Fang Hetong led Wei Yuan into a small ancestral hall in the village. It had already been repurposed, with a square table set in the center bearing a map.
Wei Yuan glanced at the map and immediately saw it was hand-drawn, depicting the terrain surrounding Quyang County. The map was drawn in meticulous detail, clearly marking even small streams and hillocks. The brushwork was excellent, with deliberate finesse evident in every stroke.
Fang Hetong invited Wei Yuan to take a seat, and the two exchanged names.
Fang Hetong hailed from a small sect in the commandery known as the White Maple Academy. Thirty-eight years of age, he had spent over twenty years of grueling effort before finally forging a Dao Foundation. The academy only had its headmaster who had barely cultivated a dharma idol, while the remaining seven or eight Dao Foundation members had no hope of advancing any further—a quintessential minor sect. Had Bianning Commandery not been situated on the frontier, constantly harassed by foreign tribes and so sparsely populated that no one wished to come, White Maple Academy would never have attained the status of a fourth-class sect.
Seeing Fang Hetong made Wei Yuan truly appreciate the deep heritage of the Palace of Grand Beginning. In the palace, Mortal Tier Dao Foundations were virtually nonexistent, Earth Tier ones were derided as trash by some, and only Heaven Tier could earn a second glance from the sect. To truly command respect, one had to start at the level of a rare Heaven Tier like Yan Ming.
At White Maple Academy, only the headmaster possessed an Earth Tier Dao Foundation; the rest were all Mortal Tier. With no worthy juniors rising up, once the headmaster passed away, they would surely be stripped of their fourth-class sect standing.
Wei Yuan himself had cultivated painstakingly for ten years without forging a Dao Foundation, placing him firmly at the bottom of the Palace of Grand Beginning. Yet Fang Hetong, who had spent over twenty years to forge a Mortal Tier Dao Foundation, was considered above average within White Maple Academy. In combat strength, however, Wei Yuan had defeated Xu Du of the Earth Tier back when his muscle tempering was merely completed; after achieving Blood Merging, he could reliably best Mortal Tier Dao Foundation cultivators wielding magical artifacts. And as he was now, unless Xu Du could equip Bao Yun's entire set of gear, he wouldn't survive a single exchange with Wei Yuan.
After they exchanged names, someone brought over a cup and a bowl. Fang Hetong said, "Junior Brother Wei has traveled a long way and must be hungry. We truly have nothing decent to offer here, so please make do."
The cup held water, far from clear, with sediment settled at the bottom and a yellowish tint. The bowl held coarse brown rice topped with a few wild vegetables that had been steamed alongside it.
Just then, a curse echoed from outside: "We marched dozens of li on foot thinking we'd get a decent meal when we got here, and then you serve us this swill? Even dogs wouldn't touch it!"
In a flash, Wei Yuan was outside the ancestral hall. He saw one of the garrison troops who had come with him—a scoundrel in his early twenties—raising his wooden bowl, about to dash it against the ground.
Before Wei Yuan could intervene, an older garrison soldier with graying hair grabbed the young man's wrist. The young soldier felt as though his arm were clamped in an iron vise; with the slightest twitch, his bones began to crunch. Crying out in pain, he screamed, "Ow! What are you doing? You're breaking my bones!"
The old soldier grunted coldly. "This is Mister Fang's ground! Everything in your bowl was pinched straight from Mister Fang's own mouth! If you drop a single grain of rice, you'll pick it up and eat it!"
The young soldier didn't dare say another word. Slumping back onto the steps in sullen resentment, he muttered to himself, "I'm new here, alright? How was I supposed to know Mister Fang was here..."
Fang Hetong emerged from the ancestral hall as well and greeted several veteran garrison soldiers. Though they usually looked like rowdy, slack soldiers, before him every single one stood ramrod straight, carrying an air of grim discipline. Wei Yuan had not expected Fang Hetong to hold such high prestige among these ruffian garrison troops.
The two returned to the ancestral hall. Fang Hetong gave a wry smile. "To tell you the truth, we were supposed to run out of grain days ago. We've had to distribute half of normal rations these past few days just to scrape by until now."
Wei Yuan had seen their hardship, but he had not imagined they were on the brink of starvation. Western Jin had suffered no natural disasters, so how could the very front line be out of food?
Fang Hetong asked with a look of hope, "Junior Brother Wei, having arrived here, did you bring any word regarding the military pay?"
"Military pay?" Wei Yuan was taken aback again.
Before this expedition, the palace had explicitly briefed them that all provisions and military pay for the soldiers were the responsibility of Western Jin. Of course, those who brought their own retainers and servants had to pay out of their own pockets. Thus, Wei Yuan had not asked when requisitioning troops, and Wang Delu had made no mention of military pay whatsoever.
"Have you not received pay all this time? Aren't those men outside militiamen?" Wei Yuan asked in surprise.
Upon entering the village, Wei Yuan had noticed that most people in Shayang Village were men, with only a few able-bodied women and elders handling logistical chores. According to Western Jin's military system, males between twelve and fifty-five were subject to conscription, with sixty considered the threshold of old age. Furthermore, these men bore traces of cultivation to varying degrees. Though they had not trained for long—the best among them had tempered only twenty percent of his muscles—they were already distinct from ordinary folk. Ordinary farmers did not practice Body Casting.
Militiamen farmed during peacetime and received half-pay according to border army standards once drafted. Under Great Tang's military system, border troops were regular soldiers, distinct from local county garrison troops. Thus, the half-pay of a militiaman was roughly equivalent to eighty percent of a garrison soldier's pay.
Wang Delu had said he would allocate additional militiamen to Wei Yuan. Wei Yuan assumed that meant the three hundred or so men in the village. Initially, seeing that they all had traces of body refinement, he had been quite pleased. But listening to Fang Hetong now, they had not received a copper of their pay.
This was wartime, and this was the very front line of defense. By rights, the court should have allocated rations and military pay long ago. To dare withhold rations and pay during wartime was courting mutiny at best—and rebellion to overthrow the dynasty at worst.
Seeing Wei Yuan's expression, Fang Hetong understood. He sighed, "In fact, I heard rumors that the court's military funds have already reached the county—a full two hundred thousand taels. I thought that when you arrived, Junior Brother Wei, you might bring the pay along with you. But I never imagined... Ah! It breaks my heart for these brothers outside. They've followed me for three months, risking their lives through seven or eight battles, with more than thirty killed, yet they haven't received a single copper of pay. And who knows when the death compensations will ever arrive."
"Do not fret, Mister Fang. I brought some supplies with me this time."
Wei Yuan recalled the three crates of military supplies he had carried over, which could resolve their pressing crisis. He hauled the three crates to the center of the room and opened them one by one.
Each crate was an iron chest measuring a foot on each side. Though small in appearance, each weighed around a hundred jin. Upon opening them, two crates were revealed to be packed neatly with dried meat rations. These dried meats were specialized rations crafted by the Palace of Grand Beginning, each strip no larger than a finger. When soaked in water, they dissolved into rich broth, keeping a person fed for an entire day. Even a burly man accomplished in Body Casting needed only two strips to last a full day.
The other crate contained water purification pills as well as various medicines for curing pestilence and treating wounds. Dropping a single water purification pill into a large vat of water made it safe to drink without worry. For a well, merely three pills were needed to provide clean water for an entire day.
Two crates of rations and one of medicine—a very sensible arrangement, sufficient to sustain a hundred-man force in combat for half a month. Yet Wei Yuan suddenly thought of something: while the Palace of Grand Beginning had claimed that all rations and pay would be provided by the local authorities, they had simultaneously issued three crates of supplies to each disciple, mandating that they carry them to their assigned defense sector without discarding them along the way. It seemed the Masters above had possessed foresight regarding what they would encounter.
Seeing the three crates of supplies, Fang Hetong's hands trembled. Grasping Wei Yuan by the arms, he stammered repeatedly, "Charcoal in the snow! This is truly charcoal in the snow!"
As he spoke, the eyes of this man in his late thirties reddened, and a few tears spilled unbidden down his cheeks.
Wei Yuan hurriedly offered words of comfort and helped Fang Hetong to a seat. Wiping away his tears with his sleeve, Fang Hetong sighed, "I've made a fool of myself before you, Junior Brother. It is just that these past few months have been too difficult."
After calming down a little, Fang Hetong asked hesitantly, "I know these are military rations and shouldn't be diverted to other purposes. But these brothers outside have fought for months without seeing a single grain of rations or a coin of pay. Some already have elderly kin who starved to death at home. If possible... could we spare a little for their families?"
"Of course!" Wei Yuan agreed without hesitation.
Fang Hetong abruptly rose and bowed deeply to Wei Yuan, saying, "On behalf of the elders and folk here, I thank Brother Wei!" His body shuddered as he moved to drop to his knees.
Wei Yuan caught him at once and supported him, offering reassuring words until he finally managed to calm the man in his late thirties down.
Chapter 66