The training ground.
Aside from those stationed on the watchtowers along the Great Wall, every officer and soldier of the Thousand-Household Division in Poyang County was assembled in full.
Xiang Tingchun strode up the high platform with broad, confident steps.
Even from dozens of paces away, everyone could sense the Thousand-Household Lord's good mood.
"Brothers!"
Xiang Tingchun's voice thundered like a great bell. "Today, I have two announcements to make.
"Back in the Yongchang Era, when our Great Sheng Dynasty was first founded by the Taizu Emperor, the army had more than 3 million soldiers. And every single one of them was well-fed, well-equipped, and full of fighting spirit!
"But later, disasters struck—both natural and man-made.
"Poyang County suffered through years of unpaid stipends and grain shortages. Many of our brothers went hungry, dressed in rags, and were forced to abandon their posts and wander as beggars.
"I, Xiang Tingchun, hold command here and cannot escape blame for that. For this, I apologize to all of you!
"But that kind of hardship will never happen again!
"The four martial halls and the local gentry of Poyang City could not bear to see the soldiers defending their homes and country suffer like that any longer. Therefore, they have donated large amounts of grain, silver, medicine, and horses!
"So—this brings me to the first matter!
"From this day forward—
1. Every formation grunt's monthly pay will increase by half, with an additional 1 shi of grain.
2. Every martial soldier's monthly pay will double, and so will their allotment of Blood-Replenishing Soup.
3. Every officer's pay and benefits will double as well.
4. From now on, medicinal herbs can be purchased directly from the garrison at half the price charged outside!"
When he finished, the entire training ground erupted.
"Double pay?"
"One shi of grain every month?!"
A shi of grain a month—during a poor harvest year, what did that mean?
It meant they wouldn't starve through the winter. It meant they could even afford new clothes before the snow came.
The martial soldiers were just as thrilled.
Most of them came from poor families. Ten taels for a single bowl of Blood-Replenishing Soup? Impossible.
And relying on the meager garrison rations alone made progress in cultivation painfully slow.
To them, the Thousand-Household Lord's words were like manna from heaven.
Zhu Tong clenched his fist. "With enough Blood-Replenishing Soup, I might finally make progress in my martial training!"
He and Wang Li weren't untalented—they were just too poor. Poverty had shackled their growth.
As everyone cheered, Xu Wencai frowned slightly. "This sounds like a prelude to war. And not a small one, either."
"War?" Zhu Tong looked doubtful, then nodded. "Makes sense, actually. Why would those martial hall bastards suddenly start throwing money at us? There's definitely something behind it!"
"Quiet, and listen!"
Xiang Tingchun raised his hand to calm the crowd.
"Now—the second matter.
"All of you know why the Thousand-Household Division of Poyang was established in the first place.
"It was to guard against the barbarian tribes beyond our borders!
"For centuries, those savages have stolen our homes and our lands. They crave our wives and children as slaves, and they use our heads to fertilize their pastures!
"It was the Taizu and Taizong Emperors who personally led the campaigns that crushed them so utterly they dared not raise their heads for 200 years!
"But now—they stir again. They wish to revive the tragedies of the old dynasty!
"Are we, sons of the Great Sheng, to sit and wait for death?"
His words carried across the field, fierce and stirring.
"With approval from the Ministry of War, I will lead our forces next spring to exterminate the barbarians along the Xi River!
"In the coming months, I expect every man here to train diligently—so that when the time comes, you can bring glory to the dynasty on the battlefield.
"The more enemies you slay, the greater your merit. Earn enough, and a title or command may one day be yours!"
When he finished, silence fell across the field.
Moments ago, it had been deafening with cheers; now, not a word could be heard.
Feudal lordship? Command rank?
Few dared to dream that high. Most simply wanted to live—to eat, to survive.
But as soldiers, battle was their destiny.
And truthfully, fighting with full bellies was better than starving before marching to war.
That was exactly why Xiang Tingchun had gone to such lengths to wring silver and grain from the martial halls.
An army that's underfed has no strength to fight.
But reward them well—and brave men will rise from every rank.
Only a force with enough resources could stand strong in war. Otherwise, the first real battle would shatter them.
As for whether announcing it early might alert the enemy—there was no need to worry.
The barbarian tribes always had spies around.
Anyone with a brain could tell what massive donations from the martial halls meant.
Better to be open about it—to prepare the soldiers' minds and bodies in advance.
When Xiang Tingchun finished his speech, he strode off the platform, leaving his men to absorb the weight of his words.
…
Chen Sanshi had already expected this.
The Elite Selection would take place after spring, which meant that before heading to the Eight Garrisons for the assessment, he'd first have to join this war.
"Mr. Xu," Chen Sanshi asked, "how strong are the barbarian tribes around the Xi River?"
Xu Wencai straightened up, answering without hesitation. "My lord, you've asked the right man. I, Xu Wencai, once spent five years studying the distribution of barbarian forces.
"The Xi River tribe is a branch of the Yu Wen lineage. They've lived in that region for decades. By conservative estimates, they have at least 2,000 trained warriors.
"Among them, there's one at the tempering organs stage, and the number of officers who've tempered blood or bone is roughly equal to our own Thousand-Household Division.
"But in horses, they vastly outnumber us. And their archers are far more skilled than ours."
Chen Sanshi pondered. "In your opinion, what are our chances of victory when spring comes?"
"My lord, come with me."
Xu Wencai led him to a secluded corner, picked up a branch, and began sketching on the dirt.
"The northern borders of the Great Sheng Dynasty are tense on all fronts," he explained. "There's friction with the barbarians at nearly every pass. So, there's no chance of reinforcements coming.
"At most, the garrison of Anding Prefecture might send one defensive Thousand-Household Division to back us up, just in case we lose outside the Great Wall—so they can cover our retreat and prevent the barbarians from breaking through to Poyang.
"But they will never risk leaving their fortress to fight alongside us.
"In other words, we'll be marching as an isolated force."
"What are you two whispering about?"
Zhu Tong crept up behind them. "And what's with that stick drawing nonsense on the ground?"
"You oaf, don't get in the way!" Xu Wencai brushed his beard aside, staring at the rough map he'd drawn. His brows furrowed deeper and deeper.
"Strange," he muttered. "Launching a campaign against the barbarians is a major affair of the state. Normally, such operations are planned and executed in coordination, not by sending just a thousand men to attack one small tribe.
"Whether we win or lose won't change the grand situation much.
"My lord," he asked, looking up, "what do you make of this?"
Chen Sanshi replied calmly, "It's a performance—meant to show one's ability to superiors."
Xu Wencai's eyes lit up. "My lord is wise. I thought the same!"
He glanced around, lowered his voice, and said carefully, "Thousand-Household Xiang is trying to pave his path to glory with the bones of his men!"
Even that was putting it mildly.
To speak plainly—Xiang Tingchun planned to trade the lives of the 900 men under his command in the Poyang Thousand-Household Division for his own advancement!
And the Ministry of War's approval? That must've involved various factions at court. The politics behind it ran deep.
"As for our chances of victory," Xu Wencai continued, "the barbarians are fierce and strong, but they're poor at organized warfare. Every spring, their nomadic tribes are at their weakest.
"If we can get the martial halls to send more tempering bone masters, and if the Anding Prefecture garrison supports us from behind, then yes—we can win.
"But…" He paused, his face darkening. "It'll be a bitter victory."
Zhu Tong, who had been struggling to follow the conversation, finally caught on to that last part. "How bitter?"
Xu Wencai said gravely, "You and I would both die."
"Yeah, that's pretty bitter," Zhu Tong muttered. He grabbed Xu Wencai by the collar. "Didn't you always brag about knowing military strategy? Then think of something! How do we make it less bitter?"
Xu Wencai straightened his clothes and answered solemnly, "I do have one plan. It could reduce casualties by about 20%."
"Only 20%?" Zhu Tong scoffed. "That's barely anything!"
"I'm no immortal, I'm Wolong!" Xu Wencai snapped back. "In a siege like this, saving 20% of the men is already a huge reduction!"
He tossed aside the branch. "I'll go propose my plan to the Thousand-Household Lord!"
With that, he turned and ran toward Xiang Tingchun's command tent.
Zhu Tong started counting on his fingers. "We've got, what, 900 men in the garrison? 20% of that is… how many?"
"..."
Chen Sanshi sighed. "He said reduce 20% casualties, not that we'd all die."
"Yeah, but how many is that?" Zhu Tong frowned, still trying to do the math.
Before he could figure it out, Xu Wencai came storming back, face red with anger, stomping his feet. "Useless! Completely useless!"
The Thousand-Household tent wasn't far away. Chen Sanshi had good hearing, and just moments earlier he'd caught a faint, furious shout carried by the wind—"Get out!"
Chen Sanshi shook his head and stood up.
There was no avoiding this battle. And he had no intention of avoiding it.
But it looked like he'd have to reach the tempering bone stage before spring came.
Once he tempered his bones, his body could resist blades and steel. On the battlefield, that would mean not losing combat strength the moment he got wounded.