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

On the seventh day of the tenth month, the imperial edict arrived.

The person who came to deliver the imperial edict was not from the Ministry of War.

Cui Ting noticed something amiss at the gate of the camp. The flag carried by that group was not from the Ministry of War, and the leader was not dressed in the uniform of a military officer. He was a secretary from the Ministry of Rites, accompanied by two clerks from the Ministry of State Ceremonies.

"Ministry of Rites?" Cui Ting didn't react for a moment.

"Nobility is not under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of War," Yang Hu said.

The purpose was to spread the message on the drill ground. In October, frost had already fallen in the border region. More than 5,000 men from the Third Battalion stood in the field, their breath forming a white cloud overhead.

When those two words were announced, the audience was initially stunned.

Viscount.

One year and two months ago, a ceremony was held at the drill ground in Qingshikou. The ranks announced were general, valiant cavalry captain, and baron. The first thing that happened that day was, "How did a doctor become a general?"

This time, no one shouted.

More than five thousand people stood there, and no one uttered a sound. After a long while, they began to kneel down, row by row, starting from the right wing.

The official from the Ministry of Rites, who was announcing the imperial decree, stood on the platform and looked at the people kneeling down. His expression changed several times.

He came all the way from the capital with a different plan in mind. The ranks of nobility, from baron to viscount, increased by one level per year—a rarity unprecedented among military generals in this dynasty. He had expected to see an arrogant border general.

What he saw now was a camp.

A pole stood at the camp gate, with a piece of paper pasted on it listing the number of wounded soldiers returning to their units in October. To the east of the drill ground stretched a long stretch of wounded soldiers' camp, sixty tents spaced far apart. Near the kitchen, seven pots were set up, each boiling water.

After announcing the imperial decree, he invited Yang Hu to step aside.

"Lord Yang..." he changed his words, "Viscount Yang, I have something to convey."

"Please speak, sir."

"This edict was not drafted by the Ministry of War," the doctor said in a low voice. "It was issued after being discussed by the Council of State Affairs."

Yang Hu raised his eyes.

Why bypass the Ministry of War?

"This humble official dares not speak presumptuously," the physician said. "This humble official only knows one thing: regarding the military merit report for the battle on March 30th, the Ministry of War approved it as 'meritorious in defeating the enemy.' When these four words were reported to the Council of State Affairs, a minister asked a question."

"What did you ask?"

"Question: If beheading 4,700 and defeating 20,000 enemy soldiers is considered a victory, then what does a great victory for our dynasty look like?"

The wind made the flags by the drill ground flutter loudly.

"The Ministry of War can't answer that," the doctor said. "If they can't answer it, then the military merit requirement will be put on hold. But the title of nobility doesn't go through the Ministry of War. The Council of State Affairs has discussed it, the Ministry of Personnel has drafted it, and the Ministry of Rites will announce it."

Yang Hu understood.

Military merits are recorded in the Ministry of War's accounts, and that hand is within the Ministry of War, so it can keep things under control.

No title. A title requires passing through three levels of government, and he cannot control all three.

"grown ups."

"Viscount, please speak."

"The Ministry of War's Department of Military Affairs received a memorial from me in April, but there has been no response since," Yang Hu said. "Does the Council of State Affairs know about this?"

The official in charge of the Ministry of Rites' eyes twitched.

"I don't know," he said slowly. "However, on my way here, I passed by the Bureau of Personnel and heard that in June, a junior official surnamed Pei returned from beyond the Great Wall and submitted a document to the Ministry for discussion. That document is still in the archives."

"Still there?"

"It's still there." The doctor cupped his hands in greeting. "Viscount, the paper is in the archives, so it's still alive."

The camp was bustling for three days after that day.

The three battalion commanders were each awarded a rank for their merits. Shao Qi was appointed to the substantive post of Captain, Yue Chong was promoted one rank, and Colonel Pang and Colonel Chang were each promoted one rank. Cui Ting was reassigned from the position of Central Army Assistant General to the substantive position of Vanguard Battalion Assistant General.

The reward money was distributed on the same day.

Yang Hu's two hundred taels, plus this time's rank and salary, totaling four hundred and thirty taels, were all left behind.

Three hundred and twenty taels were given to the 2,341 families who died in battle, one copy for each family according to the list. It wasn't much, but every family received one. The remaining one hundred and ten taels were used to buy salt and charcoal, which were then taken to the wounded soldiers' camp.

When Cui Ting was reporting the accounts, he couldn't help but say, "General, you didn't have a single ounce left."

"What do I need money for?"

"...You always need to buy a new outfit for the New Year."

"Clothes are available."

That night, he opened the small box he carried with him and checked everything one by one.

A three-edged, barbed arrowhead.

A handful of dregs from boiled wound medicine.

A strip of cloth used to wrap a wound.

A reply from the Beidao military supply depot, containing four characters: "The accounts are in the register room."

A piece of leather with three horizontal lines and one vertical line drawn on it, splitting into two forks.

A post station receipt had four words written on it: "By order of transfer, temporarily stationed."

Six items.

He rearranged the six items and closed the box lid.

The memorial sent in April has yet to receive a reply. The military merits are held by the Ministry of War. Yet these six items are still in his hands, and none are missing.

Qin Ying arrived that night.

Her left rib had healed, and she could walk normally. When she entered the tent, she was carrying something in her hand: a new cotton robe.

"General Cui said you didn't put on any new clothes."

Yang Hu was stunned for a moment.

"Did you sew this?"

"I don't know how to sew." Qin Ying placed the robe on the table. "It was sent by Miss Lu. It was in the carriage in June, and it was at the bottom of the stack. She didn't mention it in her letter."

Yang Hu picked up the robe. The stitches were very tight, and the cuffs were gathered tightly; it was made according to the style of a horseman.

"Qin Ying".

"Um."

"When you led eight hundred men out in March, Commandant Chang said that without the commander-in-chief's order, not a single soldier left behind could move."

He's right.

"But you still came."

Qin Ying sat down at the table.

"I served in the military for ten years, and I understand the rules," she said. "Rules are good things, but there's one rule: if the commander-in-chief hasn't been heard from for two months, the soldiers left behind are not allowed to move. Who made this rule?"

Yang Hu did not answer.

"It was decided by those who wouldn't just wait to die on the grasslands," Qin Ying said.

That winter passed very quietly.

Three snowfalls occurred in November, and the roads were blocked in December. The northern route was cut off for twenty days, and the route at Qingshikou was cut off for even longer. The grain was delayed twice, but the camp could manage: after the grain shortage this spring, Yang Hu set up a grain storage cellar in each of the three camps, storing enough for half a month.

By the end of December, only ninety-seven wounded soldiers remained in the battalion.

The military medical team has been replenished to 210 men. Captain Pang's thirty men who learned bandaging can now each lead a team.

Before the spring thaw, Liu Ye's scout team doubled in size. She divided the sixty-two men into two groups, one to train and the other to go out and explore. By February, one hundred and forty of them could navigate the grasslands.

In February, the snow melted earlier than last year in the border region.

On February 26th, Liu Ye returned.

She had returned from the north, and as soon as she entered the tent, she took off her hood, her hair still damp with melted snow.

"General."

"speak."

"Go four hundred li north, past that White Sand Ridge," Liu Ye said, "there's a crowd gathered there."

"How many?"

"I can't see clearly." Liu Ye shook her head. "It's not a few thousand, nor tens of thousands. It's a whole area. The scouts have been looking from the beams for half a day, and they can't see the end of it from east to west."

Cui Ting's breathing tightened.

"Is it the ten thousand or so that ran away last year?"

"Not just that," Liu Ye said. "Those people are just a small part of it. The rest are all newcomers, coming from the east, the west, and even further north, gathering there from all directions."

"What are you doing gathered there?"

Liu Ye took something out of her bosom and placed it on the table.

That was a small piece of wool rope.

It was rubbed in the same way as the one she picked up under that embankment last year, and the one she picked up on the road while herding sick animals in March.

"General, they are not setting up camp," she said. "They are on their way to a summons."

Yang Hu stood up.

"Who summoned them?"

Liu Ye pushed the flattened wooden board on the table over and pointed it at the far north end.

"The scouts, perched on the beams, saw something standing in that area, forty li away."

"What is it?"

“A huge banner,” Liu Ye said. “It’s black, extremely large, and stuck in the very center. The scouts said that in the three days since they arrived there, the banner hasn’t moved an inch.”

The charcoal brazier inside the tent crackled.

Yang Hu placed his hand on the spot on the willow leaf.

"The Khan himself came," he said.