Chapter 18: Leading the Charge

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Wu Fei (Yuan Chang) and Wu Hengyu met. This was the first time since Xuan Chong’s transmigration that he encountered this original body, whose “memories” before soul possession were absent from his mind, existing only as visual data provided by the system. After some research, Xuan Chong confirmed that “he” and this cousin had been partners in mischief since childhood—raising beams, chasing dogs, setting off fireworks, and playing with wooden swords together.

Now, Wu Fei found himself nervously meeting Wu Hengyu’s steady, sharp gaze.

After a long moment of staring at each other, Wu Hengyu approached like a tiger descending the mountain, while Wu Fei took a defensive stance, like an antelope ready to dodge. However, Wu Fei’s caution was futile; he was knocked down with a single slap.

Wu Hengyu’s greeting was a seemingly light punch to Wu Fei’s shoulder, which pierced through Wu Fei’s guard. Before completely toppling him, the force softened as he retracted his fist.

Wu Fei hastily stepped back, trying to dispel the lingering power. But despite Wu Hengyu’s fist being withdrawn, the force lingered heavily on Wu Fei’s shoulder for quite some time.

Xuan Chong was baffled—how could this force remain on his body? What physical law governed this phenomenon?

The system responded curtly, “This system is ‘History Department.’ Please ask the ‘Physics Teacher’ about such matters. My database contains only history. Do not ask unrelated questions.”

The system had mocked Xuan Chong’s curious nature more than once with remarks like, “You had the sports teacher for math,” or “Your physics was taught by the history teacher.” Apparently, such insults still existed even in the fortieth century.

Xuan Chong snorted, “Fine, if you won’t teach, then I won’t ask!”

Still, he didn’t obsess over it. He inquired because he wanted to harness this phenomenon, incorporating it into the aura patterns of his armor. According to the tadpole-script record system given by his third aunt, this “lingering force” was documented. If understood, it could be utilized—an enticing prospect.

For now, though, it was useless.

Wu Hengyu spoke critically: “Que’er, you command a whole army now, but your vigor is still less than a cook’s.”

Wu Fei retorted immediately: “You can’t compare. Up the mountain, you eat well and sleep soundly! Tsk tsk, you came down alone, why didn’t you bring back a celestial bride?”

Wu Hengyu’s eyes darkened.

But Wu Fei—no, Xuan Chong—held fast to his stubbornness. Casting wary glances at the fist the size of a sandbag, his feet moved in a dance of feints, ready to dash at the next strike. The principle was: when the enemy retreats, advance; when they camp, harass.

Wu Fei thought: “At home, with elders watching, you wouldn’t dare hit me.”

Wu Hengyu lunged before Wu Fei could react, slinging an arm around his cousin’s shoulder and locking him in a bear hug, gripping his shoulder tightly. He smiled warmly at Wu Fei’s grimace of pain and said, “Come, Father Commander is waiting for you. Let’s go inside and talk.”

Wu Hengyu felt this Wu Fei was a bit of a “monkey king without a tiger in the mountain,” but this childhood troublemaker who used to follow him into mischief would behave after a good thrashing. As he clenched his fist with a creaking sound, his cousin’s expression changed to one of compliance and respect.

There was no real enmity between Wu Fei and Wu Hengyu; their relationship was quite good.

Between blood-related men, bickering and throwing punches were trivial. True conflict was the kind of forced smiles in front, backstabbing and scheming behind.

As long as clan disputes were settled face-to-face, sharing meals under one roof, exchanging barbs without grudges, no lasting hatred remained. The lethal feuds were often instigated from behind the scenes. Neither Wu Fei nor Wu Hengyu had women in the household stirring up trouble yet.

In the Wu family ancestral hall, Wu Hanluan appeared not in armor but in plain cloth.

Wu Fei and Wu Hengyu did not stand rigidly like soldiers but reported respectfully to their elder as clan scions.

On the defense handover of Yongji Pass, Wu Hanluan confirmed receipt of Wu Fei’s checkpoint preparations and assured that the assigned personnel would replicate the arrangements. Wu Fei’s accounts with the merchants were to continue as well.

Wu Hanluan nodded toward the family’s account office, stating that year-end accounts still needed Wu Fei’s oversight. Wu Fei acquiesced; after all, he had proposed using merchants to gather information on regional products and populace to aid in planning the army’s supply.

The customs under Wu Fei’s control had become a cash cow supporting the Wu family’s troops.

…Secret matters required discreet discussion…

With both heirs home, the household servants busied themselves: fires lit in the kitchen, the main hall swept every three hours, and water from the three wells hauled back and forth in wooden buckets.

After the family banquet, Wu Hanluan led the two men to the library and outlined the Wu family’s current predicament. He produced the imperial edict ordering the Wu family army to redeploy to the lower reaches of the Lei River.

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“The court is preparing for a major campaign?” Wu Fei leafed through a pile of bamboo slips—intelligence collected by Wu Hanluan’s spies in various cities. While iron and grain prices had yet to show signs, horse administration was stirring.

Xuan Chong’s history textbook described that feudal regimes had limited capacity to enforce prewar economic policies; controls over grain, iron, and salt were sluggish, but horse administration responded swiftly, as the military tax officials were titled “Sima.”

Wu Hanluan unfolded a silk map, pointing out the Lei River five li east of Tianchi City, flowing through Yizhou downstream. During the previous emperor’s reign, a rebellion erupted here, quelled by a large imperial force. The court’s “Wind-Hearing Bureau” confirmed that the rebels from that time had begun reconnecting, with activity also detected in neighboring Zhuzhou.

Wu Fei nodded then paused, recalling from his memory retrieval that this rebellion was unusual.

The Lei River rebellion involved a group called the “Gonghe,” who refused to submit to the dynasty. They styled themselves the “Gonghe Army,” and when confronted by the large Yao army, they politely sent emissaries from the city. Those emissaries insisted on addressing local officials and commanders as “Sir,” demanding the abolition of all noble titles and honorifics, arguing vigorously for “equality for all.”

Of course, this “Gonghe Army” ultimately ran out of ammunition and supplies, and their ideal of equality dissolved into cannibalism amid starvation.

Wu Fei thought: “Wow, in the cold weapon era—well, there were firearms, so more like the dynasty’s stable period—they jumped straight into playing ‘Gonghe,’ politely addressing marquises and lords as ‘sir.’ Who’s the fool who traveled through time to role-play this? If they really wanted to progress, history’s steps should follow Huang Chao—‘I bloom among a hundred flowers to kill.’ After capturing cities, uprooting the noble clans as recorded in their genealogies.”

…When a student doesn’t understand, it’s time to raise their hand…

Xuan Chong asked, “System, system, what is this thing?”

The system replied, “This is an erroneous input of time-space forces by the ‘Rogue’ system into this timeline, already penalized!”

Xuan Chong was surprised—unlike usual, the system’s tone was unusually stern, like a teacher scolding a student caught in an internet café.

The system added, “No further information available. (Small print: Issue involves out-of-syllabus content.)”

Xuan Chong shivered, suspecting that some time-traveler had tried to make a grand entrance but had their cheat codes deleted midway.

Makes sense; who in the cold weapon age would pull such anachronistic stunts, likely overconfident like himself at arrival, ready to handcraft a machine gun in a month and dominate this world, hence the reckless swagger. But they were punished.

Those waving “civilization” and “Gonghe” banners failed to grasp local power structures or secure military victories to shake the old regime’s roots. Instead, they prematurely proclaimed victory by changing titles and systems like a premature emperor.

Xuan Chong (shrugging) felt sympathy but was speechless: “This is bound to blow up in their face. The system can’t bail you out.”

The time-space cheat codes could be sanctioned, so?

Xuan Chong reflected on his own three years, confident he had been “pragmatic” and “diligent,” without developing bad habits of relying entirely on the system or cheat codes. Yes! (Self-approval)

…Just as Xuan Chong was self-reflecting, another wisp of blue energy was kicked out from his body…

About twenty zhang away from Wu Fei and Wu Hengyu’s study, Xian Daoren, adviser to Wu Hanluan, should have been cultivating quietly in his residence.

Instead, he unfurled a painting depicting an elder and two youths seated around a chessboard, their expressions and board pieces shifting frame by frame. Responding to his junior sister’s request, he was attempting to persuade a stubborn individual.

Xian Daoren held a brush dipped in blue ink, touching the smallest boy’s forehead in the painting. Strangely, the thick blue color vanished immediately upon entering the artwork.

Suddenly, the boy in the painting frowned, clamping the brush tip between his brows. At that moment, a flood of ink spilled, smudging the entire painting.

Xian Daoren’s face paled as if witnessing bleeding ink. He spat blood onto the painting, then quickly tossed it into a copper basin. The pigments bled into the basin, leaving the scroll soaked and blank.

He then opened the eye on his forehead, an enormous eye with an expression unlike his own. It scanned the room, fixed on the pigments, and reabsorbed the colors.

After closing the eye, Xian Daoren exhaled deeply, opened a compass, and began spinning it repeatedly as if redialing a failed call.

…The study remained a place of secrecy…

“Yuan Chang?” Wu Hanluan called, pulling Wu Fei from his reverie.

“Ah, oh.” Wu Fei regained focus.

Wu Hanluan did not press on his distraction but asked, “By imperial order, we will dispatch troops to Zhuzhou and Yishui. You previously told me the difficulty lies in us being the guest army here.”

He spread out the silk map and handed it to Wu Fei. “Yuan Chang, explain the situation here.”

“As the guest army, we need local guides. Also, all military supplies must be ready before April. After May, Zhuzhou faces heavy rains that will expand marshlands. The bandits in the rebellion will exploit reed beds to harass our supply lines. On the Yishui side, river levels won’t flood, but currents will be swift, complicating river crossings by boat. Also…”

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Wu Fei listed ten such points before being interrupted.

Wu Hengyu asked, “How do you know so much?”

Wu Fei glanced at his elder cousin. “Merchants travel yearly, consulting almanacs for shipments. As a commander, I must quickly grasp local customs, so I deal with these money-minded traders.”

Wu Hengyu opened his mouth to mock “money-minded,” but found it pointless and swallowed the words.

Wu Hanluan said, “More calculation means more victory; less calculation means less victory; no calculation means no victory. Yuan Chang, prepare everything before deployment.”

Wu Fei opened his mouth to say something but retracted under his uncle’s unwavering gaze, silently lamenting: “Feeding, watering, and managing the sanitation of three thousand men, plus the chaos of battle—how can I handle all this?”

At the end of the study meeting,

Wu Hanluan said, “Tomorrow in camp, I will appoint generals for the three armies. What posts do you desire?”

“I volunteer to lead the vanguard!” Wu Hengyu declared.

“I will lead the rearguard,” Wu Fei replied.

They accepted their commands simultaneously and exchanged a glance, reminiscent of their youth when fighting over a chicken, only to divide it into head and tail without conflict.

The central army’s main tent was assumed to be commanded by Wu Hanluan.

Wu Hanluan looked at Wu Hengyu: “The vanguard must clear mountains, build roads, scout, and fight patrols. Are you willing?”

Wu Hengyu pledged, “I swear by the military order.”

Wu Hanluan nodded, then turned to Wu Fei with a resolute tone: “Yuan Chang, you will command the central army!”

A brief silence filled the room as Wu Fei stared dumbfounded by the sudden heavy responsibility.

After a moment, Wu Hanluan added, “You are prudent with troops. Should the vanguard falter, support Hengyu well.”

After leaving Wu Hengyu’s study, Wu Hengyu punched Wu Fei again. “Don’t hold me back.”

Wu Fei replied sourly, “I follow military orders.”

Wu Hengyu paused, wanting to say more but ultimately restrained himself, arrogantly adding, “Let’s see if you have what it takes to inherit the title ‘Lord of War.’”

At that moment, Wu Fei touched his shoulder where Wu Hengyu’s fist had struck. This time, it had been more decisive; the impact ended immediately upon contact, with no lingering force or oppressive weight. He felt much lighter than before entering the study. What once felt like the stifling heat and humidity of summer now felt dry and refreshing, free of any grime.

…After Wu Hanluan relayed orders to the family scions, other advisers were briefed…

In the inner hall, Wu Hanluan stared at the pale Xian Daoren. “Master, what is this?”

“No matter, just a miscalculation during divination,” Xian Daoren replied.

Wu Hanluan frowned. “I have some tonics to replenish qi and blood in the storeroom. Master, if you don’t mind—”

Xian Daoren quickly declined, “Thank you for your kindness. It’s a minor injury, nothing serious.”

Wu Hanluan pressed, “But I have tasks for you. How is your health?”

Xian Daoren assured, “Just give the orders.”

—He dared not touch Wu Hanluan’s remedies and quickly changed the subject to accept the commands.