Chen Ping's Sword

The thirty thousand cavalry were divided into the vanguard, the rear, and the middle teams.

The leader was a broad-shouldered man with thick eyebrows and a square face. His eyes appeared very honest and sincere. Mounted on a yellowish charger, he resembled a small mountain, or a block of rock that was both smelly and hard.

Anyone who met this young man of nearly thirty would find him very trustworthy, the type of person to whom you could entrust your wife and children.

"Stone, are we really taking just thirty thousand cavalry and leaving the Black Heavy Camp behind? If the battle takes a turn, the Cui Family..."

Sima Rou, also clad in armor, wielded a double-edged long knife. She was accustomed to using a sword, so she wielded the long weapon as if it were a sword.

However, compared to her daughter Han Xiaoru, Sima Rou, dressed as a military general, lacked a bit of imposing and fierce aura.

She didn’t look like someone good at warfare.

Of course, she wasn’t there to lead troops into battle. At most, she could step forward when the two sides engaged in a duel.

On this journey, she was accompanying her Martial Hall’s senior disciple Zhang Gu, serving as a supervisor. With her "special status," she helped coordinate the relationship between the generals, ensuring unity and support for the frontline battlefield to prevent any unexpected situations.

"Master’s wife, rest assured."

Zhang Gu flashed a row of large white teeth, making his dark face look even more sincere. "All the way here, our scouts have already checked twenty miles ahead. Our Ninth Junior Brother has swept through the route, and in the air, the Little Cyan Bird is keeping a lookout in secret, so I doubt there will be any unforeseen events on the way.

As for the matter of provisions, it’s really not that crucial. The Three Prefectures were originally all prosperous cities in the Southwest. The Changping Granary is well-stocked, and when the Hu People invaded, many wealthy families didn’t even have time to evacuate, leaving the Beizhou to take all those treasures and grains.

If we don’t win this battle, there’s no point in worrying about running out of food. But if we win, what’s there to worry about regarding provisions?"

Although Zhang Gu’s words were plain,

the meaning behind them was far from ordinary.

He meant that Sima Rou understood very well.

If they committed the entire army to this battle and still lost, it would naturally result in heavy casualties. Under the pursuit of the Beizhou Wolf Riders, they’d be lucky if even ten percent of the troops survived.

For those surviving, just a few thousand people, there’d be no need to worry about food — hunting or slaughtering some horses could allow them to make it back to Xingqing Prefecture.

Otherwise, they could flee elsewhere, easily finding food wherever they went.

If they won, within the Three Prefectures’ twenty-eight counties and dozens of wealthy families, just choosing a few could feed everyone rich and oily meals.

In a sense, the ravaged lands of the Three Prefectures are, in fact, a natural "Longxing" place, where the old order has completely collapsed, and fields, shops, minerals, food, everything could be nationalized.

It’s always been easier to paint on a blank canvas.

What kind of picture to paint depends entirely on the administrators.

In Zhang Gu’s straightforward mind, the lands of the Three Prefectures might even be easier to govern than places like Xingqing Prefecture and Hexi County.

The only worry was the population being a bit too small.

But does this world need to worry about population issues?

Not at all.

The north was plagued with disasters and military chaos, while banditry arose in the south, and the people were displaced.

In a short while, hundreds of thousands to millions of displaced civilians would flood in.

Hearing that a King Ping had emerged in the Southwest, making sure people were well-fed and clothed and letting them live like human beings, they’d crawl if they had to, just to get there.

"Indeed, that’s the case."

Sima Rou’s face was full of comfort.

She didn’t understand why her precious disciple specifically named Senior Brother Zhang Gu to lead the thirty thousand cavalry, but hearing Zhang Gu’s assessment of the battle situation and watching him issue various military orders smoothly, she finally realized that she had underestimated him.

These disciples, each of them, were growing rapidly.

They definitely couldn’t be looked at with old eyes anymore.

In the past eight years, Zhang Gu, from being a naive and ignorant farmer, to handling the Martial Hall’s multitude of chores meticulously, appeared to have no initiative of his own.

Even his martial arts talent didn’t seem exceptional.

It was only at the age of twenty-seven that he broke through to the Silver Body Realm of the Primordial Golden Body Technique, progressing steadily but not quickly.

In the hearts of Han Wushang and Sima Rou,

this trusted senior disciple, long regarded as part of the family, was mediocre at best.

But then?

There’s an old saying,

"A thousand-mile horse is common, but Bole is not."

How could Zhang Gu not be a victim of such pedestrian views?

Just like her own daughter Han Xiaoru, and now her senior disciple Zhang Gu.

Even those completely unremarkable disciples, who always seemed mediocre, might transform completely if given a chance to gain experience.

’Who would have thought he could easily lead thirty thousand cavalry, commanding like directing his own limbs, and his cultivation had reached the Innate Realm, Mid-Stage Golden Body. In the past, it would have been unimaginable that this disciple, as unremarkable as a stone, would have the talent of a great general.’

Sima Rou, the newly appointed supervisor, marveled, feeling she had to reassess her understanding of the top disciple of their Martial Hall, and felt her worldview being gradually overturned.

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