Marquis Zheng’s map here was considerably more detailed than the one Zhù Ying had on hand. It bore a number of new markings, the results of the main camp’s scouts over the past few days.

From the time Zhù Qingjun returned to the field headquarters, to today, only a handful of days had passed — yet the scouts had been efficient, and Leiliao Atu was genuinely not far away.

Zhù Ying said, “Supplying beyond the border will not be straightforward.”

Young General Leng said, “There is no need to be modest on that account.”

Zhù Ying said, “It is not modesty — in the north, I can speak with some confidence. But once we go beyond the frontier, I cannot say for certain.”

Young General Leng also furrowed his brow. This was a serious problem.

Marquis Zheng looked at Zhù Qingjun for a moment, then said to Zhù Ying, “In any case, the losses cannot be greater than fighting within our own borders.”

Zhù Ying thought for a moment and said, “The seeds have only just been sown. I can only try my best.”

Marquis Zheng laughed. “That is all I need to hear!”

The officers inside the tent also offered a round of flattery. They could not say they were entirely satisfied with Zhù Ying — she managed the grain and provisions with an iron grip — but by the same token, Zhù Ying’s supplies had always been dependable and real. With a major battle imminent, weighing both sides, the officers decided that getting along well with Zhù Ying was the right course.

Zhù Ying said to Marquis Zheng, “Then I need to know how the advance will proceed — when, where, what routes, how many troops. Otherwise I cannot calculate the supply needs.”

Marquis Zheng said, “That is only natural. And you need not worry too much — I will also submit a memorial to the court regarding the grain and provisions.”

Zhù Ying said, “Compared to winter, things are much easier now. At least winter clothing is no longer needed.”

The two of them talked back and forth. Zhù Qingjun and Hu Shijie stood one on each side behind Zhù Ying, quiet and still as two pillars. While the officers enthusiastically jumped into the discussion, a few could not help stealing glances at Marquis Zheng — the old man was seated in a wheelchair, a thin brocade blanket across his knees, with Tang Shan standing behind him.

Marquis Zheng seemed unaware of their attention, and continued to lean over the map, directing with his baton: “Young General Leng, break through from the left. Young General Ye, break through from the right. Make contact with the Xida Tribe…”

Marquis Zheng’s plan was fairly straightforward — he would hold the center himself, while sending two flanking forces to encircle the enemy. At the same time, he would stir up the tribes that had rebelled against Leiliao Atu and provide them with backing.

Marquis Zheng said, “Do not get bogged down with them — only strike and inflict casualties on the enemy. The northern tribesmen have no walled cities or natural mountain strongholds to defend. Their people — that is their great fortress!”

His baton swept back and forth across the map, pointing to a mountain range. The mountains were a natural barrier, dividing the interior from the outside. The passes and flat stretches within them were the natural pathways for northern cavalry to march south. Any other approach meant an enormous detour — or climbing through mountain terrain, where defensive fortifications had been built.

Looking at this map — or going to see it in person — one immediately understood why, over thousands of years, the routes for northern cavalry marching south and for the southern forces holding them back had remained essentially fixed. It did not matter which side had the bigger fist. There was almost no technique involved at all.

And conversely, when the court’s imperial army marched north hoping to inscribe their victories on stone pillars, the routes were similarly few and similar in nature.

Zhù Ying rose, pointed to several locations on the map, and said, “What if I set up relay supply depots here?”

She knew nothing of military matters and could only consult Marquis Zheng based on her own intuition. Marquis Zheng looked at it with pleasure: “Excellent — that would make things considerably more convenient.”

Zhù Ying said, “Each relay depot will not hold too much at a time — a continuous flow to match demand. Even if there is an unexpected loss, the damage will be contained.”

Marquis Zheng expressed his agreement.

Then came the detailed arrangements for the two flanking forces — “detailed,” though not particularly precise. With the difficulties of marching, transportation, and communication in this period, once a force was split off, achieving an accurate rendezvous was extraordinarily difficult. Even if a time had been agreed upon — say, “launch the attack together at midday three days hence” — who could guarantee that one of the forces would not stumble into a gully along the way and be delayed? And in such a case, there would be no way to warn the friendly forces in time.

So Marquis Zheng’s plan was deliberately left somewhat vague, while he himself held the center and could adjust at any moment. Of course, this “at any moment” was itself fairly flexible and not perfectly timely.

Such as this plan was, Marquis Zheng still kept Zhù Ying for a full three days of discussion. Which route goes this way, which route goes that way; how many men in the first wave, how many in the second; should the vanguard carry three days of rations or five, cavalry or infantry; how should the supply chain be sustained; how should horses be rotated?

Generals Leng and Ye were the commanders of the two flanking forces, and they argued before Marquis Zheng until their faces flushed red. General Leng demanded that his vanguard be given two horses per man; General Ye demanded the same treatment, and further claimed that because the right flank’s path was reportedly more desolate than the left, he deserved even more men and horses.

Zhù Ying kept adjusting the supply figures in her head, while also thinking: I had better order some Buddhist monks and Taoist priests when I get back. War means deaths, and the dead need to be buried — that means coffins and funeral urns. On top of that, memorial rites would need to be held.

Within those three days, reports from scouts continued to come in and fill in the picture.

Among them was a message from the Xida Tribe requesting support: “Leiliao Atu, wielding the prestige of the Crown Prince, has been plundering the tribe and conscripted two hundred warhorses.”

Marquis Zheng’s expression turned grave. He said to Generals Leng and Ye, “Stop arguing. Add more troops.”

He increased the troop allocations for both of them — still under Zhù Ying’s responsibility to supply.

Zhù Qingjun listened quietly throughout, finding the whole thing very strange. A little here, a little there — it was never quite enough for a real fight. No matter how many troops were piled on top, they were just being sent to their deaths, were they not? And if the concern was about supplies, no one seemed to be saying supplies were the problem.

Out of habit, she stayed quiet and asked nothing aloud, intending to ask Zhù Ying once the discussions were finished. But very soon, Marquis Zheng and Young General Leng resolved her confusion for her.

When Young General Leng saw that the enemy was conscripting warhorses while his own side was adding troops, he immediately put forward a request to Marquis Zheng: “Then I want the same number of troops as he has!”

Marquis Zheng lifted his baton and pointed at the map, then scolded, “Look at this! Look at your sector — if I give you thirty thousand men, can you even spread them out?! Do you have any sense of what thirty thousand men look like when they are deployed in open formation? One squad of ten thousand! Once deployed, your flanks will be unable to support each other — you would be feeding them to the enemy!”

Young General Leng genuinely had no sense of scale — in ordinary times, who had occasion to command tens of thousands of men just for sport?

“But I cannot be short of men either!” Young General Leng argued forcefully. “Then give me three hundred men, to go up against three thousand northern cavalry — and we will see who ends up unable to support their flanks!”

Marquis Zheng directed Tang Shan to push his wheelchair to give Young General Leng a chase. The scene grew unusually lively for a time. Zhù Ying went forward to calm Marquis Zheng, then asked him a few questions about military strategy. Marquis Zheng said, “Military formations have no fixed form, just as water has no fixed shape. Why? Because those people can still manage to control the situation!”

He pointed at the officers in the tent and proceeded to criticize them one by one.

Zhù Ying and Zhù Qingjun studied the map together, gaining a further understanding of how troops were maneuvered.

Once a plan had been settled and the mobilization of the main forces began, Marquis Zheng finally kept Zhù Ying behind for a private conversation. Only then did Zhù Ying have the opportunity to inquire about Marquis Zheng’s health.

Marquis Zheng brushed this off: “Not dead yet!”

Zhù Ying argued with him for a few moments, urging him to take care of himself. Marquis Zheng said, “To the real matter.”

What Zhù Ying needed to do was ensure the supply lines and mobilize the civilian population. Marquis Zheng then said, “If the enemy’s forces prove overwhelming, you must also assist in conscripting local residents as soldiers.”

Zhù Ying’s heart stirred slightly. “Local residents?”

Marquis Zheng nodded: “It seems you have already thought of this. It is a measure of last resort.”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying could not avoid shouldering some additional responsibilities.

She sent Zhù Qingjun out again — this time giving her three hundred troops: besides a unit of female soldiers, she also assigned her some male soldiers. Zhù Qingjun had accomplished something significant this time, yet she had received no promotion or formal commendation.

Because the “military merit” was insufficient, and she had not been a soldier to begin with, there was no question of rewarding her in the standard way. Even if she had been a male soldier, with this level of contribution, she would first have been placed under a more senior person with more troops and would have had to accumulate enough merit before a memorial could be submitted to the court requesting official recognition.

The calculation of military merit followed precise regulations: being first through a breach, slaying an enemy commander, capturing an enemy banner, taking prisoners in number… and so on. Zhù Qingjun’s role — detecting intelligence about the Chancellor and “Crown Prince” preparing an attack nearby — was of the intelligence-gathering category.

But Marquis Zheng had taken notice of this young woman, and rewarded Zhù Qingjun with some cash and silk. Though he considered Zhù Qingjun to be capable, after careful deliberation he had still not brought up the idea of formally employing Zhù Qingjun to Zhù Ying.

The country still had people — it had not yet come to sending a young girl to the front line as a scout. That Zhù Ying liked to use women could be said to be a habit she had picked up from the tribal peoples of the south. Marquis Zheng, however, was of the old school, and was reluctant to put women to work in this manner.

Zhù Qingjun had no official appointment, but Zhù Ying gave her a brocade robe in men’s style to wear for now. Marquis Zheng heard of it and simply chuckled and let it pass.

He had far more important affairs to attend to — no sense expending energy on a young girl. For the northern tribal cavalry were also gathering!

After locating the “Prince,” Leiliao Atu and his company had continued to advance some distance further south. The “Crown Prince” had also wanted to take the opportunity to have a look at the walled cities of the southern peoples.

Leiliao Atu raised no objection, and sent men ahead along the trade routes to scout. His scouts brought back a startling piece of news: “Chancellor — the southern peoples are massing a large army!”

The “Crown Prince” and the “Prince” — both young men — were excited. Leiliao Atu was genuinely surprised: “They are marching north? Have they already finished reorganizing their forces? Has their spring plowing not yet ended?”

The “Crown Prince” asked, “What does spring plowing have to do with it?”

Leiliao Atu said, “We have so few farmers among our people that the Crown Prince does not feel the difference. The southern court is not the same — they depend entirely on farming to feed themselves. The north’s spring plowing still has a few days to run. Generally, the southern peoples do not make large military moves during spring plowing. Spring plowing, like the autumn harvest, requires enormous numbers of able-bodied men and large quantities of draft animals. Wars also require the mobilization of civilian laborers. As a rule, the southern court will give priority to completing the spring plowing and the autumn harvest first.”

The “Crown Prince” said, “Is that so? Then why are they moving now?”

Leiliao Atu frowned and said, “Perhaps they believe we assume they will not make a move during spring plowing, and that our defenses will be slack — so they are trying to catch us unprepared.”

The “Crown Prince” said, “Then we had better start preparing ourselves as well!”

The “Prince” was unconcerned and said dismissively, “These southern people — they amount to so little. They can only manage to fight the Xida Tribe.”

As he said it, the two young men exchanged a look and both laughed. The Xida Tribe was not in their favor to begin with — let them and the southern court wear each other down. It was only a pity that the old fox from the south had been quietly propping up the Xida Tribe and preventing a prolonged fight.

Leiliao Atu said, “The Xida Tribe is not a real threat. As long as the Great Khan and the Crown Prince are strong, the Xida Tribe will only whimper and fall in line. If there is plunder to be had from marching south, they would never refuse the opportunity.”

The “Crown Prince” said, “Their faces are so disagreeable — and they whimper too? Just looking at them is annoying.”

Leiliao Atu said, “They are merely irritating. The true danger is the southern court. That Marquis Zheng has some real ability.”

The “Prince” also said, “It is a pity we have not yet swallowed up the Xida Tribe and a few others — we are not prepared. If we could wait until the autumn, when the horses are fat and the weather is clear, to march south — would that not go much more smoothly?”

Leiliao Atu said, “The world never lets you prepare everything perfectly. Let us send word to the Great Khan requesting more troops.”

And so it began: a “Prince” who had recklessly pushed south on a whim; a young woman whose sharp eyes led her to track them; a Chancellor who dispatched many more riders than needed while searching for the “Prince” — the misunderstanding grew like a snowball, rolling ever larger.

Zhù Qingjun, believing the northern force was vast and poised to invade south, reported it up the chain. Marquis Zheng sent scouts to verify, and confirmed that a substantial force was indeed camped not far away. Marquis Zheng began adding troops; Leiliao Atu discovered Marquis Zheng was adding troops and concluded that Marquis Zheng intended a surprise attack, so he too conscripted men and added troops.

Neither side had fully prepared, yet both were seized by a momentum of inevitability that compelled them to act.

Both sides kept adding troops, with not a shred of trust between them.

By the fifth month, Marquis Zheng’s side had assembled eighty thousand fully reorganized soldiers, declared to the world as two hundred thousand. On the opposing side, Leiliao Atu had called in fifty thousand, proclaimed as one hundred and fifty thousand.

A mass concentration of this scale, so close together — both sides had sensed each other’s presence, and both were sharpening their blades waiting for the moment to erupt.

Zhù Ying had moved her field headquarters further north, but could not take the field herself — she could only receive battle reports.

At the end of the fifth month, Young General Leng led his troops out in a sweeping arc, swinging wide around Leiliao Atu’s main force and striking directly at his right flank. Leiliao Atu sent men to counter.

The snowball kept rolling. By the sixth month, both sides were still deadlocked. From the battle reports, Marquis Zheng’s side held a slight advantage, but the losses on both sides were staggering. For Zhù Ying, handling the wounded, collecting the dead for burial, and distributing condolence payments left her no moment of rest.

Soldiers’ condolence payments were administered by the court; condolences for the drafted civilian laborers who were killed or wounded fell to Zhù Ying to manage.

On one particular day, she had just approved a payment of condolences for one hundred and thirty-seven people when a messenger arrived from Marquis Zheng’s main camp: “My lord! The Marquis requests your presence!”

Zhù Ying looked at the man’s expression and said, “What has happened?”

“You will know when you arrive!”

Zhù Ying felt a sudden unease in her heart. She called for Jin Liang: “Let us go together.” Then she gave orders to Jing Gang, instructing him and Xiang Le to hold the field headquarters together while she brought Hu Shijie, Zhuo Jue, and others, along with twenty attendants, and headed for the main camp.

The messenger looked at her, armed with a blade and carrying a bow, and said with a wry smile, “There is no need for all that, my lord.”

Zhù Ying asked abruptly, “What has happened to the Marquis?”

The messenger’s expression changed.

Jin Liang’s face went white as well, his lips trembling as he asked, “Could it be…?”

The man quickly said, “No, no — he is only ill!”

Zhù Ying and Jin Liang exchanged a look, then rode hard for the camp.

The main camp was wrapped in a tense, somber atmosphere. Zhù Ying went straight to the main tent. The messenger and the officer guarding the tent exchanged a glance, then stepped aside to let her pass.

Marquis Zheng was in the inner tent. Even in daytime, lamps were burning inside, illuminating the maps hanging on the walls. Marquis Zheng was reclining against his pillow, his face the color of wax.

Jin Liang, suppressing his feelings, called out softly, “Marquis!”

Marquis Zheng opened his eyes. Zhù Ying stepped forward and said, “Marquis, you should report this to the capital and request an imperial physician.”

Marquis Zheng said, “Never mind that for now!”

“How can we not…”

Marquis Zheng said, “These old bones of mine — how could they not have their ailments? Pay attention to the affairs of the camp.”

Zhù Ying said, “The grain and provisions — I will do everything I can.”

Marquis Zheng shook his head. “It is not only the grain and provisions. You must also make the northern chieftain see a wall of bronze and iron — see that the north is stable, that the empire’s strength remains great — only then will his wolfish ambitions be extinguished. For that, it is no longer I but you who must act.”

Zhù Ying quickly said, “What are you saying? Without you, no matter how stable the north is, it is merely a fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered.”

Marquis Zheng said, “Young one — speak only the truth before me.”

Zhù Ying said earnestly, “In military matters, I am truly ignorant. I do not understand why you say this.”

Marquis Zheng said, “The imperial army is somewhat improved now, but I can see they are still far below where I was at their age. So, to repel the northern tribesmen, we cannot rely on fighting alone. Look at this…”

He pointed at the military map and said to Zhù Ying, “Beyond this mountain range, even if we manage to break through into northern territory, any force that goes out must eventually return. We cannot hold it permanently — only overlordship and investiture will do.”

Zhù Ying looked at the map and felt this was indeed how things stood. On the broad open grasslands, everyone moved like the wind. The lives of the pastoral people were harsh, and they could not sustain a large force for long. Even with the strategy of living off the land by conquest, it would only work for a rapid sweep before withdrawing — it could not be sustained indefinitely.

When you thought about it, the south — though a land of miasma and vapors — could at least grow more things. The area on this map… to put it plainly: if governing this region like the Central Plains had been possible, Leiliao Atu would have already done it.

Marquis Zheng said earnestly, “And so deterrence is essential. Let people know that your blade is sharp and can kill — that you have the strength to wield it — and others will treat you with respect. But if you carry a rusty old sword and your own body is half-collapsed — then, well!”

Zhù Ying lowered her eyes and saw his finger pointing toward the blade at her own waist.

“Yes.”

Marquis Zheng continued, “Looking at the commanders here, none of them has fully come into their own yet. A commander who holds the center must be neither rash nor timid. Though you are not of military background, you are more suited to this than any of them.”

Zhù Ying shook her head repeatedly: “How did we come to this topic?”

Marquis Zheng smiled. “An encampment this large — forces stationed at multiple positions — and all the supply lines are arranged in perfect order. That requires knowing the full picture of the entire army. Those men of theirs do not have that grasp in their minds.”

At first he too had thought of Zhù Ying only as a rear-echelon functionary, but people revealed themselves by comparison.

Zhù Ying had no choice but to sit and hear his praises through to the end. Marquis Zheng then said, “This battle should have been fought long ago. It was only dragged out to this point because the northern tribesmen were busy with their own internal conflicts.”

Zhù Ying said, “I had expected to be able to go home by this autumn at the latest.”

Marquis Zheng looked at her with meaning, and said, “If only the north had been given to you for a few more years.”

Zhù Ying said, “That is most unlikely.”

She was, after all, only a special-assignment official. Holding on and pushing it to autumn at harvest time was already the absolute limit. For no other reason than that the emperor had given her a great deal of authority: she could impeach and punish officials outright; she had control over taxation and labor conscription; and she oversaw the transportation and distribution of grain for the entire army.

For the emperor to have given her a full year was already a sign of great generosity and extraordinary dispensation — it was by no means a long-term arrangement.

Marquis Zheng said, “I will submit a memorial requesting that you be allowed to remain a little longer. After a great war, pacification work needs to be done — I may be able to leave, but you will need to stay on for some time. Make the most of it.”

Zhù Ying said gravely, “Yes.”