Chapter 43: The Past (III)

Chapter 43: The Past (III)

The group traveled to Tongma County and booked the third floor of the Welcome Inn.

Le Wuya, Pei Mingqi, Wenren, and An Shuguo sat at one table, while Pei Mingqi’s guards took another.

The guards had been running alongside Pei Mingqi the whole way and were already growling with hunger, eagerly waiting for the roasted lamb to cook.

Pei Mingqi never shortchanged his own people, so he first had the innkeeper serve some meat dishes to tide them over.

The moment hot flatbreads and a plate of tender, bone-separated boiled lamb head were brought out, the aroma was almost overwhelming. The young men grabbed pieces of bread stuffed with meat and wolfed them down without lifting their heads.

Le Wuya, meanwhile, was busy teaching Wenren, who had never eaten roasted whole lamb before: “The roasted lamb in Tongma is made from young lambs—good meat, no gamey taste, goes well with any dip. As it cooks, you slice off the outer layers and eat them while hot and tender for the best flavor.”

Wenren nodded earnestly: “Mm.”

“'Mm' what? You still don’t get what I mean, do you?” Le Wuya said, frustrated at his lack of progress. “You have to fight for it! Look at who’s at this table—everyone’s starved for some grease. If you don’t grab it, you won’t even get a bone!”

Wenren smiled: “Mm.”

Seeing their exchange, Pei Mingqi couldn’t help but chime in.

“Magistrate Wenren comes from the land of fish and rice south of the river, yet he seems quite knowledgeable about lamb,” he said, turning to Wenren with suspicion. “You’re a local, but you’ve never heard of Tongma’s lamb?”

Wenren answered frankly: “My family was poor. I’d heard of it but never had the chance to eat it. This time, I’m indebted to Young General Pei and Master Wenren for the opportunity. I am deeply honored.”

Le Wuya glanced at Pei Mingqi, knowing he was getting suspicious again, but couldn’t be bothered to deal with him. He got up and went to the backyard to check on the roasting pit.

Once Le Wuya left, Pei Mingqi looked Wenren up and down, growing more displeased: “You’ve already passed the scholar examination?”

Wenren: “Yes.”

“What are your plans for the future?”

“To earn a government position,” Wenren thought for a moment, “or to follow the Master and do what I can.”

Pei Mingqi poured himself a cup of wine: “Better focus on the former. Following him around won’t get you far.”

Though blunt, it was the truth.

In others’ eyes, a scholar should minimize worldly affairs and devote himself to the classics to be considered ‘pure.’

Scholar Ming’s daily trips to the government office inevitably invited suspicion of flattering and currying favor with local officials.

Of course, Pei Mingqi also had his own selfish reasons.

Seeing such an impressive young scholar constantly chattering with his precious little red sandalwood burner was something he couldn’t stand.

“There’s no difference,” Wenren said.

Pei Mingqi didn’t follow: “…What?”

“I mean, Young General Pei needn’t worry,” Wenren said calmly. “Even after I earn a position, I’ll still follow him. So there’s no difference.”

“Cough—cough!”

Pei Mingqi choked on his wine, coughing as he stared sharply at Wenren, his gaze darkening.

…What did he mean?

Wenren seemed to realize what he had just said, and under the shock, his ears flushed hot.

Deputy General An, while patting Pei Mingqi’s back, looked down at the floor intently, searching for a wide enough crack to crawl into.

Why was he at this table?

He wanted to join the guards’ table.

Breaking the awkward standoff was Le Wuya, who suddenly returned.

Snow dusted his shoulders and clothes, and he was holding a small, vaguely human-shaped snowman: “It’s snowing heavily outside!”

“Strange, strange.”

The master who was to slice the lamb for them entered right behind Le Wuya, carrying his tools.

The master was quite old, with white hair and beard, but age had not tempered him into steadiness.

Wearing a cotton mask, he wiped his knives while muttering: “Spring snow must mean demons are about.”

Deputy General An, relieved for the distraction, quickly engaged him in conversation to dispel the awkwardness at the table: “Old uncle, the weather here is unpredictable. Spring snow is common.”

“But this is too heavy!” The master shook his head. “The last time we had two big spring snows was the year of the Battle of Tongma.”

Deputy General An: “…”

He wanted to slap himself.

If only he hadn’t opened his mouth.

Le Wuya, head down, focused on carving a nice little nose for the snowman.

He planned to make a Xiaoliu.

Before coming, he had happened to receive a letter from Sixth Prince Xiang Zhijie, delivered by Jiang He.

The letter’s content was as irritating as ever, saying his mother liked the incense he sent and had given him a bracelet made of agarwood in return, meant to calm the mind and soothe the spirit.

Along with the letter came some unique medicines from the capital, the same ones Le Wuya often took in his past life.

As if worried he wouldn’t take them, the prince also sent some preserved fruits, kept cold with ice, and instructed Jiang He to replace the ice at every post station.

Le Wuya tasted them and confirmed they were from Qinghezhai, his favorite shop from his past life.

He felt like this little brat had gotten the better of him again, so naturally, he had to retaliate.

Jiang He was still staying at a post station and would hand over the reply when Le Wuya returned.

Seeing the heavy snow, Le Wuya had a sudden idea: make a snow Xiaoliu and send it to him.

By the time it arrived, the snow would have melted, leaving only an empty box. Let him guess!

Le Wuya was busy with his prank, and the words “Battle of Tongma” passed by his ears as if they were nothing special.

…

By the time Le Wuya’s Tianlang Camp expanded to fifty-two men, Le Qianzhang allowed him to go to war.

Once on the battlefield, his talent naturally revealed itself.

He seemed to inherently know where to send his men to charge; whether the enemy's forces were strong or weak, real or feigned, he could be about eighty percent sure at a glance.

Under Le Wuya's command, this unit was like a sharp blade, unstoppable wherever its edge pointed.

After several consecutive victories, the young soldiers under Le Wuya were getting cocky.

Although they were only small victories, they were enough to let them walk around like they owned the camp.

They were still young and didn't think much about the future.

For now, having battles to fight and merits to earn was the best they could ask for.

But Le Wuya had to plan for their long-term future.

A dagger is used for close-quarters combat, a spear for striking from afar; each weapon has its purpose.

He trained this unit wasn't aiming for small victories in head-on battlefield clashes.

They needed to be placed in more suitable positions.

Le Wuya wanted to talk to Le Qianzhang.

As luck would have it, when he went to find him, Le Qianzhang was out drilling the troops and was not in his tent.

Le Qianzhang ran a very strict camp; when he was absent, the guards would not even allow Le Wuya into the tent.

But this couldn't stop Le Wuya.

He dutifully excused himself, circled around behind the tent, and returned to his own tent.

During this period, Le Wuya had abundant energy with nowhere to vent, so he dug a tunnel from his own military tent to the central command tent, and even accidentally dug about ten feet toward Little Phoenix's tent.

Aside from this minor episode, Le Wuya got the job done with remarkable efficiency.

Breaking ground, reinforcing the tunnel, and clearing the excavated earth—no one discovered this death-worthy stunt that Le Wuya had committed.

He intended to show off to his father.

Through the tunnel, Le Wuya successfully crawled into Le Qianzhang's tent.

He chose the exit under Le Qianzhang's bed, using a movable wooden board as a door, covered with a black sheepskin blanket as camouflage, so that from the outside, it was impossible to detect.

Just as Le Wuya was gleefully wriggling out from under the bed, familiar and powerful footsteps came from outside the tent.

It was Father!

But there was someone else with Father.

After assessing the situation, Le Wuya silently scooted back.

He had just crawled over, dirty and disheveled.

He wanted to appear clean and presentable in front of his father.

Entering the tent with his father was his "Uncle Yu," Deputy General Yu Cailiang.

Deputy General Yu's full name was Yu Cailiang, and as far back as Le Wuya could remember, he had been his father's right-hand man.

Deputy General Yu seemed to have been discussing the matter with Le Qianzhang all the way; after entering the tent, he spoke directly: "General, what exactly are you thinking?"

Le Qianzhang said: "Ali is just making small moves, fooling around."

Le Wuya had just retreated back into the tunnel and was considering whether to slip back or wait here when he vaguely heard this sentence and immediately pricked up his ears.

"Letting him go to the battlefield was a mistake in the first place!" Deputy General Yu said fiercely. "While he's still not fully fledged, disbanding the Tianlang Camp is the best solution!"

Le Wuya lifted the wooden board slightly, revealing the upper half of his face.

"'Mistake'?" Le Qianzhang looked at him and said something that left Le Wuya completely baffled: "...You know it's a mistake, too."

Deputy General Yu bowed his head and remained silent.

Le Wuya held his breath and waited for a long time, but failed to get a response from Le Qianzhang.

After a long silence, Le Qianzhang let out a long sigh and waved him off dismissively.

Deputy General Yu cupped his hands and silently withdrew from the tent.

Le Wuya also quietly sneaked back to his own tent, brushed off the dirt, asked the new recruit Jiang He to bring him hot water, then lounged on the edge of the tub, soaking and daydreaming.

Jiang He brought in another bucket of water: "Little General, is the water hot enough?"

Le Wuya's eyes lit up, and he beckoned to him: "Hey, Jiu Gao, are you familiar with Deputy General Yu?"

Jiang He first thought about who "Deputy General Yu" was, then honestly shook his head.

Le Wuya buried half of his face in the water, blew a few bubbles, and then suddenly got an idea: "See if you can find out if he has any sisters."

Obviously, Deputy General Yu didn't want him to go to the battlefield, even to the point of advising his father to disband his Tianlang Camp.

Could his mother be Deputy General Yu's sister? Was he his uncle?

Otherwise, why would he care so much?

But just after sending Jiang He away, Le Wuya was amused by his own wild guess.

That Deputy General Yu had bushy eyebrows, big eyes, a square face, and broad cheeks—nothing like the Jing people.

He himself had curly hair and odd-colored eyes, clearly a child of the Jing tribe.

People say a nephew favors his uncle, but there was not a trace of resemblance between him and the deputy general; such speculation was purely fanciful.

As for his relationship with Deputy General Yu, Le Wuya only let his imagination run wild for a moment and then let it go.

The most important thing was to hold on to his Tianlang Camp.

Le Wuya knew that even if he took the imperial examinations, he would still have a future.

But once becoming a civil official, he'd be far away, bound by strict etiquette, and it would be hard to be with Little Phoenix.

Therefore, he had to become a military officer and be so promising that his father would have nothing to say.

Only then would they have a future.

Unexpectedly, a few days later, Jiang He came to report back.

He stood solemnly in front of him and reported: "Deputy General Yu has no biological sisters. He is the second son in his family. The eldest son is named Yu Zhengde, who serves in the Crown Prince's Household Office in the capital."

Le Wuya's ears perked up: "The Crown Prince's Household Office?"

That is a crucial position assisting the Eastern Palace.

Did his Yu family really make such a mark? Two sons, one civil and one military, each achieving their own accomplishments?

The next moment, Jiang He delivered his findings: "Deputy General Yu is also the foster brother of the current emperor."

...Oh, that explains it.

The current emperor...

Over a decade ago, when I was born, the emperor must have still been the Crown Prince.

Le Wuya certainly wasn’t interested in wasting time wondering whether he was of imperial blood.

The emperor sending his foster brother to serve in the military camp was likely to keep an eye on his father's every move.

Le Wuya's greatest suspicion was the word "wrong" that Deputy General Yu had mentioned.

What exactly was "wrong"?

After much thought, Le Wuya believed that the emperor was dissatisfied with the Le family allowing an illegitimate son of impure blood to serve in the military as the future General Zhaoyi.

Firstly, fearing that some might not accept it, and secondly, worrying that the order of the legitimate and illegitimate sons might get flipped, causing internal discord in the Le family.

When it came to the Le family, Le Wuya never worried.

His two elder brothers genuinely loved, trusted, and cherished him; it was also a dead certainty that they lacked the ability and had no desire to become generals.

Therefore, to correct this "wrong," he had to rack up merits and win everyone over.

Having made up his mind, Le Wuya smiled at Jiang He and asked, "Such important information—where did you get it?"

Jiang He replied honestly, "I told the soldiers I want to get hitched."

Le Wuya: "...Ah?"

"I told them that I like older women, don't want to work hard, and just want to marry up into a rich family," Jiang He said without changing his expression. "They laughed at me, but they also told me a lot of things. That's how it happened."

Le Wuya was stunned for a moment, then laughed and kept patting Jiang He on the head. "You, you..."

What a huge sacrifice!

Jiang He blinked, not understanding why Le Wuya was laughing, but felt happy at being patted. He looked at him eagerly: "Little General, did I do okay?"

"Good. Real good." Le Wuya slung an arm around Jiang He's shoulders. "Come on, let's go to the training ground. I'll show you a couple of moves!"

Jiang He's eyes lit up, and he cheerfully followed Le Wuya toward the training ground.

Having a plan in mind, Le Wuya proposed to his father the next day that he lead the Tianlang Camp on a reconnaissance mission.

Le Qianzhang carefully reviewed the battle strategy Le Wuya submitted, then said calmly, "Since it's reconnaissance, you should travel light. Why carry so many supplies and weapons?"

Le Wuya had a long and earnest private discussion with him.

No one knew what the father and son talked about.

A month later, Pei Mingqi only learned that Le Wuya was to escort grain supplies.

Moreover, the mission was urgent, and he was about to leave camp immediately.

Upon hearing the news, Pei Mingqi hurriedly found Le Wuya, who was ready to depart, and without a word, dragged him to a secluded spot. "Escorting grain? I don't believe it! What are you really up to?"

Le Wuya grinned. "Not telling you."

"You!..." Pei Mingqi knew this was no time for panic, so he forced himself to calm down. "Crow, you need to think twice."

Le Wuya nodded. "I have. And I put the military pledge under your name."

Hearing "military pledge," Pei Mingqi understood everything.

But since it involved military intelligence, he couldn't press further.

"I might as well strangle you!" Pei Mingqi was furious and anxious. "I regret making friends with you, you lunatic! Are you that desperate to rack up merits?"

"Yes," Le Wuya looked into his eyes. "I'm desperate."

If he didn't act quickly, his Tianlang Camp would be gone.

He had painstakingly built up some resources, a little nest egg, and he couldn't waste it all.

Le Wuya threw his arms around his shoulders, rubbed his neck hard, feeling the rapid pulse and hot skin, and felt at ease.

He whispered, "Little Phoenix, wait for me."

...

After arriving at Nanting, Wenren Yue had also looked into the border war records and knew a bit about the Bronze Horse Battle.

But it was just one sentence in the old county records.

"The Bronze Horse Battle was a battle of cunning, getting outstanding results with just a hundred men."

Seeing that none of the soldiers there answered, leaving only the roast lamb chef standing there looking around, looking lonely, Wenren Yue chimed in, "The Bronze Horse Battle—was that the surprise attack that won with fewer men?"

The roast lamb chef, glad that someone had spoken, nodded eagerly. "That's right, that's right. It was Le Wuya, that great villain—he was a true hero in his youth. He led dozens of men disguised as merchants into the territory of the Jing tribe. In a snowy spring day like this, he managed to capture a really tough Jing tribe chief. The chief was called... called..."

He hemmed and hawed for a while, unable to recall the name.

But the old man was stubborn, insisting on remembering, his face getting red from frustration.

Seeing him so flustered, Le Wuya gently brushed the snow dust off the snowman's face and reminded him, "...Called Damuqi."