Governing the country, enriching the people, an unparalleled imperial tutor

Zhao Lingxi started to have a fever in the middle of the night.

Lin Yanzhou replied to Lin Xiaoya: Arrived safely, don't worry. He put down his phone, worried that looking at it too much would drain the battery and he didn't know if it would last until he returned to the modern world. He lay down on the side of the bed, closed his eyes to rest, and kept listening to the breathing sounds on the bed. Starting from the second watch of the night, the breathing became rapid, with a short and shallow rhythm, as if something in the chest was tightening.

He got up and lit a new oil lamp, adjusting the flame to be brighter. Ancient people were more accustomed to the brightness of oil lamps; electric lights were more stimulating and wouldn't allow Zhao Lingxi to rest. He reached out and touched her forehead. It was burning hot, even hotter than when she had just fainted; he could feel the scorching heat emanating from her skin even through half an inch. No need for a thermometer; it seemed the infection was spreading.

Lin Yanzhou turned around and took out the box of broad-spectrum antibiotics from his travel bag. He pressed out a capsule from the aluminum foil plate and then found a clean ceramic bowl and a small spoonful of honey from the military doctor. He peeled off the capsule shell, poured the white powder inside into the bowl, added warm water, stirred it, and then added a spoonful of honey and mixed it well.

Zhao Lingxi's eyes were half-open, her consciousness oscillating between lucidity and confusion. Her lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to ask something, but she didn't have the strength to utter a complete sentence.

"Drink your medicine." Lin Yanzhou lifted the back of her head and held the rim of the ceramic bowl to her lips. "Swallow it."

As the medicine slowly flowed down her tongue, her brow furrowed slightly—the powder dissolved in warm water, carrying a bitter taste she had never experienced before, which even honey couldn't mask.

"Sir, this tastes awful," she said in a hoarse voice.

"You have to drink it even if it tastes bad." Lin Yanzhou gently placed her back on the pillow. "Drink it once a day for three days. You can only be considered stable if you don't have a fever after three days."

Zhao Lingxi looked at him without speaking. The light from the oil lamp fell on her pale face, illuminating the weakness in her eyes, but her gaze was clear, as if she were using her last bit of strength to remember something.

"You've brought so many strange things," she said, her voice broken, "Who are you? Are you really a deity descended from heaven?"

"Someone who happens to know how to heal." Lin Yanzhou put the ceramic bowl back on the table. "Even if it's a god, it's a god protecting you. Don't overthink it, go to sleep."

She stared at him for a few moments, but ultimately lacked the strength to ask any more questions. She closed her eyes, and her breathing gradually calmed down. Lin Yanzhou sat beside her, listening for about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, and only after confirming that her breathing rhythm was returning from rapid to even did he breathe a sigh of relief.

The antibiotics worked, and the condition did not worsen.

As dawn broke, Lin Yanzhou rose and stepped out of his tent. The northern morning was bitterly cold, and his breath condensed into white mist in front of him. The army camp was already bustling with activity; the cooks were setting up pots over the campfire to boil porridge, and several sentries were returning from their shifts at the city wall, their armor covered with a fine layer of frost.

Zhao Lingxi's two personal guards changed shifts. The two new guards didn't recognize Lin Yanzhou, but when they saw him walk out of the princess's tent and noticed his attire, which was out of place in the court, they were taken aback at first. Then they quickly exchanged a glance and immediately knelt on one knee: "Grand Preceptor!"

"Get up," Lin Yanzhou said. "Take me to the central command tent—your staff officers, deputy generals, and all those in charge of military operations, call them to the central command tent."

"yes!"

In less than a quarter of an hour, the central command tent was filled with people. The highest-ranking general remaining in Jizhou City was Zhou Chongyuan, the deputy commander of the Imperial Guards. He was around forty years old, with dark skin and an old scar on his forehead. He was a trusted confidant personally promoted by Zhao Lingxi from the Imperial Guards. Sitting next to him were two captains from the scout battalion, a military advisor in charge of supply and logistics, and a staff officer in a gray robe surnamed Lu, who looked like a civil official.

Lin Yanzhou sat down in the main seat and got straight to the point: "Recount the enemy situation from beginning to end, the more detailed the better."

Zhou Chongyuan nodded, stood up, and walked to the map hanging in the tent. It was a map stretched from cowhide to a wooden frame, with ink lines outlining the contours of mountains and rivers. On the north side, a large number of arrows were marked with cinnabar, densely packed, stretching from north of Yanmen Pass all the way to the city of Jizhou.

"Grand Preceptor, please look," Zhou Chongyuan pointed with his thick knuckles to an area on the northern edge of the map. "This is the pastureland of the various Northern Di tribes, originally belonging to more than a dozen tribes, each governing itself and not subordinate to one another. Three months ago, Zhang Lin secretly sent his trusted confidants out of the pass, carrying large quantities of gold, silver, silk, ironware, salt, and tea, to bribe the tribal leaders one by one. His most ingenious move was—he promised the eldest sons of the three Northern Di Khans the title of 'King of the Northern Border of Xuan Shuo,' promising that after the deed was done, each of the three tribes would receive a piece of land as a king."

How many troops did the three Khans have?

"The three tribes together have about 200,000 combat-ready troops. Add to that the 50,000 private soldiers that Zhang Lin has secretly raised outside the pass over the years, as well as the bandits and surrendered soldiers recruited along the way, and the total is said to be 300,000." Zhou Chongyuan moved his hand from the north to the southeast. "But the Northern Barbarians are not a monolithic entity. Among the three Khans, Ashina Gule, the Khan of the Left, is greedy and most easily bribed; Huyan Lie, the Khan of the Central, has a violent temper, but his troops are the most elite; Yuwen Tuo, the Khan of the Right, is old and was coerced by the other two tribes, so he may not really want to fight."

Lin Yanzhou stared at the map for a while, then frowned, an idea forming in his mind: "What about the northeast?"

Zhou Chongyuan pointed to an area marked with dense forests and mountains on the right side of the map: "The Jurchen tribe is here. They have been fighting with the Northern Di for many years, and their grudges run deep. In the past five years, there have been no fewer than twenty battles, large and small, with victories and defeats on both sides. Xuan Shuo has never taken the initiative to invade the Jurchen, while the Northern Di have been blocking their trade routes and plundering their horses for many years. The Jurchen hate the Northern Di even more than they hate us."

"In other words, the Jurchens and the Northern Di were mortal enemies."

"They are sworn enemies." Zhou Chongyuan said, "The most recent conflict was last winter when the left wing of the Northern Barbarians raided a Jurchen winter camp, taking away more than 3,000 horses and more than 200 women. The Jurchen Khan, Wanyan Zongbi, was so angry that he broke his sword and vowed to avenge this."

Lin Yanzhou nodded, his gaze slowly moving along the mountain range on the map. He tapped his finger twice lightly behind the Northern Di Mu territory, then withdrew it.

"What about Zhang Lin?"

"Zhang Lin personally led the central army and stationed it thirty miles outside Pingyang City, less than ten miles away from the camp of the three Khans, forming a mutually supporting defensive position," Zhou Chongyuan said. "In front of his central army tent hung a large banner with the four characters 'By the Mandate of Heaven, Punish the Rebels' written on it, and he called himself the 'Regent.' Moreover, he also declared in front of the battle that if he did not abdicate within ten days, he would join forces with the Jurchens to attack from both sides, leaving Xuan Shuo with troops in the north and south, and besieged on both sides."

"To contact the Jurchens?" Lin Yanzhou asked.