Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

The dust settling on power did not cause much of a stir in Xinghuo Fortress. Although Zhao Tiezhu's lingering resentment had not completely dissipated, as he said, growing crops was more important than anything else. He quickly threw all his energy into the increasingly urgent task of spring plowing, leading his men to the fields before dawn every day and only dragging themselves back to the fortress covered in mud in the evening, where they would collapse into bed without even bothering to complain.

The soldiers and civilians within the fortress gradually grew accustomed to the presence of the red-clad female general and her cavalry. Every morning, a troop of light cavalry could be seen galloping out from the western slope camp, scattering like arrows parting the water into the surrounding plains, hills, and forests, returning at dusk with various intelligence reports and the occasional hunted game. The sound of their hooves became a constant background noise outside the fortress, and their presence seemed to lessen the fear in the hearts of the fortress inhabitants of the wilderness and unknown enemies.

Chen Xing and Murong Mingyue inevitably began to cross paths more frequently.

As the supreme commander of the Starfire Battalion and the commander of the Cavalry Command, the two frequently communicated and discussed matters such as defense adjustments, intelligence gathering, joint cavalry and infantry exercises, and even personnel selection and merit records within the newly formed Cavalry Command. They could often be seen standing side-by-side or sitting opposite each other, conversing, in the council hall, the drill ground, and even on the fortress walls.

Initially, the conversation always revolved around specific matters.

"Yesterday, our scouts spotted a small group of refugees, about twenty people, thirty li to the northeast. They came from the north, dressed in rags, and seemed to have escaped from the territory under the command of the Black Mountain Commander." Murong Mingyue placed a small pebble, representing the refugees, in the corresponding position on the sand table, tracing an arc with her fingertip. "We've already sent two riders to keep watch at a distance, to see where they're going. If they head towards our fortress, what should we do?"

Chen Xing stared at the sand table and pondered, "If they are truly refugees, unarmed, and mostly elderly and weak, they can be taken in. However, they need to be quarantined and observed for several days to confirm that they are free of disease and not spies. You can discuss this with Zhou Dashan and set up a temporary shelter between the west slope and the main village, in accordance with the 'New Supplementary Civil Regulations'."

"Alright." Murong Mingyue nodded, then pointed to another spot, "Also, fifty miles to the west, the nomadic tents of the Ulolan tribe have moved about ten miles eastward compared to this time of year. Although they haven't crossed the border, their movements are worth noting. I suspect they may have learned of the Balut tribe's collapse and are intentionally probing, or even encroaching on the grasslands left behind by the Wild Fox Plains."

"The Uloran Tribe..." Chen Xing tapped his fingers lightly on the table, "How does their strength compare to the Balut Tribe?"

"Slightly stronger. There are about three or four hundred archers, who are more skilled in mountain nomadism and are cunning." Murong Mingyue's tone was slightly cold. "If Bald He is not dead, he will likely join them."

"Strengthen reconnaissance on the west side, especially at the mountain passes," Chen Xing decided. "Also, spread the word that the Balut tribe was wiped out by a large passing Han army, leaving corpses strewn across the fields. We only managed to salvage some scraps and gather some remnants. Let's see how the Ulolan tribe reacts."

A hint of surprise flashed in Murong Mingyue's eyes, then she understood: "A bluff, feigning weakness to the enemy?"

"Buy time," Chen Xing said. "Before spring planting, summer cultivation, and autumn harvest, I don't want to start any more wars. If we can make them suspicious and hesitant to advance eastward, that would be best."

Similar discussions took place daily. Murong Mingyue discovered that although Chen Xing was young and less familiar with the specific circumstances of the grassland tribes than she was, he was meticulous in his thinking, had a long-term vision, was adept at grasping the key points from chaotic information, and made decisive yet cautious decisions. He could always come up with unexpected yet incisive strategies. This made her unconsciously more serious and inquisitive when reporting and discussing, rather than simply following orders.

Chen Xing also greatly admired Murong Mingyue's competence and pragmatism. The intelligence she provided was always specific and clear, her analysis of advantages and disadvantages was objective and calm, and her execution of orders was swift and decisive. More importantly, she could understand and implement his rules based on modern concepts very well, and even offer supplementary suggestions that fit the actual situation during implementation. Discussing military affairs with her was extremely efficient and often sparked new ideas.

Outside of official duties, the two also unintentionally observed another side of each other.

One day, Chen Xing watched the newly integrated First Cavalry Team practice archery at the drill ground. Murong Mingyue personally demonstrated, galloping on horseback, turning around and firing three arrows in quick succession, each hitting the bullseye of the straw target swaying in the wind a hundred paces away, drawing cheers from the surrounding soldiers. Chen Xing couldn't help but clap his hands and exclaim, "General, what excellent archery!"

Murong Mingyue reined in her horse and turned around, a little sweat on her forehead, her face flushed with a healthy red in the sunlight. Upon hearing this, she simply smiled and said, "A mere trick, not as good as the Lord's strategic planning." Despite her words, there was a bright look of recognition in her eyes.

Another day, Murong Mingyue came to the fortress to consult with Wang Jian about improving the horseshoes of her cavalry, which were wearing out too quickly. Chen Xing happened to be there, discussing with several old carpenters how to improve the efficiency of the tipper. She didn't immediately interrupt, but stood aside and listened quietly. She saw Chen Xing squatting on the ground, drawing simple diagrams on a flat surface with charcoal, patiently explaining concepts like "lever-saving" and "gear transmission" to the wrinkled old craftsmen. His language was simple and clear, and he even demonstrated with his own hands, picking up tools to demonstrate. The old craftsmen were initially bewildered, but gradually their eyes lit up, and they nodded repeatedly. At that moment, this young fortress lord didn't exude the ruthless authority of a shrewd tyrant, but rather a focused, almost obsessive, light, as if he were facing not simple farm tools, but some exquisite work of art.

Murong Mingyue's heart stirred slightly. She had met many powerful chieftains—some brave, some cunning, some cruel, and some feigning benevolence—but rarely had she seen one so engrossed in "ingenious skills and crafts" and genuinely believing that these things could change one's destiny. She suddenly understood why, even the most ordinary craftsmen and farmers in Starfire Fortress had something rarely seen elsewhere in their eyes: a kind of "hope."

As they spent more time together, some subtle habits and traits began to emerge. When discussing matters, Chen Xing would unconsciously tap the table with her fingers; when deep in thought, her gaze would drift slightly. She ate a simple diet, rarely drank alcohol, but was quite particular about the strength of her tea. She was strict with her subordinates, but never verbally abused them; instead, she was exceptionally lenient with those who were thoughtful and had expertise. Chen Xing, in turn, discovered that this female general was actually not a talkative person in private, but she always kept her word. She seemed to have a strong affinity for the color red, even her everyday clothes were often deep or dark red. She treated her subordinates like family, especially children who had lost their fathers or brothers, whose gaze would soften unconsciously.

Occasionally, during a brief break after discussing serious matters, they would chat about something unrelated.

Once, the topic turned to the starry sky over the grasslands. Murong Mingyue gazed at the darkening sky outside the window, her eyes filled with a distant longing: "Back in the Chulechuan region, the summer night sky was so low it seemed you could reach out and pluck it from the sky. The Milky Way stretched across the sky, so bright you could see the dewdrops on the tips of the grass. Children lay beside the carts, listening to the old men tell stories of the wolf god and the stars with their morin khuur (horsehead fiddle) and mournful long songs… Thinking back on those times now, it feels like a lifetime ago."

Chen Xing listened silently without interrupting. He could hear the deep homesickness and sorrow for the past hidden beneath that calm tone. After a long while, he slowly said, "The starry sky here may not be as vast as the grasslands, but it still has the Milky Way and the Big Dipper. Perhaps one day, we can let the children of this land lie peacefully under the starry sky and listen to their own stories."

Murong Mingyue turned her head and glanced at him. In the twilight, his profile appeared both gentle and resolute. She didn't speak, but simply nodded slightly.

On another occasion, Murong Mingyue inquired about the "extraordinary grain from the Western Regions," the potato. She was filled with curiosity about this crop, which she had never seen before but which Chen Xing had placed high hopes on.

Chen Xing smiled, a rare occurrence, with a subtle expression as if introducing his prized creation: "This plant doesn't discriminate based on soil type, tolerates poor conditions, and its yield... is decent. Most importantly, it can fill your stomach, serve as grain, and also be used as a vegetable. After the first harvest in summer, please try it; roasted or stewed, it's delicious."

"Does the Lord of the Fortress seem to have great confidence in this item?" Murong Mingyue asked.

"Confidence stems from understanding." Chen Xing's gaze fell on the greening fields outside the window. "In this world, man-made disasters are worse than natural ones. But if there are more food sources to save lives, perhaps more people can live, and more hope can be found."

These conversations are often short, scattered during busy work breaks, like twinkling stars, not dazzling, but quietly illuminating a more three-dimensional and vivid image of each other in their perceptions.

Inside the fortress, some whispers began to circulate. Some said the fortress lord relied heavily on and trusted General Murong; others said the two were quite well-matched; still others, more experienced and prudent, secretly worried whether the "Hu woman's" identity would affect the lord's prestige. But these voices, under the increasingly heavy workload and strict discipline, were merely ripples on the surface of water, quickly dissipating.

On this day, the two inspected the newly expanded defensive outposts together. At a newly built earthen outpost, as the sun was setting, the golden afterglow stretched the distant mountains, the nearby fields, and the shadows of the two standing side by side into long stature.

Below the sentry post, several soldiers from the garrison and cavalrymen from the Murong tribe huddled together, eating coarse grain cakes with plain water, occasionally exchanging a few words of laughter. Although there was still an accent barrier, the atmosphere was quite harmonious. Further away, farmers were still busy working in the fields as they returned home late, and wisps of smoke rose from the direction of Xinghuo Fort and the West Slope Camp.

Looking at this land that was beginning to show signs of peace, Murong Mingyue suddenly spoke softly: "Sometimes I feel like all of this is a dream. Just a few months ago, I was leading my people on a desperate escape across the snowy plains, not knowing where I would be tomorrow, or whether I would see the next sunrise."

Chen Xing gazed into the distance and said calmly, "Whether it's a dream or reality, the road is always made step by step. You deserve a great deal of credit for getting to where we are today."

Murong Mingyue turned to look at him, the setting sun casting a soft golden glow on his silhouette. Something within her seemed to stir gently at these simple words. Since their southward migration, she had carried the weight of her entire tribe's survival on her shoulders, each step fraught with peril. Had anyone ever told her, "You've done a great service"? The reliance of her people, the expectations of her elders, the swords of her enemies—these constituted the entirety of her world. And now, in this foreign twilight, hearing such recognition from a recently acquainted ally with a special status, she felt a strange, long-lost sense of ease.

"You flatter me, Lord." She looked away, her tone still calm. "If Starfire Fortress hadn't taken us in, Bright Moon and her followers would have long since become withered bones in the wasteland."

"It's just a mutual arrangement," Chen Xing smiled and said no more.

The two stood silently for a moment until the sun had completely sunk behind the mountain ridge and dusk had fallen, before riding back at the reminder of their guards.

The horses' hooves clattered on the damp dirt road of early spring. The evening breeze carried a coolness and the fresh scent of grass and trees. The two men stood half a horse's length apart, remaining silent the entire way.

But some things, like the grass and trees that quietly grow in the spring night, have silently sprouted roots and buds in corners where no one notices.

It has nothing to do with romance; perhaps it is just that in the midst of chaos and wandering, two lonely souls bearing heavy burdens, on their journey side by side, accidentally caught a glimpse of a flame in each other's eyes that was similar to their own, and beneath that flame, the same soft weariness and longing.

Feelings begin to stir, like a stream flowing through the crevices of rocks, silent yet subtly changing the shape of the riverbed.