Cui Xun said contemptuously, “Fine, let’s have the martial contest. But remember, if you lose, don’t cry and run home to your Tsenpo.”
Cui Xun’s response was a retort to the merchant’s earlier taunt, “Don’t cry and run back to your mother when you lose.” Hearing this, Ah’man gained more insight into his character. It seemed this lotus-like, beautiful youth was not one to forgive and forget—he held grudges.
The merchant nearly spat blood again in anger. He shouted: “Tibetan men excel at horsemanship. How could I lose to you?”
It seemed the martial contest would test horsemanship skills.
The merchant pointed to the wild geese in the sky and said: “See those? Whoever can shoot down a wild goose while riding on horseback will be the winner!”
“Very well,” Cui Xun smirked, immediately accepting.
The commoners below the platform spontaneously cleared a wide path. The Tibetan merchant went first. He cracked his whip, and his horse galloped forward. He drew his bow, nocked an arrow, aimed at a wild goose flying overhead, and released. The arrow shot out like a meteor, hitting the goose squarely in the body. The merchant pulled on the reins and snorted at Cui Xun: “Your turn, boy!”
The merchant dismounted and tossed his bow to Cui Xun, who didn’t catch it. The bow fell to the ground. The merchant was stunned, then laughed heartily: “Scared?”
Cui Xun said, “Your bow is inadequate.”
He glanced at the merchant’s horse: “Your horse is inadequate, too.”
The merchant was stunned, then flushed with anger: “This bow is our Tibetan horn bow, most light and sturdy. How dare you say it’s inadequate? And our Tibetan horses, robust, are countless times better than your Central Plains horses!”
Cui Xun couldn’t be bothered to argue. He called out: “Cao Wu!”
“Here!” Cao Wu excitedly patted Cui Xun’s white horse, which carried the iron-framed bow and galloped toward Cui Xun. When it reached him, it showed its intelligence by stopping. Cui Xun stroked the white horse’s head and smiled: “Whether Central Plains bows and horses are better, or Tibetan ones are better, one test will tell.”
Holding the iron-framed bow, Cui Xun mounted his horse. Today, he wasn’t wearing armor but was dressed like Cao Wu and the others in a white narrow-sleeved round-collared robe with a blue-black headscarf. Even in such simple attire, he exuded a natural elegance and style. Holding the iron-framed bow, he laughed loudly. The vigor and spirit of youth made the young women in the market blush as they watched.
The white horse sped forward like wind and lightning. Cui Xun held the bow in his right hand and took a fletched arrow from his quiver with his left. He drew the bowstring, nocked the arrow, and as a flock of wild geese flew overhead, he narrowed his eyes, fully drew the bow, and released. With a “whoosh,” the arrow left the string, whistling through the air, shooting directly at the geese. It accurately pierced through a goose’s body and fell to the ground.
The commoner who picked up the goose exclaimed: “There are two geese!”
One arrow had shot through two geese—clearly, Cui Xun had won.
The Tibetan merchant was dumbfounded. Cui Xun asked nonchalantly: “Well?”
The Zhou commoners also shouted: “Five hundred taels of gold! Five hundred taels of gold!”
The Tibetan merchant came to his senses and said: “It doesn’t count! It doesn’t count!”
Cao Wu grew angry: “How can you go back on your word?”
The Tibetan merchant said to Cui Xun, “Hitting two geese was just your luck! Let’s have another contest!”
“Oh? How shall we compete?”
The Tibetan merchant looked at the qingke barley wine that his caravan was transporting: “Like this, we each drink a jar of wine. If you can still shoot down two geese after drinking, I’ll admit defeat!”
After drinking a jar of this qingke wine, one would be so drunk they could barely function, let alone shoot down two geese—even one would be difficult. This was the merchant’s plan. But Cui Xun agreed without hesitation: “Good! Don’t go back on your word again!”
The merchant first opened a jar of Qingke wine and gulped it down. He had a good tolerance for alcohol, showing no signs of drunkenness after emptying the jar. After mounting his horse, he easily shot down a wild goose. The merchant pulled on the reins and said to Cui Xun: “Your turn.”
Ah’man felt concerned and asked Cao Wu: “How is Brother Wangshu’s alcohol tolerance? Will he get drunk after just one drink?”
Cao Wu was also worried: “Seventeen’s tolerance is pretty good, but we’ve never tested his archery after drinking… Alas, these Tibetan dogs are so cunning!”
While everyone was worried, Cui Xun removed the seal from the qingke wine jar. A strong aroma of alcohol mixed with a faint scent of barley wafted out. Cui Xun raised an eyebrow: “Good wine.”
The merchant said proudly: “Of course! This is our most famous Tibetan wine, not inferior to your Central Plains wine!”
Cui Xun took a gulp, then set down the jar. He wiped the corner of his mouth and smiled: “Tibet has good wine, and so does the Central Plains. The people of both regions could benefit through trade. Tibetan people could drink Central Plains wine, and Central Plains people could enjoy Tibetan wine. It’s a pity that some people, for their selfish interests, plunge the common people into the fires of war. How sad! How hateful!”
The Tibetan merchant was momentarily stunned. Cui Xun said no more but tilted back his neck and drank the entire jar. Under the clear sky, where the clouds were as fiery as the sunset, the white-robed youth with half-closed eyes had a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his eyes and brows. With his long neck tilted back, he gulped down the jar of wine with indescribable grace. When the Qingke wine was finished, he tossed the empty jar aside, and it shattered into pieces.
Cui Xun laughed loudly a couple of times, then whistled. The white horse carrying the iron-framed bow galloped over. He mounted with a leap, picked up the iron-framed bow, took out a fletched arrow, narrowed his eyes, and drew the bow to a full moon shape. The fletched arrow whistled through the air, and once again, two wild geese were pierced by the arrow and fell to the ground.
The onlookers cheered loudly, while the Tibetan merchant stood open-mouthed in shock. Cui Xun pulled on the reins and asked with a slight drunkenness: “Well?”
The Tibetan merchant had lost fair and square. He asked: “Your skills are impressive. May I know your name?”
“My name?” Cui Xun, the alcohol taking effect, had cheeks as red as the sunset clouds: “I am but a small soldier from Qingzhou.”
“A small soldier with such skills?”
Cui Xun looked at him with a half-smile: “In Qingzhou, there are hundreds of thousands of Han people. In the Great Zhou, there were tens of millions. People like me in the Great Zhou are like a drop in the ocean. As long as the people remain, and the mountains and rivers endure, even ‘two-legged sheep’ can drive away the barbarians!”
The Tibetan merchant’s attendants only understood the last words, “barbarians,” and were so angry they were about to rush forward. The merchant raised his hand to stop them. After a moment of silence, he nodded: “Thank you. I have learned a lesson.”
With that, he had his people hand over the five hundred taels of gold. Cui Xun didn’t even glance at it and let Cao Wu and the others carry it away to distribute among the poor. He mounted his horse and leisurely rode back toward the military camp in the sunset.
Later, Cao Wu and the others learned that this Tibetan merchant was Chizzan, the second son of the Tibetan Tsenpo. Tibet had been paying tribute and maintaining good trade relations with the Great Zhou since their defeat ten years ago. But Prince Chizzan was quite unwilling to accept this. Arrogant and conceited, he had wanted to use this opportunity to assess Qingzhou’s strength. He hadn’t expected to be defeated by Cui Xun. After this incident, he realized there were greater heights beyond his reach and more capable people than himself. A fifteen-year-old youth could possess such skills, let alone the entire Great Zhou.
From then on, Prince Chizzan shed his arrogance and never dared to violate the Great Zhou again for the rest of his life.
However, Cao Wu and the others didn’t know any of this at the time. The group rode their horses at full speed, finally returning to the Tianwei Army camp. After a hasty wash, they quickly went to rest to avoid missing the next day’s roll call.
The next day, however, a problem arose.
Before the fifth watch, Ah’man was preparing to find her brother. She was scheduled to depart with Madam Zhao and the others after noon to return to Chang’an, so she wanted to talk with her brother. But when she reached her brother’s room, she found the wooden door wide open, and her brother and Cao Wu seemed to be arguing about something.
Ah’man approached and heard her brother scolding Cao Wu: “Why didn’t you stop Seventeen when he was drinking? Letting him get so drunk?”
Cao Wu hung his head but seemed quite defiant. He muttered: “Who told that Tibetan dog to be so arrogant…”
“Still stubborn! Then you’re responsible for waking Seventeen up!”
Seeing the argument heating up, Ah’man quickly called out sweetly: “Brother, what’s going on?”
Cao Wu saw her as if seeing a savior: “Sister Ah’man, you’ve come at the perfect time. Who knew that yesterday’s Qingke wine would have such a strong aftereffect? Seventeen hasn’t sobered up yet and refuses to get up. Roll call is coming soon, and if he misses it, he’ll face military punishment. What should we do?”