Weird Three Kingdoms

Chapter 3701: Haolu’s fate
The phrase "evil qi enters the body" is essentially the summary of current problems by traditional Chinese medicine practitioners.

Cao Cao's army had previously followed the example of the Flying Cavalry and implemented hygiene regulations, but those were just empty formalities.

They'll tamper with it when a superior is inspecting, but if no superior is around, everyone will pretend they didn't see it.

After all, every military academy sergeant is very busy, who has the time to care about poop and pee?

Now things have gotten much worse, a much bigger problem.

Traditional typhoid fever remedies prescribed by doctors, which involve inducing sweating and dispelling dampness, have little effect on the rampant spread of typhoid fever in today's hot and humid environment.

The idea of ​​setting up camps to isolate patients was initially rejected, but has since been rapidly expanded.

The cries of the patients never ceased, day and night.

What's even more worrying is that some follow-up troops who did not participate in the battle of Flying Fox Fortress have also begun to show similar symptoms.

This plague, like an invisible enemy, is silently eroding Cao Cao's army.

The atmosphere inside the central command tent was heavy.

Cao Cao did not contract the disease, nor did Xun Yu.

It could even be said that most of the high-ranking military officers and generals in Cao Cao's army were not infected.

It's not that Cao Cao and his ilk had any special genes or unique antibodies, but rather that they were fed and used specially supplied food and goods...

After all, in Shandong, the central plains, no matter how poor we are, we can't let our leaders suffer; no matter how tough things are, we can't let our superiors suffer.

Cao Cao sat behind his desk, with a map of Jingzhou laid out in front of him.

Xun Yu stood to one side, his usually calm face now showing signs of worry, with dark circles clearly visible under his eyes.

"Wenruo," Cao Cao's voice was slightly hoarse, his gaze never leaving the map, "What is the current situation of the various units on the southern front? Since the Sima clan retreated to Taigu Pass, have they made any unusual moves?"

Cao Cao asked about military intelligence, but Xun Yu understood that the support behind military intelligence still came from the soldiers.

Xun Yu bowed slightly, his voice low: "Reporting to the Prime Minister, after the Sima clan retreated into Taigu Pass, they relied on its strategic location and remained closed off. Scouts report that the pass is heavily fortified, and there are no signs of large-scale mobilization yet. Generals Liao and Li have retreated to the north bank of the Dan River. The army in Wancheng is also preparing for battle and has no intention of breaking out. Xu Gongming of Sichuan still holds Jiangling, while Huang and Cheng of Jiangdong are patrolling the river, harassing supply lines, but their intention is only to contain the enemy and they have no intention of launching a full-scale assault."

In just a few words, Xun Yu described the situation around Jingbei.

Cao Cao's army has indeed made some progress, but the current situation...

The situation is not optimistic.

Xun Yu paused, his tone becoming heavy, "Now... since the battle of Feihu Fortress, although our army has captured the fortress pass, our soldiers fought fiercely in the rain, their armor soaked through, the cold seeping into their bones. In recent days, the number of those falling ill in the camp has increased daily, exceeding five hundred, and this illness is severe, likely not recovering in a month or more... The physicians have reported that medicinal herbs are also running out..."

Xun Yu didn't mention "plague" or even "typhoid fever," only "illness." This wasn't because Xun Yu intentionally concealed anything, but because the so-called "divine retribution" had been circulating among Cao Cao's army for a while. Although it had been suppressed, it was now being subtly re-emerged among the lower-ranking soldiers under the influence of the illness...

This is why Xun Yu 'concealed' the matter and did not mention it.

The problem is that the more they "conceal" the truth, the more uneasy the ordinary soldiers and civilians become.

The more uneasy the ordinary people and soldiers became, the less the officials above dared to tell the truth.

Cao Cao raised his eyes, his sharp gaze sweeping across Xun Yu's weary face. "How is the transport of grain and fodder progressing? Any news from Yingchuan and Yuzhou?"

The fall of Wen County meant that the supply routes from Hanoi and Jizhou were completely cut off.

Although there wasn't much to begin with, even a little more is better than nothing.

But now...

Yingchuan Commandery, especially Xun Yu's hometown, became the key to maintaining the army's lifeline at this moment.

"Yingchuan has done its best to procure supplies, but..." Xun Yu frowned, "Firstly, during last autumn and winter's major battles, Yuzhou also had a large amount of stored grain drawn from its reserves; secondly, the turmoil in Qing and Xu provinces has cut off transportation routes, making it impossible to transport grain from those areas... Overland transport is difficult and incurring huge losses. The latest batch of grain is still en route... Even if it arrives here, it will be a drop in the ocean and may not be enough to sustain the army for long... Furthermore, the laborers who transported the previous batch of grain... have also been found to be ill..."

Xun Yu lowered his voice even further for the last sentence.

The tent was completely silent.

The price of victory was so heavy.

The strategic gains from capturing Guiku Pass were quickly offset by the disease spreading in the camp and the increasingly difficult supply lines.

The soldiers were weakened and fearful due to disease, and their combat effectiveness declined sharply.

A full-scale assault on Taigu Pass?
Given the current state of the soldiers, it's tantamount to driving their weak and sick bodies into an iron wall.

Should the standoff continue?

The daily consumption of food and the ever-increasing number of sick soldiers were relentlessly draining the vitality of this large army.

The ambition to march south to relieve the siege of Xiangyang, and even to launch a counterattack on Jiangling, was shattered by the harsh reality.

Cao Cao's gaze fell on the map again, and the symbol representing the Flying Cavalry seemed to be mocking him silently.

Fei Qian's main force's movements are unclear, and Sima Yi remains holed up. Although the various cavalry units on the southern front have been temporarily divided, they have not suffered a devastating blow; rather, they seem to be accumulating strength and waiting for an opportunity. On their side, the most dangerous enemy is no longer behind the passes opposite them, but within their own camp, amidst the increasingly dim eyes and suppressed coughs of their soldiers.

"Send the order to all battalions,"

After much deliberation, Cao Cao finally issued the order: "Strictly control the sick camps, and ensure that medical officers do their utmost to treat them. Send more scouts to closely monitor the movements of the Flying Cavalry in Guanzhong, Taigu Pass, Wancheng, and the Dan River region. Report any unusual activity immediately! Supplies… must be delivered on schedule at all costs!"

Cao Cao pondered for a moment, then sent another letter to Cao Zixiao in Xiangyang, informing him of the military situation and ordering him to hold firm and await an opportune moment.

The order was given, but the stagnant air in the tent did not dissipate.

Xun Yu accepted the order, but he knew in his heart that Prime Minister Cao's order could only delay, but could not eradicate the current troubles and the epidemic.

This crisis, fueled by continuous rain, fierce fighting, and brutal logistics, is dragging this army, which has just achieved a tactical victory, into a bottomless quagmire.

Should we continue to tear apart the Flying Cavalry's southern front in Jingzhou and Xiangyang, or...?

In Ji Province, the cavalry did not seem to immediately launch a large-scale offensive after the capture of Wen County, but this did not mean that Ji Province was safe, after all, Zhao Yun and Wei Yan were still watching Ji Province from the north...

What should be the next move?

The chessboard was almost completely filled, and the space was getting smaller and smaller.

Xun Yu looked at Cao Cao's profile as he once again fell into deep thought about the map. He also noticed Cao Cao's tightly pursed lips and the deep lines between his brows, which seemed to silently convey the immense pressure Cao Cao was under.

Yuan Shao back then seemed to be...

The moment those words entered Xun Yu's mind, they made him shudder. He almost immediately lowered his head to hide the fear in his eyes, and then hurriedly left.

After everyone in the tent had left, Cao Cao finally looked up from the map.

In a daze, Cao Cao looked at the objects around him, breathing in the mixture of earthy, bloody, and sweaty odors, along with herbs and a faint trace of decay, and felt as if he had returned to a certain year...

That year, he smelled the same odor in Yuan Jun's camp.

Fever, vomiting, diarrhea, coma...

These words kept recurring, coiling around his thoughts like venomous snakes.

When you are sick, the conventional understanding is that you should rest and let your body recover.

That's exactly what Yuan Shao did back then...

Cao Cao raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through the heavy curtains of the tent, and landing on the distant northern bank of the great river.

His thoughts were uncontrollably drawn back to the eve of the decisive battle that would determine the fate of Hebei.

In my memory, there are not clear images of the battlefield, but rather murky river water.

Above the endless rows of Yuan army camps on the opposite bank, a similar layer of gray, suffocating deathly aura seemed to hang over them.

That was the smell of despair and death fermenting.

This aroma was now lingering around Cao Cao's nose...

Back then, Yuan Shao's massive army was like a giant beast entangled by invisible vines, struggling futilely on the north bank and watching helplessly as opportunities slipped away.

Cao Cao clearly remembered the barely suppressed excitement in the eyes of his advisors when scouts reported that there might be a plague in Yuan's camp and that the morale of Yuan's troops was low, as well as the feeling of his fingertips tingling as he suppressed his own elation.

But now, Cao Cao feels as if he has been reincarnated, and he has become Yuan Shao...

"Yuan Benchu..."

Cao Cao uttered the name almost silently, with a complex and indescribable emotion in his voice.

The plague that plagued Yuan Shao back then led to his glory.

Now, this same misfortune has befallen him? Is it retribution?
It was the resentment caused by those who burned down camps and buried surrendered soldiers back then.

still is……

Yuan Shao's dying curse, filled with resentment, has finally transcended time and space, lingering over us.

A chill, mixed with inexplicable irritation and a sense of humiliation at being mocked by fate, rose from the deepest part of Cao Cao's heart.

How could Cao Cao repeat the mistakes of Yuan Shao?
wait?

Waiting means sitting and waiting to die!

This meant a complete collapse of morale, a respite for the cavalry on the southern front, utter hopelessness for Xiangyang, and the collapse of the entire strategy! He couldn't afford to waste another ten days!
Cao Cao's expression flickered with uncertainty, eventually settling into a resolute, iron-blue hue.

Southern front fighters are fleeting!
Sima Yi has just suffered a defeat, Liao Hua and Li Dian are in dire straits, and Xiangyang is in imminent danger!

This is a golden opportunity, how can we let it slip away because of a mere 'scabies'?
He doesn't have many choices left...

Sitting and waiting might just mean certain death!
Cao Cao dispelled the illusion of Yuan Shao's camp in his mind, but that 'curse'-like unease, even this 'curse,' was like a cold thorn deeply embedded in his heart.

Prepare, advance; as long as we can move forward, we cannot stop!

Cao Cao and Xun Yu were determined to open up the Songshan line so that spies in the Heluo region could make contact!

As long as Cao Cao could understand the movements of the Flying Cavalry in the Heluo region, or know their strengths and weaknesses, he could formulate targeted strategies based on the situation!
The great battle is imminent, and everything is in service of the ultimate goal. As for the wounded who have fallen behind...

Necessary sacrifices are unavoidable...

At this moment, Cao Cao could no longer care about anything else.

……

……

If we turn back the clock a little, let's focus our attention on the newly established settlement area along the Yi River in the Heluo region.

There's a unique smell here too.

The summer heat carried the scent of freshly turned earth, mixed with the smell of sweat and the raw, green taste of seedlings.

Old Wang, his back hunched, gripped a wooden-handled iron shovel tightly with his rough, bark-like hands, carefully clearing away the stubborn weed roots between the furrows.

Rice is delicate, and compared to common barnyard grass, it is quite "incompetent." It can't compete with soil and water, nor can it grow as fast as barnyard grass. If you don't pay attention for a few days, barnyard grass will immediately sprout in the cultivated field, and it can grow faster and better than rice. Therefore, weeding must be done every few days.

His movements weren't fast, but he was exceptionally focused, as if he were handling not Zhuang He, but some kind of fragile treasure.

This land is 'belongs' to him.

This land was only recently allocated.

Wang Laonian still doesn't understand exactly how it was "calculated".

Most of the Cao army soldiers who were captured and screened along with him and then participated in the land reclamation were scattered throughout this Heluo region.

The "Agricultural Scholar" and "Engineering Scholar" from the General of the Cavalry's mansion came a few days ago with ropes, rulers, wooden stakes, and wooden boards with strange grids drawn on them, and allocated this wasteland to them.

Wang Laonian was allocated one of the small pieces.

At the same time, Wang Laonian also obtained a wooden tablet with some kind of symbol stamped on it.

The clerk who gave Wang Laonian the wooden slip said that the slip contained information such as Wang Laonian's name and the location of the land, but Wang Laonian couldn't understand it.

He only recognized the character "王" (wang).

The clerk pointed to the words on the sign and read them aloud to him. The feeling...

It's strange; I feel a little reassured, yet also a little incredulous. It's like a dream, or like holding a hot potato—my heart is pounding with anxiety.

Having obtained the wooden tablet, Wang Laonian couldn't sleep soundly for several days. He even slept with it, but was afraid of accidentally damaging the writing or the embossed marks. He couldn't find a suitable place to hide it. Placing it in a corner would be more concealed, but what if it encountered insects or rodents? And if he carried it with him every day, what if he lost it while working?
Wang Laonian felt as if his life was tied to this piece of wood.

Is this really his land?
The land he cultivated?
Can you really make something your own by paying ten years' rent?
In his hometown in Shandong, he also served as a garrison soldier and was allocated land.

But what do you call that, dividing up land?
The foreman pointed with his whip, drawing a circle, his eyes and mouth squinting, only his nostrils pointing skyward. "Here! This area is yours to cultivate!"

That place, nominally, seemed to have some connection with Wang Laonian, and the orders from above also seemed to be to "pacify the people," but...

Old Wang knew it perfectly well!

Shandong is a region governed by officials!
It's like a city dweller buying a house, thinking it's theirs, but then the government says they need to build roads or expand their camp, and they just confiscate it without a word.

What is the harvest from farming?
The lion's share had already been taken from them, leaving them barely enough to survive.

That's not all. Spring plowing requires "plow fee," summer weeding requires "seedling tax," and autumn harvest brings even more "flour fee," "transportation fee," and "rat and sparrow scavenging fee"...

There were so many kinds of things that they were countless, like a pack of hungry wolves tearing at the meager harvest they had worked so hard to get all year.

Back then, Wang Laonian had personally witnessed a farmer from the neighboring group who couldn't pay a dou (a unit of dry measure) of "rat and sparrow" (a type of wild game) and had his ribs broken by a petty official...

If you get beaten, you deserve to be beaten; if you say anything more, it will be considered disobeying orders.

Shandong is a blood-sucking hole. The more you plant, the more you owe, and in the end, even people and bone fragments have to be filled in.

And what about this piece of land in the Heluo region right in front of us?

Wang Laonian straightened his aching back, wiped away his sweat, and looked around blankly with a hint of hope.

Life here, farming, was not easy.

After all, we missed the spring planting season, so now we're late for farming and have to rush to do everything.

Not all the "managers" sent by the General of the Cavalry were easy to get along with.

Wang Laonian preferred to call them "managers," even though they themselves called themselves "scholars."

A young scholar surnamed Zhang, in charge of supervising the construction of the irrigation canals, was extremely impatient. When he cursed, his spittle flew, and he yelled that if they dug the canals too slowly, "If we miss the planting season, there will be no harvest! What will you use to pay your rations? According to the laws of the Imperial Guard, those who do not perform their duties shall not eat!"

His spittle sprayed all over Wang Laonian's face.

Wang Laonian just kept his head down, rubbing his calloused hands, without saying a word.

As fierce as he was, Wang Laonian noticed that although Scholar Zhang was cursing, he kept the whip tucked into his waistband and never actually lashed it out.

When I was a soldier stationed in Shandong, if I was a little slow, the whip would have already been lashed out. There was no point in talking to me about "laws and regulations".
Although this scholar was fierce, he cursed but didn't actually lay a hand on anyone.

More importantly, these people came to teach them how to draw water, how to compost, and how to select seeds. Although their attitude was stiff, what they taught was truly useful.

Unlike those petty officials in Shandong, who come here to collect money, assign tasks, and even beat people.

What made Wang Laonian both uneasy and secretly hopeful was the phrase the "managers" kept repeating...

"Plant it well! The rent will be heavier in the first few years, but after ten years, the land on this deed will truly belong to your family! As long as you pay your taxes according to the law, no one can take it away!"

ten years……

Old Wang couldn't count, but the "manager" said that if rent was collected once a year, it could be counted on one finger, and after ten fingers, the land would be his...

When Wang Laonian had free time, he would count on his fingers one by one, feeling that his old bones should still be able to live for another ten years.

Ten years later, will this land truly belong to Wang Laonian?

Can it be passed down to my son?
Although his son's whereabouts are still unknown...

To have a son, you first need a wife.

Ideally, it should be a woman with a large bottom, as she's good at bearing children.

The thought was too extravagant, so extravagant that he dared not think about it too much, for his heart would pound as soon as he did.

Moreover, ever since the land was allocated, apart from these officials who came every few days to check on the crops and give guidance on farm work, no other minor officials have come to visit!

There were no demands for grain, no charges for shoes or shoes, and no forced labor. Everyone worked together to repair canals and build roads, and meals were provided; these were counted as part of the "merit."

Wang Laonian only needed to focus on dealing with the soil, sweat, seedlings, and the scorching sun overhead.

This unusual tranquility was even more precious to Wang Laonian than a full meal.

Lying on his straw mat at night, touching the wooden tablet wrapped in oilcloth, he felt it was unreal.

But as he worked day after day, the irrigation water flowed into his fields, and the rice seedlings grew taller day by day, and that sense of accomplishment was real.

However, Wang Laonian's peaceful life was disrupted by an unexpected visitor...