Three Kingdoms: A Million Soldiers Grown from the Fields

Chapter 214 Cold Face
The clerk took it, examined the seal and patterns carefully against the light, and scratched a specific spot with his fingernail to confirm it was correct. He then deftly picked up a standard wooden ladle, scooped out two pounds of plump millet from a large wooden bucket about half a person's height, and poured it into Liu Sansao's open cloth bag.

"Auntie, here you go." The clerk's attitude was neither enthusiastic nor arrogant; he handled things strictly by the book.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" Liu Sansao happily hugged the cloth bag.

This is real grain! Not some thin porridge! If she mixes it with wild vegetables, it will be enough for her and Gouwa to have several hearty meals! She hesitated for a moment, then used the remaining small grain coupon to exchange for a pinch of salt, because without salt, she wouldn't have much energy.

As she walked back carrying rice and salt, she couldn't help but stop when she passed the newly set up "primary school shed" in the camp.

Several cheap oil lamps were lit in the thatched hut, casting a dim but warm glow.

Dozens of teenagers, ranging from five or six to twelve or thirteen years old, were crammed onto a simple bench. In front of them was a well-dressed, well-to-do old gentleman, who was pointing to a black-painted wooden board hanging on the wall and writing on it with a lime pen.

"At the beginning of life, people are inherently good..." The old man's voice was aged but clear.

The children followed along, their voices varying in pitch, yet filled with a curious earnestness.

Gouwa was also inside, sitting upright, his little face red from the cold, but his eyes were bright as he stared at the blackboard.

Looking at her son, Liu Sansao felt a lump in her throat.

In Jizhou, literacy was something only wealthy landlords and rich families could afford. Her son, Gouwa, the son of a Yellow Turban rebel, could now sit in a school and study with a teacher! Just a few months ago, she wouldn't have dared to even dream of this.

"Third Sister-in-law, are you picking up Gouwa?" a woman who was also waiting to pick up her child greeted her.

"Hey, Aunt Li." Liu Sansao recognized her; like herself, she was a wife whose husband had joined the army.

Looking at the children in the shed, Aunt Li sighed, "What a kind old man! At his age, he still comes to teach these mud-covered kids in the snow. I heard that his tuition is completely free, and the paper and pens are even provided by the county school."

“It is the former general’s benevolence and righteousness!” an old man interjected. He was the camp’s carpenter.

"I heard that this elementary school was personally appointed by the former general and supervised by Prince Wang Lie! The writing brushes, ink, paper and inkstones were all allocated from the government treasury! If the children can recognize a few characters, they will be better off than us who are blind in the future!"

“That’s right! My husband sent a letter back from the Anbei Army. The letter was written by a literate clerk in the camp, but he signed it himself in a crooked way! He said that General Gao said that soldiers who can’t read can’t even understand military orders and won’t get promoted!” Aunt Li said.

Everyone nodded in agreement, their eyes filled with hope as they looked at the children in the thatched hut who were swaying their heads and reciting their lessons with the teacher.

The sound of reading aloud is more precious than anything else in this refugee camp.

Liu Sansao took Gouwa home and cooked a thick porridge with freshly harvested millet and wild vegetables, seasoning it with salt.

Gouwa ate until his little belly was round, saying it tasted better than the porridge at the camp.

After finishing his meal, Gouwa lay on the straw mat and, by the light of the fire pit, used a charred stick to draw the characters "人" (person) and "初" (beginning) that he had learned during the day on a patch of mud that Liu Sansao had swept flat.

"Mom, look! This is a 'person'! The teacher said that a person is someone who stands upright and tall!" Gouwa excitedly pointed it out to Liu Sansao.

Looking at the two childish drawings on the ground, and then at her son's bright eyes, Liu Sansao felt all the fatigue of the day disappear.

She stroked Gouwa's head: "Good, good! My son can write now! Better than your father! He'll definitely amount to something in the future!"

As night deepened, the cold wind howled even more fiercely outside the shack.

Liu Sansao held the sleeping Gouwa in her arms, listening to the wind, but no longer felt the despair and fear she had felt in Guangzong.

The son in his arms was warm, and there was real rice in the grain sack in the corner. The man was in the army camp, and although he was risking his life, at least he had something to look forward to. The sky in Bingzhou seemed to have really changed.

She knew there might be war in the spring, and she knew how brutal the barbarians were, but at this moment, in this thick shack, supported by this faint hope, the harsh winter didn't seem so unbearable.

She tightened the old quilt covering her son and fell into a deep sleep.

On the banks of Zhaoyu Lake, at the Anbei Army Camp.

The night was as dark as ink, and the cold wind whipped snowflakes against the camp's fences and watchtowers, emitting a mournful howl.

The training ground was covered with a foot of snow, but it was now packed with people.

The surrounding high walls were illuminated by the firelight, making it magnificent.

Nearly 10,000 Anbei soldiers, who had been in camp for thirteen days, stood in a crooked square formation in the biting cold wind.

Most of them were only wearing thin fur coats or lined jackets, shivering from the cold, their teeth chattering.

On the platform for reviewing the troops, only two thick torches were burning.

The flickering firelight illuminated Gao Shun's cold, hard face, which looked as if it had been sculpted from granite.

He stood clad in iron armor, his hand on his sword, like a silent, malevolent god.

Chen Zhong and Zhang Bailu stood on either side of him behind him.

Wearing brand-new Anbei Army Sima leather armor, Chen Zhong straightened his back and scanned his former comrades-in-arms with sharp eyes.

Zhang Bailu remained expressionless, his hand resting on the hilt of the knife at his waist.

"Are you cold?" Gao Shun's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly pierced through the cold wind and hit everyone's ears, icy cold and devoid of any emotion.

The audience was deathly silent, save for the howling of the wind and snow.

"I'm asking you, are you cold?!" Gao Shun suddenly raised his voice, like a thunderclap!
“Cold…” came the sparse, trembling voice.

"Speak louder! Haven't you eaten?!"

"Cold!!" This time, nearly 10,000 people roared with all their might, filled with resentment from being tormented by the bitter cold.

“It’s cold, that’s right!” Gao Shun’s voice was firm and decisive.

"Remember this bone-chilling cold! Remember this cold that freezes your toes off! Think of your wives, children, parents, and siblings! Aren't they huddled in their shacks right now, shivering with cold?!"

A commotion arose in the audience, many of whom were reminded of their loved ones at home.

"Spring is coming, and the barbarian's blades will be colder than this wind! Their horses' hooves will trample the fields you've just been allocated! Their arrows will pierce the straw curtains of your huts! The blood of your wives and children will stain this snow red!"

Gao Shun's voice was like a knife chilled to the bone, scraping through everyone's hearts.

"Tell me! Do you want your wives and children to experience the pain of having their toes frozen off?! Do you want to see your shacks burned down and the seeds you just sown trampled by the hooves of the barbarian hordes?!"

"I don't want to!!" This time, the roar was filled with fierce energy.

Despite being Yellow Turban soldiers, these men had witnessed more brutal battlefields than some soldiers from Bingzhou.

"If you don't want to, then stand up straight! Straighten your spines!" Gao Shun shouted sternly.

"From the moment you signed your military register and received your Anbei military badges, you were no longer vagrants and bandits! You were soldiers! You were the shield that guarded the border and protected your families! You were the sword that cut off the heads of the barbarians and exchanged them for grain, land, and a better future!"

He suddenly drew the ring-pommel sword from his waist, its gleaming blade reflecting a blinding cold light under the torchlight!
"Military law! It is your heaven!"

"Seventeen articles! Fifty-four executions! These are the swords hanging over your necks!"

Those who cower and retreat! Slay them!

"..."

With each execution order read out by Gao Shun, his voice rose a notch, becoming icy and chilling.

During this period, the phrase he repeated most often was the Seventeen Articles of Military Law and the Fifty-Four Executions, all to ensure that all the Anbei soldiers remembered them firmly. "Military orders are as heavy as mountains! Anyone who disobeys, no matter who they are, will be executed on the spot!" Gao Shun sheathed his sword with clean and swift movements.

"Did you hear me?!"

"Listen carefully!!!" Nearly ten thousand people roared loudly, their voices filled with a fierce intensity.

"Okay!" Gao Shun's face remained expressionless.

He looked up at the moon and realized it wasn't time yet, so he continued to stand in the wind and snow until the day's physical training ended.

"Now, all battalions, return to your barracks! Tomorrow, roll call will be at the drill ground at the first quarter of the morning! Those who are late, you surely understand!"

With the order to disband, many people, almost supporting each other, trudged through the deep snow towards their assigned barracks.

The barracks had a large communal sleeping area covered with thick layers of dry straw.

The conditions here are not basic; the rooms are warm and cozy, and each person has a quilt.

The new recruits huddled together on the communal bunks, wrapped in blankets, silence enveloping the barracks.

"Damn it... I'm freezing to death..." In the corner, a man cursed under his breath, "Is this any kind of life? It's worse than crawling through piles of corpses in Guangzong!"

"Say less," a slightly older veteran whispered.

"Think about it carefully, is it really more uncomfortable than crawling through a pile of dead bodies?"

He fell silent.

"Give."

In the darkness, a hard object was shoved into his hand—half a pressed cake.

"You?" The man was taken aback and looked at his comrade beside him.

"Eat sparingly, just to fill your stomach and keep warm." The person pressing the flatbread for him spoke in a low voice.

"Think about your mother, think about how, after the land was divided, your mother and wife wouldn't have to go outside to freeze in the dead of winter."

The man clutched the half-pressed cake tightly, his nose stung with tears, and he said nothing more.

The days that followed were like hell for the Anbei New Army.

At the beginning of the Mao hour, which is around five in the morning, the sky in Bingzhou was still so dark that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. The piercing assembly horn broke the silence of the cold night.

Like startled rabbits, the new recruits sprang up from their cold bunks, hurriedly put on their fur coats, grabbed their wooden training weapons, and rushed to the drill ground.

If they arrived even a moment late, they would be greeted by Zhang Bailu, the military law officer, and his ruthless military law officers!
The morning exercise consisted of only one thing: running laps around the snow-covered training ground until the body was steaming with heat, dispelling the chill and chasing away the last trace of sleepiness and laziness.

Then came the tedious and maddening drill exercises.

"stand at attention!"

"Take a break!"

"To the left!"

"turn right!"

"Forward march!"

Gao Shun and the veterans of the Bingzhou army, like the strictest instructors, roared loudly.

If you move too slowly or your posture is wrong, you'll either be met with a barrage of angry words or, in severe cases, kicked in the chest and knocked to the ground in the snow.

"Useless! Can't even tell left from right! On the battlefield, you'll just be offering your head to the barbarians!"

"Legs are weak? Want me to add ten more laps?"

"Watch out! Watch out! Are you blind?! That dog's saber in front of you isn't blind!"

By the end of the day, the recruits were exhausted, their hands and feet were numb with cold, and all they could hear were their officers' roars and their comrades' panting.

The meals consisted of unlimited millet porridge or bean rice, along with pickled vegetables, a piece of fatty meat, and a bowl of oily egg drop soup.

Gao Shun would push everyone to their physical limits, but he would also make sure to provide plenty of meat and oil.

Fortunately, General Zhang Hou provided tremendous support, and frozen meat was delivered every three to five days, amounting to around ten thousand catties, mostly fatty pieces.

After the initial formation training, the subsequent equipment training was even more intense.

Holding heavy wooden swords and spears, they slashed, stabbed, and parried repeatedly in a monotonous manner.

Gao Shun's requirements were that the movements must be standard and the force must be fully applied, otherwise it had to be started again! He practiced until his arms were so swollen that he couldn't lift them, and until he couldn't even hold chopsticks steadily while eating.

"It hurts?! That's right! Remember this pain!" Gao Shun's roar was the unchanging background noise on the training field.

"On the battlefield, the barbarian's blade will hurt you a hundred times more than this! The more you sweat now, the less blood you bleed on the battlefield, or even the less likely you are to lose your lives! It's to protect the homes behind you!"

The most despairing thing is to lie in ambush in the snow.

Lying motionless in the cold snow, covered only by a thin layer of snow for camouflage, they would remain motionless for several quarters of an hour or half an hour.

The cold wind scraped across the exposed skin like a knife, chilling even the bones to the bone.

During a training exercise, Liu San almost froze to death. It was Chen Zhong, who was next to him, who noticed something was wrong and pinched his philtrum hard, pulling him back from the brink of death.

Upon waking, Liu San looked at Chen Zhong's face, which was purple from the cold, and burst into tears: "Brother Zhong... I miss my wife... and Gouwa... I don't want to be a soldier anymore... it's too hard..."

Chen Zhong grabbed him by the collar, his eyes bloodshot: "Don't want to be a soldier?! Your wife and son are counting on you to get land and live a good life in the camp! And now you're quitting? Believe me or not, I'll chop you up right now according to military law!"
Think of Jizhou! Think of how you escaped! Think of those villagers who starved to death by the roadside! If you can't even endure this little hardship, you bastard, don't call yourself my brother!

Looking into Chen Zhong's eyes, Liu San saw that familiar ruthlessness that belonged to the old Yellow Turban brothers, and then he remembered the tragic scenes in Jizhou. His sobs choked in his throat.

He wiped his face hard, grabbed the cold wooden gun, and climbed back into the snowdrift.

The brutal training was like sifting through sand in a great wave.

Some people broke down, were whipped, confined, or even publicly flogged and expelled from the military camp.

Many others, amidst pain and fear, gradually developed a different look in their eyes.

Shedding their fear and numbness, they gained a touch of the perseverance and ruthlessness that belong to soldiers.

The ranks gradually became orderly, the commands became more unified, and the slashing and stabbing movements took on a fierce and ruthless air.

Gao Shun's infamous reputation reached its peak in the Anbei New Army and even in the entire refugee camp.

When children cry, adults can immediately stop them by threatening, "If you cry again, the cold-faced Gao will take you away."

However, even amidst this rigorous training, a sense of shared hardship, something never experienced in the Yellow Turban camp, was quietly being forged.

Gradually, they discovered that no matter what they were practicing, their captain, whom they called Cold-Faced Gao, was also training in the same way as them!
(End of this chapter)