After leaving the palace, Liu Hong and the officials stepped outside.
The attendants waiting there immediately knelt in greeting.
These attendants were craftsmen from Xiaquyang. To demonstrate sincerity, Zhang Xin had sent several skilled artisans along with Liu Yu's envoy to Luoyang to instruct the imperial workshops.
They had never imagined that, as former rebels, they would one day stand before the Son of Heaven—and not under sentence of execution.
Glancing at the boxes beside them, Liu Hong asked curiously, "Are these the tools for rapidly training cavalry?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," the envoy replied with a bow.
"How is it demonstrated?"
"Your Majesty may have a horse brought to the drill ground."
"Very well." Liu Hong nodded. "All of you, rise."
The craftsmen stood, keeping their heads lowered, not daring to meet the gaze of the nobles. Carrying the boxes nervously, they followed the procession to the training field.
Soon, a soldier led forward a snow-white warhorse.
"Begin," Liu Hong ordered calmly.
The envoy gave a subtle signal.
The craftsmen bowed. One stepped forward, tethered the horse, and began assembling a small forge, lighting charcoal. Another took out tools, lifted a hoof, and clamped it between his legs.
Liu Hong watched with interest.
With a swift motion, the craftsman trimmed away a large chunk of the hoof, mud and debris falling to the ground.
A collective gasp arose.
Wouldn't that hurt the horse?
But after several careful trims, the horse showed little reaction, easing everyone's concern.
The craftsman continued, cutting away the outer layer with shears, then filing it smooth. Fine debris fell like snow.
The sight made several officials visibly uncomfortable.
Blow it away already!
Their expressions grew strained until, finally, the craftsman brushed the hoof clean.
Relief swept through the crowd.
Another craftsman approached, holding a heated horseshoe with iron tongs. After checking the fit, he pressed it onto the hoof.
A puff of white smoke rose.
Many winced—but the horse remained calm.
The shoe was adjusted, cooled, and nailed into place.
One hoof done, then another.
By the time all four hooves were finished, the officials looked strangely refreshed, as if some invisible tension had been released.
Next, the craftsmen fitted the saddle and stirrups.
They stepped back and knelt.
"So this is how cavalry can be trained quickly?" Liu Hong asked, somewhat doubtful.
He recognized the saddle, though it had slightly raised front and rear arches. The stirrups, however, were unfamiliar.
Could such a small addition truly make a difference?
The craftsmen hesitated, stunned that the emperor was addressing them.
"Answer His Majesty," the envoy prompted.
"Yes, yes—Your Majesty may have someone try it," one stammered.
Before Liu Hong could speak, He Jin stepped forward. "Your Majesty, allow me."
"Very well."
Under guidance, He Jin mounted the horse and placed his feet into the stirrups.
His eyes lit up.
It felt… stable.
Natural.
No longer did his legs feel awkward or unsupported.
"Drive!"
He urged the horse forward.
At first, a slow trot—then faster.
The faster he rode, the more astonished he became.
How could it be this steady?
After circling twice, he called for a bow, took aim, and shot.
One arrow hit.
Then another.
Five arrows in succession—all struck the target.
The officials gasped.
In the Eastern Han, gentlemen were expected to master the Six Arts—ritual, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics. Horsemanship was no stranger to them.
They knew He Jin's abilities.
Before becoming General-in-Chief, he rarely even rode. His skill was widely mocked.
Yet now—
This same man had become a competent mounted archer.
"Your Majesty!" He Jin dismounted, laughing. "This method is extraordinary! If widely adopted, reclaiming Liangzhou will be within reach!"
The officials nodded in agreement.
For generations, Liangzhou had remained unstable—not due to lack of effort, but due to a shortage of cavalry. Training cavalry was slow and costly, while the Qiang and Hu tribes were born riders.
But now—
If cavalry could be trained quickly and cheaply, the balance of power would shift.
Liu Hong's interest deepened.
"When will the ten thousand warhorses Zhang Xin promised arrive?" he asked.
The envoy bowed. "Due to unrest caused by the Black Mountain bandits, the route must detour through Bohai and Qing Province. It may take another month and a half."
"In that case," Liu Hong said thoughtfully, "have the Imperial Stud prepare the equipment first. Once the horses arrive, send them to Huangfu Song."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Liu Hong then pointed at the craftsman who had shoed the horse.
"I appoint you as Left Assistant in the Imperial Workshops, to aid in producing horse equipment."
The craftsman froze.
An official post… just like that?
Only after being nudged did he hurriedly kneel.
"Your Majesty, I thank you—thank you for your great grace!"
Back in the hall, Liu Hong took his seat on the throne.
"You have all seen this method. How should Zhang Xin be rewarded?"
He Jin stepped forward.
"This contribution reduces cost, shortens training time, and greatly enhances cavalry effectiveness. Combined with his pacification of the Wuhuan and his gift of ten thousand horses, his merit is immense. I believe his request should be granted—even a marquisate would not be excessive."
Many officials nodded.
Zhang Xin's contribution far exceeded ordinary battlefield achievements.
But Zhang Wen objected.
"A high office is not to be granted lightly to a former rebel. Even if he has rendered service, granting him a two-thousand-shi post is already sufficient. If we reward him too generously, others may rebel simply to bargain for titles."
He bowed.
"I propose appointing him Prefect of Yuyang."
Liu Hong nodded slightly.
He Jin countered immediately.
"If the court appears stingy toward those who surrender with merit, how will we win hearts in future rebellions? Will we rely solely on force?"
He paused, then added meaningfully, "Does Your Majesty remember the tale of buying horse bones for a thousand gold?"
Liu Hong fell into thought.
Both arguments held weight.
If Zhang Xin were under-rewarded, future rebels might not trust the court's promises. Yet over-rewarding him might encourage opportunists.
Even now, unrest continued in Ji Province under Chu Yan. If forced to negotiate, what terms could the court offer?
After long deliberation, Liu Hong sighed.
"This matter will be discussed later. Court is adjourned."
Later, as Liu Hong prepared to leave, Zhang Rang asked, "Shall we visit the Western Garden?"
"Not today," Liu Hong replied. "Prepare the carriage—I will inspect the horseshoes at the Imperial Stud."
At that moment, a eunuch arrived.
"Your Majesty, Liu Ai requests an audience. He says he has come to relieve Your Majesty's concerns."
Liu Hong raised a brow.
"Very well. Have him wait at Deyang Palace."
After changing into simpler attire, Liu Hong entered the hall.
Liu Ai bowed deeply.
"No need for formalities," Liu Hong said with a smile. "You claim to ease my worries—what worries do I have?"
Liu Ai returned the smile.
"Your Majesty is troubled about how to reward Zhang Xin, is he not?"
Liu Hong sighed. "Both sides make valid arguments. I find it difficult to decide."
"Since you've come, you must have a solution."
Liu Ai nodded calmly.
"I believe… Zhang Xin's request should be granted."
Liu Hong leaned forward.
"Why?"
Liu Ai smiled faintly.
"Does Your Majesty still remember Liu Xian?"