Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

The first snow came silently, yet with tremendous force.

For the first half of the night, the snowflakes were fine and scattered, pattering against the fortress walls and thatched roofs with a soft rustling sound. In the latter half of the night, the wind picked up, and the snowflakes turned into large, fluffy flakes, swept up by the howling north wind and cascading down in a deluge. As dawn broke, the fortress guard struggled to push open the door, which was mostly blocked by snow, and peered out to find a world draped in silver, utterly silent. Distant mountains and nearby ridges, barren fields and furrows, were all covered by a thick, soft blanket of white snow; only the sound of the wind and the soft patter of falling snowflakes remained. Roads, streams, and even the recently constructed irrigation canals had vanished beneath this vast expanse of white.

Snow has blocked the roads.

But inside Starfire Fortress, there was no panic. On the contrary, a strange, almost peaceful atmosphere permeated the air amidst the sounds of cooking smoke and snow sweeping.

Thanks to the unexpectedly bountiful autumn harvest—those unassuming clods of earth buried underground actually yielded an astonishing amount per acre, just as the fortress lord had predicted. Although the total yield didn't completely solve the food problem due to the first planting and lack of experience, the millet and beans harvested in summer and autumn, along with some grain gradually brought back from Lijiaji, and the meat and dried vegetables from the last large-scale hunt before winter—all the fortress's dozen or so cellars and granaries were filled to the brim. Li Shu's ledger clearly recorded enough food reserves for the fortress's 1,500-plus inhabitants to safely get through the winter, with even a surplus.

Firewood was already plentiful. Throughout the autumn, in addition to clearing land, Zhao Tiezhu organized people to cut down most of the mixed forest outside the fortress and to gather all the dead branches and leaves from the edge of Black Wind Ridge. The piles of firewood were neatly stacked in designated snow shelters inside the fortress. The charcoal kiln was also burning charcoal day and night. Although the quantity was not large, it was enough to supply heating for important places such as the council hall, medical ward, and school.

Inside the livestock sheds, the cattle, sheep, and horses were all covered with thick straw bedding and fed enough hay and a small amount of bean fodder for the winter. Several small braziers were even lit inside to prevent the young animals from freezing to death. The experienced old herdsmen sent by the Murong tribe led a group of people to patrol and care for the animals daily, ensuring that these important assets were safe and sound.

On a clear morning after the first snowfall, Chen Xing, bundled in a thick sheepskin coat, patrolled the fortress walls and key locations with Chen Wei, Murong Mingyue, and others. The garrison soldiers, wrapped in newly issued winter coats stuffed with reeds, spears and bows in hand, vigilantly watched the white expanse from behind the battlements, their breath instantly dispersed by the wind. The elite soldiers, divided into several teams, patrolled the main passageways and warehouse areas within the fortress. Everything was orderly and efficient.

"This snow will probably last for several days." Murong Mingyue looked up at the gray sky where snowflakes were still falling, and breathed out a cloud of white mist. "That's good. The one in the north must also be hampered by this snowstorm. At least for the next month or so, he won't be able to move his troops."

"The timing is in our favor." Chen Xing nodded, his gaze sweeping over the villagers who were busy clearing the snow from their doors, their faces showing no signs of hunger or distress. "We have ample food supplies, the walls are still strong, and people are at peace. This winter is a great opportunity for us to catch our breath, build up our reserves, and also... to educate and reform."

"Education?" Murong Mingyue glanced sideways.

"Hmm." Chen Xing looked at the larger building in the fortress that had been specially cleared and whose rooftops had been shoveled of snow—that was the expanded "Spark Academy." "In times of chaos, weapons and provisions are the bones and muscles for survival, but if you want to go far, the education and moral guidance of people are the soul. Winter is long, which is a good time to read, write, understand principles, and talk about the past."

His plan had already been discussed with Wu Xuejiu and others. This winter, Xinghuo Fort could not simply be a period of hibernation. Apart from necessary military training, craftsmanship, and daily chores, he wanted to use this time to systematically begin cultural enlightenment and ideological integration.

The first measure was to expand the "Spark Academy." Previously, the academy only accommodated a small number of bright children and young leaders; now it was open to all children aged ten to fifteen, regardless of gender or ethnicity, with compulsory enrollment. Led by Wu Xuejiu, and assisted by Li Shu and two other elderly refugees with some literacy, classes were held for two hours daily. The curriculum went beyond mere literacy, including basic arithmetic, explanations of Spark Fortress's self-defined "Regulations," and… the "investigation of things" and "storytelling" that Chen Xing had requested to be added.

The second item was "night classes" for adult residents. Three times every ten days, several braziers were lit in the largest hall of the school, where Chen Xing would personally give lectures, or invite scholars like Wu Xuejiu and He Lansou to tell stories of historical anecdotes, local customs, and even basic analyses of military strategy and agriculture. Ostensibly, it was "storytelling" and "relief," but in reality, it was an educational and entertaining way to convey ideas.

The third item is the "Craftsmanship Workshop." Organized by Wang Jian, experienced craftsmen take turns to the stage to explain tool usage, material identification, and basic craft principles, encouraging them to learn from each other and improve. Similarly, there are "meritorious service" incentives.

The plan was not without resistance at the beginning. Many adults who came from migrant backgrounds and had struggled to survive for half their lives felt that "learning to read and listen to stories" was a waste of time and that they would rather sleep more or do some handicrafts to earn merit. Some Hu tribesmen even felt awkward and uncomfortable sitting and listening to lectures.

Chen Xing wasn't in a hurry. He started with the children and young people. The school provided a daily snack, which was already a temptation for many families. Young teachers like Li Shu taught effectively, avoiding arbitrary beatings and scoldings, and instead often rewarding diligent and fast-improving students with "merit points." Gradually, the sound of students reading aloud and the occasional laughter emanating from the school became a unique feature of Xue Ri Fort. Some parents, dragged along by their children to "attend classes," either out of curiosity or pride, gradually began to sit in the evening classroom as well.

Chen Xing's "story" is particularly captivating.

He never read from the book. Sometimes, he would tell stories of wise rulers from the "previous dynasty" who were good at accepting advice and loved their people like their own children, subtly conveying the idea of ​​valuing public opinion and team decision-making; sometimes, he would tell the legend of a craftsman who benefited his hometown by ingeniously improving tools and was eventually rewarded, echoing the "Order of Merit" which praised innovation; sometimes, he would analyze the reasons for victory and defeat by recounting a famous battle, emphasizing the importance of discipline, intelligence, and popular support, which made the officers under Chen Wei and Murong Mingyue nod frequently; sometimes, he would even tell some strange tales from overseas, describing how people in the "far west" measured the land, observed the stars, and made exquisite machines, which many people regarded as absurd, but also quietly opened another window of imagination.

He paid special attention to weaving principles into stories, avoiding empty preaching. When discussing "rules," he not only spoke of military regulations but also of "common agreements," telling the story of a merchant whose business flourished because of his integrity but was abandoned by his cronies because of fraud. When discussing "unity," he told the ancient fable of "breaking the arrow" and the true story of how the people of Xinghuobao worked together to build a canal and defend against foreign enemies. When discussing "pragmatism," he bluntly stated, "It doesn't matter whether a cat is black or white, as long as it catches mice, it's a good cat." Although his words were rough, they drew loud applause from Zhao Tiezhu and others.

Murong Mingyue attended almost every session. Initially, she came with observation and scrutiny, but gradually became immersed in the stories. She discovered that the core of Chen Xing's "stories" shared similarities with the tribal hero legends and stories of the rise and fall of the Central Plains dynasties she had been exposed to since childhood, yet they also had subtle and profound differences. They lacked some of the mystique of destiny and the romance of aristocratic heroes, and instead emphasized the power of ordinary people, rules and systems, and pragmatic innovation. This made her sometimes ponder deeply, and sometimes suddenly realize something.

After a night class, the snow stopped for a while, and the cool moonlight shone on the snow-covered courtyard. Everyone dispersed, and Murong Mingyue lagged a few steps behind, walking alongside Chen Xing.

"I have learned a great deal from the story of Shang Yang setting up the wooden pole that the Fortress Lord spoke of today," she said softly. "The reward for moving the wooden pole may seem like child's play, but it was actually the beginning of gaining the trust of the people and establishing the authority of the law. Without trust, the law will not be enforced. During our tribe's southward migration, there was a chieftain who neglected public duty for personal reasons and failed to distinguish between rewards and punishments, which caused the tribe to become disloyal. Thinking about this today, I feel particularly alarmed."

Chen Xing glanced at her with some surprise, not expecting her to make such a deep connection. "Young lady, you have exceptional insight. It's easy to legislate, but difficult to enforce it. The difficulty lies in the word 'trust.' A single misstep by those in power can lead to disastrous consequences. With the rules of Xinghuo Fortress newly established, I am trembling with fear, as if walking on thin ice, for fear of losing the trust of the people."

Murong Mingyue remained silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "In the stories told by the Fortress Master, it is often mentioned that 'the people are of utmost importance,' and that 'many hands make light work.' However, in chaotic times of vying for supremacy, heroes and valiant figures are often needed to raise their voices and lead the masses. Between these two, which do you, the Fortress Master, consider more important?"

This is a very sensitive question, involving the very source of power and the legitimacy of rule.

Chen Xing stopped and gazed at the icicles hanging from the eaves. He slowly said, "Heroes may rise to prominence for a time, but not forever. True power lies in the hands of countless ordinary people. They may be dull or short-sighted, but they need to eat, to clothe themselves, to survive, and to live with hope. Whoever can show them that hope and lead them step by step to achieve it is the true hero, and only then can they obtain truly lasting power. This power is far deeper and more...reliable than personal bravery or cunning."

He turned his head and looked at Murong Mingyue's profile, which was illuminated by the cool moonlight: "Miss Murong is a leader of troops. You should know that if every soldier in a unit knows why they are fighting, trusts their commander, and abides by their discipline, then even a hundred men can be as good as a thousand. If they only blindly follow individual strength or are coerced or bribed, then even a thousand men will be like scattered sand. This applies to governing an army, and it also applies to governing the people."

Murong Mingyue felt a jolt, as if lightning had struck her mind. She recalled her father's leadership of the tribe; though brave and forthright, he relied heavily on personal prestige and tribal customs. In times of great calamity, the tribe's hearts easily scattered. She also thought of the tribe's followers since their southward migration. Initially, it was out of blood ties and habit; later, it was out of survival instinct and trust in her. But they always lacked a more solid, clearer shared goal and a shared set of rules. Everything Chen Xing did at Xinghuo Fortress—establishing rules, recording merits, and promoting education—seemed to be building precisely this deeper, more stable cohesion.

She remained silent for a long time until Chen Xing, thinking she was cold, spoke up to remind her, at which point she snapped out of her reverie.

"The Lord's insightful remarks have been very enlightening for Mingyue." She bowed respectfully, this time with heartfelt admiration.

The snow fell intermittently, stopping and starting, completely enveloping Xinghuo Fortress in white silence. Outside the fortress walls lay the bleakness of winter and potential threats; inside, the hearths were warm, the sounds of reading could be faintly heard, and in this rare peaceful winter, people's hearts were quietly nourished and united by another force.

For Xinghuo Fortress, the first harsh winter was not only a test of resources, but also a silent sowing of ideas. The stories heard, the words learned, and the principles understood in the warm halls were like seeds buried deep in the snow, quietly waiting for the warm spring sun to sprout.

Standing atop the fortress, Chen Xing gazed at the snow-covered mountains and fields, a sense of tranquility washing over him. The struggles and battles of the outside world had not ceased, but he knew that he was building a foundation for this small base that was even more solid than the city walls—the foundation of the human heart.

The power that has settled down this winter may determine how far Xinghuobao can go and how brightly it can shine in the future.