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墨書 Inktalez
Standing on the walls of Yan Prefecture, looking out, it was a scene of bloodshed and scorched earth.
Qin Yaru had always thought that wars in modern society were far more brutal than those in the era of cold weapons. After all, the advent of gunpowder seemed to turn warfare into an all-powerful devil.
But now, having truly arrived near the battlefield, even without experiencing it firsthand, she suddenly realized that the real brutality of cold weapon warfare was chilling to the core.
"Wife, please come down! Why are you running up to the city wall again? If something goes wrong, how will we explain it to the general?"
A woman responsible for menial tasks in the army changed her expression upon seeing Qin Yaru on the city wall. She shouted angrily at the soldier standing nearby, "What are you doing? Don't you know to stop the Wife?"
The young soldier, looking no more than fifteen or sixteen, turned red with embarrassment and lowered his head in silence. The older soldier beside him, who appeared honest and simple, also felt somewhat ashamed.
He felt awkward because he had just thought that Consort Qin's presence was similar to that of their Supreme Commander and, momentarily at a loss, did not dare to intervene.
Qin Yaru shook her head and turned to glance into the distance—Gao Feng was just outside the city.
A few days ago, Dangxiang's troops ambushed reinforcements at Sanchuan Pass but were counter-ambushed by Gao Feng along with Generals Liu and Shi. Dangxiang suffered a great defeat, slightly alleviating the siege of Yan Prefecture.
Unfortunately, Dangxiang's army was indeed not easy to deal with; like the soldiers of the Song Dynasty, they suffered heavy casualties.
The bodies were collected and transported back to Yan Prefecture. The coffins in the city were nearly emptied, yet many soldiers could only be wrapped in straw mats.
Gao Feng poured a bowl of warm wine onto the ground with Qin Wenyuan and several trusted deputy generals beside him. His eyes glimmered slightly.
He had seen death many times before; he had witnessed far too much. Yet each time was heart-wrenching. These people were not mere statistics from a game; they were real lives with blood, flesh, and souls. Just a moment ago, they had been drinking and eating together, boasting and laughing. The next moment, they lay forever on the battlefield.
"Brothers, your blood will not be shed in vain. You will stand tall for generations; your heroic spirits will endure forever!"
Sometimes Gao Feng did not understand whether fighting here with so many soldiers had any meaning. But he had to do something. The Western Xia were not truly the soul-touching enemies of the Han people; the real enemies were Jin and Yuan Mongolia. While Yuan Mongolia was still distant, Jin was right before them—the Jingkang Incident. Throughout Chinese history, how many wars had there been? Only Jingkang was called a shame. It was a disgrace for the Song Dynasty royal family and for all Han people.
He did not want himself or Qin Yaru's descendants to experience this humiliation. Since he could not wait for that day himself, he needed to start now—making the Song Dynasty's army stronger and more accustomed to winning battles rather than losing them. He wanted to elevate the status of military generals even if just a little bit.
As Qin Yaru descended from the city wall, she happened to encounter Wancui leading a large group of women pulling ox carts filled with supplies toward the city wall. Most of what was on the carts were coarse bread rolls and flatbreads—some yellowed, some blackened—with very few being pure white—and there was also a basin of pickled vegetables.
Wancui wiped the sweat from his brow and saw his wife walking over slowly. He hurriedly approached to greet her, saying, "I couldn't find you just now, Wife. I thought you must have come here."
Qin Yaru smiled, picked up a piece of steamed bun, broke off a small bit, and put it in her mouth. It was very coarse and scratched her throat: "Send it up. Yesterday, they brought a dead horse to the kitchen to make meat soup for the soldiers to taste. There’s not a bit of meat in it; how can they have the strength to fight?"
Wancui sighed and glanced at his master hesitantly. Recently, his master hadn’t had a proper meal and had lost quite a bit of weight. The servants felt heartbroken seeing this, but ultimately they didn’t say much and just complied.
Yan Prefecture was besieged, and large quantities of grain could not be transported in. Fortunately, years ago, Gao Feng had taken measures to build granaries in some strategic locations, storing quite a bit of grain. Although there were officials who embezzled and lined their own pockets, there was still enough surplus grain for the time being.
However, it was barely enough to fill their stomachs, and the quality was not worth mentioning.
Fortunately, there was plenty of salt. Qin Yaru brought along some soldiers' families from Yan Prefecture to help make pickled vegetables to supplement the soldiers' salt intake. They needed salt to fight; lacking it would definitely be detrimental.
In this siege of Yan Prefecture, men, women, young, and old all participated together. While women and the elderly couldn’t fight, they could still take on caregiving tasks. After Qin Yaru arrived, she organized these people to cook for the soldiers, do laundry, and care for the wounded. Most of them were relatives of the soldiers from Yan Prefecture, so they naturally took great care in looking after their fathers, brothers, and husbands.
"Alright, you go ahead. I’ll go check on the wounded soldiers."
After sending Wancui off, Qin Yaru headed straight for the infirmary.
As soon as she entered the courtyard of the infirmary, she saw several women drawing water from the well to wash bandages and quickly went over to help.
One woman blushed upon seeing her arrival and hurriedly stopped her: "Consort Qin, please don’t do such rough work. We’re here; there’s no need for you to get your hands dirty."
"Exactly! What if you hurt your hands?"
These women were used to hard labor; their hands were calloused. Seeing Qin Yaru's delicate white fingers getting roughened made them uncomfortable.
In their simple mindset, Qin Yaru was the Marshal's wife and a noblewoman who shouldn’t be in such a dirty place or doing such rough work.
Qin Yaru found it amusing yet didn’t argue with them. She went on to check on the wounded soldiers and changed the dressing for one soldier whose wound showed signs of infection.
She had practically become a permanent fixture at the infirmary now. At first, when the soldiers and medical staff saw this Marshal's wife arrive, they were all nervous and cautious around her. Now they looked at her with admiration; they treated her almost like a goddess—extremely respectful—probably even more so than if Gao Feng himself were present.
There was no denying that Qin Yaru’s presence had made a significant impact. She alone was ten times more effective than those undertrained and inexperienced medical staff. In just a few days, more than ten soldiers who were originally doomed had survived thanks to her efforts.
Moreover, she was a beauty; even as she aged, she remained beautiful.
"Is Consort Qin here?" A soldier opened his eyes and, upon seeing Qin Yaru, immediately broke into a smile. "Consort Qin, please continue telling us about Guo Jing and Huang Rong. What happened to them?"
At that moment, a female doctor who was checking his wounds slapped him on the forehead. "You only think about pestering Consort Qin at night. There are so many matters concerning Consort Qin; how could she spend all day telling you stories?"
Qin Yaru chuckled. She had initially told the story to distract this child, who was feeling frustrated and eager to jump out and fight. In truth, the story was a hodgepodge, chaotic and unstructured; she hadn't put much thought into it. However, her literary skills and broad knowledge meant that even a casual tale from her could have a significant impact at that moment.
"Just rest for now. After dinner, I'll tell you more."
Qin Yaru first checked on the soldiers' conditions and saw that they were improving. Feeling somewhat pleased, she agreed to their request. As soon as she spoke, the entire infirmary of wounded soldiers became invigorated; clearly, it wasn't just this child who felt bored.
She called over a young female doctor who was still quite inexperienced and demonstrated how to bandage wounds. The young doctor practiced earnestly, again and again, but as she continued, tears began to fall. "If only there were no war... I just married Li Lang, and we don't even have a child yet... Consort Qin, can we win?"
Qin Yaru was taken aback. She looked up and gazed into the distance as if she could faintly hear the sounds of battle outside the city—"We can."
Of course they could. She refused to dwell on history; with Gao Feng around, history was in their own hands. They had only been living together for a little over ten years—this wasn't enough. She still wanted to grow old with Gao Feng and hoped to share ten, twenty, or thirty years of happiness with her man.
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