Chapter Twenty-Five: Journey to the Frontier Town

Upon receiving the summons from the Ministry of War, Song Ying’an was compelled to return to the frontier army at once and assume command of the Xuan Battalion once more. With the extent of casualties in the Xuan Battalion still unclear, and the barbarian tribes launching their invasion ahead of schedule, the strategies Zhao Hengyi had imparted for countering cavalry became all the more crucial.

In recent days, the blacksmiths Song Ying’an had assembled had already forged a good number of wire meshes and caltrops, but transporting these supplies to the border troops would require a great deal of time—time they could not afford with the urgency of the current situation. The best course of action Song Ying’an could conceive was to bring along his brilliant, resourceful brother Zhao Hengyi and return together to the frontier.

The defense of the border did not rest upon the Xuan Battalion alone. No matter how decayed the frontier forces might be, over more than a decade, the defensive line had been fortified. There were numerous blacksmiths in the Quartermaster Camp as well. Rather than transporting wire mesh and caltrops all the way from Dangyang County, it would be far more efficient to forge them directly within the army.

After a brief consideration, Zhao Hengyi agreed.

He was well aware of the dangers ahead. The tribes’ early incursion had caught the unprepared border troops off guard, and there was no military dispatch accompanying the Ministry’s orders; no one knew what state the frontier was truly in. It was possible that, as in the drought-fueled invasion a decade prior, the border of Great Yan would be pushed a hundred miles further inland. If that came to pass, the current frontier would become enemy territory, and the garrisoned troops would be slaughtered or enslaved.

Yet Zhao Hengyi had reasons he could not ignore. Over the days spent together, his feelings for Song Ying’an had grown from mere pretense to genuine brotherly affection. Even from the most selfish perspective, in this rotting nation of Great Yan, without the protection of Song Ying’an—a scion of the Marquis of Weiwu and the Lord of Dangyang—everything Zhao Hengyi had built in Yushu Bay would be as a castle made of sand, swept away by the first great wave.

Whether for sentiment or for survival, Zhao Hengyi had no choice but to follow Song Ying’an to the frontier garrison.

He did not expect to turn the tide single-handedly, but only hoped that, in the worst case, he could help his brother escape with his life. As long as Song Ying’an lived, their future would still hold countless possibilities; but if he were to fall amid the chaos, all of Zhao Hengyi’s efforts would be as insubstantial as a mirage.

Such was the sorrow of being a mere commoner in Great Yan, a lowly ant among the multitudes.

Of all those affected by Zhao Hengyi’s decision to follow Song Ying’an to the army, none was more distraught than Miao Xiaoyu.

She could not understand: just as life was improving, and the people of Yushu Bay were finally enjoying comfort thanks to her husband, why must he risk his life at such a moment? Even as the daughter of a former wealthy merchant, she knew that joining the border army in Great Yan was fraught with peril. Only those unable to pay their taxes were conscripted by the authorities, and of those sent to serve, barely two or three in ten ever returned. Even these survivors were often maimed, missing arms or legs, no longer able to fight.

Poverty was common in Yushu Bay, and there were many such veterans among them—Wang Dahu, who lost his left arm, was a prime example.

In Miao Xiaoyu’s eyes, her husband was innocent of any wrongdoing and had the favor of Lord Dangyang, a man of power and influence. Why, then, should he be sent to the dangerous frontier to serve in the army?

“Xiaoyu, I have my reasons for going to the border,” Zhao Hengyi said, facing his weeping wife and their six little daughters, his heart filled with reluctance. “But there are things in this world that one cannot refuse. My brother treats me as his own flesh and blood; how could I stand by and do nothing in his hour of need? Besides, it is not as dangerous as you imagine. My brother has said that my duties will be within the Quartermaster Camp, overseeing the forging of weapons and armor—a safe post, indeed.”

He spoke the truth. Song Ying’an was taking him back to the Xuan Battalion precisely so that he could lead the blacksmiths in crafting defenses against cavalry.

Zhao Hengyi spoke many words of comfort, explaining the risks and benefits in detail until his wife, not yet his in consummation, was finally pacified. As for their six little ones, it took hugs, kisses, and tossing them high into laughter to dry their tears.

The affairs of Yushu Bay required little of his attention. From the beginning, Zhao Hengyi had delegated authority, with most matters managed by the village head and the elders. He had introduced a work-points system, much like the people’s communes of his previous life, running the village as tightly as a sealed barrel. His temporary absence would not hinder Yushu Bay’s operations; only some ambitious plans would need to be paused, giving everyone a chance to adjust to their new lives.

Zhao Hengyi was not setting out alone. Wang Dahu, the sharpshooter from the Xuan Battalion, accompanied his master back to the front lines. The quick-witted and fierce Wang Erhu volunteered as well, as did Zhang Daniu, Zhao Hengyi’s blacksmith apprentice.

His goal was clear: to remain in the Quartermaster Camp, lead the smiths in forging anti-cavalry defenses, and, if the situation turned disastrous, find a way to bring Song Ying’an back safely.

With military matters pressing, Song Ying’an, despite his rank as Lord Dangyang, allowed himself only half a day to prepare. He gathered his personal guards, met with Zhao Hengyi and his three companions, and together they hurried by boat along the waterways to the border.

Meanwhile, the craftsmen recruited in Dangyang County continued forging wire mesh and caltrops without pause. Song Ying’an, pessimistic about the outbreak of war, intended these supplies to be sent continuously to the front. Should the border army collapse, the smiths left behind in Dangyang would become the seeds for renewal.

Travelling in haste, Zhao Hengyi saw a new side of Song Ying’an. The young lord, usually as curious as a child, now revealed a steady, sharp resolve. Even on the road, he sought out all available reports from the front and drafted plan after plan to stabilize the battalion once he resumed command.

To Zhao Hengyi, Song Ying’an expressed heartfelt delight. Never had he imagined that a young man, raised in a remote village without instruction, could possess such an understanding of military affairs. In the formulation of each plan, Zhao Hengyi’s input proved invaluable; a casual remark would often inspire a new line of thought. Perhaps there truly were those in this world born with innate wisdom.

Heaven has not forsaken me, Song Ying’an thought. With such a worthy brother at my side, I will surely drive back the barbarian hordes!