You are also precious
The north wind blew up snow foam and blew across the post road like a knife.
Three thousand cavalrymen, including their horses, formed a long, silent gray dragon, winding their way persistently northward on the frozen mud and snow.
Niu Zhuang was among them.
He was wrapped in a thick but slightly bulky fur coat, riding on a tall green horse, with his head tucked in and his mouth closed, not saying much. He was not like this when he just left Mingzhou City.
At that time, he held his chest high and everything he saw was new, as if what he was standing on was not a post road, but a ladder leading directly to fame and honor. He was the strongest laborer in the village and had plenty of strength, so why should he be afraid of the barbarians from Western Qiang?
He even secretly thought that he might be able to be like the brave general described by the storyteller, chop off the enemy chief's head and return home in glory.
But the journey got longer and longer, and we were getting farther and farther away from home. The surrounding scenery lost its initial brightness, leaving only a suffocating gray.
While camping at night, everyone gathered around the campfire and talked in low voices. Those few words about the ferocity of the Western Qiang people quietly lingered in Niu Zhuang's heart.
He began to have nightmares all night long. Sometimes he felt the cold touch of a sharp blade piercing his leather coat, and sometimes he saw the glaring scarlet of blood splattered on the snow. During the day, he would always unconsciously shrink his neck. He was scared, but he didn't dare to say it.
Everyone was rushing to die, so how could he dare to say he was afraid? What would others think of him? So he hid his fear in his heart and told no one.
That night, the team finally set up camp behind a low slope sheltered from the wind. The wind was a little weaker, but the cold was even stronger. Every time they took a breath, it felt like ice was in their lungs.
Everyone dragged their tired bodies, busy removing the saddles and feeding them some frozen hay. War horses were their second life, and no one dared to neglect them.
Niu Zhuang leaned against his horse, and in the dim light of several campfires, he slowly untied the saddle. The blue horse lowered its head meekly, rubbed his frozen red cheek with its nose, and exhaled a puff of warm white air.
Niu Zhuang felt a pang in his heart.
The horse carried him through the ice and snow, and the horseshoes were worn thin.
He was really heartbroken.
He reached into the bulging leather bag at his waist and groped.
That was a treasure that everyone had. It contained a small bag of fried dry noodles mixed with ground grains, and two smaller cloth bags, one filled with salt and the other filled with sugar. These were the most precious things on the march. They were also distributed to everyone before departure, with the message that they would only take them out when life-threatening situations came.
He carefully untied the rope of the fried noodles bag, and a burnt aroma with a hint of smoke came out. He stretched out his fingers that were numb from the cold, pinched a small handful of fried noodles, thought for a while, and pinched a few grains of salt from the salt bag and sprinkled them on the fried noodles.
He spread the precious mixture on his palm and handed it to the horse's mouth. The horse sniffed it in confusion, then stretched out its warm tongue, rolled the fried noodles into its mouth, and chewed it with satisfaction.
"Silly boy, what good food are you feeding it?" A voice suddenly sounded behind him.
Niu Zhuang was so frightened that his whole body shuddered, his hands shook, and the remaining fried noodles all fell to the ground. He turned around and saw the face of the team leader Wang Dayong, which looked particularly stern in the firelight.
Wang Dayong's eyes were sharp, fixed on the opening of the leather bag before Niu Zhuang could close it.
"Team Leader..."
"This is human rations. They're as precious as life. There's barely enough for humans to eat. How dare you feed them to horses?"
The roar was not loud, but it hit Niu Zhuang's face like a whip.
Several soldiers around were startled and stopped what they were doing, looking at him with either confusion or surprise. Niu Zhuang's cheeks were burning and an inexplicable pain rushed to his head.
"Horses are also valuable," he argued.
"It carries me and my life on its back. I am not precious. I can share some with it. If I eat less, it won't be so tired."
After shouting this, he was stunned. A feeling of bitterness rushed up from the bottom of his heart, blocking his throat and choking him so much that he couldn't breathe. He bit his lower lip tightly, trying hard to hold back the hot and spicy feeling.
Everyone was stunned and looked at this boy.
The anger on Wang Dayong's face froze. He stared at Niu Zhuang. The tears in the boy's eyes flashed in the reflection of the flames, and his tense jaw line relaxed slightly.
In fact, Wang Dayong was very scared. He was afraid that these guys would not take going north seriously, that they would get into accidents, and that he would not be able to explain to their parents. So he watched them closely and had trouble sleeping several times at night.
But he didn't expect that this kid Niu Zhuang.
Suddenly, Wang Dayong sighed heavily. He stretched out his hand and patted Niu Zhuang's thick shoulders hard, which almost made Niu Zhuang stagger.
"Nonsense!" Wang Dayong's voice deepened, with a hoarseness that Niu Zhuang had never heard before. "Your mother, your father, and the people in your family are eagerly waiting for you to return home safely! This fried noodles is for you to survive, and you are precious too! You are more precious than anything else!"
The words "You are precious too" hit Niu Zhuang's heart like hot stones. He lowered his head, unable to hold back any longer, and his hot tears fell on the cold front of his fur coat. He missed home, the steaming earthen kang, his mother's rough but warm hands, and his father.
Wang Dayong didn't say anything more to scold him. He just looked at the big man whose shoulders were twitching and sighed again.
He unbuttoned the front of his equally thick fur coat and, from the innermost layer close to his skin, pulled out a small package carefully wrapped in a washed-out blue cloth.
The blue cloth was very old, but clean. He peeled off the package layer by layer, finally revealing several long, thin pieces of dark brown dried meat.
"Take it." Wang Dayong picked up the two longest ones without saying anything and stuffed them into Niu Zhuang's big hands, which were still stained with tears and snow.
"My wife forced it on me. I'll save it a little to keep my hunger at bay."
The dried meat lay in Niu Zhuang's cold palm, carrying the smell of home. Niu Zhuang stared at it blankly, his throat choked with sobs, unable to utter a word.
"Stop crying," Wang Dayong's voice was still hard, but it seemed not so cold anymore.
"Come home after the war is over. We'll drive those bastards from the north back. From now on, your parents, and you, will all live in peace."
Just then, the sound of hurried horse hooves approached from afar. A messenger wrapped in a thick cloak reined in his horse and stopped by the campfire. He swiftly dropped a heavy linen package, his voice intermittent on the wind: "The princess has ordered! Boil a bowl of medicinal herbs for everyone to keep warm and prevent illness!"
After saying this, without waiting for a response, he turned his horse and rushed into the vast snowy night again.
Wang Dayong immediately responded like clockwork: "What are you standing there for? Get moving!"
He shouted, and several people immediately and swiftly set up a large iron pot that was carried with the army, shoveled snow to melt water, and Wang Dayong personally unpacked the package, which contained some dried medicinal herbs, some of which were very precious.
He poured all the herbs into the pot, checked the amount carefully again, and then covered the pot with the heavy wooden lid.
The firewood crackled, the medicinal soup gradually boiled, and a strong bitter smell with a hint of warmth spread, gradually overwhelming the original cold and fishy smell in the camp. The medicinal smell permeated the cold air, bringing a hint of stability.
"Line up! One bowl per person, eat while it's hot, don't leave anyone out!" Wang Dayong personally took the lead in cooking, his voice loud and clear, drowning out the sound of the wind.
Fifty men, each holding a coarse earthenware bowl, came forward one after another. The dark brown medicinal liquid was boiling hot, and the steam rising from it was so thick that it was hard to open your eyes.
Niu Zhuang held his portion, his fingers reddened from the heat of the bowl. He didn't bother blowing on it, but carefully sipped along the edge. An indescribable bitterness rushed straight to his head, making him shudder. But then, a searing warmth burned down his throat, quickly spreading to every part of his body. He exhaled a breath of white air with satisfaction.
After drinking a bowl of medicinal soup, even the wind and snow seemed less biting.
The soldiers gathered around the campfire, warmed themselves up, and began to talk more. The low voices of conversation and occasional laughter and scolding injected new vitality into the camp.
Niu Zhuang looked at the inky black sky in the distance, and for the first time he had a vague feeling in his heart that maybe he could really go back. The blue horse seemed to sense his master's calmness, snorted, and leaned its head on his shoulder obediently.
The night was filled with howling wind and snow, but it passed safely.
It was still dark, the coldest moment before dawn.
Niu Zhuang, wrapped in a fur coat, curled up on the hay mat, but he did not sleep well. In his dreams, he still dreamed of his mother's blurry face and whistling arrows.
Suddenly, something warm and smelling of oil hit him squarely on the chest with a "bang", knocking him out of his chaotic dream.
"Ugh!" Niu Zhuang sat up in shock, his eyes still half asleep, and subconsciously grabbed the thing that woke him up - a fist-sized pancake wrapped in oil paper.
The oil paper had become translucent due to the heat and oil, and an extremely overbearing aroma of meat, mixed with the aroma of burnt wheat flour and the rich aroma of mutton fat, penetrated his nostrils.
"Eat as soon as you wake up. Her Royal Highness the Princess ordered it!" An old soldier who looked like a cook shouted from a distance, and was deftly distributing oil-paper packages to the arms of other soldiers who were still sleeping soundly.
"They slaughtered the sheep before daybreak! The princess said that eating a full meal will warm your body and make it easier to walk!"
The camp was instantly awakened by the rich aroma.
The soldiers sat up and hurriedly unwrapped the oil paper. Niu Zhuang couldn't wait to tear open the package, and a stronger wave of heat hit his face.
The meat pie was baked to a golden and crispy texture, and was so thick that it felt heavy. When you took a bite, the crispy crust broke between your teeth, revealing finely chopped lamb filling with alternating fat and lean meat!
The boiling hot gravy mixed with grease was so hot that he gasped for air, but he was reluctant to spit it out. The rich salty aroma and the unique sweetness of mutton instantly exploded in his mouth, dispelling the last trace of coldness.
He ate voraciously, finishing half of the pancake in just a few bites.
As he ate with big mouthfuls, he vaguely thought, this pancake is so delicious, with juicy meat and crispy skin...
After the war, when I return home, I will definitely buy my mother a few of these meat patties so that she can have a taste of them.
When the first ray of gray light shone on this leeward camp, three thousand cavalrymen were already ready for battle. The white breath exhaled from the soldiers' mouths merged into one, as if covering the silent team with a veil.
Wang Dayong rode on his horse and glanced at his team. Fifty faces were red from the cold, but there was no trace of yesterday's lethargy in their eyes.
He shouted gruffly, "Let's go!"
The cavalry moved slowly again, merged into the long gray dragon, and continued to head north.
The wind and snow were still there, but they no longer seemed so unbearable.
Niu Zhuang straightened his back and looked back to the south, which was the direction of his home. For the first time, there was something different in his eyes.
They headed north, unknowingly stepping onto an unknown battlefield, and in the Mingzhou city they left, a silent fire had already begun.
The night was as dark as ink, splashing heavily over the city of Mingzhou.
The hustle and bustle of the day had long since died down, leaving only the monotonous sound of the night watchman's clappers wandering through the deep streets and alleys, sometimes far away, sometimes near. The two heavy wooden doors of the nursing home were tightly closed. There were still a few faint coughs or whispers during the day, but at this moment, there was only dead silence.
Several dark shadows appeared at the foot of the wall. They moved swiftly and fell into the yard. They dispersed and skillfully took out something from their arms. It was a piece of cloth soaked in grease, a bundle of dry grass, and a few pieces of pungent-smelling kindling.
They quickly stuffed these things into the firewood piles next to several houses.
With a flick of the flint, a dazzling spark flew out and landed on the oil-soaked cloth.
"laugh"
A faint burning sound was heard, and a little orange flame quickly spread. The flames climbed up along the window frame, licking the dry wood, and thick smoke began to roll and rise.
At the moment when the smoke rose, a figure sat up in a small gatehouse in the west corner of the nursing home. It was Old Chen.
He has been guarding this nursing home for nearly twenty years. His ears have long been half deafened by the years, but his nose is extremely sensitive.
A very faint smell of burning came, and he didn't even bother to put on his shoes. He rushed out of the lobby in his slippers. The scene in front of him made his cloudy old eyes widen.
The flames had already risen to half a person's height!
"The fire is coming!"
He roared at the top of his lungs and staggered towards the nearest fire, completely ignoring the scorching heat. He used his bare hands to dig out the burning firewood, trying to use his thin body to block the raging flames.
The arsonist closest to him was startled, and without any hesitation, he pulled out a short blade from his waist. A cold light flashed in the firelight, and he stabbed it hard in the back of Lao Chen who was concentrating on putting out the fire!
"Well"
Old Chen's body suddenly stiffened, and he stopped trying to pry the fire away. His body swayed, and he fell straight forward beside the flames.
The arsonist succeeded in his attack and without hesitation, he shouted, "Retreat!"
Several black shadows immediately gave up on lighting the fire and quickly retreated towards the courtyard wall. Their movements were faster and more panicked than when they came.
Not long.
"Catch the thief! Put out the fire!"
"Quick! Water! Water!"
"Uncle Chen! Uncle Chen is still in there!"
The shouts and sounds of splashing water instantly broke the dead silence of the winter night in Mingzhou City. Flames shot up into the sky, and shadows of people were everywhere. The crowd of people putting out the fire rushed towards the burning houses like a swarm of ants.
In the chaos, a small sedan chair covered with green cloth appeared, and Shen Qingyan walked out of it.
His face was gaunt, his thin lips pressed into a straight line, and he looked at the fire in front of him with only pity in his eyes.
I don’t know how long it took.
"Sir, the fire is under control! But..." A capable captain walked quickly to the sedan chair and said, "Old Chen, the gatekeeper, is gone."
He closed his eyes and opened them again.
Zhou Wenyuan.
The sky in Mingzhou is gradually getting brighter, and it's time to do some things.
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