Pei Yi sat inside the simple military tent, his left arm held down by a soldier.
He actually did not really want to sit down.
There was still the aftermath left behind by the Northern Di outside the city that needed to be cleaned up, the wounded soldiers needed to be counted, and the gaps in the city walls needed to be sealed.
The moment he thought of these things, he could not sit still. However, he had only taken three steps when he was hauled back by a personal guard sent by Xiao Yuan.
“His Highness said that you are not allowed to leave the tent until your wound is bandaged.”
Pei Yi was silent for a moment. He could only resign himself to sitting back down on that creaking wooden stool and let the accompanying military medic clean his wound.
The medic was young, but his hands were very steady. Pei Yi, however, was not particularly cooperative.
“General, please don’t move.”
“I didn’t move.”
“You just moved.”
“That was trembling, not moving.”
Medic: “……”
He lowered his head and continued changing the dressing, deciding not to argue with an injured patient.
Pei Yi lowered his head and looked at his arm, which was wrapped in blood-soaked cloth.
The strips of cloth were already saturated with blood, and in the cold wind, a layer of dark ice had formed over them.
The medic was slowly peeling away the ice piece by piece. His movements were very slow, as if dismantling armor that had been frozen solid.
Pei Yi did not feel any pain.
Or rather, he had already hurt so much that he could no longer feel the pain.
He thought about the several sections of city wall that had been smashed by the Northern Di outside the city.
The dwindling food supplies in the granary.
Those soldiers who had not managed to make it to today.
Every single one weighed more heavily than his wound.
Just then, the tent flap was lifted again.
A gust of cold wind carrying fine snow rushed inside.
Pei Yi raised his head, and the first person he saw was Chi Banyue.
She wore a dark cloak, and her long hair was somewhat disheveled.
Her complexion was not very good. Her lips were pursed, carrying an impatience that had been suppressed for a long time.
Beside her, she was supporting someone—Xia Lanshi.
The moment he saw Xia Lanshi, Pei Yi’s spine stiffened, and he immediately sat up straight.
Xia Lanshi was wrapped in a white fox-fur cloak, his entire body almost curled up inside it. His face was so pale that he barely looked alive. His eyelashes were lowered, his eyes half-open and half-closed, and Chi Banyue was practically dragging and supporting him into the tent.
His steps were unsteady. Each foot landed without firmness, as though he could fall forward at any moment.
Pei Yi’s wound suddenly stopped hurting.
Because something far more nerve-racking than his wound had appeared.
He instinctively straightened his back and hid his still-bleeding arm behind him, like a child who had been caught red-handed after doing something wrong.
Chi Banyue did not look at him.
She helped Xia Lanshi to the other field bed inside the tent. Her movements were not particularly gentle, but they could not be called rough either.
She had Xia Lanshi sit against the headboard, then took a small silver-gray pouch from inside her robes—the one Su Muzhen had prepared. Inside were a thermometer, fever-reducing medicine, and nutritional supplements.
She opened the package without even raising her head.
“Lord Xia, Chief Secretary.” Chi Banyue’s voice was very calm, so calm that it carried a trace of coldness. “How many days have you had a fever?”
Xia Lanshi did not answer immediately.
Leaning against the headboard, his breathing was somewhat labored, his chest rising and falling slightly, as though he needed to gather enough strength even to speak.
After a moment, he finally said weakly, “It only started this morning. It wasn’t particularly high.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he began coughing.
Chi Banyue finally raised her head and looked at him.
There was no anger or reproach in that look, yet it made the temperature inside the tent seem to drop several degrees.
“What do you mean, it only started this morning? You were already coughing four days ago. The night before last, you were writing documents in your tent until the third watch. When I went in, your hands were ice-cold. Yesterday, you had already started running a fever, and you said, ‘It’s nothing.’”
Chi Banyue held the thermometer out to him.
“See for yourself. How high is it? Today, you almost fell off your horse.”
Xia Lanshi closed his eyes and said nothing.
Seeing his attitude, Chi Banyue became even more annoyed and issued a threat.
“I’ll report this truthfully to Doctor Su.”
At those words, Xia Lanshi helplessly opened his eyes and sighed.
“I know I was wrong.”
Pei Yi listened beside them with his heart in his throat, but he was even more astonished.
In his impression, although Xia Lanshi was physically frail, his temperament was not weak in the slightest. He even dared to argue with Xiao Yuan.
Because he was eloquent and quick-witted, very few people could make him listen. In the past, even Chi Banyue had been helpless against Xia Lanshi.
Yet now Xia Lanshi had admitted his mistake so simply.
Just who exactly was this “Doctor Su”?
At this moment, however, Pei Yi was also secretly relieved that Xia Lanshi did not have the strength to turn around and look at him.
Because if Xia Lanshi turned around, he would definitely first start lecturing him about the military reports, battle situation, and conditions inside the city. Then he would notice his arm, which had gone out without being properly bandaged, and those red eyes would quietly stare at him until he lowered his head and admitted his mistake.
After that, he would punish him in all sorts of ways.
Chi Banyue finally turned her head and glanced at Pei Yi.
She saw the arm still held by the medic, the wound slowly seeping blood, and then saw the movement he had instinctively made to hide it behind him.
Her brows moved slightly.
She said nothing, but that expression had already said everything—
You’re here too.
Pei Yi immediately turned his head toward the medic and spoke in a low voice, his tone inexplicably sincere.
“Quickly, finish bandaging it.”
Right now, he only wanted to leave the military tent as soon as possible, before Xia Lanshi noticed him.
The medic was stunned for a moment, then lowered his head and continued treating the wound.
The tent fell silent for a while.
Chi Banyue handed the fever medicine and water to Xia Lanshi. The latter obediently accepted them without saying, as he normally would, “Put it there for now.”
Because he knew that Chi Banyue would keep waiting until he swallowed the medicine before looking away.
Xia Lanshi swallowed the medicine and placed the cup back on the table.
When he raised his eyes again, he looked toward Pei Yi and spoke hoarsely.
“How is General Pei’s injury?”
Pei Yi’s entire body stiffened.
So Xia Lanshi had noticed he was there all along.
But he had obediently changed his dressing. Why was he still being called out?
He did not dare turn around. He could only hear Xia Lanshi’s gentle, warm voice, tinged with illness, coming from behind him.
“When I entered the tent just now, I saw that the cloth around General Pei’s arm had already frozen solid. If you delay any longer, once the wound becomes infected, even after it heals, it may affect the strength of your grip on a spear.”
Pei Yi’s back went rigid, like a statue frozen in place.
He did not dare argue, because Xia Lanshi was right.
There was not even any reproach in those words, only a statement of fact.
Precisely because they were facts, there was even less room to argue.
Yet when those words came from Xia Lanshi’s mouth, Pei Yi felt as though he had committed some enormous crime.
Chi Banyue glanced at Pei Yi and said calmly, “Heard him? You’re a patient too. Don’t rely on being strong and force yourself to endure it.”
Pei Yi was silent for a moment before saying quietly, “This subordinate knows his mistake.”
Those words were directed at Xia Lanshi, and there was a nearly habitual obedience in his tone.
The medic beside him was stunned. Clearly, he had never seen this defender, whose face was covered in blood and grime and who had held the city wall for more than ten days, make such an expression.
Xia Lanshi lightly coughed twice and did not speak again.
Leaning against the headboard, he closed his eyes, as though he had finally reached his limit.
His white hair fell loose over his shoulders. Under the dim firelight, he looked exceptionally fragile.
Chi Banyue walked over to him and reached out to feel his forehead. Then she frowned.
She draped a thick blanket over him. Her movements were gentler than before as she said quietly, “Lie down. Close your eyes. His Highness and General Pei will handle the military affairs.”
Xia Lanshi did not answer, but obediently leaned back against the headboard, as though using the last of his strength to tell her, “All right.”
Chi Banyue tucked the edge of the blanket around him, stood up, and walked over to Pei Yi. She lowered her head and looked at his arm, which the medic had finally finished bandaging.
“Not bad,” she said.
Pei Yi looked up at her, unexpectedly forgetting to be nervous.
Chi Banyue also looked down at him. The calm and composed expression she had worn when facing Xia Lanshi was gone. Instead, she smiled lightly.
“General Pei, thank you for defending the city.”
That smile was very light, as though she had said it casually, yet it made Pei Yi feel as though his wound truly no longer hurt.
He was stunned for a moment before finding his voice again. His tone was more awkward than usual.
“It’s nothing. This subordinate was only doing what he should.”
He had not seen Chi Banyue for several years. The Chi Banyue of today had grown even more beautiful than before, leaving him unsure where he should put his eyes.
Chi Banyue’s smile deepened slightly. She turned around to tidy the medicine pouch and said nothing more.
Pei Yi sat there, lowering his head to look at his bandaged arm.
At his ear was the faint sound of Xia Lanshi’s breathing. Before his eyes was Chi Banyue’s back as she organized the medicine pouch.
Only now did his constantly tense body relax a little.
Although the battle situation was terrible, Xiao Yuan had arrived, and Xia Lanshi and Chi Banyue had also come.
He had finally waited for a little hope.
◇◆◇◆◇
When Xiao Yuan returned from Guichen Studio, dawn had already broken.
The instant the white light closed behind him, the chill of the northern frontier wrapped around his shoulders again, like a cloak soaked in ice water.
He stood inside an abandoned storeroom in the rear courtyard of the military city’s government office. He lowered his head and glanced at his palm. The faint vibration from when he had just grasped the door ring still lingered on his fingertips. This sense of connection was even more distinct than when he was at Prince Su’s Residence in the capital.
He pushed open the storeroom door and walked toward the council hall.
Pei Yi was already waiting there.
He had changed into a clean battle robe. His left arm had been bandaged again, and the wound on his brow had also been treated.
He looked somewhat neater than last night, but the bloodshot eyes and hollow lines along his cheeks told Xiao Yuan that this man had barely slept properly for more than ten days.
“Your Highness.” Pei Yi cupped his fists.
Xiao Yuan sat down opposite him. Several blank registers and a few oil lamps that had yet to go out were spread across the table.
He exchanged no pleasantries and spoke directly.
“Within today, I want to know five things.”
Pei Yi immediately took up paper and brush.
“First, how many soldiers in the military city are still capable of fighting. Second, how many wounded soldiers there are, with the severely and lightly wounded counted separately. Third, how much edible grain remains in the granary, and how many days it can last based on daily consumption. Fourth, what medicinal supplies remain and how much of each. Fifth, how many civilians remain in the city, separated into those alive, those able to move, and those seriously ill.”
Pei Yi’s brush moved rapidly as he recorded each item.
He raised his head and asked, “But Chief Secretary Xia appears to be seriously ill?”
“He caught a chill during the forced march.” Xiao Yuan’s tone was flat, and he did not elaborate. “For now, have your military clerks take over the document statistics. Once the registers are organized, bring them directly to my desk.”
Pei Yi was silent for a moment but did not say anything further. He simply nodded and accepted the order.
◇◆◇◆◇
By that afternoon, the registers were delivered to Xiao Yuan’s desk one after another.
The first was the troop roster.
Pei Yi’s handwriting was more forceful than usual, as though writing down these numbers required additional strength. There were fewer than six thousand soldiers capable of fighting. Beside it, Pei Yi had added a small note:
Most are exhausted, have been fighting for a long time without rest, and need rotation and reorganization.
The thirty thousand soldiers Xiao Yuan had brought, combined with the military city’s existing forces, gave them a total of roughly thirty-five thousand troops.
But the military city could not accommodate more than thirty thousand soldiers.
Thus, Xiao Yuan ordered the main army to be stationed in two camps outside the city, east and west. Only the central army and troops assigned to rotations would remain inside the city. The remaining soldiers would establish camps where they were.
Of these thirty thousand troops, twelve thousand had been transferred from the capital’s army. They had been given by the Emperor in name, but among them were not only spies planted by the Emperor, but also people belonging to the Crown Prince.
He had to guard against these people.
The second was the wounded roster.
There were more than four hundred severely wounded, nearly two thousand lightly wounded, and more than a hundred infected with disease.
The medicinal supplies column had one character circled in red:
Depleted.
Pei Yi had added a sentence below:
“Using plant ash, snow water, and strips of cloth for treatment. The number of infections is increasing daily.”
The third was the food supply.
The military city’s granary was almost empty. Adding the military provisions Xiao Yuan had brought to the remaining grain in the city, they could last eleven days if rations were distributed at the minimum level.
Under normal rations, they would last less than seven days.
The fourth was the civilian statistics.
There were still more than seven thousand civilians in the city, mostly elderly people, women, and children. The able-bodied young adults had been incorporated into the defenses during the siege, and more than half had been killed or wounded.
Most of those still alive had sallow complexions, and signs of an epidemic had already appeared among them.
Xiao Yuan read through all four registers from beginning to end. Then he stacked them in order and placed them at the corner of the desk.
He did not issue an order immediately.
He simply sat there in silence for a long time.
Occasionally, the footsteps of soldiers could be heard outside the council hall, like some dull metronome.
He remembered Linzhou.
Back then, Su Muzhen had said that only after calculating how many people, how much grain, and how much medicine they had could they know how to survive.
Now he had done exactly that.
Yet the numbers he had obtained were like stones, one after another, weighing down his chest.
He stood up.
“Go to the camps.”
◇◆◇◆◇
The news that Xiao Yuan was inspecting the camps quickly spread.
He did not ride a horse. Instead, he walked through the main street of the military city, inspecting the granaries, visiting the wounded soldiers’ camp, and walking to the gaps in the city wall.
He did not say much. He merely let the soldiers see him here, let them see that the Silver Wolf Banner was still flying atop the city wall.
An old soldier was squatting beside the wall, gnawing on dry rations. When he saw Xiao Yuan pass by, he froze for a moment, then put down his food and tried to salute.
Xiao Yuan immediately pressed down on his shoulder.
“Finish eating first.”
The old soldier opened his mouth, then finally whispered, “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Xiao Yuan continued forward.
The wounded soldiers’ camp was filled with a heavy smell, mixed with blood, medicinal herbs, and damp cloth. The shelter was packed with wounded soldiers. Some were groaning softly; others leaned against the walls with their eyes closed, as though they no longer even had the strength to open them.
Some were burning with high fevers. Others had wounds that had festered, yet there was no medicine left to use.
Xiao Yuan stood at the entrance of the camp for a moment. He asked the medic a few questions, patted the man’s shoulder, then turned and walked toward the next place.
The civilians’ gathering area was in the eastern part of the city.
Several rows of simple huts were crowded together, with torn cloth hung at the entrances to keep out the cold.
There was so little porridge in a single pot that more than a hundred people were lined up for it.
Someone recognized him and softly called, “Prince Su.”
There was no delight in the voice, more like a cautious confirmation.
Xiao Yuan stood before that row of huts and watched for a while without entering.
He knew that saying anything now was not as useful as sending in grain and medicine.
He turned and walked back.
Along the way, everywhere his eyes fell, the soldiers’ backs were a little straighter than before.
Not because he had said anything inspiring.
Simply because he had come, and he had not hurriedly left.
He let everyone know that he was here.
That he had not abandoned this place.
◇◆◇◆◇
That evening, Xiao Yuan issued his first military order inside the council hall.
“The entire city will enter military administration. Grain will be distributed uniformly by the government office, issued daily according to the number of people. Wounded soldiers and children first, pregnant women and the elderly next, able-bodied adults last. All grain stored within the city must be registered. No private hoarding and no private trading.
“If anyone violates this—”
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the generals inside the hall.
“They will be dealt with according to military law.”
No one raised an objection.
Because everyone had seen the numbers on those registers.
That night, Pei Yi discovered more than ten sacks of unregistered grain in a side granary in the western part of the city.
They had been secretly withheld by a low-ranking officer responsible for logistics, who had originally planned to sell them to wealthy households in the city once grain prices soared.
Pei Yi had the officer brought before the government office. Xiao Yuan did not question him directly. Instead, he ordered the batch of grain carried to the granary entrance and publicly counted before returning it to the public storehouse.
He also ordered all the other granaries to conduct immediate self-inspections.
When the officer was taken away, his face was deathly pale, but no one pleaded for him.
Because everyone knew that the grain could originally have saved more people.
That night, every granary in the military city was recounted. Several more cases of privately hoarded grain and falsified account books were subsequently uncovered.
During the night, Xia Lanshi was awakened by Chi Banyue, who forced medicine down him.
Although his high fever had not subsided, he still forced himself to organize the conditions of the various garrisons throughout the northern frontier.
He drew a map of the northern frontier. Supporting his weakened body, he then took out the emergency manual written by Su Muzhen from inside his robes and handed it to Xiao Yuan.
“Follow this. It will work.”
His voice was so hoarse that it was almost impossible to hear, and his fingertips were pale and translucent.
Xiao Yuan accepted the manual and opened it.
Concentrate patients in designated areas, divide wounded soldiers into separate zones, handle corpses collectively, separate water sources.
It was the same system used in Linzhou. Xia Lanshi had added many notes beside it, each one written out clearly.
He handed the manual to Pei Yi and had him carry it out according to the instructions.
When Pei Yi received the manual, his expression was somewhat complicated.
He had heard of this Doctor Su and the Guichen Medical Sect. He had also heard of the “foreign curios” transported from Hanchuan.
But when he actually saw these orderly emergency measures, he still felt as though someone had reached a hand into the chaos of the northern frontier and precisely pressed down on several of its most critical lifelines.
“Get some rest. Otherwise, prepare yourself to receive three additional pages of new regulations from Doctor Su,” Xiao Yuan said seriously.
“Don’t tell Doctor Su about this……” Xia Lanshi said weakly.
“Do you think I would hide it?”
Xia Lanshi felt helpless. He almost wished he could recover immediately and pretend that none of this had happened.
By now, Pei Yi had already lost count of how many times he had heard people mention Doctor Su today.
Especially after seeing Xia Lanshi completely subdued by a physician, he could not help becoming curious.
“Your Highness, who is this Doctor Su?”
“Doctor Su of the Guichen Medical Sect.”
“And what is the Guichen Medical Sect?”
“A branch of a medical sect from overseas.”
“……”
Pei Yi vaguely sensed that this was a secret he could not probe into, so he asked no more.
Xiao Yuan patted his shoulder.
“You only need to know that Doctor Su is my man. That is enough.”
“Yes.”
Although Pei Yi had never met Doctor Su himself, Xiao Yuan was not someone who casually took people under his command.
Since Xiao Yuan had said this, then this Doctor Su was certainly someone trustworthy.
Soon, the patients inside the city began to be housed in separate zones.
Those with fevers in one area, those with external injuries in another, and those with mild illnesses in another.
The water supply was redistributed. Three old wells were sealed, leaving only two sources from which soldiers supervised the collection of water.
Corpses were no longer buried randomly. After being centrally recorded, they were collectively transported to a designated area outside the city and buried deep underground.
Xiao Yuan stood atop the city wall, watching the soldiers and civilians below act in batches according to the rules in the manual.
The system from Linzhou was now working again in the First Military City of the Northern Frontier.
And the person who had written this manual was currently on the other side of the Gate.
Pei Yi walked over from the other side of the city wall, several newly compiled statistical registers in his hands.
“Your Highness, the gap in the city wall is being filled.”
Xiao Yuan accepted the registers and glanced at them.
“What about the arrow towers?”
“They’re being repaired. We don’t have enough manpower. We’ll repair the city gates and the gaps first. The arrow towers will come afterward.”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
“The Northern Di will come again.”
Pei Yi did not deny it.
“Therefore, the city wall has to be able to support people first.”
Xiao Yuan returned the registers to him, his gaze turning toward the north.
Ahead lay a wilderness swallowed by the heavy darkness of night.
Although Helián Cang’s banner had retreated into the snowy plains, it had not fallen.
Wolves never leave the hunting ground forever.
This was the first lesson Xiao Yuan had learned in the northern frontier, and it was one Helián Cang had taught him with his blade.
Xiao Yuan stood atop the city wall, snowflakes settling upon his shoulder armor.
To the north was the Cangyuan Khanate.
To the south was the capital.
And beneath his feet was the devastated military city.
The Northern Di would come again, and the imperial court would not let him off either.
But this was not his endpoint.
If he could not even defend this city, then everything that came afterward would be impossible.
He gazed at the city amid the wind and snow.
For a long time.
“Pei Yi.”
“Here.”
“Give the order. From this day onward, the First Military City of the Northern Frontier will be renamed—Linbei. Reestablish the city register.”
Pei Yi lowered his head and cupped his fists. His voice carried an almost stubborn certainty.
“Understood.”
This First Military City of the Northern Frontier—Linbei City—from this moment onward, would become his—Xiao Yuan’s—starting point.
The place where he stood would no longer merely be a frontier military city.
It would be the core of the Northern Frontier.
Amid the wind and snow, the Silver Wolf Banner snapped and billowed atop the city wall.