Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

Chapter 10 Night Talk about the Future

The night was as dark as ink, staining this land that had just experienced slaughter. In the low-lying camp, several campfires burned stubbornly, their orange flames leaping and flickering, trying to dispel the thick, impenetrable darkness and chill around them, and casting swaying silhouettes of the people sitting around the fires on the cold rock walls.

The refugees huddled near the inner wall of the depression, in the most sheltered spots. Most had already curled up and fallen asleep; the prolonged terror, the flight, and the brief moment of sustenance had exhausted their last strength. Even in their sleep, their brows were often furrowed, and occasionally they would utter a muffled murmur, their bodies twitching involuntarily, revealing the lingering trauma deep within their hearts. A few children nestled in their mother's arms, tear stains still visible on their faces, but their breathing had at least become somewhat even.

Zhao Tiezhu didn't sleep. He sat near the fire, unconsciously stroking the rough hilt of the ring-pommel sword Chen Xing had given him. The cold touch kept him awake. The firelight illuminated his bronze, angular face, and his eyes, weathered by hardship, reflected the flickering flames, shimmering with a complex and unfathomable light—the relief of surviving a calamity, the uncertainty about the future, and a heavy sense of responsibility.

He glanced furtively at the center of the camp, at the area guarded by the Wei soldiers. Chen Xing wasn't resting; he too sat around a small campfire, Chen Wei standing like an iron tower half a step behind him. The young lord, by the firelight, was using a twig to trace something on the slightly muddy ground. His expression was focused and serene, creating a strange contrast with the grim surroundings and his own overly youthful face.

Zhao Tiezhu hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath, stood up, straightened his tattered clothes, and walked towards Chen Xing as quietly as possible.

Chen Wei's gaze swept over like a hawk's, scrutinizing him. Zhao Tiezhu quickly stopped, respectfully clasped his hands in a fist salute, and said in a low voice, "Commander Chen, I... I wish to pay my respects to the lord."

Chen Xing seemed to hear the noise and looked up from the "drawing" on the ground. He saw Zhao Tiezhu looking somewhat flustered. There was a hint of fatigue on his face, but his eyes were still clear. He nodded and said in a calm tone, "Tiezhu? Come and sit down."

Seeing this, Chen Wei slightly stepped aside to make way, but his gaze remained fixed on Zhao Tiezhu, remaining vigilant.

Zhao Tiezhu carefully sat down opposite Chen Xing, on the other side of the campfire, his bottom barely touching the ground, his posture respectful. His gaze involuntarily drifted to the marks on the ground made by tree branches—crooked lines outlining the direction of mountains and rivers, and a dot highlighted to the south. There were also some symbols and markings nearby that he didn't quite understand.

"My lord, what are you doing...?" Zhao Tiezhu couldn't help but ask curiously.

"Plan the route and estimate the journey." Chen Xing pointed with a twig to the circled southern marker. "This is roughly the location of the abandoned warehouse in Black Wind Ridge that you mentioned during the day. Based on the map and the information you provided, I estimate the straight-line distance to be about eighty li. However, the actual mountain road is difficult to traverse, and it will probably take us three or four days to walk with the elderly and infirm."

His tone was calm, as if stating an objective fact, but Zhao Tiezhu's heart tightened. Three or four days! Three or four days to travel through the perilous wilderness with this burden of his people! What they would encounter during that time, no one knew.

"Our lord... did it all for us..." Zhao Tiezhu's voice was hoarse, filled with guilt. He knew all too well that his men were now a tremendous burden.

Chen Xing glanced at him, shook his head, and traced the line representing the "Blackwater River" on the map with a twig: "Not entirely. That place is close to a water source, has existing infrastructure, is easy to defend and difficult to attack, and is our best option right now. We need a foothold, a 'home' where we can shelter from the wind and rain, cultivate the land, and train soldiers. Continuing to wander will only lead to death."

"Home..." Zhao Tiezhu murmured, repeating the unfamiliar yet warm word, his eyes somewhat dazed. Home, for those who had lost everything, was such a luxurious dream.

"But my lord, that place... is occupied by bandits." Zhao Tiezhu came to his senses, a look of worry on his face. "Although I don't know exactly how many people there are, to be able to occupy such a place, they are probably not the same as the scattered rabble we encountered during the day. Can... can we take it down?" He looked at Chen Xing, then at the silent Wei soldiers around him. Although he had full confidence in this army, after all, there were only a hundred of them, and they also had to spare some attention to protect these refugees.

A slight smile played on Chen Xing's lips, not out of contempt, but out of confidence based on strength and calculation. He tapped lightly on the dot representing the warehouse with a twig: "Bandits, nothing but a rabble. They have the advantage of terrain, but they lack training and discipline. As for us..." His gaze swept over the standing Chen Wei and the faintly visible figures in black armor around him, "...we have truly battle-hardened warriors. With our strategic advantage and our superior army against the weak bandits, our chances of victory are very high."

He paused, looked at Zhao Tiezhu, and changed the subject: "Of course, there is no absolute certainty in war. Therefore, we need a detailed plan and to understand the enemy's specific situation. Tomorrow morning, I will send Chen Wei with a few skilled men to go south first to scout out the terrain of the warehouse, the number of bandits, their deployment, sentry posts, and even their daily routines."

Zhao Tiezhu was deeply moved, yet also felt a pang of shame. He had only seen the difficulties, while his lord was already considering concrete solutions. This clear thinking and powerful execution further convinced him that he had chosen the right person to follow.

"My lord's foresight is admirable!" he said sincerely, then gritted his teeth, "My lord, when Commander Chen returns from his reconnaissance, if we are to attack that warehouse, I, Zhao Tiezhu, and the rest of my brothers are willing to lead the charge! Although we are not very capable, we are not afraid of death! We will never forget the blood feud of Zhao Family Village!" The flames of hatred rekindled in his eyes.

Chen Xing looked at him, neither immediately approving nor rejecting him, but calmly said, "Hatred is a driving force, but don't let hatred cloud your judgment. Fighting a war requires brains and teamwork, not just fearlessness. What you need most right now is to survive, to recover your health, and to hone your skills. In the future, there will be plenty of opportunities for you to avenge your grievances and achieve great things."

His words were like a bucket of calming spring water, pouring down on the anger burning in Zhao Tiezhu's heart, calming his agitated emotions slightly. He nodded vigorously: "Yes, Tiezhu understands! I will obey your orders, sir!"

As the night deepened, the campfire crackled, occasionally scattering sparks that were quickly extinguished in the darkness.

Chen Xing fell silent, his gaze returning to the southern night sky, seemingly looking towards the unknown warehouse, or perhaps contemplating the more distant future. Zhao Tiezhu dared not disturb him further, simply sitting there silently, savoring this rare moment of peace and security—a moment almost impossible to find in such chaotic times.

He knew that from this night forward, his fate and that of his people were now inextricably linked with that of the mysterious and powerful young lord. The road ahead was still fraught with thorns and unknown dangers, but at least they were no longer struggling alone; they had direction, they had a leader.

Hope, like a campfire in the darkness, though faint, burns truly.