Chapter 23: A String of Great Victories and Rich Rewards

Chapter 23: Frequent Great Victories, Abundant Harvests

Ruins of the Fine-Tooth Tribe

Meng Tian had stationed his massive army here. Tens of thousands of military tents were densely packed along the banks of the stream. Logistics soldiers were busy constructing the camp and reinforcing defensive works; out here on the grasslands, one must be cautious in all things.

The grassland cavalry moved like the wind, and the region was infested with packs of wild wolves and fierce beasts. To ensure the safety of the main force, scouts were patrolling a radius of thirty miles. The camp was a hub of activity, with messengers constantly galloping in with intelligence from the front lines. Infantry and archers busied themselves maintaining their swords, spears, bows, and arrows, preparing thoroughly for the battles to come. This grand campaign was an opportunity these soldiers had yearned for and trained for over the past five years. It meant military merit, glory, and wealth; everyone was fired up, ready to make their mark.

The area outside the central command tent was heavily guarded. Cold-eyed, armored warriors stood sentry in silence, their icy gazes sweeping over every soldier who passed by.

Meng Tian sat at the commander’s desk, listening intently to frontline reports, nodding occasionally, and issuing orders. Yang Zimo sat to the side, bored, staring blankly at the white canvas of the tent, his mind drifting into a state of deep, detached contemplation.

He was wondering whether he should introduce Mahjong once he returned to Xianyang—it was far too dull otherwise. Perhaps he could also make a few decks of cards and train a few young ladies. Once they stood in a gambling house, he could have "sexy dealers dealing cards online." He chuckled to himself.

"Immortal Master, Immortal Master!" Meng Tian’s voice interrupted Yang Zimo’s daydreams. Yang Zimo immediately snapped back to reality, quietly wiping a crystal-clear trail of drool from the corner of his mouth.

"General Meng, what are your instructions?"

"Immortal Master, reports from the front indicate they have pushed several hundred miles deep into the grasslands. They are now encountering only large tribes, each with at least ten thousand Xiongnu cavalry. Moreover, many of these settlements are completely deserted. It seems Touman knows the Great Qin has arrived and is pulling back his forces, denying us any easy opportunities."

"In that case, the previously established strategy needs to be revised. I wonder how the various army columns are faring and where they have reached?" Yang Zimo asked, furrowing his brow.

"Report! Intelligence from the front!" A fast horse galloped into the camp. The messenger dismounted and rushed into the tent, clutching an encrypted military dispatch.

"Bring it here!" Meng Tian snatched the report, reading it carefully, his face shifting between frowns and smiles. After a quick scan, he handed it to Yang Zimo.

"Pass the order: all army commanders are to report to the command tent for a council!" Meng Tian ordered immediately.

"General, it seems it is time for a decisive battle with the Xiongnu," Yang Zimo suggested after reading the report.

"The Immortal Master’s thoughts align perfectly with my own," Meng Tian agreed.

Soon, commanders of all ranks gathered in the command tent. Meng Tian passed the report around for them to read. Once they had finished, Sima Xin stepped forward and said, "General, I believe we should recall the frontline troops to the main camp to regroup. Once the supply transports arrive, the entire army can consolidate and march together upon the Xiongnu’s Touman City to fight a final, decisive battle."

"Is this the consensus of all of you?" Meng Tian asked the group.

"General, I believe we could also send a message to the Imperial Court to expedite another shipment of supplies and mobilize more troops to march north, so we may wipe out the Xiongnu in one stroke," Ren Xiao added, stepping forward to voice his opinion.

"Hmm! That plan is viable. Judging by Wang Li's report, the Xiongnu have likely gathered at Touman City. If they are clever, reinforcements from surrounding tribes should already be on their way. In terms of sheer numbers, our army does not hold an advantage. Furthermore, given the vast number of enemy cavalry, the Great Qin will find it difficult to cope," Yang Zimo stood up and analyzed the situation for them.

"Very well! Issue the order for the frontline troops to leave scouts to monitor the Xiongnu while the rest return to camp to rest. Have the messengers take the report back to Xianyang and request that His Majesty send reinforcements. This time, our Great Qin shall awe all nations."

***

Xianyang

It had been half a month since the army departed. The ministers in Xianyang were listless. This expedition against the Xiongnu was not only the first external military campaign in the years since the Great Qin had begun its recovery, but also a massive investment for the families represented by every minister. If they won, they would fill their coffers; if they lost, it would be like cutting flesh from their own bodies.

The people of Xianyang were closely monitoring the progress of the war. Those with influence had sent their own spies north to Yanmen Pass to gather information.

"Eight-hundred-mile urgent dispatch! Make way!" Suddenly, a series of shouts rang out. Several riders, their helmets adorned with three feathers—the mark of the highest priority—galloped through the streets toward Zhangtai Palace.

These feathered riders were the Great Qin’s specialized military messengers. The number of feathers on their helmets signified the urgency of the matter—one, two, or three feathers represented three-hundred, five-hundred, and eight-hundred-mile urgencies, respectively. Anyone obstructing a feathered rider without cause could be charged with treason.

The crowd in the streets, seeing the three-feathered riders, immediately scrambled to the sides, whispering and wondering what had happened. Had the situation at the front changed?

Xianyang Palace, Qilin Hall

Qin Shi Huang and his civil and military officials were gathered around a massive sand table, earnestly discussing the war and related matters. Suddenly, they were interrupted by the shouting outside the hall. Qin Shi Huang frowned. "Shang Ying, go out and see what the commotion is about!"

"Understood!" Before Shang Ying could even leave the hall, everyone heard the cry.

"Eight-hundred-mile urgent dispatch!" The rider rushed into the hall, knelt on one knee, and held up the report.

"Help him aside and tend to him well!"

Qin Shi Huang walked quickly to Shang Ying, took the report, broke the seal, and read it carefully.

The report recorded in detail the achievements of the frontline army: they had killed over fifty thousand of the enemy, captured one hundred thousand Xiongnu men, women, and children, and seized seventy thousand horses, thirteen thousand cattle, two hundred thousand sheep, and countless gold and silver. The army had suffered over four thousand casualties and lost one set of cavalry equipment.

Meng Tian had also written a separate letter requesting imperial reinforcements for the decisive battle, which the rider had brought back along with the report.

"Bravo!" Qin Shi Huang’s excited exclamation caused the necks of the officials below to stretch as they craned to see what had made the Emperor so happy.

Seeing the longing on the faces of his ministers, Ying Zheng passed the report down for them to read.

"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!" The cheers rose in waves.

Meng Yi made a rough estimate and said to Qin Shi Huang, "Your Majesty, according to my calculations, based on selling these spoils to merchants at thirty percent of market value, the harvest will be worth over twenty-four million taels of silver. This is equivalent to more than two years of the Great Qin’s tax revenue. Heaven truly blesses our Great Qin! I cannot imagine what our total gains will be once this war concludes!"

"Boom!" The significance of the report had not been immediately obvious, but once the Minister of Finance, Meng Yi, laid out the figures, the crowd was stunned into silence.

One had to realize that under the Great Qin’s twenty-rank military merit system, even the highest-ranking Marquis only received an annual salary of one thousand dan of grain, worth about 300 taels of silver. Even with private land income, it rarely exceeded ten thousand taels. Now, by allowing their family members to follow the army and trade in cattle and horses, a single campaign could yield ten years' worth of income. How could the officials not be overjoyed?