......
"Woo woo woo..."
"Woo woo woo..."
The wind outside the house sounded like a child crying, or like a female ghost singing.
It was a very mournful cry.
It made people feel uneasy.
The soldiers in the barracks, who should have been frightened and fearful upon hearing this sound, were completely preoccupied at the moment.
They were listening to a story.
A young soldier was reminiscing about the past and looking forward to the future.
The story was ordinary; it was about fighting the local landlord, distributing grain and land to everyone, and working together in the fields and training together. Whenever there was a need, they would step up, but at home, they had fields, land, and wives, and they were willing to go...
......
The style of storytelling was something Jiang Feng started when he took command of the troops.
He continued this practice all the way from the Capital City to the border.
He selected soldiers from the Jingzhou training camp to tell stories, while also privately giving lectures to the more intelligent young men in the new units.
In a world where literacy was rare, knowledge was monopolized by the upper class, and knowledge was as precious as private property, passed down only within families,
Jiang Feng implemented a systematic theoretical education.
He initiated a storm of ideas and propaganda, the effects of which were akin to a pyramid scheme.
It struck at the heart and soul, making people tremble from head to toe.
Everyone was like a chicken pumped with adrenaline, becoming more energetic and excited with each step.
As they marched, they continuously reorganized the troops and purified their thoughts.
By the time they reached the border, even Old General Meng was shocked.
When did their country have such a formidable army? Were they drugged?
Each of them looked unnaturally excited and enthusiastic.
In the past, when troops arrived at the border, they had to execute a couple of deserters to instill fear and keep the rest in line.
There was no other way.
The border was too harsh.
Without killing a few, the morale would collapse before any battles were fought.
It was cruel but normal.
Because it had always been this way.
Only through war, each time risking life and death, fighting together, and surviving together, could one become a steadfast warrior and comrade, and grow stronger continuously.
Death was the most effective training.
To forge a powerful army, two-thirds of the troops would be lost.
Out of ten thousand soldiers, only three thousand might remain, and these three thousand could truly be called warriors.
Old General Meng himself had come through countless life-and-death experiences.
That was how he had his current troops.
But the current troops, before even engaging in battle,
Why did they have such a frenzied fighting spirit, as if they were the noblemen in the city who took drugs, feeling no pain or cold?
However, drugs were extremely expensive, costing more than gold, and could not be used on a large scale.
Moreover, those who took drugs were rendered useless after just a couple of uses; they would need to continue taking drugs to maintain their sanity, otherwise, they would go mad, even losing control of their bladder and bowels.
The nobility, too bored, indulged in the momentary clarity of mind from taking drugs, hoping to write poems that would be passed down through the ages, and in the strong body and powerful heartbeat during the drug's effect, thinking they had taken elixirs of immortality, when in fact, they were merely exhausting their lives.
This army in front of them, each member seemed like they had taken drugs, their eyes feverish and excited.
Not a single one showed any signs of lethargy.
Even eating cold, hard coarse buns, they devoured them with relish, with no one complaining.
Old General Meng was a bit panicked.
Was this normal?
This was not normal.
It defied human nature.
Traveling thousands of miles away from home, fighting unknown enemies, risking their lives at any moment, yet still so excited, so determined, so unwavering.
Were these people under a spell?
Old General Meng asked his grandson what was going on.
Meng Shaoxia had been with them the entire way, witnessing everything, and it was hard to put into words.
He was in charge of leading the troops, while Jiang Feng was responsible for the ideological work.
At first, the ideological work was not easy.
But after Jiang Feng demonstrated his formidable martial prowess and warned everyone that ideological work could also be deadly, everyone became much more obedient.
Old General Meng had previously sent his grandson away to avoid trouble, staying away from the affairs of the royal family's princes, but now, instead of avoiding trouble, he had ended up in the royal family.
His grandson had married the granddaughter of Princess Huiyun, making them one family.
Old General Meng met Jiang Feng.
Through correspondence with his grandson, he was already quite familiar with Jiang Feng.
But meeting in person, he found him different.
Shaoxia said he had extraordinary martial arts skills, and although he felt he was making rapid progress, he always lost when he sparred with his brother-in-law.
Moreover, the person with the highest martial arts skills in the family, he suspected, was his mother-in-law.
This might be a family trait, and Old General Meng was curious about what kind of background his in-laws had.
But seeing Jiang Feng, he looked quite honest and simple, except for a scar on his forehead, which made him look a bit different.
Meng Shaoxia told Old General Meng about their journey and how they led the troops, leaving the old general stunned and unable to sleep that night, feeling old.
He had always thought that the world could not do without him.
Now, he felt both lost and comforted, realizing that the future might not need him, that he was not so important, but comforted that their country had gained formidable military strength, and its development would become even stronger.
The situation at the border was very good.
Although there were casualties,
And it was discovered that there were traitors.
But the spread of ideas was faster than the traitors' collusion.
The enemy even suspected if there was a trap.
Was someone deliberately feeding them information to lure them into a trap? How could there be a group of soldiers who were not afraid of death, who were excited even when injured?
They had originally planned to take advantage of the internal strife in the Chu Kingdom and reap the benefits.
But now, it felt like they had been deceived.
Deceived into being killed.
Those soldiers were fearless, shouting before death:
"I die without regret for the Five Rivers!"
"Next life, let's fight again at Lishan!"
"The Wangs of Capital City are not disgraced!"
Each one charged forward bravely, their battle cries fierce and chaotic.
......
This time, although Minister Lu was not present, the supply of food still encountered various accidents.
Fortunately, Inspector He made a significant contribution, and the He Family had been well-prepared.
The war situation was very favorable.
But according to the previous agreement,
The letters sent to the Capital City to report the situation were still increasingly severe.
And the channels for sending these letters were controlled by someone.
One by one, the severe letters of distress were replaced with letters of good news.
The Seventh Prince went to the palace to visit his father.
Shortly after, the Ninth Prince also arrived.
Then came the good news from the border.
Great joy, great victory!
The Emperor, lying on his sickbed, looked flushed, as if infused with spiritual vigor, greedily reading the good news.
Eunuch Yan returned, taking over Eunuch Duan's position.
He did not mind the old and decaying smell emanating from the Emperor's aged body.
The two princes, both dutiful sons, stood by the bedside.
They all smelled the strange odor.
It was a stench.
There could not be any hygiene dead spots in the palace.
The floors were spotless.
The stench came from their father's body.
The smell of an old man.
The scent of a rotting tree, on the verge of collapse.
"Good, very good!"
"Cough cough cough."
The Emperor coughed violently, his whole body shaking.
Eunuch Yan immediately handed him a handkerchief.
One hand patted the Emperor's back, the other took the handkerchief, wrapped the Emperor's phlegm, and tucked it back into his clothes.
The Seventh Prince and the Ninth Prince both saw the crimson on the handkerchief, saw their father's trembling body.
The Ninth Prince's eyes were red, the Seventh Prince directly weeping.
"Father."
"Father."
The Emperor reached out and grabbed both sons' hands, one in each.
The Emperor held the Seventh Prince's hand, his son's hand was strong but not warm, cold and clammy.
The Ninth Prince's hand was warm.
"Tomorrow is New Year's Day, I'm afraid I won't last long, tomorrow we'll have a family banquet, bring your children, let me see them, I won't have any regrets, I, have important matters to announce." The Emperor's hand was trembling as he spoke.
The Ninth Prince was stunned.
The Seventh Prince wailed.
"Father, I don't want to hear it, I don't want it, I have no ambitions, I only wish Father would look at me more, I don't want anything, I just hope to be by Father's side."
In the antique shelf of the hall, the previously drowned flowers had been replaced, new flowers, bright and gorgeous, silently watched the scene before them.
......
