Chapter 7: Gathering at Crimson City

Heading north to Jiangyi, one must pass through a mountain path. To the west lies Mount Ji, to the east Mount Zijin; this road serves as a crucial thoroughfare connecting the northern and southern parts of Hedong.

The Pei clan had long settled at the foot of Mount Ji, forming a fortified stronghold no less significant than a township. Even when the Baibo army marched through the area, they never dared to violate the Pei fortress.

This time, as the Tiger Guards mustered northward at Jiangyi, they too passed by without disturbing the Pei family. Among them, Pei Mao, the highest-ranking official of their generation, once served as a Minister and enjoyed the trust of Emperor Ling.

Even now, Pei Mao served as an imperial censor beside the emperor, advising closely during travels. Although generals Li Jue and Guo Si waged battles back and forth, Pei Mao skillfully navigated between the two, avoiding significant harm.

The commoners of Hedong eagerly enlisted in the Tiger Guards, loyal to defend the emperor and the realm, but also keen to secure favor by aligning themselves with Pei Mao’s influence.

Zhao Ji owned a horse for travel; among the Tiger Guards recruited from their county, more than twenty had horses, indicating a relatively affluent family background.

To accommodate the foot soldiers, mounted Tiger Guards would occasionally dismount and walk alongside them.

By the time they reached Jiangyi, night had fully fallen.

To fend off small bands of Xiongnu bandits, Jiangyi maintained a military camp with a garrison of a thousand soldiers.

By guarding the mountain pass between Mount Ji and Mount Zijin, large groups of Xiongnu raiders could not assault the Hedong administrative center.

As for the Xiongnu who pillaged and harassed civilians, they were lawless bandits from among the tribes, not regular Xiongnu forces.

Such plundering was classified as banditry, akin to local robbers.

The exact role of Xiongnu nobility in these matters remained a topic best left unexplored.

The southern outskirts of Jiangyi featured earthwork barracks lit by torches, where Zhao Ji’s squad of ten was assigned a single barrack.

Inside, there were no beds; each man received a bundle of dry straw.

After a brief flurry of activity, the straw was laid out in a row; with no custom of washing feet, many curled up on their straw mats, falling asleep in their clothes.

Zhao Ji, along with his squad leaders Lü Chun and Yang Ji, barred the door and, carrying torches, crossed to the opposite building.

There, three sergeants, seven squad leaders, and a clerk under the county’s military officer Hu Ban of Wenxi County gathered.

Hu Ban sat upright against the wall, surrounded by his men who sat on thicker bundles of straw.

“Our journey has been exhausting,” Hu Ban began softly, “and since you all have horses for travel, the night watch will be particularly taxing.”

He then outlined the matters at hand: “Tonight’s guard duty is divided into three shifts: first shift led by Pei Xiu, second by Zhao Ji, third by Wei Xing, each with three men, assisted by one county soldier on duty. I have two rules: first, no noise—nighttime noise in camp is a grave offense.”

Seeing no objections, he continued, “Second, feeding the horses—night rations must neither be insufficient nor excessive, so as not to disturb the horses. If anyone steals a horse, shoot with bow or crossbow immediately; no words, no pursuit.”

Several groups of Tiger Guards from neighboring counties had already arrived, but it would take seven to ten days to complete the assembly.

As Hu Ban spoke, Zhao Ji noticed Wei Xing, a sergeant from the northern village, glancing at him sideways, as if suspecting him of horse theft.

Pei Xiu was the first to speak: “Officer, what if this is a misunderstanding?”

“The night watch is strictly enforced. How could there be a misunderstanding?” Hu Ban replied.

Fearing leniency, he emphasized, “Don’t hide it—last night, the Linfen unit lost two low-quality horses. Commander Wang has ordered that anyone who violates this be shot dead without guilt and rewarded for the deed!”

Understanding the gravity, Pei Xiu saluted in acknowledgment. The others followed suit.

Hu Ban said, “I will prepare a pot of hot soup to warm you during the watch and replenish your strength. That will be all for now. Prepare yourselves.”

“Understood.”

After the meeting, Zhao Ji bowed his head and stepped out through the low door. Yang Ji, walking beside him, went ahead to retrieve torches from the corner.

In a hushed voice, Zhao Ji asked the sergeant, “Should we drink some hot soup or just sleep?”

“Drink some soup first, then rest. It’s a little over an hour in total, and sleep will be uneasy.”

As Zhao Ji paused, Pei Xiu emerged and inquired, “Aji, anything to report?”

“I find the second shift’s handover tedious. How about the three of us keeping watch with Seventh Brother?”

“That works. You come with me to get some millet.”

Pei Xiu agreed and gestured to the clerk who had just come out—a poor county scholar without a horse.

After a grueling day’s walk, the clerk trudged ahead, leading them to an empty granary.

In a low voice, Pei Xiu instructed, “Each horse gets three sheng of beans and one sheng of millet at night—no more, no less. As for the soup Hu Ban mentioned, use five sheng of millet and three he of salt.”

At that moment, Wei Xing entered but did not dare bring his torch inside and stood by the doorway.

He helped Zhao Ji hold the sheepskin bags while Pei Xiu used a measuring scoop to portion the beans and millet.

After filling four and a half bags, they stopped and then measured five sheng of millet into a wooden basin. The clerk also measured three he of salt.

Once the provisions were taken out, the cautious clerk tied the door with grass rope, making a complex knot before yawning and leaving.

Wei Xing, unwilling to linger, took a bag and a half of horse feed and said little.

The distribution of horse feed was controlled by the three sergeants; Zhao Ji and Pei Xiu fed their own squads slightly more beans, and Wei Xing naturally did the same for his men.

Millet was hulled and ready for cooking; beans were harder to cook through, and the millet still had its husks.

Neither Pei Xiu nor Zhao Ji was inclined to embezzle these supplies.

Soon, a campfire was lit, and a ceramic pot was hung to boil soup.

Every half hour, a squad of five men patrolled outside the small camp area with torches.

Under the strict night ban, there was no need for Hu Ban to keep repeating orders. These Tiger Guards were sons of respectable families, well aware of the harshness of the curfew.

Especially now, during the assembly phase, Commander Wang Zhi was eager to establish his authority.

If anyone dared make noise during the night ban, Wang Zhi would have no hesitation in executing them to set an example and enforce discipline.

Across the twenty counties of Hedong, there were barely over a thousand gentry youths of this age group.

Without them, it would take seven or eight years of recuperation before the next generation could fill the ranks.

The newly assembled troops at Jiang County represented the finest military talent in Hedong.

The three-river cavalry mobilized during the Yellow Turban rebellion were drawn from this very group.

Such a special situation explained the high number of volunteers.

Soldiers of their caliber were hard to recruit even with the county magistrate Wang Yi’s funds.

Despite that, no one dared to slacken or show negligence.

The Tiger Guards hastily formed in Hongnong Commandery served as a cautionary tale.

Led and organized by the Yang family, and composed of brave and strong retainers from various households, they were still nearly wiped out by forces from Guanzhong.

After feeding the horses, the millet soup came to a boil.

Pei Xiu and his two companions ate and drank a little before returning to their barracks to sleep.

The county soldiers on watch, lacking horses and with little fear of horse theft, ate their fill and lay down by the campfire to rest.

Zhao Ji instructed Yang Ji to lie down and feign sleep, while he took out his arrows.

By firelight, he carefully selected his arrows; his family had replenished his supply, giving him two quivers totaling sixty arrows.

In addition to arrows, he also received two bags of arrowheads for crafting his own.

Except for a dozen special arrowheads, the rest were common military conical heads.

The spring dampness had slightly warped some arrow shafts, so he took the opportunity to dry and straighten them.

He also possessed two crossbows: one a heavy foot-pulled repeating crossbow, the other a light double-barreled version.

He was eager to test the ‘Thornbreaker’ enhancement effect on his crossbows—a level three boost with a 24% increase, already quite formidable.

For ranged weapons like crossbows or short spears, range equated to power.

Especially with crossbows, one could precisely measure the enhancement’s effect.

If effective, the enhancement would increase the projectile’s flight speed, thereby improving accuracy.

With just the heavy repeating crossbow, within thirty paces, he was confident of piercing an opponent’s chest.

Even against armor—two layers thick—the arrowheads could penetrate and injure the flesh beneath.

Wounds breaking the skin were debilitating for low- and mid-level officers; survivors would be left maimed at best.