A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

The number was counted after dawn.

Six thousand three hundred and nine. Another one hundred and sixty-two came back during the night, some swimming back from the other side of the ditch, and some hiding in the grass all night.

Yang Hu stood on the earthen beam and had Cui Ting read the numbers aloud to the entire army.

After the reading was finished, no one shouted or cried. More than six thousand people sat motionless on the slope.

When he read the part about the military medical team, Cui Ting paused.

"The military medical team consists of 120 people, and 41 have returned."

Someone on the slope stood up.

He was a centurion from Captain Pang's battalion, the one who had been whipped in the snow that day and refused to take off his boots. After standing up, he didn't say a word, but simply took off his helmet and held it in his arms.

Then one more, then two more, stood up.

In the end, more than six thousand people were standing on the slope.

Su Heng stood half a step behind Yang Hu, her shoulders twitched slightly, but she quickly stopped.

Cui Ting closed the booklet and asked in a low voice, "The general said last night that they couldn't afford this number. Why are you mentioning it again today?"

"Last night's recitation was to crush the deaths of 1,500 people on their heads," Yang Hu said. "This morning's recitation was to let them know that there are still 6,309 survivors, waiting for them to bring these 6,309 back."

"The same number."

"The same number, just one night apart," Yang Hu said. "I recited it last night, and today no one can stand up on this slope."

That afternoon, Yang Hu summoned the commander of the Third Battalion to the back of the earthen ridge.

There was no tent; it had been left in the baggage train. The three of them sat down on a rock.

Yue Chong's left arm was slinged across his chest; the arrowhead was pulled out at night.

"Right now, there are three things," Yang Hu said, holding up three fingers. "People, food, and medicine."

"We still have 6,300 men. 4,700 are available to fight," Cui Ting said.

"Where's the grain?"

"Four days' worth of dry rations," Shao Qi answered quickly. He had spent the entire night calculating. "Three days' worth of horse feed. The medicine each person carries will last for two days."

"When will the next batch of grain arrive?"

The three of them fell silent.

That batch of grain was dispatched from Heishiliang in February, taking the old route, and was supposed to arrive in early March. Today is the seventh day of the third month.

"Send someone," Yang Hu said, "to the south to meet them."

Thirty riders were dispatched, led personally by Liu Ye.

The army remained where they were, retreating to a depression on the east side of the earthen ridge and setting up camp. There was a seeping spring in the depression, which only produced two buckets of water a day, but it was better than nothing.

On the first day, sixty packhorses that had lost weight were slaughtered.

The horse meat was distributed, but the liver was kept. Su Heng divided the remaining medicine into three categories according to the injuries: those who could be saved were given first, those who could be brewed by themselves were given later, and those who could not be saved were not given. This rule was set by herself, and she came to Yang Hu to confirm it afterward.

"General, I didn't give medicine to those thirty-odd people in the third class."

"right."

"……right?"

"There's only so much medicine," Yang Hu said. "If we give it to them, the hundred or so who could have lived will die. I've already calculated this in Qing Shi Kou."

Su Heng lowered her head.

"But I can't make up my mind. It was Physician Liu who taught me this method, and this is the first time I'm using it."

"Using it once is enough to remember it for a lifetime," Yang Hu said. "You don't need to come to me for confirmation afterward. What you decide is what I decide."

On the third day, Liu Ye returned.

Thirty riders went out, and twenty-seven returned. She was a little unsteady when she dismounted, and it took her a while to steady herself by holding onto the saddle before she came over.

"General, the supply convoy has none."

"No?"

"It's 180 li south of here, and the whole road is empty," Liu Ye said. "There are no cart tracks, no ashes from campsites, and no leftover fodder. No brigade's carts have traveled this road for almost a month."

Cui Ting stood up abruptly.

"Impossible. The grain rations distributed in February are enough for two trips a month."

"We weren't intercepted." Liu Ye handed over a piece of paper, its corners frayed. "We found a courier at the post station north of Black Stone Beam. This is what he gave us."

That was a receipt.

When grain carts passed through a post station, a receipt was required, specifying the time, number of carts, and destination. This receipt shows that on February 24th, forty grain carts were dispatched to the frontier camp.

There's a note below.

The annotation is only one line: "By order of transfer, temporarily stationed."

"Where are you staying temporarily?"

"The courier said the caravan reached Black Stone Ridge and stopped at the southern foot of the mountain, where it remained for six days," Liu Ye said. "After six days, it turned around and headed southeast."

"What's southeast?"

"To the southeast is Qing Shi Kou."

There was silence behind the earthen ridge for a moment.

Cui Ting's face flushed red: "What's so special about Qing Shi Kou? Qing Shi Kou was relieved of its siege last year! What's the point of sending forty cartloads of grain to Qing Shi Kou?"

"Temporarily staying." Yang Hu took the receipt.

The paper was thin, and the handwriting was extremely neat, with no more than four characters. It didn't say who transferred it, what it was for, or when it would be reissued.

There wasn't a single flaw.

"General, did the barbarians do this?" Shao Qi asked.

Yang Hu turned the receipt over; the back was blank.

"The barbarian cavalry can't get into the southern foothills of Black Stone Ridge," he said. "That's inside the pass."

Shao Qi opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Yue Chong, with one arm in a sling, sat on a rock and suddenly spoke.

"General."

"General Yue spoke."

"In my nineteen years in the frontier, I have seen grain shipments delayed. Delays of three or five days have happened every year," Yue Chong said slowly, enunciating each word clearly. "But I have never seen a grain cart turn back halfway through its journey."

"This humble general has never seen it either," Cui Ting said.

Yang Hu folded the receipt twice.

He took out the small box he always carried with him from his pocket and opened it.

Five things lay in the box: a three-edged, grooved arrowhead, a handful of dregs of medicine, a strip of cloth used to wrap a wound, a palindrome with the words "Accounts in the Register Room" written on it, and a piece of leather with three horizontal lines and one vertical line drawn on it.

He put the receipt inside.

The sixth item.

The sound of the lid closing was very soft.

"General," Cui Ting's voice was somewhat hoarse, "Should we report this matter now?"

"To whom should we report this?"

Cui Ting fell silent.

"These four characters were approved from within the Great Wall." Yang Hu put the box back into his pocket. "This document of mine is being sent south. It will pass through several hands along the way, and each hand may add four more characters."

He stood up.

"No report today. Keep this paper; I'll take it out when I get to a place where it can speak."

"So, right now..."

"There's only one thing right now," Yang Hu said, pointing to the more than six thousand people in the depression. "Four days' worth of dry rations and three days' worth of horse feed. I have to make sure these six thousand three hundred people have food within four days."

Shao Qi raised his head.

"General, there is another way."

"speak."

"Retreat south," Shao Qi said. "Retreat back to Heishiliang, it's 180 li, a seven-day journey with light packs. If the grain doesn't come, we'll go get it ourselves."

"Seven days' journey, four days' provisions."

"You can even kill horses on the road."

"What will we use to carry the wounded soldiers after the horses are all killed?" Yang Hu scanned the 6,300 men again. "We'll carry the more than 400 seriously wounded men, and they can't even travel 30 li a day. It will take them 12 days to cover a 7-day journey."

Shao Qi remained silent.

"There's one more thing," Yang Hu said. "As we retreat south, the barbarians are right behind us. They have more horses than us, and their men are lighter. They'll follow us all the way to Black Stone Ridge, taking one bite a day. If 4,000 out of 6,300 people manage to get back, that's considered good."

"So, what does the general mean?"

No refund.

Cui Ting was startled: "General, why aren't we retreating and waiting here? Waiting for what?"

Yang Hu glanced northward.

"Wait until he can't hold on any longer."

That night the wind direction changed again, shifting from northwest to due north.

In the middle of the night, Su Heng came to find him carrying a lamp.

Her face was deathly pale under the light.

"General."

"speak."

"In the area east of the depression, nineteen people collapsed tonight," she said. "They're vomiting and have diarrhea, and four of them can't get up."

Yang Hu pulled his robe tighter around himself and stood up.

Who is in charge of that spring?

"Two members of the military medical team guarded it, filtering and boiling it before it was fermented," Su Heng said. "General, it's not a spring."

"What is that?"

"It's horse meat." Su Heng's voice lowered. "The meat from the sixty horses slaughtered on the first day couldn't be divided up, so the rest was hung on the trees to dry. Today the weather is warmer."