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

On the ninth day of the third month, we crossed the border.

It drizzled on the day we crossed the border. The sand on both sides of the gap was compacted by the rain, so the horses' hooves didn't kick up dust. It took eleven thousand people a full day to cross.

Yang Hu was the last to cross. After he passed, he reined in his horse and glanced back at the opening behind him.

Three hundred and twenty li to the south is Heishiliang, another three hundred and twenty li to the south is Qingshikou, and further south is Biancheng.

This was the farthest he had been from that city in two years.

The gap wasn't the old one at Heishiliang, but another one forty miles to the northwest. That gap had no name; it was discovered by Liuye's scout team last winter, and it was eighty miles closer than the old one.

11,000 troops were dispatched.

This number was accumulated over four months. The original 5,420 soldiers of the Three Battalions, plus 1,300 who returned to the ranks during the winter, plus 2,000 who were added by the court after autumn, plus 2,300 soldiers who were listed but never actually registered, which Shao Qi found in the old register of the Left Battalion.

Those 2,300 were filled in June. The vacancies in the Left Battalion had been concealed for six years. Shao Qi submitted a file according to Yang Hu's order, and the Ministry of War reviewed it and filled the vacancies.

"General." The night before the expedition, Shao Qi came to the central command tent, bowing deeply, "I have made up for those six years."

"It wasn't a replacement for me."

"This subordinate understands," Shao Qi replied. "It's for supplying the men below."

The army marched for eleven days.

In eleven days, not a single barbarian was seen.

The grasslands are even sparser than last year. At this time last year, we could still spot cavalry, but this year, heading north, we've barely seen any herdsmen. Scouts sent out for thirty miles all returned with the same report: empty.

"They've taken everyone back," Liu Ye said.

On the twelfth day, we passed Baishaliang.

Baisha Ridge isn't a mountain, but a sand ridge stretching across the grassland, seemingly endless from east to west, and no more than ten feet high. To climb it, you have to go around it; once you reach the north slope, the view suddenly opens up.

Yang Hu was on the ridge in the afternoon.

Cui Ting, Shao Qi, and Yue Chong followed behind. The scar on Yue Chong's chest would still be faintly visible on a cloudy day, but he had mounted the horse himself and climbed the slope by himself.

Upon reaching the top of the beam, all four men reined in.

north.

Looking north from the top of the ridge, the grassland begins to change color forty miles away.

That's not the color of grass. That's the color of the mosquito net.

Patches and layers spread out from the endless east to the endless west. The center is black, gradually spreading outwards into scattered dots, continuing until the very end of sight.

The four people stood on the beam, and none of them spoke first.

Last March, they spent half a day counting those 1,200 tents.

There are countless examples in this area right now.

A muffled sound escaped Cui Ting's throat.

"General... how much is there?"

"I can't count them," Yang Hu said.

"One hundred thousand?"

"have no idea."

Yue Chong remained silent. He had guarded the frontier for twenty years, and at this moment, his hands trembled as he gripped his saddle.

"This humble general..." he began, his voice hoarse, "In my twenty years of service, the largest gathering of barbarians I have ever witnessed was fourteen years ago. That time, forty thousand men gathered, and when the report was sent to the capital, the Ministry of War said it was an exaggeration."

He raised his hand and pointed to the area to the north.

"That time, it wasn't even 30% of what it is now."

Shao Qi squatted down.

He wasn't unable to stand; he just needed to look lower. He squatted on the sand atop the beam for a long time before slowly speaking.

"General, this is not a single soldier."

"no."

"This is a race."

Qin Ying was the last to climb the beam. She stood atop the beam, looked for a long time, but didn't ask about the number of people.

"Can you tell anything from the arrangement of the tents?"

All three shook their heads.

"The tents in the barracks are arranged in rows, one row after another, with a passageway in the middle." Qin Ying pointed to the north, "That area isn't in rows, it's in circles. Circles upon circles, big circles within small circles."

"What kind of arrangement is that?"

"That's how the shepherds arrange things," Qin Ying said. "One circle represents one department. The bigger the circle, the bigger the department."

Yang Hu looked in the direction she was pointing.

From east to west, those circles are one after another, densely packed, countless.

"So that wasn't an army," Qin Ying said. "It was dozens of divisions, each with its own people and livestock, all gathered together in one place."

In the very middle of that area, forty miles away, stood something.

Forty miles apart, you can't see a single person, but you can see that thing.

It is extremely large.

Yang Hu later learned how large the banner was: the pole was made of three whole logs bound together, with two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) embedded in the ground and six zhang (approximately 3.3 meters) protruding above it. The banner was black, made of whole cowhides, sewn together one hundred and twenty times.

From the white sandbar, it looks like a needle stuck in the blackness.

The wind was strong, and the sand on the roof of the beam was blown close to the ground.

But the banner didn't move.

It's not that it doesn't float. It's just too heavy for the wind to lift. It stood there straight and still, from the time they climbed the beam until the sun began to set, without moving an inch.

"The scouts said they've been watching for three days without any movement." Cui Ting's voice was hoarse. "General, only today do I understand what he meant."

"What does that mean?"

"What's moving is the flag," Cui Ting said. "What's not moving is the nail."

That night, the army set up camp on the southern slope of Baishaliang.

Military discussions were held under the beam, not on the lintel. Yang Hu forbade anyone from going up to the lintel at night, nor allowed anyone to light more than three fires.

Four people are surrounding a picture spread out on the ground.

"State your numbers."

"We have 11,000," Cui Ting said. "10,400 are ready to fight, 210 are medical personnel, and 140 are scouts."

"What about the other side?"

No one responded to that.

"Willow leaf".

"exist."

"Don't guess," Yang Hu said. "Tonight, take your men down from the beams and search that area. Don't search the middle, search the edges. Find three things: First, whether those tents on the edge are for soldiers or the elderly and children; second, where their horses are; and third, whether there are any sick people."

"Yes."

"If you can't find it, come back. No risks allowed." Yang Hu added, "This trip is different from last year. Last year, if we made a mistake, we lost a scout. This year, if we make a mistake, we'll lose eleven thousand people."

Willow Leaf agreed.

After she left, only three people remained in the tent.

Yue Chongxian spoke first.

"General, let me say something discouraging."

"speak."

"If that area really has over 100,000, we can't fight it with 11,000," Yue Chong said. "It's not that we can't win, it's that we can't fight it. With that number as it is, no matter how we set up the formation, we can't do it."

"I second that," Shao Qi said.

"I know that too."

Cui Ting raised his head: "So, General, are you going to retreat?"

No refund.

"We can't fight even if we don't back out..."

"If we can't fight, then we won't fight." Yang Hu circled the dot on the map. "They've gathered so many people. If we retreat, they'll still head south. Then they'll choose the day and the place, and we'll defend. Defend until where? Until Heishiliang? Heishiliang can't hold 100,000 people."

He threw the broken branch onto the map.

"Since we're going to have to clash with them sooner or later, I'll do it when they're not ready."

"The general means..."

"Gathering 100,000 people is harder than fighting a battle," Yang Hu said. "How much do 100,000 people eat, drink, and excrete in a day? How many days did it take them to travel from the east, the west, and even further north? And how many days did they spend crammed together after they arrived?"

The expressions of the three people changed.

"General, you mean..."

"What I'm saying is that the very act of them gathering together is something that can't last long." Yang Hu placed his hand on the black area on the map. "I need to know how many days they've been squeezing together, and how many more days they can squeeze in."

"What if we can keep squeezing in for a long time?"

"Then let's wait," Yang Hu said. "They'll wait for me, and I'll wait for them. Whoever's camp is attacked first, that's who will move first."

The wind outside the tent picked up.

In March, the grasslands are already warm in the wind.

Yue Chong suddenly spoke again.

"General."

"Um."

"Fourteen years ago, they gathered forty thousand men, and I was there," he said. "That time, they didn't fight; they gathered for two months and then dispersed on their own."

Yang Hu raised his eyes.

Why did they break up?

Yue Chong shook his head.

"I don't know. Back then, I just thought it was a blessing from heaven for Dacheng." He paused, "But now that you mention it, General, I suddenly remembered something: that autumn, there was a great plague outside the border."