Chapter 67: Chapter 66: The Rout of the Troops Chapter 67: Chapter 66: The Rout of the Troops Zhou Lan did not linger at the riverside for long. After the scribes had recorded Yang Zhenshan’s merits, she hastily led her people away.
After a short rest at noon, Yang Zhenshan also led his troop to continue their journey, and it was not until the next morning that they found the main army’s campsite, delivering the grains and supplies to the Left Camp at Chongshan Town.
Back at the camp, Yang Zhenshan first handed over the grains to Zhao Yuan, and then delivered the severed heads of the Northern barbarians to the camp’s scribes. They would tally them up and report to the main commander’s camp later on. Rewards would be given after the war ended.
As for the spoils of war, Yang Zhenshan kept the Silver for himself, and handed over things like the warhorses and armaments to Zhao Yuan. There was no way he could take these spoils with him.
Perhaps after the war, when it came time for reward and recognition, Zhou Lan would give him some extra Silver Coin, considering the significant value of so many warhorses.
Having dealt with all matters, Yang Zhenshan intended to rest for a couple of days, but to his surprise, he received an order the next morning to return to Chongshan Pass with supplies.
This time, the order didn’t come from Zhou Lan, but from the main commander’s camp.
Despite the protection of the Left and Right Camps sweeping away Northern barbarians harassing the supply routes, the main army had suffered heavy losses to their Supply Teams and lost much grain. The main commander’s camp had no choice but to consolidate the Supply Teams from different camps to return to Chongshan Pass for supplies together.
Thus, Yang Zhenshan became a dedicated logistics officer, once again leading his troop to Chongshan Pass.
In the 23rd year of stable rule, in the middle of July.
Yang Zhenshan led his troop once again to the riverside where they had withstood attacks from the Northern barbarians.
The long supply line snaked along the river bank like a dragon, slowly advancing. The originally flat riverside was now marked with a road carved by the cartwheels.
This was Yang Zhenshan’s fourth time returning to Chongshan Pass with supplies. Except for the first encounter with the Northern barbarians, the subsequent trips were relatively safe.
Although the Northern barbarians still harassed the supply routes, they didn’t dare to attack the supply line as recklessly as before with the Left and Right Camps on guard.
The weather, however, was getting hotter and hotter, making the task more exhausting for the soldiers and civilian laborers.
Under the scorching sun.
Yang Zhenshan rode on Red Cloud, unable to stop the sweat from streaming down.
One of the ancient customs had its downsides; since one’s body and hair was a gift from one’s parents, even cutting the hair was taboo.
With thick long hair weighing down on the head, it felt like wearing a cotton hat, unbearably hot.
Moreover, Yang Zhenshan’s beard had grown three inches long. Before, when his original self was frail, his sparse beard was only an inch or so. But ever since he began drinking Spiritual Spring Water, his hair and beard had grown rapidly.
The white strands turned dark and thick, which made him appear younger, but the inconvenience of long hair and beard followed suit.
At that moment, he truly wished to have a clean shave to feel cooler.
Sigh~~
Exhaling a heavy breath, Yang Zhenshan listlessly watched the glistening river water.
He wondered when this war would end.
The army had been besieging Fushan City for half a month now, attacking the city vigorously every day. However, they still had not managed to take the city.
Siege warfare was tough in ancient times, especially for cities with high walls. It was an extraordinarily difficult challenge.
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that people’s lives were being used to fill the moats.
Just as he was recalling the scene of the siege he had witnessed, his pupils suddenly contracted.
“Desheng, how long has it been since it last rained?”
Zhao Desheng, who was following beside him, looked up at the clear sky and said listlessly, “It seems like there was a light rain last month!”
Yang Zhenshan narrowed his eyes, gazing at the surface of the Songyuan River.
Indeed, there was a light rain last month, but it didn’t even wet the ground.
This meant that not a single proper rain had fallen since they left the pass.
How long had they been outside the pass?
Almost a month and a half!
Logically, June and July should be the months with the most rainfall outside the pass, but there had hardly been any rain for the past month and a half.
The water levels of the Songyuan River had dropped significantly; even the shallow banks had dried up completely. Now, one could actually see the riverbed, which was once of unknown depth.
Last year, a long drought forced the Hu Clan to invade for loot.
And this year!
Yang Zhenshan’s expression grew heavier.
If it’s as he feared, this battle would not end so easily.
War has already rendered the East Sea Hu Clan incapable of normal production, and should they also face a drought, the East Sea Hu Clan would inevitably be driven to desperation.
Would the East Sea Hu Clan be afraid?
No!
Once they were on the brink of starvation, they would have only one choice, which was to raid within the borders.
Even if Fushan City were to fall and the main forces of the East Sea Hu Clan were annihilated, the remnants would still choose to raid within the borders.
Natural disasters and man-made calamities would follow one after another.
It’s just unknown whether it has rained within the passes, and if it has not, the disaster could be even greater.
Thinking of this, Yang Zhenshan felt a surge of intense unease.
Damn it!
He seemed to know where his unease was coming from!
Natural disasters!
Disasters more terrifying than war.
He sat rigidly on his horse, his gaze vacant as he looked towards Songyuan River.
What if there is a severe drought within the passes?
What kind of outcome would that bring?
Yang Zhenshan could not predict it, and it was difficult to predict.
Thinking of the eight hundred li of garrison in Chongshan Town, thinking of the common people in Yang Family Village of Anning County.
Yang Zhenshan suddenly shivered.
“It won’t happen! It won’t!”
“Even if there is a severe drought for a year, they should be able to get through it!”
He murmured softly to himself.
And at this moment, a piercing cry came.
“Report~”
Yang Zhenshan abruptly looked up to see Yang Qinwu riding his horse, sprinting from the dry riverbed ahead.
A man and his horse kicked up dust, but it could not conceal the panic in his eyes.
Yang Qinwu was the youngest among the ten descendants of the Yang family around Yang Zhenshan, with the lowest seniority.
He was only fifteen this year and would call Yang Zhenshan “great-grandfather.”
However, Yang Zhenshan had high hopes for this youngster, who not only had good talent in martial arts but was also exceedingly clever.
Since entering Linguan Castle, although young, Yang Zhenshan still let him serve as a small flag officer, and he did not disappoint.
Today, it should have been Yang Qinwu, the kid, acting as the Scout ahead. His frantic return—could it be that there were Northern barbarian cavalry ahead?
Yang Zhenshan’s heart tightened.
“What happened?”
“Sir, it’s bad, the camp has been attacked by Northern barbarian cavalry!” panted Yang Qinwu.
“What?”
Yang Zhenshan’s mind went numb.
“The main camp was attacked by Northern barbarian cavalry, now chaos reigns inside the camp!” Yang Qinwu said again.
“How do you know?” Yang Zhenshan looked towards the North.
At this moment, they were nearly a hundred li away from the main camp, and even if Yang Qinwu was scouting ahead, he should not have been able to learn of the situation at the main camp.
“There are fleeing soldiers!” Panic etched over the youthful face of Yang Qinwu.
Yang Zhenshan took a deep breath, with no time to think further, he spurred his horse to race ahead.
After traveling around two or three li, he indeed saw a group of soldiers, shucking their helmets and armor, running in a fluster.
