The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

Outside the tent, the campfire illuminated half the sky.

As Lü Sanjun's carriage arrived at the camp gate, he heard the thunderous cheers of the troops. Upon hearing the results of the military exercise and the news of Wang Zhonghua's request to be flogged, this richest man in Chenzhou immediately mobilized thirty cartloads of supplies from the city and personally escorted them to the camp to reward the troops. Although he was a merchant, he understood that offering help in times of need was far more valuable than adding to someone's success.

"Lord Ouyang, Lord Defense Commissioner!" Lü Sanjun bowed deeply to Ouyang Xiu and Di Qing before the campfire, his attitude extremely humble. "I heard that General Wang, a nurse, volunteered to serve in the military during today's martial arts exercise. Such a benevolent and righteous commander is truly a blessing to our Great Song! I am unworthy to offer you one hundred bottles of wound medicine, fifty jars of Drunken Eight Immortals wine, twenty pigs and twenty sheep, and one thousand bushels of fine rice to express my sincere gratitude."

Ouyang Xiu stroked his beard, sizing up the shrewd businessman, a hint of interest flashing in his eyes. He had long heard of Lü Sanjun, a leading figure in Chenzhou's business community, yet he never maintained close ties with the government. Today's actions were rather intriguing.

"Master Lü is very kind," Ouyang Xiu said calmly, "but I'm afraid your trip isn't just about delivering some wine and meat, is it?"

Lu Sanjun's heart skipped a beat, secretly thinking that Ouyang Xiu was indeed insightful. He quickly bowed, "Ouyang Xiu, you are wise! This humble subject dares to ask you to sample something." He waved for someone to bring in a sealed earthenware jar, "This is called 'Liuli Zui' (Crystal Intoxication), brewed using the distillation method taught by the King, and made with the clear spring water of Laomentan. It is extremely strong, yet has a long-lasting aftertaste. This humble subject believes that if such a fine wine could be sold throughout the world, it would surely benefit the people of the Song Dynasty."

Ouyang Xiu loved wine as much as his life, calling himself "The Drunken Old Man." He had tasted at least eight hundred, if not a thousand, fine wines in his life. At this moment, when he took the rough earthenware wine jar, he not only did not find it disgusting, but a hint of interest flashed in his eyes—given his status, he had seen countless exquisite wine vessels, but this unassuming jar had aroused his curiosity.

He first brought the jar close to his lips, not in a hurry to drink, but squinting his eyes and taking a deep breath. Beneath his white beard, his nostrils twitched slightly, like a gourmand facing the finest of delicacies. With that inhale, he suddenly froze—the intense aroma rushed straight to his head, making this self-proclaimed "drunkard" who had tasted all the world's finest wines freeze for three breaths.

"Um?"

He let out a soft exclamation of surprise, and his cloudy old eyes suddenly lit up, the light even more dazzling than the candlelight in the room.

Ouyang Xiu eagerly picked up the wine jar, disregarding all decorum, and took a large gulp straight from the jar. The moment the wine entered his throat, his eyes widened, and the wrinkles on his face seemed to be smoothed out by that mouthful of wine. He smacked his lips, his tongue carefully searching for the remaining aroma between his lips and teeth, his expression like that of a greedy cat that had stolen a fish.

"Wow...wow, that's great! It surpasses even the 'Eight Drunken Immortals' of the literati! Excellent!"

He slapped his thigh, excitedly standing up and pacing back and forth in the room with the wine jar in his hand. Realizing his lapse in composure, he sheepishly sat back down. But his eyes never left the jar of wine.

He looked at Wang Zhonghua, his gaze burning like a child who had seen a treasure: "This wine...this wine far surpasses the imperial brew in the palace! What's it called? How was it made? How much is left?"

He asked three questions in quick succession, so fast and urgently, that he had lost all the composure of a literary master of his time. He was clearly just an old child who had seen something he loved.

Lu Sanjun watched in stunned silence—he had dealt with Ouyang Xiu several times and knew that this old man was usually extremely particular about his appearance, maintaining a calm and composed demeanor even before the Emperor. Yet today, a mere jar of wine had ruined his composure?

Ouyang Xiu seemed to realize his loss of composure, cleared his throat, and tried to salvage some face. He picked up the wine jar and took another small sip, feigning composure, but the slight upturn of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes betrayed his joy.

"Master Lü," he turned to Lü Sanjun, trying to keep his tone steady, but the undisguised satisfaction still shone through his eyes and brows, "You have excellent taste."

After saying that, he couldn't help but look down at the wine jar in his hand, as if afraid that someone would snatch it away.

He looked exactly like a "drunkard" who had found a treasure—intoxicated not only by the wine, but also by his obsession with this ultimate delicacy.

Upon hearing this, Lü Sanjun felt reassured, knowing that his first move had been correct. He then said, "This humble subject is willing to donate thirty percent of the profits from this method to military funds to help General Wang train a fierce and powerful army. However, this humble subject's voice carries little weight, and I hope that Ouyang Xiu and the Defense Commissioner can serve as witnesses."

Di Qing and Ouyang Xiu exchanged a glance, both seeing approval in each other's eyes. This man truly lived up to his reputation as a business tycoon, knowing how to tie business to military and political affairs, thus both demonstrating loyalty and securing a powerful patron. Ouyang Xiu nodded slowly: "I will remember Master Lü's loyalty. In the future, the Song Dynasty's water transport may require your continued attention."

These words carried immense weight. Lü Sanjun was overjoyed, knowing that his risky move today had successfully bet on Wang Zhonghua, a hidden dragon, and secured Ouyang Xiu's connections. He bowed deeply: "This humble subject would gladly die for his cause!"

At this moment, Du Ziteng emerged from the tent, his expression anxious: "Miss Liu said that due to excessive blood loss, she needs ginseng to replenish her qi. But in the army..."

Lü Sanjun immediately interjected, "I have two century-old ginseng roots in my carriage, which I purchased at a high price from a northern merchant caravan. They are perfect to present to General Wang!"

Ouyang Xiu smiled slightly: "Master Lü is truly a timely help."

Lu Sanjun repeatedly said he dared not, but his resolve only grew stronger. What he was giving was not ginseng, but a pledge of allegiance to the inner circle of the capital.

Inside the tent, Liu Xinyi applied medicine to Wang Zhonghua's face and covered him with a light blanket. Sitting by the bed, she looked at his face, which appeared even more pale and handsome due to blood loss, and suddenly whispered, "I only realized today that you are not only a madman, but also a fool."

Wang Zhonghua opened his eyes, his gaze gentle: "Magnolia..."

"Don't speak." She pressed her hand to his lips, her fingertips icy cold. "Just listen. From this day forward, my clinic, Liu Xinyi's clinic, will be yours, Wang Zhonghua's. I will heal you every time you are injured. But if you dare to die, I will chase you to the underworld and snatch you back from the clutches of Yama, the King of Hell."

These words were spoken very softly, yet carried immense weight. Wang Zhonghua's heart skipped a beat. Gazing into her eyes, which shone astonishingly bright in the candlelight, he suddenly understood something.

Outside the tent, the campfire blazed even brighter. Lü Sanjun was personally distributing medicinal wine to the wounded soldiers. His attitude was humble, his words sincere, and every soldier who received the wine and meat was deeply grateful to him. Zhang Biao, holding a large bowl, watched this wealthy merchant treat his lowly soldiers with such courtesy and secretly admired him. He knew that from tonight onward, the Zhanghuatai camp not only had one more loyal ally but also a powerful financial backer.

Ouyang Xiu stood with his hands behind his back on the high platform, looking at the campfire that illuminated the military camp, watching Lü Sanjun move with ease among the soldiers, and then glancing at the gentle candlelight in Wang Zhonghua's tent. A meaningful smile appeared on his lips.

That night, iron will and tenderness intertwined, and the morale of the army and the trade routes converged. At the foot of Laoya Mountain, a much larger game was quietly unfolding, with the first move being made.

The tenth day of the first lunar month, at night.

Inside the central command tent of the Zhanghuatai camp, the crackling charcoal fire could not dispel the heavy atmosphere. Before a massive sand table—the Song Dynasty not only possessed war sand tables, but they also held a significant place in military history. It can be said to be a crucial period in their development from "embryonic" to "mature." With Shen Kuo's help, Wang Zhonghua's secret attack had developed a fairly sophisticated war sand table called a "wooden map." To explore for minerals and understand the surrounding mountains and terrain, Shen Kuo led several expeditions into the mountains around Wuyang and Ruzhou for surveys. Returning at night, they would use materials such as flour paste, sawdust, and molten wax to painstakingly sculpt the mountains, rivers, roads, and passes.

But that wasn't all. Shen Kuo felt that the wax version was difficult to move, so he had a carpenter carve a wooden version, which he named "Wooden Diagram." Wang Zhonghua praised it highly after seeing it and made many wooden diagrams based on it.

Key generals such as Ouyang Xiu, Di Qing, Wang Zhonghua, Zhang Biao, and Li Xin gathered together, while outside the tent, the north wind howled and the snowflakes grew increasingly dense.

"According to the 'Dark Arrow' team's reconnaissance efforts over the past three days," Wang Zhonghua said in a steady voice, pointing to the model of the Black Wind Stronghold on Qin Xiang Lake on the sand table, "the Black Wind Stronghold's bandit leader, Lu Laojiu, has indeed colluded with the Zoroastrian Church. He has about 800 core bandits under his command, along with about 2,000 followers and refugees, totaling nearly 3,000 people. The stronghold has high and thick walls, relying on Qin Xiang Lake and the foothills of Laoya Mountain, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack. Its greatest advantage lies in two aspects: first, the waterway allows it to communicate with bandit strongholds deep in Lushan; second, it is certain that our army will not dare to launch an attack during the heavy snow at the end of the year."

Di Qing interjected, his tiger-like eyes gleaming with a chilling light: "That's precisely why this battle is all about surprise! From New Year's Eve to the tenth, the bandits will be relaxed and reveling, and the heavy snow will conceal our army's movements. This is a godsend!"