Hot flashes

Winter in Cangyun Ridge was even harsher than Huo Yi had anticipated.

This abandoned military camp, located behind Ningwu Pass, was built against a steep mountainside. Many of the stone walls have collapsed, and only a fraction of the barracks remain.

Its only advantage is its high altitude, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack, and the presence of a spring that is not yet completely frozen.

When the two thousand or so remaining soldiers arrived at this place, they were almost at their last gasp. Many suffered from frostbite, and many had horrifying purplish-black chilblains on their hands and feet, making walking, sitting, and lying down extremely painful. Food was running out, and medicine was even scarcer.

Huo Yi ordered his men to inventory all the stored grain and distribute it uniformly. Two meals a day of thin porridge, mixed with a small amount of grass roots and tree bark dug up, were provided to barely keep the flame of life burning.

The old general gave up his main tent to house the seriously wounded, while he himself only had a sheltered rock hollow by the spring, where he laid out a layer of dry grass and an old felt, which became his dwelling.

Every morning, he would personally inspect the camp, check on the wounded, and share the same thin porridge with his soldiers. His upright posture and calm gaze became the last pillar of support in this land of despair.

"General, we have less than thirty quiver of arrows left, and the bowstrings are frozen and brittle, with many already broken. Many of our swords and spears are rusted and dull."

Wang Hui's reports grew increasingly somber: "Three scouts have been sent to Ningwu Pass to request reinforcements and urge the delivery of supplies, but so far... there has been no news of them."

Huo Yi gazed at the vast expanse of white below the ridge, where directions were almost impossible to discern, and remained silent for a long time. He knew what the complete lack of news meant.

Heavy snow blocked the mountain pass, making the journey extremely dangerous. Scouts might perish in the snowstorm, or they might not even reach their destination, or they might reach it but bring back no hope.

"Send another one." His voice was dry and hoarse from the cold and lack of water, but unusually firm. "Choose the ones who know the mountain paths best and have the best stamina. Don't take the main roads, take a longer route, and make sure to deliver our situation to the garrison commander of Ningwu Pass, and to... Nandu."

"Yes!" Wang Hui gritted his teeth and agreed, his eyes reddening as he turned away. He knew this was likely yet another futile sacrifice.

As night fell, the cold wind howled through the dilapidated camp, sounding like the wailing of ghosts.

Beneath the rocky hollow, Huo Yi wrapped himself tightly in a thin, old cloak. By the dim light of the dying embers of a fire, he painstakingly wrote something on a slightly flat stone slab using a charred twig.

"...Your subject Yi bows: Our isolated army has penetrated deep into enemy territory, is trapped in Cangyun, is running out of food and reinforcements, and our soldiers are suffering from cold and hunger, with casualties increasing daily."

However, the soldiers fought bravely, their morale remained high, and they all remembered the Emperor's grace and were willing to give their lives. They could only beg the Emperor to grant their request and quickly send reinforcements and provisions to rescue these remaining soldiers from the snow and ice.

The northern border is in grave danger, and the rebellious Xiao is powerful. If we cannot control him, he may become a great threat... I know that I am incompetent and have failed Your Majesty's grace. I am willing to give my life to repay Your Majesty...

The handwriting was crooked due to the cold and trembling hands, but each stroke was powerful enough to penetrate the stone slab.

As he wrote, the old general's hands became bulging with veins, and his hands, which were used to holding spears and were as steady as a rock, began to tremble slightly.

He knew the chances of this memorial being sent out and reaching the emperor were slim, but he had to write it.

This was not only a request for help, but also an explanation to his own beliefs and to the more than two thousand soldiers who still trusted and followed him.

The flame flickered one last time before going out completely. Darkness and cold instantly engulfed the rocky hollow.

Huo Yi remained motionless in his writing posture, like a stone sculpture frozen in time and snow.

The night in Cangyun Ridge is a pitch-black and deathly silence that can freeze one to the bone.

Only when the suppressed coughs of the night patrol soldiers reached him in the distance did he slowly move his stiff body.

He lay down, the dry grass beneath him rough and cold, the chill coming from all directions.

With his eyes closed, he could almost hear Xiao Yuan's hearty laughter from many years ago, in the equally cold northern camp: "Brother Huo, after we drive away the Qiang bandits, let's return to the capital. I'll treat you to the finest liquor, and we won't leave until we're drunk!"

---

The mornings at Eagle's Beak Cliff begin with the aroma of rice porridge and the sounds of drills.

Zhou Heng got up early, which was unusual for him, and crawled into the small "workshop" that had been specially assigned to him—which was actually a reinforced, warm tent filled with all sorts of things he was tinkering with, from modified snow boots to simple abacus models.

At that moment, he was beaming as he looked at a small pot of bubbling, thick porridge. The porridge contained bits of dried meat and dried wild vegetables, and its aroma was irresistible.

"Done!" He ladled out a large bowl with satisfaction, thought for a moment, then took an empty bowl, divided it in half, and then, carrying both bowls, braved the cold wind and made his way to the central command tent.

The guards at the tent nodded and let him pass when they saw it was him. Inside the tent, Xiao Jue was already there, deep in thought, looking at a map and several documents. His profile looked somewhat cold and stern in the morning light, with faint dark circles under his eyes.

"Ahem," Zhou Heng cleared his throat and shook the bowl in his hand. "General Xiao, have you had breakfast yet? If not, would you do me the honor of trying my cooking? My exclusive 'Cold-Resistant Nutritious Porridge,' guaranteed to refresh your mind, warm your stomach, and soothe your heart."

Hearing the voice, Xiao Jue looked up and saw Zhou Heng's smiling face, which was both ingratiating and smug, and the two bowls of steaming porridge in his hands. The deep frown between his brows unconsciously eased a little. "Are those 'outlandish' foods of yours again?" His tone was unreadable, but he had already put down the pen in his hand.

"What do you mean by whimsical? This is called a scientific combination and balanced nutrition." Zhou Heng placed the bowl on his desk, then dragged a small stool over and sat down beside him. "Try it, it's much better than the monotonous millet porridge at the military camp. I added extra ginger on purpose."

Xiao Jue glanced at him, said nothing, picked up the spoon and took a bite.

The porridge was cooked to perfection, savory and delicious. The spicy warmth of the ginger spread from my throat all the way to my stomach, which really dispelled a lot of the chill and fatigue.

"How is it?" Zhou Heng looked at him expectantly. His appearance was completely out of place with the solemn atmosphere of the military camp outside the tent, but strangely, it made Xiao Jue's tense nerves relax for a moment.

"Acceptable." Xiao Jue gave a two-word evaluation, but didn't stop drinking the porridge.

Zhou Heng immediately smiled: "It's good enough! Let me tell you, the essence of this porridge lies in..."

He started rambling on about his "cooking philosophy," talking about the combination of protein and carbohydrates, and the effects of warming ingredients. Although Xiao Jue couldn't understand some of the words, he didn't find it annoying at all, seeing his animated and spirited manner.

The bowl of porridge was quickly emptied. Xiao Jue put down the bowl and watched Zhou Heng also holding the bowl and sipping it slowly. The tip of his nose was slightly red from the steam, and his wisps of hair fell in front of his forehead. He was enveloped in the morning light filtering through the gaps in the tent, making him look somewhat...soft.

"You got up so early just to cook this?" Xiao Jue suddenly asked.

Zhou Heng swallowed the porridge in his mouth and said matter-of-factly, "Otherwise what? I saw that the light in your tent was on until the early hours of the morning last night, and Zhao Ting came to report something. You must not have slept well."

"How can we not eat something hot on such a cold day?" he said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Xiao Jue's heart felt as if it had been gently bumped by something, and it became slightly warm. This kind of straightforward and natural concern was extremely rare in his life.

He was silent for a moment, then suddenly reached out and, across the table, gently wiped away a little bit of porridge stain from the corner of Zhou Heng's mouth with his fingertips.

Zhou Heng froze, his mouth full of porridge, staring wide-eyed at Xiao Jue.

The temperature and touch of those fingertips were hotter than the porridge in the bowl, burning from the corner of my mouth to the roots of my ears.

Xiao Jue had already withdrawn his hand, as if he had done something completely ordinary. His expression remained calm, but something subtly softened deep within his eyes. "Eat yours, it's getting cold."

"Oh...oh." Zhou Heng mechanically lowered his head, took two big gulps of porridge, and his heart was beating a little fast.

He secretly glanced at Xiao Jue, who had already picked up the documents again.

The tent fell silent for a moment, save for the soft rustling of Zhou Heng drinking his porridge and the turning of pages. The atmosphere was slightly delicate, but not awkward; instead, it was filled with a warm and peaceful feeling.

"What about Huo Yi..." Zhou Heng couldn't help but break the silence, starting a conversation, "Are we really not going to do anything?"

Xiao Jue's gaze never left the document, and his tone was calm: "Cangyun Ridge is a dead end, but it is also the position he chose."

A direct assault would result in heavy casualties, while a siege would be the best option... This winter is the perfect time for a siege.

"What I need to do is clear the perimeter, ensure he receives no supplies, and cut off any possibility of him breaking out or contacting the rear." He paused, "Also, it's time to add more fire to Ningwu Pass."

"Are you planning to expose the fact that the military supervisor withheld the letter requesting assistance?" Zhou Heng asked.

"Not only that." Xiao Jue put down the document, a cold glint in his eyes. "That military supervisor has quite the appetite. What he withheld was not just Huo Yi's letter requesting aid."

He skimmed off the Ningwu Pass garrison's original rations and winter clothing. Many of Huo Yi's former subordinates were dissatisfied. "Just a spark..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear. Not only did he want the supervising officer's misdeeds exposed, but he also wanted to exacerbate the internal conflicts within Ningwu Pass, causing Huo Yi's potential support forces to disintegrate from within, or even... defect.

Zhou Heng sighed: "If General Huo knew that behind his hopes lay such a scene..."

"So he will never truly know, or rather, he doesn't want to know." Xiao Jue looked at Zhou Heng with a deep gaze. "Loyalty taken to the extreme can sometimes be a form of blind faith."

He believed in that dynasty, that emperor, and the ideal of 'loyalty and righteousness' in his heart.

As for the despicable nature of specific individuals within this ideology, he preferred to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear, or... regard them as isolated parasites rather than a systemic disease.

Zhou Heng silently drank his porridge, saying nothing more. He could understand Huo Yi's perseverance, and he also understood Xiao Jue's cold-blooded reality.

This is a clash between two eras, and a confrontation between two philosophies of survival; there is no simple right or wrong.