Border Soldier: My fiancée snatched credit and broke off the engagement, so I promptly became a marq

Before dawn the next day, Han Wenshan started working on the granary.

It's not the Hall of Military Merits.

This is not a medical account.

It is a granary.

In the southwest corner of Blackstone Fortress, a row of low houses clings to the city wall, with frozen sacks piled up at the doorways. Normally, nobody likes to come here; only the cooks are familiar with it.

Old Chai is in charge of cooking.

Stone carried the grain.

Ma Liu once stole half a cold pancake and was chased and beaten by Lao Chai for half a street.

Now, Han's personal guards are blocking the entrance to the granary, keeping more than a dozen cooks outside.

A white wolf guard, holding a booklet, stood on the threshold, his voice high-pitched.

"The cooks' rations and pay for this month will be temporarily withheld."

Shi Tou suddenly became anxious.

"Why should I?"

The grain official flipped through the booklet.

"He privately followed Chen Mu and disrupted military discipline; he is awaiting trial."

Ma Liu jumped up: "Where were you when we were guarding the north wall?"

The personal guard pressed the scabbard forward.

Ma Liu was forced to take a half step back.

Old Chai, supported by others, still couldn't straighten his back, but his voice was hoarse as he roared, "Withholding our rations, fine. But what about the rations of the three families who died in battle?"

The grain official didn't look up.

"Those in the same unit are guilty of the same crime; they are temporarily detained."

As soon as those four words were uttered, the cookhouse fell silent.

That's even harsher than insults.

Same camp, same crime.

The living have no food.

Even the dead have no food at home.

Stone's eyes turned red.

He still has his elderly mother at home.

Xiao Tao, who died that night at the north wall, had a daughter who had just learned to walk.

The cooks fought desperately, unafraid of death.

But I'm worried that my family will go hungry.

Han Wenshan stood at a distance, watching this side.

He didn't come over.

This is something he doesn't need to do personally.

The knife doesn't necessarily have to be aimed at the neck.

It hurts just as much if you cut into a grain sack.

When Lu Shuangyi arrived, the fire brigade was almost out of control.

Zhou Tie pressed on Shi Tou's shoulder.

"Don't do it!"

Stone gritted his teeth.

"They're withholding food rations from people who have died!"

Zhou Tie also wanted to curse, but he knew that as long as the cooks made the first move, Han Wenshan could confirm the "mutiny".

Ji Yunzhou arrived soon after.

Yan Heng followed behind, wearing a black cloak, his face even colder than the night before.

The grain official quickly bowed.

Han Wenshan then slowly approached.

"Military rations and pay should be issued on a battalion-by-battalion basis."

He looked at the cookhouse.

"It is not excessive to temporarily detain all those in the camp who are suspected of crimes."

Old Chai coughed angrily, his face turning pale from the tearing of the wound on his back.

"What crime are we being charged with?"

Han Wenshan looked at him.

"He secretly obeyed Chen Mu's orders."

"The spoils seized by the White Fox Guard were illegally distributed."

"Privately carrying up the list of military merits."

"Which one isn't a crime?"

The faces of the cooks in the kitchen turned grim.

These are the things they are most proud of.

Now it's all become a sin.

Yan Heng looked at Ji Yunzhou.

Where is the Blackstone Fortress food register?

The clerk should have been there.

However, Registrar Su's shoulder injury had not healed last night and he was still in the military medical camp.

The clerk who was temporarily in charge of the grain registers rushed over, knelt in the snow, but his hands were empty.

"The grain register... the grain register is missing."

Everyone fell silent.

A faint smile flashed in Han Wenshan's eyes.

Ji Yunzhou frowned.

"When did we meet again?"

The clerk stammered, "Last night, after the military judge sealed the Hall of Military Merits, I went to retrieve it. The cabinet was open, but the register was gone."

The cookhouse was thrown into chaos.

The grain register is gone.

There was no evidence whatsoever regarding who should receive grain rations or who should receive pensions.

Han Wenshan said calmly, "Since the grain registers are lost, they should be temporarily withheld to prevent anyone from claiming them fraudulently."

The stone couldn't help but rush forward.

"I'll f*** your mother!"

Zhou Tie hugged him tightly.

The military officer's sword was half-drawn.

Yan Heng's gaze turned cold.

"If you go any further, you will be dealt with according to military law for ramming."

Shi Tou was pressed into the snow, and he was almost in tears.

It's not fear.

It's about holding it in.

At that moment, a slight noise came from the direction of the medical tent.

Chen Mu did not come out.

He can't get out.

Two military officers stood guard outside the tent, and Lin Qinghe wouldn't let him leave the tent.

But the curtain was lifted a little, and Su Wan came out from inside.

She was holding a small wooden box.

His hands were still wrapped in burn bandages, and he walked very slowly.

Lin Qinghe followed behind her, her face pale.

Han Wenshan's gaze flickered slightly when he saw Su Wan.

Su Wan walked to the granary and placed the wooden box on the snow.

"Here is a supplementary register."

The grain official's expression changed.

Han Wenshan squinted.

Su Wan opened the wooden box.

It doesn't contain a complete grain register.

It was a few loose pieces of paper.

The edges were scorched by fire, and some of the characters were blurred.

Su Wan said in a low voice, "On the night the Military Merit Hall caught fire, I only managed to salvage a portion of it. The families, monthly rations, and pensions of the three cooks who died in battle are all in this stack."

She spread the paper out.

A gust of wind blew, and the corners of the paper fluttered.

She pressed it down with her injured hand.

My fingertips were trembling from the pain.

Shi Tou glanced at it, then his voice went hoarse.

"Xiao Tao... is he at home too?"

Su Wan nodded.

"exist."

Han asked Shan, "It's just a scrap of paper, how can it be considered accurate?"

Su Wan's face paled slightly.

She knew she couldn't win an argument with Han Wenshan.

She also knows that in many people's eyes, she is still the person who wore Chen Mu's red robe of military merit.

Her words weren't strong enough.

Just then, Crippled Three squeezed out from behind the crowd.

He walks slowly.

An old, injured leg dragged in the snow, leaving marks of varying depths.

He glanced at the paper.

"It's not scraps of paper."

Han Wenshan looked at him.

"And who are you?"

The lame man looked up.

"The cook, Limpy Three."

"I managed the grain sacks for three years."

The grain official scoffed, "A cripple like him, dares to look at the grain registers?"

The lame man ignored him.

He pointed to the first piece of paper that Su Wan had pressed down.

"Xiao Tao, whose real name was Tao Ershui, was from Taojiagou in Xibao. His monthly ration was 1.6 dou, and his family consisted of three people. He died in battle at the north wall. According to the regulations for casualties in defending the city, he should receive three months' worth of relief rations, plus a minor merit for assisting in the killing of a White Fox Guard, pending verification."

The stone froze.

The lame man pointed to the next card.

"Chen Heizi has no family; his grain is distributed among the brothers in the camp, and they burn paper money and rice for him."

Next one.

"Liu Xiaoman has an old mother who is blind in one eye. She lives in the third dilapidated tile-roofed house in the east alley. Her grain rations cannot be cut off, or she won't survive the winter."

No one spoke.

Snow fell on the grain sacks.

The grain official's expression changed.

He never expected that a cripple from the cookhouse could recite all of this.

Han Wenshan quickly sneered.

"Being able to recite something perfectly doesn't mean it's true."

The lame man said, "There are markings on the grain sacks."

He bent down, rummaged through a pile of sacks by the door, and pulled out one.

A small curve was drawn in charcoal on the corner of the burlap sack.

"This belongs to Xiao Tao's family."

Another bag was dragged along.

"This belongs to Liu Xiaoman's family. The pocket has been patched three times; I did the patching."

Old Chai suddenly cursed.

"Damn it, I was wondering why the grain was so big and small. Turns out you're so good at patching bags."

Someone in the cookhouse chuckled.

As she laughed, her eyes reddened.

Yan Heng walked over, looked at the markings on the corner of the sack, and then at Su Wan's scrap of paper.

"remember."

The clerk immediately wrote it down.

Han Wenshan said, "Lord Yan, we have not seen the original grain register, only fragments and verbal accounts..."

Yan Heng interrupted him.

"Temporarily provide three days' worth of rations to the families of those who died in battle."

Han Wenshan's expression darkened slightly.

"Three days?" Old Chai asked anxiously. "What can you do in three days?"

Chen Mu's voice came from the direction of the medical tent.

not tall.

But it made everyone turn their heads away.

The curtains were not fully drawn.

He leaned against the couch, his face pale, only half of his face visible.

"Three days is enough to live on."

Old Chai was taken aback.

Chen Mu took a breath.

"Let people live first."

"We'll settle the score slowly."

That's not a nice way to put it.

But the cooks understood.

I didn't win everything today.

They only managed to salvage three days' worth of food.

It's enough for three days' worth of food, enough to feed Xiao Tao's daughter for three more days.

It can make Liu Xiaoman's blind mother live for three more days.

This is the account.

Han Wenshan looked toward the medical tent.

Chen Mu was also looking at him.

Separated by snow, by military officers, and by a pile of grain sacks.

Han Wenshan suddenly smiled.

"it is good."

"Then send it for three days."

He turned and left.

Ma Liu, however, stared at the grain officer's boots.

There was a bit of black ash on the edge of the boot.

It's not dust from the granary.

It's the ashes from the burning of the Military Merit Hall.

Ma Liu's eyes darted around, and he quietly retreated to the corner of the wall.

Nobody paid any attention to him.

Only Chen Mu saw it.

Chen Mu remained silent.

Half an hour later, Ma Liu crawled back from the back alley, carrying half a charred book cover in his arms.

He was panting like a dog, his face covered in snow.

"Chief Chen".

He handed the book cover into the medical tent.

"I followed the grain officer, and he stuffed the things into the cracks in the stones by the well."

There are still two characters on the cover that haven't been burned completely.

Grain register.

Lin Qinghe's expression changed.

Chen Mu took the book cover and looked at it for a while.

Then, he smiled.

"it is good."

"At least some of the grain rations have survived."

Ma Liu grinned.

"Does this count as a merit?"

Chen Mu glanced at him.

"Calculate."

Ma Liu immediately laughed.

But outside the tent, Han Wenshan's personal guards had already turned back.

They are looking for Ma Liu.

The charges are quite simple.

He secretly followed Bai Lang to the grain depot.

Spying on military affairs.

Ma Liu shrank back into the medical tent, still stubbornly refusing to admit it.

"I'm just fast on my feet."

Zhou Tie glared at him.

"Still being sarcastic at a time like this?"

Ma Liu swallowed hard and whispered, "If I don't talk, my legs will go weak."

Upon hearing this, the men in the cooking camp all felt a pang of sadness.

Ma Liu was usually the fastest runner and the most talkative. But everyone knew that if the Han family's personal guards really wanted to drag him away, his two fast legs would be of no use at all.