Chapter 1: The Pre-Sect World
Pei Desheng laced his sandals in the dark.
The straw was fresh, braided the night before by his wife's hands even though her fingers shook worse each morning. He tied them tight because a loose sandal on a march caused blisters, and a blister on a march caused a limp, and a limp in a battle meant a body on a cart.
The conscription order had come three days ago. The Prefect's men rode through the village on horses, read names from a wooden tablet, and left. The Lord of Qinghe needed bodies for his southern campaign, and bodies he would have.
Desheng stood and looked at his sons on the shared mat.
Hao slept on his back with his arms thrown wide, mouth open, one leg kicked free of the blanket. He was seventeen and already broader across the shoulders than most grown men in the village.
That was why Desheng had given his own name when they asked for volunteers. One Pei on the tablet was enough.
Liang slept on his side, curled inward, one hand near his face. He was fifteen years old and he'd been quieter these past few months. He used to run with the other village children, shouting, throwing rocks at birds, and coming home with scraped knees and someone else's stolen radish. But something had settled in the boy recently. Desheng had caught him watching the village elder speak last week, studying the old man's face the way a merchant studied a scale. It was odd considering the boy had never before cared for such things.
He would keep Hao steady. Desheng believed that. The younger one had a head for thinking through problems, even if it was new, and between the two of them their mother would be looked after.
He touched the doorframe on his way out and kept walking.