.

Wuxian scratched his chin. "From my father. He often uses similar strategies to frighten off competitors or to secure better deals with trading partners."

"Wow, uncle is so wily." Xiao Chong praised.

"Truly, the older the ginger the spicier. One would not expect such from a man with that name." Mian Ji added with a chuckle.

Wuxian felt slight secondhand embarrassment on behalf of his father. Both had heroic names, but their most notable achievements, if any, were slightly shady. He gave no verbal response.

Xiao Chong poked Wuxian's lamellar armour from the side, marvelling at its glossy shine.

"Big brother's armour is pretty cool. Say, wearing this and wielding your spear, would the enemy not mistake big brother for a general?" Xiao Chong joked, diverting the topic.

Mian Ji and Wuxian shared a look a second time and chuckled.

"Third brother, the generals of Great Liang ride beautiful white horses and wear resplendent and ornate armour. They wear flowing capes and feathered helms and their weapons possess many red tassels not dissimilar to that of the leaves of a willow tree. Our first brother here has merely a red scarf, possessing perhaps at best only a tenth of the valiance of a general."

Wuxian nodded with a smile.

"Old second speaks the truth."

Xiao Chong snorted in mock derisiveness.

"But our Liang generals are valiant and often engage in combat directly.

Do you not remember the stories we heard as children about how our generals engaged in single combat to behead the generals of Qin?

And anyway, in the heat of battle, who would be able to notice a few feathers or tassels here and there?

Big brother's shining armour and towering stature would no doubt create the impression of a valiant hero as he bears down upon the Qin troops."

Mian Ji rolled his eyes before closing them and leaning back, not deigning to continue the pointless argument.

Wuxian patted Xiao Chong's shoulder and also shifted into a comfortable position to rest. The journey would be long and such untactful praise would become grating to the ears quite rapidly.

Seeing this, the youngest could only copy them. It would be a long trip to the rally point.