The Emperor sought to regain his lost dignity.

Wei Guangde had been in the Great Ming Dynasty for nearly half a year. He had spent his days drifting between the centurion’s station and Madang Town, having never traveled any further afield. This trip to his uncle’s thousand-man garrison was his first long-distance journey since arriving in this era.

During the Ming Dynasty, carriages lacked any shock-absorption design. Even on what was considered a decent road, Wei Guangde found the ride bumpy, jolting, and utterly miserable. Sitting inside the carriage, he was soon feeling dizzy and nauseated, wishing he could scramble out to swap places with his older brother. For this trip, they had taken the only two horses from the centurion’s station: one pulled the carriage, and the other was ridden by his brother. The carriage was small and could not accommodate four people.

They had departed at the hour of the Dragon, roughly around 8:00 AM, and arrived at the thousand-man garrison during the hour of the Snake, having traveled for over two hours. Wei Guangde had only learned to tell time by these traditional cycles—Zi, Chou, Yin, Mao, Chen, Si, Wu, Wei, Shen, You, Xu, and Hai—after arriving here. He knew that each double-hour period represented two hours; for instance, the hour of the Zi spanned from 11:00 PM to 1:00 AM. Even now, however, he had to mentally recite the sequence to identify the time, unlike his brother, who could judge it simply by looking at the sky.

It occurred to him that in his previous life, when celebrating the Lunar New Year, people used the lunar calendar, yet the CCTV Spring Festival Gala still used digital time, marking midnight as the start of the new year. By ancient standards, midnight had already passed the hour of the Zi; technically, the transition to the Lunar New Year should have been marked at 11:00 PM, the start of the hour of the Zi and the beginning of the first day of the lunar year. Without a clock, Wei Guangde judged by the sky that it was past 10:00 AM, but not yet 11:00.

Their family was soon welcomed into his uncle’s home. The thousand-man garrison was not located within the county seat, but nearby. His uncle’s entire family was present, and as was customary, Wei Guangde and Wei Wencai paid their New Year respects to their uncle and aunt, receiving red envelopes in return. His uncle, Wu Zhankui, was two years older than his father, Wei Meng, but looked more like a scholar, dressed in a brand-new official uniform for military officers. As it happened, his uncle was a fifth-rank military officer, while his father was a sixth-rank; both wore green robes, though the badges on their chests differed—his father’s displayed a leopard, while his uncle’s featured a bear.

His uncle had one son and two daughters, all older than Wei Guangde. After the formalities, the two cousins departed, and Wei Guangde was taken to the neighboring room by his cousin, leaving the elders to converse. His cousin, Wu Dong, was destined to inherit his uncle’s position as a thousand-man commander. However, in Jiangxi—a land blessed with abundant resources and brilliant people—education had flourished since ancient times. It was a province of the imperial examinations, and every cycle produced successful candidates, a fact that inevitably influenced everyone living there.

His brother had mentioned before that this cousin did not care for martial arts, preferring instead to study and dreaming of placing on the gold list. But it was only a dream. After all, his uncle’s position was hereditary, and since he had no brothers to inherit it, he was not a "surplus son" (yuding) who could pursue the examinations freely. Children of military households in the Ming Dynasty could participate in the exams, but there was one non-negotiable prerequisite: they could not be an only child. Because they belonged to a military household, one member of the family had to serve; if there were brothers, one would be considered a "surplus son" exempt from service, naturally allowing him to take the exams.

But because his uncle had only one son, Wu Dong was required to inherit the military post. The only exception would be if the Minister of War issued a decree removing their military status, reclassifying them as commoners. The examinations mentioned here referred to the imperial civil service exams; the qualifying exams for "child students" did not count, as they were merely preliminary selections. Of course, since his cousin had not yet begun his military service, no one bothered him about taking these preliminary exams. Yet, even if he were a reincarnated literary star who fought his way to the palace examination, he would eventually have to return to inherit his military post unless the court granted special grace. In the two hundred years of the dynasty, such a thing had seemingly never happened. While there were rare cases of military status being converted to commoner status, they were one in a thousand.

"Little cousin, how are your studies coming along?" Once they reached the parlor, Wu Dong inquired with concern, as he considered himself a man of letters. His brother, Wei Wencai, often visited, so he was much closer to Wu Dong, whereas Wu Dong and Wei Guangde rarely met more than a few times a year.

"I just started studying the Four Books this year; the last two years were just foundational," Wei Guangde replied quickly. His first impression of Wu Dong was that he truly looked like a scholar—refined and dressed in the attire of a man of letters, wearing a loose blue Daoist robe and a square scholar’s cap. It was only an appearance, however; he was fated to be a military officer.

"Then you won't be able to participate in the county examination this year," Wu Dong said with a smile.

"A few of my seniors at the school are planning to provide mutual guarantees to take the county exam this year; I’ll likely have to wait another two years," Wei Guangde replied. He had heard from his brother that Wu Dong had passed the county and prefecture exams two years prior to become a "child student," but had failed the subsequent academy examination at the age of sixteen.

"Are you taking the academy examination this year, cousin?" Wei Guangde asked. Wei Wencai had long since given up his studies and never asked about Wu Dong’s plans. In Wei Guangde’s view, Wu Dong only had a few years left to try his luck; after bumping his head against the wall enough times, he would likely give up on the idea of the examinations. After all, he surely knew the court’s attitude toward children of military households like them.

While they chatted, in the main room next door, Wu Zhankui was speaking with Wei Meng. "You must have the lads on your side drill hard this year. Your father-in-law will try to provide more assistance, but you must ensure those hundred or so men are up to the task," Wu Zhankui said in a low voice.

"What? Drill again? Brother-in-law, we nearly lost our land this last time because of that. You want me to keep training?" Wei Meng was far from pleased. It was a joke; because he had summoned so many men previously, the authorities had nearly confiscated their land. Only a fool would keep training.

"Things are different now. News from Nanjing says the Emperor intends to launch a northern expedition," Wu Zhankui said, glancing at his wife and sister talking nearby.

"Don't tell me we have to go north again? Can we even win? Are we going beyond the Great Wall?" Wei Meng was truly terrified. He knew exactly what his small force was worth. To be honest, they were a hollow shell; they looked fine in formation, but in real combat, they were better off wielding hoes in the fields.

"It’s hard to say what happens in the south, but the word is that the Emperor feels he has lost face and wants to reclaim it. He is planning for this," Wu Zhankui said, taking a sip of tea before adding, "Of your centurion’s company, how many are actually fit for battle?"