Chapter 598: Meticulousness

Chapter 598: Chapter 598: Meticulousness

Zuo Yuliang led the central army forward, their target being Wu Lake, which already had a certain foundation of construction.

First it was the slave caravans, then the army’s supply battalion focused on building it up. Now, a relatively complete system of fortifications had formed around Wu Lake. Moreover, several access roads had been carved out; all aspects of coming and going were more convenient than anywhere else.

Most importantly, Wu Lake boasted abundant clean water resources, supplying even several hundred thousand soldiers without any problem.

On the ninth day of the tenth month, Shen Hao arrived at Wu Lake with the army, and once again, what he saw and heard refreshed many of his understandings about the military.

For example, toilets and water use. It was strictly forbidden to relieve oneself in Wu Lake; discovery meant twenty blows with the military rod, and anyone who knew and failed to report it would be punished as if complicit. If one was punished, the whole squad would receive half the penalty as well. Each camp had to dig latrines deep enough according to the number of soldiers—nobody dared to relieve themselves anywhere they pleased.

Only with clean water could the most terrifying thing in the army be avoided: disease.

There were also rats and insects. The physicians compounded several poisons to be sprayed every day in all corners of the camp. Be it rats or mosquitoes, those that managed to survive could call themselves lucky.

Shen Hao asked about this, saying he could understand keeping the water clean, but why exterminate rats and drive out mosquitoes? It wasn’t that he didn’t understand, but he doubted a group who hadn’t even undergone nine years of compulsory education could really grasp the dangers of infectious disease that thoroughly.

The answer he got was: pests carry poison, and places with long habitation rarely have rats or insects—otherwise, they’d pollute the place and make people ill. As for viruses and infectious disease? What are those?

In short, it was all based on experience, not clear insight.

This gave Shen Hao some relief. At least his nine years of compulsory schooling hadn’t gone to waste—if transmigrating here rendered all that study useless, he’d truly be filled with regret.

But what Shen Hao found strange was that even though these army physicians had already concluded that rats and mosquitoes could cause illness, he had never once heard them advocate drinking boiled water. Aside from making tea or on freezing cold days, these people far preferred to gulp down sweet well water or mountain spring water, saying it tasted refreshing.

Boiling water to drink? With weather this hot, wouldn’t boiling water cook you from the inside out? And who can drink hot water in this weather anyway—wait for it to cool down to drink? Pointless!

They had no notion at all of the fundamental difference between drinking raw water and boiled water.

Originally, Shen Hao didn’t want to nag about this sort of thing—it really had nothing to do with him, and he only managed a group of just over three hundred people. Besides, what he said went; no one was in a position nor dared to object. Once he gave the order, all Inspectors in the army drank only boiled water. If they thought it too hot, just boil a big pot at once and let it cool before drinking. It only made a bit more work for the cooks. The others, though a bit unaccustomed, could still put up with it.

Lord Shen really is particular—even with drinking water, he’s so fussy.

Other people’s idle chatter had no effect on Shen Hao at all. Besides, who would dare come ridicule him to his face anyway? Even if looking for death, no one would be so reckless.

It was not until the third day after stationing at Wu Lake that Shen Hao was ordered to attend a military strategy session as an observer near the central army tent...

Shen Hao was an outsider when it came to military affairs. It was only after hearing that he was to be assigned as Inspector to the border army that he hurried to flip through some military texts in the Library, and asked some subordinates who’d served in the military for basic knowledge. By now, though still an outsider, he could understand seventy percent of the strategy discussions held at the border army.

According to Zuo Yuliang’s plan, the line from Jianchuan through White Head Gorge to Hu Zhu Yuan was to be held by solid defense for now—the focus being to withstand the increasingly violent attacks from the Barbarian Race. At the same time, simple fortifications would be constructed along this line to thicken the defenses. In sum, just one word: endure!

The distant supply lines put great pressure on the Jingjiu Dynasty. For now, the supply battalion could barely maintain the army because there were so many storage bags in its possession. Carried by High-Tier Cultivators, with methods like the Divine Travel Talisman to speed up transport to the front lines, supplies could be moved quickly back and forth. Without this, relying solely on horse-drawn wagons, the front-line troops would have all perished by now.

"The Dynasty has known no wars in many years; besides, the Barbarian Territory has been raided by us for so long, it would be hard to answer to Your Majesty and the people if we simply abandoned it. Nor can we willingly hand a land of such vital primordial qi resources to the Barbarians. That would only add fuel to the fire and raise their arrogance. So the early phase will be arduous—gentlemen, I ask you to give it your all."

Zuo Yuliang’s words were not just for the central army’s officers; there were also the leaders of the left and right wings and the reinforcement forces, all gathered in the tent after arriving at Wu Lake with the central army.

Shen Hao sat in the corner of the tent, face stern but eyes lively, pricking up his ears and observing everyone with curiosity.

The officers naturally all rose in unison, cupping fists to pledge themselves to brave all dangers and give their all, no matter the cost. Yet Shen Hao caught clear signs of worry in the eyes of not a few officers present.

He did not know if they were worried about how the battles ahead would unfold, or if they questioned whether Zuo Yuliang’s strategic plan had its flaws.

Shen Hao did not understand military affairs, but he understood people. The expressions on these faces varied, but all were messages, giving Shen Hao much to judge by. Evidently, many did not think much of Zuo Yuliang’s strategy.

Yet, unlike those officers showing worry, Shen Hao did not share their concern. That was because he knew some things they did not—for instance, where had those tens of thousands of troops vanished near Xiaochuan ended up?

Could it be that Zuo Yuliang’s insistence on holding the line from Jianchuan to Hu Zhu Yuan wasn’t just to deny the Barbarians an inch of land, but for some other purpose as well?

After the general strategy was laid out, they did not discuss every detail—it would be pointless anyway, as circumstances could change at any moment. Take action first, adjust as needed later. This, too, was a revelation for Shen Hao; he had always thought that waging war meant planning everything out in advance and then executing blindly. In fact, if you really did it that way, the enemy would play you to death.

Following the delivery of the strategy, the meeting became more like an open forum, with everyone pooling ideas to solve problems and address issues returned from the front line.

The Military Supervisor, who ought to have been the focus, suddenly turned mute, knowing that whatever he said would be contradicted by the Inspector sitting next to him. And with Shen Hao in the tent too, unless he wanted to completely fall out, he had best keep himself in check.

There was definitely frustration and unwillingness bottled up inside, but he had no choice but to swallow it for now.

When the discussion turned to logistics, a Military Supervisor present spoke up, saying that logistical pressure was enormous, and whether for the central army or the front lines, they’d have to tighten their belts and get through this difficult period. He hoped some people in the army who were used to fine living might adjust their habits; firstly, to save resources for important purposes rather than indulging unnecessary finicky habits; secondly, for outward appearances, as it might incite resentment among the soldiers.

At first hearing, it sounded fair and appropriate to the role of Military Supervisor—a gentle "reminder." But on closer inspection, something felt off.

The army’s full of rough men—now, they’re not even allowed to drink alcohol, and who here’s still living the "fine life"? What finicky habits?

The quick-thinking officers all glanced, as if by prior agreement, at the lone figure sitting in the corner. Lately there’d been gossip about that person; if one insisted on calling it a "fine life," it just might fit.