What a vast expanse at the foot of Mount Tai! The people here possess an extraordinary vigor. Pacing the tracks, practicing fist forms, vaulting bars, and driving chariots, every one of them is dripping with sweat. Even the elders, women, and children in this territory seem to have sturdier bones and tougher sinews than those elsewhere. Had I not spotted a ragged, panting line of young pedagogues from the Inkbound Order trailing at the edge of the grounds, I would have suspected I had wandered into the wrong realm entirely, rather than the Martial Hall of the Inkbound Order!
After asking around, I learned that although Licheng Terrace is the martial arena of the Inkbound Order, it has never been closed off. Locals frequently come here to temper their bodies, drawing bows and practicing archery to fend off bandits.
As fortune would have it, my visit coincided with the triennial Crownleek Tournament, drawing competitors from the five lakes and four seas. A young scholar of the Order told me this chariot race traces its origins back to The Rites of Zhou: three men to a chariot, an archer on the left, a spearman on the right, and a driver in the center. Hearing that the Inkbound Order's lineage could be traced back to the Spring and Autumn Period, I could not help but wonder if this tradition truly survived intact all the way from that ancient era.
Sigh! How infuriating! Just moments ago, I dragged two hastily assembled villagers to join the chariot race, only to suffer a crushing defeat in the very first round. When at home, my elder sister always mocked me for being a stranger to physical toil. Testing my mettle today, I see her words ring entirely true! And so, I am left to sit resentfully beneath this horizontal bar, writing down these few lines, praying only that the old gentleman swinging above grips the wood tightly, lest he crash down upon the crown of my head.
Enough. I lay down my brush here. Off I go to temper my bones and sinews!
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