Chapter Text
The Emperor looked down at the young boy, his dark brows quirking upward..
“ This is who you caught stealing in the kitchen?”
The old woman who had caught Mo Guanshan in the kitchen nodded her head. “Yes, your Majesty.” she said, staring in an accusatory manner at Mo Guanshan. He rolled his eyes. Even on his knees before the most powerful man in the Northern Empire, his sarcastic nature shined through.
The Emperor stepped down from his throne, making his way to Mo Guanshan. With his staff, he raised the young man’s head to look upwards into his eyes. “What is your name?”
Guanshan narrowed his gaze. “Mo Guanshan… your Majesty.”
“Mo Guanshan,” he repeated, “Am I correct in assuming that you are Mo Zixin’s son?”
Guanshan nodded his head slowly. He had never been ashamed of his father, despite his past and notoriety. He knew they were lies. The boy believed, wholeheartedly , that his father had been framed for crimes he did not commit. To Mo Guanshan, Mo Zixin was a simple man; a chef in the small inn that they owned before he was arrested on false accusations.
“I am.”
“I see.” The Emperor said. He pulled his staff from underneath his chin and regarded him for another moment. “Do you know how well-guarded this palace is?”
Guanshan did not answer. He didn’t need higher education to know what the Emperor was hinting at. Instead, he stared up at him with defiant eyes, a scowl playing on his lips.
Emperor He Cheng spoke again. “Either my men are blind and incompetent… or you’re one of the most talented thieves this Empire has ever seen.” He said, gesturing one of his guards forward. “Which is it, Mo Guanshan ?”
Guanshan did not answer.
He didn’t exactly like being called a thief. He could admit to himself that he was one but it’s not like he had a choice. After his father’s arrest, their inn closed down due to a lack of clients. Rumors of Mo Zixin’s criminal activities spread like wildfire and soon, the money they had left dwindled out. Then the war came and rations simply weren’t enough anymore to sustain him and his ailing mother. They resorted to living in the basement of a shoe factory, feeding on any scraps of rations they could get alongside the ones they were provided with–which wasn’t much.
Suddenly, he felt the chains around his wrist being loosened. His hands came free and he looked up with confusion. “What…”
“You have two choices,” Emperor He Cheng said in a low voice, “I can have you executed for the attempted robbery of the Royal Household. Or ,” He paused for a second and for just a fleeting moment, Guanshan thought he saw the barest hint of a smile, “You can work for me as one of my guardsmen. Dying is, of course, still an occupational hazard but it’d be better to die for your country than for such a pathetic crime, no?”
Mo Guanshan, still on his knees, continued to stare up at the Emperor with bewilderment. He could feel a shiver run up his spine as the man’s grey eyes bore into his own light ones. The boy couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Never in a million years had he imagined this ever happening to him. Stealing, he’d dreamt of over and over again as it had become his and his mother’s source of income. But being recruited by the Emperor of the Northern Empire himself and in person was not at all on his list of “things that can happen to me before I die”.
Time seemed to tick by even faster as he struggled to make his decision.
And then it dawned on him. Why was he even struggling to choose between public execution and a job?
Slowly, he got on his feet, never breaking eye contact with Emperor He Cheng. The man was taller than Mo Guanshan by at least a head but he tried not to let himself be fazed by it. Intimidation was not something new to him but looking closer now, he realized that there was something more than just intimidation to the Emperor. He had a certain aura… one that could make even the most hardened of criminals wince.
Still, he mustered up all his courage and wits, straightening his voice.
“I,” he paused, taking in a breath, “I would… be honored to serve you, your Majesty.”
And that’s how Mo Guanshan found himself in the barracks, situated just East of the palace. In over two weeks, his life had taken a strange turn.
The Emperor nodded and instructed his men to get a uniform ready for Mo Guanshan. Despite some moments being a blur in his mind, he remembered perfectly the way he had rushed home to his mother in the factory basement, piecing together rambles of how he had been accepted to join the Emperor’s men.
The next day, several soldiers visited the factory and requested to meet Mo Guanshan. They presented Mo with two documents. One was an official notice of pardon from the Emperor that absolved him of his past petty crimes, and the other was an authentic certificate listing him as a Royal Guardsman trainee. Along with all these came a small pouch of twenty Bei silvers. No one had explained to him as to what the silvers were for. The men simply left Guanshan telling him that they would summon the boy to the barracks soon.
With those twenty Bei silvers, Guanshan rented his mother a better place at a local inn. The innkeeper had given him a suspicious look at first, up until Mo was able to present to him his trainee’s certificate.
His mother’s new room was spacious enough and warmer than their last place; furnished with a bed, two desks and a small fireplace. This relieved Mo as he recalled all the winters that they had endured together with her chronic pains and incessant coughing. The Capital of the Northern Empire was perpetually snowed in as per its geographical location in the high mountains of Guan Xue, but winters were by far the hardest months to get by as the snow would bear down on the people stronger than ever.
Their new lodgings eased Guanshan’s anxiety. His mother could now rest easier.
He set her down into her bed, lighting an alcohol lamp on the bedside table to keep her warm. He hadn’t had the luxury of a lamp after his father’s arrest. Only cheap kindling from the wooden discards of the shoe factory.
His mother looked up at him from the bed with a grateful smile. She beckoned him closer and pressed a soft kiss onto his forehead. Mo Wan had long since lost the ability to speak after her illness worsened during Guanshan’s childhood but he didn’t need her voice or her words to understand that she was saying “ thank you ”.
He nodded and pulled the blankets over her. “Goodnight, mother.”
He waited for her to fall asleep, which wasn’t long, before heading towards the desk and pulling up a chair. There was some loose scroll paper and an inkstone with one solitary brush on the table. The boy tore a small section from the scroll paper and began to write his name. He had not written his name down on anything in so long.
The feeling of the brush against his fingers was foreign, more so the paper. Still, he wrote his name again. And again, until he grew tired of it and started writing his mother’s name. Then his father’s. Mo Guanshan found some small victory in being able to write their names.
The next few days passed by in a blur. With Mo helping his mother get settled in to her new home, meeting the innkeeper and informing him of her illness, finally calling a doctor after many years of not having enough money to have her checked up, and then paying the inn’s cook with three Bei silvers for her to adhere to his mother’s needs and aid her with her medicine once he started working at the palace. Thankfully, the innkeeper and the cook–who apparently was also his wife–warmed up to Mo Guanshan after seeing how filial he was with his mother and promised him that they would take care of her while he was gone.
Two weeks came and went before he was finally summoned.
Guanshan was promptly escorted, or rather marched, through the snowy city and taken to the palace barracks which sat behind the great estate’s walls. There were rows and rows of thick-fabric tents that bore the insignia of the Northern Empire on their walls. Men scattered past him as he walked by, going about their daily errands. As he looked around, he noticed that many of them wore black robes and pants with red lining and red headbands.
He was brought to the farthest back-area of the camp, at the last set of a dozen tents. The men here were younger. Some looked to be his age while others still bore the childish plumpness of youth. Guanshan, having been impoverished almost all his life, was a gangly mess of skin and bones, nowhere near as healthy looking as they were. He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the sight of them.
Finally, they reached the twelfth tent, the guard throwing open its flap doors. The boys inside groaned at the cold entering.
“Quiet! Stand at attention!” The guard yelled out. The six boys inside scrambled out of their beddings, some pulling on their pants and robes.
“Today onwards you will be welcoming a new face to tent twelve of the twentieth platoon,” then the guard turned to Mo Guanshan. “Introduce yourself.” he said. Guanshan let out a small breath and with as much confidence as he could muster, said his name loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Mo Guanshan!”
He bowed curtly out of politeness. One of the boys whistled but he didn’t quite see who it was.
After standing up straight again, the guardsman produced a stack of heavy clothing for Mo Guanshan, placing it in his arms. It was the same black uniform that he’d seen everyone else wearing with a red headband. “Dinner is at ten o'clock sharp. Curfew is at eleven. Rise at five. Breakfast at six. Repeat what I just said.”
“Dinner is at ten. Curfew is at eleven. Rise at five. Breakfast by six.” Guanshan held his tongue from sarcastically saying “Repeat what I just said.”
The man nodded at him before turning back to the others. “Brief your new comrade on the rules of the camp. If he commits any mistake or does not adhere, I will punish him and all of you for failing to comply with my orders. Understood?!” he barked.
“Yes, sir!” The boys replied in unison. After that, the guardsman left with a quick “at ease”. Guanshan stepped inside the tent and quickly shut the flaps. His new room mates sighed in relief, flopping back on to their bedding. “I swear, he’s got snapping turtle up his ass or something.” Someone said, causing the boys to snicker.
Guanshan made his way towards the corner where an empty stack of barley-bundles lay with only two sheets that he guessed were to be his blankets. He threw his uniform down onto it and sat down. That’s when he noticed his room mate staring at him.
“What? Is there something on my face, baldie?” he asked him, narrowing his eyes at the bald-headed boy. He didn’t seem fazed by his prickly attitude, instead giving Guanshan a wry smile. “I know you.”
“Huh?”
“You’re Mo Zixin’s kid, aren’t you?”
Guanshan readied his fists.
“Hey, calm down. I remember you ‘cause my dad used to work at the factory you lived in. I saw you going into the basement a couple of times.”
“Nosey arse.” Guanshan muttered, fists still clenched. “What do you want?”
“Nothing, really. Just curious. My name’s Liu Zhong but you can just call me buzzcut. Heh .” He said, nodding at Mo Guanshan instead of bowing. Slowly, Guanshan unclenched his fists as he realized there wasn’t any malice to Liu Zhong’s tone. He nodded back at him. “Mm.”
“I guess since I talked to you first I have to tell you ‘bout the rules here. Aside from the schedules, so long as you do well in basic training, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” he shrugged, running a hand through his non-existent hair. “Also no sneaking in and out past curfew or they’ll make you run six miles down the mountain then back up by dawn three times. You’re also not allowed to go to the women’s barracks. You’ll get kicked out for sure but not without getting castrated.”
Guanshan snorted.
Buzzcut’s grin widened when he got a reaction out of Mo. “I’m serious, Mo, hahaha. Though sometimes you can hear girls giggling around the tents. Especially around the older guys’ area, those hungry pigs.” he snickered. Another boy approached them, chewing on a bare chicken bone. “You briefing him?”
“Yeah. Told him about curfew and the no girls thing.” Buzzcut said. “This is Ru Feng. You can just call him Curly.”
“Oi!”
Guanshan looked around himself at Ru Feng and the others then realized something yet again.
“Do I have to shave my hair?”
“Since we’re all new here, yeah, they made us shave our heads. But after that, you’re free to grow it back out.” Ru Feng shrugged. He spat the bone out of his mouth and revealed what he had been hiding behind his back. Shears.
Guanshan blinked once, twice, then sighed. “I can cut my own hair, thanks.” He reached out to take the shears. Buzzcut and Ru Feng snickered.
“Nuh-uh.” Buzzcut giggled, standing up from his bed. He sauntered over to Guanshan who grew even more on edge. He stood up and readied himself for what was to come. Unfortunately, three other boys had joined the two and were now crowding him into the corner of the tent. “Come anywhere near my head and I’m gonna cut your dick off with that.” He said, baring his teeth. The other boys laughed, amused but also slightly impressed at his stubbornness. “Come on, man. My father was a butcher, this’ll be quick.”
“Fuck off.”
“You can either come here and let us cut your hair or you can come here and let us cut your hair. What’ll it be, Mo - Guan - Shan ?” Ru Feng slurred Guanshan’s name teasingly. Mo answered him with a middle-finger gesture to which Ru Feng shrugged. “Have it your way then.”
Buzzcut and the three other boys pounced on Guanshan, holding him down by the arms against his palette. He barked numerous obscenities at them while Ru Feng approached him, quickly cutting his unruly locks and using one edge of the shears to shave and scrape off hair from his scalp. “Hold still or I’m gonna cut you, you arse.” he chuckled, chopping away the last chunk of red hair from Guanshan’s head. Mo spat at him but Ru Feng simply laughed again.
After some time, they released him. Guanshan reached for the nearest boy he could take his anger out on, which was unfortunately Buzzcut, and threw him on to the floor. He straddled him with his skinny frame and threw a punch across his jaw. Buzzcut groaned upon impact while the other boys tried to drag Mo from him. All the noise within the tent attracted the attention of one Zhan Zheng Xi from outside.