Chapter 17

After a major upheaval, with the blood of Princess Zhao Hua staining the flag of the Death Corps, everything settled down. The Western Border Army once again witnessed the audacity of the Death Corps, along with countless envy and resentment. However, to Qin Feng, all of this seemed as insignificant as clouds in the sky. Whether it was the blood of a princess or a common soldier, it was all red, and the blood of a princess was not necessarily any more fragrant or redder. In fact, if he could smear Yang Zhi's blood on the flag, he would be even happier, but Qin Feng also knew that this was just a thought.

Yang Zhi, with a disheveled appearance, returned to the capital by carriage, unable to stay any longer. His face was truly unappealing, and the swelling and bruising on his face from Qin Feng's symmetrical strikes would not subside in less than ten to fifteen days. Shu Chang had a method, but he refused to treat it. Giving him a life-saving pill to prevent internal injuries was only because his background was somewhat formidable.

He could no longer ride a horse and could only return in the carriage, looking wretched. As for whether he would seek revenge upon his return, Qin Feng did not care. First, since he was in the army, even if Chancellor Yang wanted to deal with him, it would not be easy to reach him. Even if he had the power to reach him, Qin Feng was in the Death Corps, doing a job where today might be his last day. What more could they do to him? As long as he could win battle after battle and establish merit for the commander, whoever was the leader of the Western Border Army would turn a blind eye. As for promotion and wealth, Qin Feng had never really thought about it.

Think about it, for someone who lived day by day without knowing if there would be a tomorrow, how much allure would promotion and wealth have? In Qin Feng's words, if they really forced him, he would rather part ways, leave the army, and wander the world as a bandit. What was there to fear? He could still drink large bowls of wine and eat large pieces of meat until one day, when the hidden dangers finally erupted, he would kick his legs and go to the underworld to drink and chat with the Lord of Death.

After the storm, the Western Border Army also returned to calm, and everyone began preparing for the expedition. Especially the Death Corps, which was to be used as bait, all the previous preparations were in vain. Now, there was no time to redo them, so they could only feel their way forward, step by step. Qin Feng hated this the most and found it the most frustrating. A war, if not properly prepared in the early stages, relying solely on bravery in a narrow encounter, could only succeed once, not repeatedly. No army could be so lucky every time. The big shots in the court made a new plan with a snap of their fingers, but they did not realize that for those below, it was not just a matter of running their legs off; it could result in rivers of blood.

Wild Dog was seriously injured, though not fatally, and could not participate in this major battle. He could only stay behind to recover. Zhang Xiaomao, who had been freeloaded in the Death Corps for several days, also had to return, albeit in a listless state. Although he only suffered some external injuries, the leader of the Western Border Army, Zuo Lixing, was very dissatisfied with his performance in this incident, clearly showing an unstable stance. An order came down, and citing Zhang Xiaomao's injuries as a reason for not leading troops, he was replaced by the deputy commander of the Wind Chaser Corps, who would lead the expedition, while Zhang Xiaomao stayed behind to recover.

Zhang Xiaomao, having suffered this silent loss, was full of frustration. Everyone knew that this time, except for the Death Corps, whose future was uncertain and whose lives were at risk, the other corps would likely earn easy credit. But he could not get it. Now that the army was about to set out, he had to return and hand over his duties to his former deputy. That deputy was probably grinning from ear to ear. When Zhang Xiaomao left, his resentful gaze made Qin Feng's scalp tingle, and he kicked the dazed Zhang Xiaomao out of the tent with a flying kick.

Since Wild Dog could not work, his squad could only be temporarily led by Qin Feng. The first squad, which had always been the vanguard, was combined with Qin Feng's personal guard, forming the main force, while Scissors became the new vanguard, and the monk still took the rear.

"This time, we are the bait. To put it bluntly, we are going to be sent to be cut down by the enemy. The higher-ups don't care about our lives, but we must care about ourselves. So this time, it's not about how many enemy heads we cut, but how many people we can bring back alive." In Qin Feng's tent, he knocked on the table, reminding the monk, who, upon learning they were going to war again, spent his free time every day in the nearest well, cavorting with the prostitutes there. After a few days, his eyes were sunken, and he had dark circles. His scalp, which was usually bald, had grown a layer of hair, blending with his facial hair, making his incense scars invisible.

As Scissors put it, this monk would one day die on a woman's belly.

The next day was the day of the expedition. The monk had been out all day and only ran into Qin Feng's tent at the last minute. If he missed the time Qin Feng set, he would not lose his head, but a severe beating was certain. The monk understood this, but once inside the tent, he immediately became listless, nodding his head up and down, not because he understood what Qin Feng was saying, but because he was exhausted and needed to rest.

Qin Feng always thought this guy was a freak. No matter how much he indulged with women, the monk always bounced back after a two to three-day rest, his abilities far surpassing those of ordinary people. If the monk did not join the army, he would definitely be a great gigolo. Qin Feng often maliciously imagined what the monk would look like if he did that.

"The higher-ups have given us the task of finding the enemy's main force and engaging them for more than three days before retreating." Qin Feng knocked on the table, as not doing so would make the monk's eyelids close immediately. He could only keep the monk awake by knocking on the table.

"This is not an easy job. Everyone knows that although we usually win more than we lose against the Western Qin, they are not easy to deal with. Each time, although we are the vanguard, there is always a large force following us. This time, we are operating alone. If the Western Qin realize they have been tricked, they will chase us like mad dogs. So, this time, it won't be easy to escape."

"Qin, just tell us what to do," the monk, disturbed by Qin Feng's constant knocking, felt it was better to finish the task quickly so he could go back to sleep. After all, every major battle was planned by Qin Feng, and they just followed the plan.

"This time, our first goal is to make the enemy believe we are preparing to attack them. The second goal is to engage the enemy in two battles and then immediately retreat. So, we will not carry anything that hinders our escape. This time, each soldier will carry their own food, with no logistics support."

"Ah?" Both the monk and Scissors were stunned, even the monk, who had been listless, became more alert.

"Each person should carry enough food for ten days. We will march for three days, engage the enemy for one to three days, and spend the remaining three days retreating. For us, this operation will last nine days, with an extra day reserved for unexpected situations. However, since the higher-ups are so confident, I don't expect any surprises. In any case, if we return in ten days, the credit is assured. Commander Zuo said that the Death Corps will be credited with the first merit. If we earn another first merit, Scissors, you can clear your name, and Monk, you will only need one more first merit. Understand?"

"Understand, understand!" Both nodded excitedly. Only those who had been prisoners would desperately yearn for a normal life. Scissors, although he had committed murder, had a justifiable reason and met a relatively kind judge, so his sentence was lighter than the monk's. The monk's crime was so heinous that his punishment was naturally more severe. Therefore, although the monk joined the Death Corps earlier and had more merits, he would likely have to stay in the Death Corps for a few more years than Scissors, of course, if he lived that long.

"Tell the men to be careful. Everyone should go to bed early tonight. We will start the fire at the third watch and set out at the fourth watch. Monk, I warn you, if you go out tonight, I will cut off your manhood and send you to be a eunuch. Do you believe me?"

Hearing Qin Feng's threat, the monk instinctively covered his crotch and shook his head. "Of course, I won't go out, definitely not."

Scissors smiled sinisterly. "I know, the monk's warhorse is a mare!"

Leaving this remark, Scissors pressed the table and rolled out of the tent with a thud. The monk's fist smashed the bench Scissors was sitting on into two pieces.

"Breaking my bench, you will pay a month's salary as compensation." Qin Feng chuckled. The monk opened his mouth, but a bench was only worth a few coins, while a deputy commander's monthly salary was twenty taels of silver. However, he did not dare to haggle, as one word might double the compensation. He sighed and walked out, knowing that with a month's salary lost, the women would not be happy when he returned.

Looking at the monk's back, Wild Dog, who was half-lying on the ground, suddenly said, "What did Scissors mean by that? Could the monk really have done something with his warhorse?"

Qin Feng and Shu Chang, who was changing Wild Dog's bandages, exchanged glances and then burst out laughing. With a slap, a plaster was stuck on Wild Dog's mouth again.