Extreme Frontier Army: Starting from the bottom ranks, conquering the chaotic world

Three days.

It took three full days, starting from when the supervisory team took away the last bag of brown rice from the kitchen.

On the first day, some people were even cursing.

The next day, the person who had been cursing started licking the soot from the pot.

By the third day, even licking soot from the pot required a knife.

Lu Jing was also hungry.

In the past three days, he only drank a few mouthfuls of snow water, and he also dug out half a frozen, hardened dry biscuit from the cracks in the rotten armor on the battlefield, broke it into pieces and gave it to Skinny Monkey, Shen Qingqiu and the few Silver Wolf Guards in the tent who were about to collapse to keep them alive.

Those twenty catties of grain cannot be touched for the time being; they are the last fuse on the powder keg.

Ji Ruxue had nowhere to go.

Outside the Eighth Battalion were the swords of the supervising team, and behind them were Zhao He's personal guards.

The dilapidated grass and mud in the tent became the only place where she, the eldest princess of the Great Yan, could breathe.

Four remnants of the Silver Wolf Guard took turns guarding her.

The next night, the head guard, with red eyes, asked Lu Jing for more grain.

Lu Jing only replied with one sentence.

"If you want your prince to be eaten by six hundred starving lunatics, then break the lock now."

The captain of the guards tried to swing his sword several times, but in the end he retreated.

At noon on the third day, a biting north wind was blowing.

On the muddy drill ground of the Eighth Battalion, the cursing and swearing during drills could no longer be heard.

Hundreds of soldiers lay sprawled haphazardly against the wall, sheltered from the wind.

Some people used nicked, blunt knives to scrape the elm wood stakes used as barricades, swallowing the wood shavings mixed with snow water.

If he couldn't swallow, he would pound his chest with his fists until he gagged repeatedly, vomiting only acidic water with blood streaks.

Further away, beside a mass grave, several pairs of eyes glowing green were staring at a corpse that had frozen to death the night before.

If they weren't afraid of the plague on the corpse, those people would have pounced on it and started gnawing on it long ago.

Inside Lu Jing's tent.

The skinny monkey lay sprawled on a pile of rotten grass, its belly so sunken it almost touched its spine.

"Brother Lu..."

The skinny monkey's voice was as soft as a mosquito's hum.

"I just saw my great-grandmother. She was holding a bowl of braised pork and waving at me from the Bridge of Helplessness."

Lu Jing sat on a bench with a missing leg, holding a fine steel saber in his hand, slowly wiping the blade with an oil-stained rag.

"Then please give my regards to my great-grandmother, and also ask her if she put star anise in the braised pork."

The skinny monkey rolled his eyes, too exhausted even to sigh.

In a corner of the tent, Shen Qingqiu knelt on the ground.

Her once beautiful face had become emaciated from extreme hunger, and her lips were cracked and bleeding.

She couldn't control her gaze; every three breaths, she would glance at the broken wooden box under Lu Jing's buttocks.

A rusty iron padlock hung on the box.

Inside was twenty catties of fine grain that had been extorted from Ji Ruxue's four guards three days ago.

For three days, Lu Jing didn't touch a single bite or share a single bite.

Shen Qingqiu felt acid churning in her stomach, and the cramps were so painful that she couldn't straighten up.

Ji Ruxue, who was leaning against a wooden pillar nearby, was in an even worse situation.

The dignified Princess of the Great Yan Dynasty had never suffered such precipitous hunger.

Her tattered, bright red palace dress had long lost its luster. She covered her flat stomach with both hands, and a fine layer of cold sweat covered her forehead.

Even that haughty arrogance vanished without a trace, leaving only a stubborn gritted teeth and a desperate attempt to hold on.

Her gaze had just fallen on the wooden box when she bumped right into Shen Qingqiu.

The two of them paused at the same time.

Ji Ruxue immediately looked away, forcibly straightening her back, as if the person who had been staring at the grain box just now was not her at all.

But the next moment, her stomach gave a soft, disobedient growl.

The camp was eerily quiet.

The skinny monkey's eyes twitched; he wanted to laugh, but he simply didn't have the strength to.

"Lu Jing..."

Ji Ruxue finally couldn't hold back any longer, her voice trembling.

"You have food in your box, why aren't you eating it? Are you going to take this food to your grave?"

Lu Jing stopped wiping the knife, and the blade reflected a cold glint in the dim light.

"Big sister, do you think you're ordering food in the imperial kitchen?"

He patted the wooden box beneath him with the flat of his knife.

"Twenty catties of roasted wheat sounds like a lot. But there are six or seven hundred starving ghosts outside."

"If we dare to open this box today and give you a bite, within half an incense stick's time, that group of people outside will be able to smell it and rush in."

"At that time, let alone food, even your delicate skin and tender flesh will be chopped up and boiled into soup."

Ji Ruxue was speechless and turned pale.

Shen Qingqiu lowered her eyes, her fingers twisting together.

She got it.

These twenty catties of grain are for detonation.

Lu Jing is waiting.

When the soldiers' camp was starving to the point of no return, when someone personally handed him a torch.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!"

Suddenly, three deafening gong sounds rang out from the center of the drill ground.

Hundreds of soldiers, sprawled on the ground, struggled to lift their heads, their bloodshot eyes all turning toward the source of the sound.

A team of fully armed supervising soldiers pushed aside the barricades and strode into the training ground of the Eighth Battalion.

The leader of the team was carrying a wooden sign in one hand and a hammer in the other.

The armored soldiers held their spears level, the tips aimed at the soldiers around them who were swaying as they stood up.

Lu Jing struggled to support himself with his hands, picked up his saber, and walked to the entrance of the tent.

The skinny monkey scrambled over and peered out from the door frame.

"The food's been delivered? Did the commander's camp take pity and send food here?"

The team walked to the wooden post in the center of the drill ground, which was used to tie up deserters, and slammed the wooden sign in their hands onto the post.

"Bang! Bang!"

With two hammer blows, the wooden sign was firmly nailed in place.

Hundreds of soldiers, like zombies attracted by the smell of blood, surrounded it.

The captain took two steps back, placed his hand on the horizontal sword at his waist, and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"By order of the commander-in-chief's staff!"

"The northern barbarian cavalry are rampant, harassing our supply lines for days. The transport camp has suffered heavy losses, and the army's food reserves are critically low!"

"Effective immediately, all battalions' rations will be halved. The Eighth Battalion, due to severe battle losses, will temporarily retreat to the second line for rest and recuperation. Within three days, the Eighth Battalion must find its own rations and is not allowed to leave the camp without authorization. Those who disobey will be treated as mutineers and executed on the spot!"

As soon as the squad leader finished speaking, the entire Eighth Battalion fell into a deathly silence.

After the deathly silence comes a chilling despair.

"fart!"

A blind old soldier let out a mournful howl, and the chipped machete in his hand clattered into the muddy water.

"I fought at Yanmen Pass for ten years, and I've never heard of those northern barbarians' horses managing to bypass the natural barrier and raid the supply lines!"

"Gu Changfeng is trying to starve us to death!"

The crowd erupted in uproar.

Desperate curses, cries, and the sounds of clashing weapons mingled together.

Several hungry young men even rushed forward two steps, trying to snatch the dry food bags from the waist of the supervising team members.

"Whoosh!"

The soldiers of the commanding team drew their swords in unison, and the spearmen in the front row thrust forward with a fierce thrust.

The soldier at the very front had a gaping hole punched in his thigh and fell into a pool of blood, screaming in agony.

"Back off! All of you, back off!"

The team leader roared sternly.

"This is a military order! Anyone who dares to cause trouble, I'll send them on their way right now!"