Chapter Thirty-One: Interlude

That night, the Yellow Turban camp was fully established.

“Go to the supply camp and have the logistics soldiers prepare the meals.”

Zhou Suyan had arrived at the front lines together with the provisions transported from the rear. When she entered the main command tent, she looked at Wang Luo with a gaze full of joy and anticipation, only to find him engrossed in his writing at the table.

Hearing footsteps, he glanced up at her and immediately issued his orders.

Her expression… grew rather unpleasant. In the end, though, she nodded in agreement without protest.

Watching her departing figure, Wang Luo felt a twinge of regret.

Arranging things this way might well have displeased her. But now was no time for romance and sentimentality.

He was the model for the entire army; his conduct would be emulated by officers and soldiers alike. Any foolishness would harm not only himself but others as well.

“Has Yang Wentian returned?” After a while, Wang Luo asked Liu An, who stood nearby.

“He’s been back for a while now. He says there’s nothing worth reporting.”

“Nothing? The Han army hasn’t shifted any troops?”

“No, he said there are no such signs. We’ve already sent more men out to investigate.”

Wang Luo nodded.

What was the Han army planning? Did they intend to crush us with those forces alone? Had they discerned some fatal flaw in our ranks? Did they see that our troops could only hold a fixed formation, and that any movement would expose vulnerabilities?

As he pondered this, Su Si entered. “General.”

His face bore an expression of determination, composure, and calm—a look only found on those who possess deep confidence in the righteousness of their actions.

“How much grain have you brought?”

“Enough to supply the army for three days. The next batch will set out in two days.”

“Thank you for the trouble, as always.”

——

After a brief conversation, Su Si took his leave.

Before the expedition, Wang Luo had spoken with him, explaining that he saw Su Si as a crucial link in maintaining harmony within the ranks. Thus, he entrusted him with the task of coordinating with the rear camp.

Su Si had accepted. Yet Wang Luo could not be certain what his true intentions were, nor what he might do in the days to come.

After leading more than seven thousand able soldiers out, Wang Luo had established a new officer system during the march. The original seven captains of a thousand, apart from Su Si and himself, were appointed as commanders; since Su Si was overseeing grain transport, his battalion was temporarily led by his former deputy. Each thousand-man unit was divided into ten companies of a hundred, each led by a sub-commander; each hundred was divided into ten squads of ten, each led by a captain.

Most of the leaders of the hundred and ten-man units were chosen for their outstanding performance in the previous ambush against the Han army. The surrendered Han soldiers were assigned as their deputies. This arrangement brought clear hierarchy and made command more efficient.

Wang Luo had ordered all the armor be taken along on the expedition. The rear camp was now filled with the old, weak, women, and children; Lin Qi’s remaining soldiers had little combat ability. If the Han army detached a force to raid the rear, they would be defenseless.

But then again… his own troops were weak, riddled with flaws and gaps, so what was one more? As long as reconnaissance was thorough, perhaps they could redeploy in time to repel a Han raid should any signs arise.

There was a certain pleasure in using a disliked superior as bait.

“Commander Zhang is here,” Liu An announced, stepping into the tent.

“Let him in.”

Who was Zhang Xiong? A brawny, courageous, but rather ordinary man. He was strong and bold, but lacked skill with weapons and could barely ride—a man unsuited for duels or heroic feats.

As a common soldier, he was exemplary; as a leader, he was useful mainly as a figurehead or example.

“General, what can I do for you?” Zhang Xiong entered, grinning broadly.

He had reason to be pleased. The recent training had paid off, and today his men had not fallen into chaos as before. Their sector had faced little pressure and almost no casualties.

Whenever a team achieves some measure of success, the more foolish among them tend to develop certain delusions, such as:

I am important; my contribution is great; I am destined for success; she likes me…

Well, not the last one.

Zhang Xiong hadn’t grown that arrogant yet. But Wang Luo felt that, if left unchecked, he soon would.

Minor issues like this weren’t Wang Luo’s main concern; he preferred to devote his mind to defeating the enemy. Yet Zhang Xiong, for all his foolishness, was one of his supporters, so some communication was necessary.

It would not do to bluntly point out his flaws—that would only provoke resentment in such men. So instead, Wang Luo took the opposite approach, heaping praise on him and promising that in the next battle he would be placed at the vanguard, giving him even better opportunities to shine.

Zhang Xiong, mistaking this for encouragement, left in high spirits, thrilled and satisfied.

——

In a mid-sized tent, two teams who had been heavily involved in the previous fighting gathered together.

The Wuzhou team had profited greatly at the outset, but had been inactive ever since. Worse still, Gertini of the Moonshadow team had not participated in the last fight at all—he’d been acting secretive lately, no one sure what he was up to.

This forced the two captains, Dalbo and Lank—who had a history of both friction and friendship—to consider joining forces.

After a period of cordial and friendly chatter among the members, the two leaders got straight to the point.

“What will the Han army do tomorrow? Another assault?” Lank asked.

“Seems likely. General Huangfu seems to have spotted some weakness in the enemy, and is quite confident about crushing seven thousand with just four thousand men,” Dalbo replied, taking a sip from a purple clay teapot.

“If that’s true, our job gets easier. But the Yellow Turbans seem to have been strengthened by some kind of item—it won’t be so easy to defeat them,” Lank said, shaking his head. “Who knows what the harpy and the pretty boy are plotting? If we lose, we’re all going bankrupt!”

“In this scenario, the Yellow Turbans’ chance of victory is ten percent,” said Dalbo. “Usually, these battlefield scenarios have balancing elements, so the theoretical odds are fifty-fifty… but clearly, the Han side doesn’t think they can lose.”

“So it’s a perfect chance to ignore our teammates, avoid cooperating, and grab as much advantage for ourselves as possible.”

Lank wore a grim expression as he spoke.

“Normally, the number of contractors entering a scenario should be about equal—no more than a difference of five at most. But it seems the other side has only three people. So where are the rest? Did they skip the opening plot and head straight to Guangzong?”

“They used an item?”

“I don’t know,” Dalbo replied, shaking his head. “That woman from Wuzhou must have some plan. She grabbed her chance right away, and with that, the local Yellow Turbans were as good as finished. Now, with both sides at war, she’s lying low again—who knows what she’s plotting next?”

“So what do we do? Keep fighting with the Han, or wait and see?”

“You see, the key doesn’t lie with us, but with our opponents. What do you think Lady Lin Feier and Mr. Gertini want us to do?”

“I see…” Lank brought his hands together and leaned back. “They’re hoping we’ll throw ourselves into battle so they can swoop in and reap the rewards. Fine, let’s wait and rest as well—let them pick over whoever they like!”