Hot flashes

The days slipped by amidst Zhou Heng's "categorization compulsion" and constant anxiety.

Like a cautious worker ant, within the massive and clumsy machine of the supply train, he instinctively untangled the tangled mess before him, only within the reach of his own antennae.

However, fate seems to always play tricks on cautious people.

That day, Old Wu was summoned for questioning by his superiors, and when he returned, his expression was somewhat strange.

He tossed Zhou Heng a brand-new ledger, its ink barely dry, and said in a complicated tone, "Stop with those strips of cloth. Look at this, and get it sorted out for me before dark."

Zhou Heng unfolded the document and saw a summary record of the arrows, armor and weapons lost, and extra provisions consumed by the Northern Liang army and the Qi King's forces in the east during the "friction" on the border over the past three months.

Unlike the old accounts that could be sorted out slowly, this was fresh and hot "battle damage," with more complicated items, larger numbers, and various battalions reporting in different formats and at different times, making it a complete mess.

Clearly, this is data that the higher-ups urgently need to clarify, which may relate to compensation, replenishment, or even some kind of assessment of the situation on the front lines.

The pressure instantly fell on Zhou Heng.

He dared not delay and immediately threw himself into it. But the chaos was beyond his imagination, and his "color-coding method" proved to be woefully inadequate. He needed a faster way to organize things.

In his anxiety, he stared at the dense, disorganized records, and a thought that he had forcibly suppressed for a long time suddenly popped up uncontrollably—a form.

If we rearrange this data according to the categories of "time", "consumables", "camp", and "general reason"...

The thought startled even himself.

This is outrageous! This is no longer just secretly tying a strip of cloth; this is changing the form of recording! Once discovered and questioned, he will be unable to explain where this clear, almost "eerie" order comes from.

Cold sweat trickled down his forehead. He looked at the messy tent and recalled the chilling words from his dream: "Failure means annihilation."

If he can't even handle this little problem right now, and can't even survive in the supply train, how can he talk about getting close to Xiao Jue, completing the mission, and going home?

He took a deep breath and, like a thief, found several large blank bamboo slips and a charcoal pencil.

He dared not draw standard horizontal or vertical lines, as that would be too conspicuous. He simply relied on his intuition to roughly divide the bamboo slips into several areas, and then began to extract and organize the information from the original accounts bit by bit.

"On a certain day of a certain month, the Third Battalion of the Left Army consumed two hundred arrows... Record this under 'Time', in the Third Battalion of the Left Army column, next to the category of arrows."

"In the same month, the vanguard scout team lost five sets of leather armor... Record this under 'Time', in the scout team column, next to the armor category."

This was a clumsy method, extremely time-consuming and straining on the eyes. By the end of the afternoon, he was dizzy, his wrists ached, and his fingers were blackened by charcoal powder.

But he gritted his teeth and re-translated the most important, chaotic core data in his own way.

As dusk fell, when Old Wu strolled back, several bamboo slips covered with densely written characters were spread out in front of Zhou Heng, next to which was a roll of primitive, chaotic account books.

His face was pale, and he pointed to the things he had compiled, his voice hoarse: "Old Wu, do you see... is this a little... clearer? We can see roughly what each battalion used each month..."

Old Wu squinted his old eyes and leaned closer to take a look.

At first, he was a little unaccustomed to it, but when he looked at Zhou Heng's simple "division", he could actually find the approximate location of the information that used to require searching for a long time, and the consumption comparison of different camps also became vaguely clear.

Although still rough, it's a world of difference compared to the previous mess.

Old Wu stared at it for a long time, so long that Zhou Heng's heart was about to jump out of his throat.

In the end, Old Wu didn't ask anything. He just gave Zhou Heng a deep look.

He carefully put away the bamboo slips that Zhou Heng had sorted out, rolled them up together with the original account books, and said in a low voice, "That's enough for today. You... rest now."

Zhou Heng slumped to the ground, utterly exhausted. He didn't know how Old Wu would report this to his superiors, and he dared not imagine what kind of reaction it would cause.

Those few simple bamboo slips with "zoning and organization" were not presented directly to Xiao Jue's desk.

They passed through several hands, including Old Wu, the baggage officer, and the logistics officer. Each time they passed through, they were examined and discussed.

There was some surprise, but this was merely a "shortcut" in organizing accounts, and it was insignificant in the face of real military and national affairs.

However, they are like a perfectly fitting puzzle piece, embedded in a predicament that Xiao Jue is currently facing.

Inside the study, the lamplight flickered. Xiao Jue listened to the debate among his subordinates about whether to adjust the garrison and supply ratios of several camps on the eastern front.

Supporters argue that the current deployment is wasteful, while opponents believe it's a complex undertaking with far-reaching consequences and shouldn't be undertaken without clear data. The two sides remain deadlocked, relying mostly on vague impressions and fragmented reports.

Just as the debate reached a stalemate, the military advisor in charge of logistics seemed to remember something and cautiously spoke up: "My lord, regarding the expenditures of each battalion... the supply corps recently compiled a list of losses from the border conflicts over the past three months. Although the methods were crude, it appears that... the differences in expenditures among the battalions are more varied than expected. Perhaps... this could be used as a reference?"

Xiao Jue glanced at him: "Where are the account books?"

The soldier quickly presented him with the summary scroll containing Zhou Heng's "district notes," which had already been transferred to him.

Xiao Jue unfolded the document and frowned slightly upon seeing the familiar, chaotic original records.

But when he turned to the back and saw the bamboo slips with charcoal writing and sections that, though childish, were much clearer, his gaze paused.

He quickly grasped the key point: this method, though crude, forcibly made a horizontal comparison of the messy information.

Which camp is experiencing abnormal consumption, and which type of supplies is being used up the fastest—while not precisely, the trends are clear. This is precisely the most direct evidence of "difference" that the current stalemate lacks.

"Who created this method?" Xiao Jue asked calmly.

The soldier bowed his head and said, "He's a newly transferred clerk from the supply corps named Zhou Heng. According to his superior, this soldier... seems to have some clumsy cleverness when it comes to organizing accounts."

Zhou Heng.