Chapter 91: Let the Performance Begin

The three lieutenants now looked at Wang Keyue in a completely different way. Their eyes widened, mouths half agape—good heavens! Could this white-bearded old man truly be an immortal? With just a few soft coughs, he frightened their leader into silence.

“All right, Vice Lieutenant Bai, you speak!” Xiao Hongyu, unnerved by their stares, pointed his rifle at the next officer. How could someone with wheat-colored skin have such a surname?

Vice Lieutenant Bai, his skin dark, was called upon. He clasped his hands and replied, “General, at present, our army’s grain reserves are nearly depleted. The soldiers have survived on thin porridge for days. Furthermore, winter will arrive in two months, and the cotton clothing and bedding for our troops have yet to be delivered.”

Vice Lieutenant Bai spoke with deep worry. He was in charge of the logistics team, and lately they had all been coming to him, complaining of shortages. He was so troubled that he cursed under his breath.

“This year’s severe drought has left the entire Beiping Commandery starved and desolate. Not long ago, a plague swept through Beiping, affecting our own County of Kangle. Many villages nearby have been completely wiped out,” Xiao Hongyu said.

The three men below were visibly shocked. They knew about the drought in Beiping, of course—after all, it was the northern frontier of the Great Qin Empire, and droughts were not uncommon. But they hadn’t anticipated that, on top of the drought, there would be the terror of an epidemic.

“So don’t pin your hopes on supplies from Beiping!” Xiao Hongyu shattered their last illusion.

“General, is our County of Kangle still safe?” asked the burly man with a beard, his expression cautious. They cared little for Beiping’s fate—what mattered was the wellbeing of their home, Kangle County.

More than half the soldiers here hailed from Kangle and its surrounding villages. They simply hoped their hometowns remained healthy behind them; only then did their efforts have meaning.

“Rest assured! All is well. Kangle County was fortunate enough to have a skilled physician arrive in time. His prescriptions were precise—not only did he save my life, but he also rescued the entire city’s populace!” Xiao Hongyu spoke, his gaze shifting to Wang Keyue.

At last! Let the performance begin!

Wang Keyue straightened his posture and faced the three pairs of keen, expectant eyes.

“This is Doctor Wang. He trained in the Maoshan Daoist tradition, his medical skills are extraordinary, and he is versed in mystical arts. I have already become his disciple. This venerable gentleman is now my master. From now on, when you see him, show proper respect,” Xiao Hongyu declared, then rose and bowed deeply to Wang Keyue.

“Master, your unworthy disciple regrets having made you endure the hardships of travel. Please rest here in comfort; all matters can wait until your health is fully restored,” he said.

Wang Keyue hadn’t expected Xiao, the young man, to diverge so completely from the script.

“My disciple’s arrangements will suffice,” Wang Keyue replied, his voice sonorous and full of vigor—nothing at all like an old man worn down by travel, but rather like a sage of great renown.

“I will prepare a meal for Master at once,” Xiao Hongyu continued the act.

“Very well.” Wang Keyue nodded, his pale blue robe swirling as he waved his sleeve before the assembled men. Suddenly, several large sacks of grain appeared on the once-empty ground, along with pork and even some fresh vegetables. Good heavens! The three big men below were so stunned by this miraculous bounty that they didn’t dare move for a long while.

“This is but a minor Daoist technique—no need for such amazement! Disciple, take these and prepare them for everyone. Let us all eat together and make merry. Once my powers are restored tomorrow, I shall lend you my aid,” Wang Keyue said, stroking his long white beard with casual indifference.

“Thank you, Master!” Xiao Hongyu clasped his hands in salute, while the three men, still dumbfounded, finally began to recover. Their lips twitched as if they were silently mouthing the word “immortal.”

Though speechless, their actions were prompt. All three dropped to one knee and saluted the old sage before them.

“Come now! Let my master rest for a while,” Xiao Hongyu said, seeing their newfound humility and awe. Especially Xiao Fang, who earlier had worn a scowl; now his face was drained of color, his square jaw pale with fright.

Even Xiao Bai, whose wheat-colored skin was now a shade paler from shock.

Xiao Hongyu, pleased with his own performance, led the three men out of the main tent. He handed the supplies to Xiao Bai, saying, “Go! Prepare a feast, and tonight, come to my tent for a ceremony!”

Xiao Bai’s almond-shaped eyes curved into a smile as he took the provisions with both hands, reverently. These were gifts from an immortal—perhaps eating them would grant longevity?

With that thought, he carried the supplies off to arrange the meals with his logistics crew.

The other two watched Xiao Bai’s retreating figure, and for the first time, found themselves envying him. In the camp, Xiao Bai had always been the least experienced, so the unwanted logistics duty had fallen to him by default. Never did they imagine they would envy the logistics officer one day.

“Come, let’s check on the wounded soldiers.” In recent battles with the Qiang and Hu tribes, though they had repelled every invasion, their losses had been tremendous.

At the rear of the camp stood several tents, housing the wounded and the army medics. Some elderly veterans were also stationed there to care for the injured.

Those whose conditions improved and were still fit for battle stayed in the barracks.

Those missing limbs or unable to care for themselves were sent home, with a subsidy of five hundred coins each.

The severely wounded or those who died were cremated in the nearby cemetery. Their wooden name plaques were sent back to their families, along with a silver tael for each fallen soldier.

Such is the fragility of life—treated as expendable grass.