After reading the letter, Qiu Wu immediately returned it with both hands to Zhao Ming, then solemnly acknowledged the order.

Zhao Ming had the two go prepare.

Meanwhile, Zhao Hanzhang, separated from them by a city, returned to camp radiating cold fury. She tossed down her spear and immediately headed to the wounded soldiers’ camp.

Wounded soldiers were continuously being carried back, mainly injured by stones, arrows, and burning oil…

At the entrance, military physicians were triaging the wounded, dividing them by severity and urgency, having people carry them to various areas for treatment.

In this division of Zhao’s army that Zhao Hanzhang led, there were only fifteen military physicians and currently eighty-six medical attendants, mostly women.

They were strong, their movements practiced. As soon as wounded arrived, they stanched bleeding when needed, amputated when necessary, extracted arrows as required.

While walking, Zhao Hanzhang rolled up her sleeves and asked the chief physician who hurried over: “Are medicinal supplies still sufficient?”

“Still sufficient. Luoyang just sent a batch of medicines. But we’re short-handed. Governor, if we attack the city again tomorrow, the wounded will likely increase.”

Zhao Hanzhang pondered briefly: “I’ll have Tinghan find you more people.”

The chief physician acknowledged.

Zhao Hanzhang waved him off to his work. Having rolled up her sleeves, she went to help. Both she and Fu Tinghan had learned battlefield first aid from the military physicians. In fact, the current scale of military medical treatment was based on their years of management and training.

Unfortunately, specialists like physicians were still rare. After three years of training, they currently had just over a hundred military physicians. However, many were currently in training, and with medical attendants helping, treatment and care for the wounded was much better than before.

But in Zhao Hanzhang’s view, this was far from enough.

She remained in the wounded soldiers’ camp until evening. Once the wounded were basically treated and everyone settled, she left covered in blood.

The military commanders had already made arrangements and were waiting in the main tent.

Zhao Hanzhang didn’t change clothes, only wiped her hands, and asked: “Any news from various places?”

Commander Zhao Ze said: “Governor, we’ve lost contact with both Meng County and Ningling, but judging by sounds, the general offensive has begun. From Sui County and Wuping directions, attacks are ongoing. From Xiayi County’s direction, there are signs of troops about eighty li away.”

Fu Tinghan handed over a sheet of paper: “Just received—three days ago, Shi Lei quietly split off a large force from Xiayi County. From their movement, they’re heading toward Ji Province.”

Zhao Hanzhang’s eyes brightened: “How many?”

“The scouts can’t determine yet. They bypassed cities we’ve already recaptured, circling through western Yan Province into Qing Province before rushing toward Ji Province. They swept away all traces along the route.”

Zhao Hanzhang said: “From this, Shi Lei doesn’t have many left at Xiayi. Now with Meng County and Ningling under heavy attack, and us having recaptured so much lost territory, he’ll very likely retreat to Yan Province to preserve his strength.”

Zhao Hanzhang tapped the table: “Shi Lei will definitely rescue Zhi Xiong and Taobao. He should abandon Xiayi to support Meng County and Ningling. Chen Yi.”

A bearded man immediately stepped forward and bowed: “This subordinate is here.”

“Tomorrow, take two teams to guard the road from Xiayi. Once you discover enemy activity, report immediately!”

“Yes!”

Zhao Hanzhang continued: “Zhao Ze, Wu Liang.”

“This subordinate is here.”

“Tomorrow continue the fierce assault. Within three days, we must take Meng County!”

“Yes!”

After they withdrew, Zhao Hanzhang asked Fu Tinghan: “How much explosive can we make with current materials?”

Fu Tinghan replied: “Ten pounds.”

Zhao Hanzhang’s brows furrowed tightly.

Fu Tinghan looked at her furrowed brow: “Tomorrow I’ll take people out to search for saltpeter and sulfur.”

He continued: “The army has equipment. As long as we can find them, even if crude, I can refine them.”

Zhao Hanzhang considered briefly and nodded: “Take plenty of people.”

Fu Tinghan acknowledged.

Because of the fighting, not even ordinary villagers could be found nearby. Fu Tinghan led his men far away before finally finding several abandoned elderly in a village.

The entire village was empty and desolate, with only five elderly people huddled together in one house.

Actually, they weren’t that old—one was even just thirty-nine, but his hair was graying, his back hunched, his face covered in wrinkles from hardship. All five were barefoot, barely clothed.

Seeing Fu Tinghan on his tall horse, they immediately hid inside, trembling and not daring to come out.

Only after Fu’an called out several times, saying they were Zhao’s army, did the elderly tentatively emerge. Their clouded eyes swept over the soldiers’ faces before settling on Fu Tinghan.

Seeing his gentle, handsome, noble bearing, they bowed even lower. As soon as they crossed the threshold, they knelt, voices trembling: “All the able-bodied in the village were captured by the barbarians or fled. There are no more strong men in the village, and no grain either.”

Fu Tinghan stepped forward to help them up, taking the grain bag Fu’an handed him and pressing it into their hands: “We’re not here to conscript soldiers or requisition grain. Zhao’s army is recapturing Meng County. If we’re fortunate enough to have your help, this battle might end sooner, and those who fled can return sooner.”

The elderly exchanged glances and asked hesitantly: “How can we help the general?”

“Do you need human shields?” One elder touched the grain bag just received and gritted his teeth: “That’s not impossible, but this little grain isn’t enough. We can’t eat our fill. At least give us two more pounds of grain, so we can eat our fill before going.”

With this, the other elders immediately nodded: “Right, even if we die, we want to die with full bellies!”

Human shields meant driving civilians and prisoners ahead as shields during sieges, attracting arrows from the walls so the army behind could advance.

Shi Lei and Liu Cong loved driving Han people and prisoners as human shields. Several cities were captured this way, with Han people suffering devastating casualties.

Fu Tinghan had never encountered this, but just hearing about it let him imagine such horror. His heart trembled as he shook his head: “Not human shields, but Zhao’s army needs to find certain things. We’re unfamiliar with this area, so we wanted to ask you elders.”

Fu Tinghan described sulfur and saltpeter: “…has a particularly foul smell, or are there hot springs nearby?”

Fu Tinghan paused: “Or do you know of any latrines in your village or anywhere else—especially old, especially foul ones?”

If they couldn’t find saltpeter, they’d have to try toilets.

Finally, the five elders led Fu Tinghan to a latrine at the village edge. An intense stench assaulted them, and Fu Tinghan couldn’t help covering his nose and mouth.

The elders said: “This is where our village collects night soil and piles compost.”

Fu’an, covering his nose, asked incredulously: “Your village collects night soil together?”

Fine people were so troublesome—night soil was night soil, yet they called it golden water.

But the elders didn’t say this aloud. Instead: “This was something your Zhao’s army had us do. They said Governor Zhao had a new composting method—quick and effective. And it really was quick and good. Those two years, our fields’ harvests increased by one-tenth.”

“Alas, good times don’t last. Who knew the barbarians would attack again, capturing our county seat. Two years of savings gone just like that. We must have committed great sins in our past lives to be born into this chaotic age.”

Everyone found a few wooden shovels in the village. Hoes and such were unthinkable—people had taken them for protection when fleeing.

Only one elder’s home had a chipped iron hoe.

Fu Tinghan wrapped cloth around his nose and mouth and joined the soldiers in digging soil.

After Fu Tinghan produced several dried biscuits, the five elders were also willing to help shovel earth.

They worked for most of the day, shoveling out all the earth soaked by night soil, filling sacks and piling them on carts for soldiers to escort back.

The five elders had already gnawed their biscuits, not giving Fu Tinghan a chance to renege.

Fu Tinghan had no intention of reneging. Seeing they truly had nothing to eat, he even shared half his dried rations with them.

The elders accepted, fell silent briefly, then asked: “Are you really Zhao’s army?”

Fu Tinghan raised an eyebrow—after all this, they still didn’t believe him?

Fu Tinghan thought for a moment and had Fu’an bring out the Zhao Family Army banner they carried.

The elders couldn’t read, but they’d seen Zhao’s army banners and recognized the pattern.

They traced the character “Zhao,” confirming it matched what they’d seen before. Their eyes reddened as they immediately knelt before Fu Tinghan: “General, once you find those two things you mentioned, will our villagers all be able to return?”

Fu Tinghan helped them up, pondered briefly: “If they’re all still alive, they should want to return to their homeland. If no one returns, after Meng County is recaptured, new people will move into this village. You’ll have new neighbors.”

The elders’ eyes filled with tears as they nodded: “Having people is good, having people is good.”

Five people, five elders—it was truly lonely. Every day they counted days, their every breath smelling of decay, never knowing who would be the last to leave, whether they’d rot in their homes unknown to anyone.

So dying first might not mean suffering, and living longest might not mean happiness.

All five were born and raised here, most familiar with this area. They thought hard and actually found a place: “There’s a place very far from here called South Mountain. Oh my, it’s different from here—several mountains connected together. In the mountains there’s that hot spring you mentioned—the smell isn’t pleasant, quite pungent.”

“Right, the stones there explode. Old Guan from the neighboring village—he was injured in the eye by an exploding stone, went blind in one eye, and died young.”

Fu Tinghan was delighted and asked: “How far is South Mountain from here?”

“Walking takes a day and night, then another half day,” the elder said. “That was when I was young—nearly twenty years ago. My legs aren’t what they were. It might take two full days now.”

He said somewhat proudly: “I went to repair the county magistrate’s compound. I earned eighty coins! Used those eighty coins to marry your sister-in-law, heh heh heh…”

Fu Tinghan smiled and asked: “Does the elder still know the way?”

“Know it, know it. The mountains are small around here. Get the direction right and you’ll find it easily.”

Fu Tinghan glanced at the sky. Thinking Shi Lei might counterattack from Xiayi any time, he couldn’t wait until dawn. He immediately stood: “We leave now. We have carts and horses. Traveling hard through the night, we should reach the place by sunset tomorrow.”

With sulfur, and refining saltpeter from the earth they’d just collected, plus some other materials, he could make explosives.

The five elders didn’t hesitate—all wanted to go. Even though only one guide was needed, they wouldn’t separate. Their reasoning was sound too: they were still thinking, and what if they remembered where to find saltpeter along the way?

Fu Tinghan had brought three carts. One returned, leaving two. He rode horseback himself, giving his cart to the elders, which wasn’t difficult.

He wasn’t someone who easily refused people anyway.

The group proceeded by torchlight, only stopping to rest in the latter half of night. At first light they resumed their hurried journey.

The soldiers ran alongside and behind the carts.

The elders leaned out the windows looking back, sighing: “This is faster than when we went to repair that compound.”

“Of course—these are soldiers, Zhao’s army at that. How could it be the same?”

When Fu Tinghan finally found the place on the second day, Zhao Hanzhang’s main army had also finally breached Meng County, seizing one city tower. But the Shi army hadn’t retreated—they still occupied most of the city. However, with night falling, both sides temporarily ceased fighting.

Tonight they wouldn’t fight, but Zhao Hanzhang grew even busier. Today’s fierce assault caused massive casualties. The camp was brightly lit everywhere, filled with soldiers’ agonized cries.

There was also information being compiled from inside the city—what most burned Zhao Hanzhang’s heart was the situation in civilian homes they’d just searched and inspected.

Meng County was under Yu Province’s jurisdiction. Zhao Hanzhang had established schools here, charity halls, textile workshops…

Though the people’s loyalty couldn’t compare with Chen County or Xiping, it wasn’t low either. So upon entering the city, she wanted to find people to understand the situation inside. But Zhao’s army only found eighty-some people searching the occupied area, with over twenty emerging from cellars on their own.

Zhao Ze reported with lowered head: “They say when Shi’s army stormed Meng County, all the able-bodied in the city manned the walls. Casualties were severe.”

“After Meng County was breached, Shi’s army massacred the city, killing over six thousand. Many people escaped through other gates. Those remaining were mostly old, weak, women and children.” Zhao Ze’s voice grew quieter: “Because we captured over a dozen cities, with city people opening gates in several, Zhi Xiong feared Meng County’s people would do the same, so he… he allowed Shi’s army to massacre freely. Now barely one in ten remains in the city. Apart from Shi’s army, few living people are left.”

Zhao Hanzhang clenched her fists: “What about the teachers and students from the school?”

“Half died defending Meng County. The rest all died when the city was breached.” Zhao Ze paused: “The children from the charity hall survived many at the time, but they were all used as military provisions. How many remain alive now is unknown.”

Zhao Hanzhang’s heart constricted. She pounded the table hard, suppressing her fury to ask: “Didn’t I say that if the city couldn’t be held, evacuate the people first—the workshops’ workers, the charity hall and school? How did Xun Xiu defend this city?”

The commanders all lowered their heads, not daring to respond.

Zhao Hanzhang took a deep breath, suppressing her rage, and said grimly: “Settle the people we found properly. We know Meng County well. Tomorrow we may have street fighting, and the enemy may still have reinforcements, so we must be careful outside the city too—can’t let them surround us.”

She asked: “Any news from Sui County?”

Ji Shuyan, responsible for this, said: “No.”

Zhao Hanzhang frowned and told him: “Find a way to contact them. Give them one day. If they still can’t reach Meng County’s county seat, they can all go home and farm!”

She’d breached such a solid city tower—what were they still dawdling over there?

—