Chapter 85: Hong Chengchou’s Ruthless Cruelty

When Li Yi walked into the courtyard where the wounded had been placed, two robust young men fully armed stood guard at the entrance.

Blood splattered their clothes, and compared to their usual honest demeanor, their expressions now held a steely determination. Their eyes were sharp as they surveyed their surroundings, hands resting on their sword hilts, exuding a fierce aura.

It seemed this battle had forged the militia youths anew.

Having witnessed the cruelty of the battlefield, they now bore the bearing of seasoned soldiers.

As Li Yi approached, the young men straightened up with reverence.

Li Yi smiled and nodded, then entered the courtyard.

Inside the spacious yard, members of the Youth Watch and some young men were busy tending to the wounded.

The entire courtyard was packed with casualties; inside the rooms, severely injured men cried out in pain, while lighter wounds saw some reclining beneath the eaves.

Blood stained the ground everywhere, soaked linen cast aside without care.

Though victory was achieved, the price paid was steep.

The greatest losses fell upon the garrison soldiers.

Of the four hundred men, fewer than fifty remained unscathed, with nearly four hundred either dead or wounded, most now lying on makeshift doors, screaming as the youths stitched their wounds.

Gao Xiaojia crouched beside a door plank, before him a wounded man's arm bore a deep gash exposing bone.

He first cleansed the wound with boiled, cooled water. Two women held the man down firmly, and Gao Xiaojia produced needle and thread, proceeding to stitch.

The mangled wound bled dark red, but Gao Xiaojia's hands were steady and nimble, swiftly suturing the flesh. In moments, the wound was sealed.

The women assisting quickly took cotton balls soaked in distilled spirits, wiped the edges of the bloody wound, applied medicinal powder, and bound it with linen.

This was a simple battlefield first aid procedure.

Through his lessons in the ancestral hall, Li Yi not only imparted knowledge but also taught skills to the youths.

Battlefield first aid was of utmost importance.

Li Yi glanced at the women helping, surprised that these captives of the Tartars now stood to assist.

He toured the various rooms, satisfied to see the Youth Watch treating wounds with practiced skill.

War, indeed, was the best catalyst, forging not only the militia but also making the youths resilient and dependable.

The wounded watched Li Yi enter with awe in their eyes.

Li Yi’s valor and strength in this battle had left a deep impression, winning their respect.

Seeing a soldier cry out as spirits were applied to his wound, Li Yi stepped forward, took the cotton ball, and cleaned the injury himself.

The wounded garrison soldier, seeing Li Yi tending to him, bit back his pain in silence.

Li Yi carefully disinfected, applied powder, and bandaged the wound, advising, “Keep the wound dry, change the dressing daily. In less than half a month, it should scab over.”

The soldier nodded awkwardly.

After a moment, he couldn’t help but ask, “Sir, will we really receive our reward money?”

Li Yi paused, looked at him, and replied, “Of course. I promised you, even if the official authorities refuse, you can come to me. Do you not trust me?”

The soldier shook his head vigorously, “If the officials say it, I don’t believe a word. But I believe you.”

Another middle-aged soldier spoke up, “Inspector, please don’t be angry. We risked our lives not expecting to survive, only hoping to leave some silver for our families.”

“That’s right, this battle was fierce. Without silver, we can’t even afford treatment for our wounds.”

The soldiers all spoke up, their willingness to fight was for the promise of silver in exchange for their lives.

Li Guo, standing nearby, scolded angrily, “What are you shouting for? You risked your lives, but so did my master. The reward for battle is an official promise—if you want silver, you should demand it from them.”

Li Yi waved, stopping Li Guo, and said to the soldiers, “Rest assured, though I am no high official, my word is my bond. The silver will reach your hands.”

Hearing this, the men were immediately reassured.

If it were any other official, they would never feel secure until the silver was in hand.

But Li Yi’s promise carried weight with them.

Having comforted these impoverished garrison soldiers, Li Yi entered a small room.

Inside lay several military officers; Liu Zongmin was wrapped in linen, resting in bed.

The continuous fighting seemed to have stirred Liu Zongmin’s inner ferocity; in the last engagement, he led the charge with his blade, fighting valiantly.

The price was a body full of wounds.

“How are your injuries?” Li Yi hurried over, seeing Liu Zongmin wrapped head to toe, and quickly asked.

Liu Zongmin struggled to turn his head toward Li Yi, forcing a smile, “Just a few minor wounds. No need to worry, Captain.”

Li Yi’s tone grew serious, “Battlefield combat requires coordinated ranks. Rushing forward with courage alone is unwise. Have you forgotten the purpose behind training the militia formations?”

Liu Zongmin replied honestly, “In the moment, I only thought of killing the enemy and lost my head.”

Li Yi sighed, “Zongmin, from today’s results, you are a capable commander in battle. But reckless bravery leads to impulsiveness, making one merely a fierce warrior. To be a true general, one must strategize and fight with courage. Your path is long—consider whether you wish to be merely brave or truly capable.”

“Brave or capable?” Liu Zongmin paused, pondering these words.

Seeing Liu Zongmin was not seriously injured, Li Yi left the room.

Historically, Liu Zongmin was Li Zicheng’s foremost general—fierce in battle, but hot-tempered and impulsive. Li Yi hoped his advice today would temper his character.

As Li Yi reflected, the sound of hooves suddenly came from outside.

Before he could exit the courtyard, Li Zicheng dismounted, followed by Gao Yigong, both rushing over.

“Yi, something terrible has happened.”

---

Li Yi supported the exhausted Li Zicheng and quickly asked, “What’s happened? Did you see Hong Chengchou?”

Li Zicheng nodded, “I went to see Hong Chengchou. When he heard that Sui Jin Town had been held, he showed no joy. I explained the urgent need for reward money and provisions, but Hong Chengchou evaded, saying it required Ministry of War review, not under the Grain Inspector’s office.”

Li Yi’s face darkened; he recognized the excuses.

He couldn’t understand—holding Sui Jin Town meant the grain stored in Mizhi County was safe, a boon for Hong Chengchou.

So why did such merit bring no joy, nor willingness to issue rewards?

“How about the county office? The Imperial Inspector? Any news from them?” Li Yi asked.

Li Zicheng sighed, “The Imperial Inspector refused to see me. Yan Zibin, the county magistrate, was happy to hear Sui Jin Town was saved, but he wouldn’t take responsibility for reward money. He only warned us to stay vigilant, fearing the Tartars might return.”

“That’s expected. The Imperial Inspector oversees official corruption and judicial errors, not war. We repelled the Tartars, sparing Mizhi County from disaster. Yan Zibin, as the local official, naturally reaps the benefit.”

“So, Yi, who is to provide the reward money we promised the garrison soldiers? The Grain Inspector and county both refuse. If we wait for the Ministry of War review, it will be too late.” Li Zicheng sounded worried.

Li Yi didn’t answer, instead gazing at the pitch-black night, thinking.

Hong Chengchou’s reaction was too strange. Since the burning of the document archive, he seemed to have changed—standing by as Mizhi County was besieged, blocking garrison support, and abandoning Shi Kefa.

What was hidden in all this?

Li Yi had too little information; without Shi Kefa’s guidance, he couldn’t grasp the officialdom’s intricacies.

At this moment, Gao Yigong, standing by, suddenly spoke, “Yi, I have a letter for you from Shi Kefa. He sent it before being detained by the Imperial Inspector, instructing me to deliver it to you.”

Li Yi’s spirits lifted at the news. He needed intelligence, and hadn’t expected Shi Kefa to anticipate this and leave a letter.

He quickly opened it, grateful for his recent study of traditional script—he could roughly understand its meaning.

Shi Kefa first apologized, saying he’d failed Li Yi’s trust, unable to secure enough money and provisions for the front.

He then explained that the burning of the archive was certainly the work of the Ai family, who were now in contact with Hong Chengchou. He warned Li Yi to be wary.

Finally, he stated that the new Three Borders Governor, Yang He, would soon take office. If Hong Chengchou allied with the Ai family, only Yang He could protect Li Yi. Shi Kefa urged Li Yi to take his followers and seek out Yang He.

Clearly, after the archive was burned, Shi Kefa had foreseen what would happen next.

He must have seen through Hong Chengchou’s deep, cunning nature, writing specifically to warn Li Yi.

As Li Yi pondered, distant flames suddenly appeared.

Climbing to a vantage point, he saw several blazes growing in the direction of Mizhi County, visible even from many miles away.

“Brother Gao, you’ve stayed in Mizhi County for long—where is that fire?” Li Yi asked.

Gao Yigong looked, then confirmed, “Judging by the location, it’s outside the city. Such large fires must be from the grain warehouses.”

Grain warehouses?

Seeing this, Li Yi suddenly understood everything.

No wonder Hong Chengchou turned a blind eye to Sui Jin Town, abandoning Shi Kefa and himself.

“So this was his plan all along.”

Li Zicheng was reading the letter; hearing this, he asked, “What do you mean?”

Li Yi sneered, “With the archive burned, Hong Chengchou’s plan to leverage military farmland against the gentry fell through. So he played a trick—using the Tartar invasion, he burned the grain warehouses, shifting blame for the loss onto the Tartars.”

“Hong Chengchou burned the warehouses? Wasn’t he desperately raising provisions? Why destroy them?” Li Zicheng was puzzled.

Li Yi explained, “There are eight grain warehouses outside Mizhi County. Before burning them, he can switch out the grain—replace it with spoiled old rice. Once the fire starts, all the grain is counted as lost. The real provisions remain with Hong Chengchou. Afterwards, he can produce them, claiming credit for swiftly supplying the army. This way, he not only replenishes fifty thousand stones of grain, but also keeps several thousand for profit—a double win.”

In a few words, Li Yi laid bare Hong Chengchou’s scheme.

“But hold on—the Imperial Inspector is in Mizhi County. Even if Hong Chengchou is bold, how could he do this in front of the Inspector?” Gao Yigong said gravely.

“Imperial Inspector Liu Zhongzhou.”

Li Yi smiled coldly, “The Imperial Inspector, meant to check abuses for the emperor. But Liu Zhongzhou holds weaknesses that Hong Chengchou has exploited; he wouldn’t dare interfere. He’s likely already complicit.”

Li Zicheng and Gao Yigong were shocked. They hadn’t expected Hong Chengchou, believed a clean and upright official, to be so ruthless.

And the revered Imperial Inspector had become an accomplice.

Only Li Yi understood—Hong Chengchou was never a good man.

He was ruthless and calculating. If Shi Kefa was useful, he acted like a patron. But when Shi Kefa became a hindrance, he discarded him without mercy.

As for Li Yi, Hong Chengchou likely never expected him to hold Sui Jin Town.

In his plans, Li Yi should have died gloriously.

But not only did Li Yi survive, he successfully defended Sui Jin Town and defeated the Tartar cavalry.

With that, the narrative of Tartars besieging Mizhi County and burning the grain warehouses fell apart.

A trace of mockery appeared on Li Yi’s face.

Now the situation was amusing indeed.

Hong Chengchou—a single lie demands hundreds more to cover it. Can you keep up?

“Yi, since Shi Kefa advised us to seek out the new Three Borders Governor Yang He, let’s depart at once,” Li Zicheng proposed.

Li Yi looked back toward Sui Jin Town, smiling, “Before we go, there’s one thing left to do.”

“What’s that?” Li Zicheng asked.

“Distribute the reward money.”

Li Zicheng understood, “The reward money and provisions? With the officials refusing, what can we do?”

Li Yi smiled, “Who says we lack sufficient reward money?”

---

Li Zicheng stared at Li Yi in surprise, “Where will we get money and provisions?”

Li Yi pointed toward the Tartar camp, “Isn’t it right there?”

The living will never let themselves die of thirst.

Several hundred heroes had defeated over a thousand well-equipped Tartar cavalry at Sui Jin Town, protecting tens of thousands in Mizhi County and suffering grave losses.

Li Yi would never let them shed blood and tears for nothing.

With Hong Chengchou burning bridges, the county and Imperial Inspector indifferent, Li Yi had no more reservations.

He immediately ordered Gao Jie to gather everyone.

Except for the gravely wounded, all assembled in an open space.

Several large cauldrons were set up. Gao Jie, surrounded by clouds of steam, wielded a meat knife, dividing pork and bones.

Fist-sized chunks of meat were tossed into pots, followed by chopped radish, oil, and salt. The broth boiled, wafting rich aromas across the crowd.

Two or three hundred men gathered, eyes fixed on the baked flatbread and fragrant meat soup, their mouths watering.

At last, the soup was ready and the bread baked. The Youth Watch and townsfolk distributed the food.

Each received two pieces of bread brushed with pork fat and a large bowl of meat soup—this was their meal.

These garrison soldiers hadn’t seen a drop of oil in ages; faced with such delicacies, they devoured it ravenously.

The women kept baking bread, and the soup kept boiling—there was more than enough.

Li Yi and Gao Jie sat at a table, drinking cellar-found spirits and eating roast chicken.

The chicken was golden and aromatic, each man with a whole bird, tearing and eating hungrily.

Li Yi, famished, tore off a drumstick, ate, then soaked bread in the soup.

After everyone had eaten their fill, Li Yi rose and walked before the crowd.

Gao Jie and Gao Honest stood solemnly at his side.

Those who survived the great battle turned their eyes toward them.

The howling wind swept up snow, swirling through the night.

Li Yi surveyed the scene—where once six or seven hundred men stood, now only this handful remained.

The garrison soldiers, having suffered the worst, were all sturdy men of the northwest, their clothes ragged, faces wan, lacking even proper weapons.

Yet now their faces bore a fierceness, and their eyes held dignity—the baptism of war had transformed them from sheep grazing on grass to wild wolves.

In the cold, dark night, the biting wind, Li Yi saw their determined eyes. He understood—they would never again live in meekness. Steel in their hands had taught them that everything must be fought for.

“Grain Inspector Hong Chengchou and County Magistrate Yan Zibin have spoken—they refuse to issue reward silver.”

Li Yi wasted no words, addressing the most pressing concern.

The crowd’s eyes instantly sharpened, and Li Yi could see murder in many gazes.

Several hot-tempered men stood and shouted, “These dog officials! They promised twenty taels for joining the fight, ten per enemy killed—how can they go back on their word?”

“When have officials ever kept their word? They lord over us every day. We should storm Mizhi County and force them to give us silver.”

“Right, none of these officials are honest. Their lies have ruined us—without reward, we’ll fight them for it.”

“These officials are worthless. Inspector Li, if you lead us, we’ll take up arms and march on the county. We may be wounded, but we’ve still got blood in our veins.”

Li Yi waved his hand, and the previously chaotic scene fell silent.

Even the most hot-headed men, meeting Li Yi’s gaze, quietly sat down.

“The Tartars have invaded, and garrison soldiers from all Yan’an Prefecture are heading to Mizhi County. If you mutiny now, not only will you lose reward silver, but you’ll be suppressed, even face imprisonment.”

Faces fell as the men lowered their heads in despair.

If the officials truly refused payment, their blood was spilled in vain. So many comrades died for a bit of silver for their families, only to gain nothing.

Their hearts were bitter, their eyes filled with hatred for the authorities.

Li Yi understood their frustration and pain.

If their families weren’t starving, who would willingly risk their lives in battle?

He changed his tone, “Brothers, don’t lose heart. I promised Old Tiger Lei—if the officials refuse, I’ll pay. Whoever stays will receive twenty taels each, ten more for every Tartar killed. I will make sure every man gets his silver.”

Those who had lost hope looked up.

They gazed at Li Yi—some with surprise, some with doubt.

“Bring it up.”

At Li Yi’s command, several young men brought carts.

They climbed onto the wagons and opened the chests.

Inside, piles of silver and jewelry gleamed in the firelight, dazzling to behold.

Now everyone believed Li Yi’s promise.

A camp officer stepped forward, eyeing the blood-stained jewelry, and frowned, “Sir, these must be spoils of war.”

Li Yi met his gaze and nodded.

The soldier quickly cautioned, “Sir, dividing spoils is a grave offense. You defeated the Tartar cavalry—now is your chance for great reward, but don’t risk it for this. Don’t ruin your bright future.”

Only then did the crowd realize—Li Yi was sharing the spoils with them.