After the newcomers were integrated, they naturally couldn't be mixed with the veterans.
The servants and retainers of the wealthy families, totaling over 240 people, were reorganized into five teams, each with a team leader—mostly from prominent families.
Most of these people had witnessed the previous battles and remained calm.
Starting from the next day, Shao Xun conducted simple training for them and sent people to various places south of the city to gather provisions, which were then transported back to the Piyong Academy and even stored in the neighboring Imperial Academy.
By the first day of the tenth month, many people had gradually moved in, some settling in Piyong and others in the Imperial Academy.
At a glance, it seemed like a strong and capable force had been formed.
On the second day, news came from the north that after suffering a defeat, Zhang Fang had allowed his soldiers to burn, kill, and plunder in the western part of the city to boost morale.
Tens of thousands of Luoyang's residents perished.
Subsequently, Zhang Fang led his troops to attack the Ximing Gate in the west of Luoyang but failed and retreated.
The imperial forces pursued them out of the city, killing thousands.
On the third day, Grand Marshal Sima Yi escorted the emperor back to the capital.
A few days later, Qian Xiu led the Ye troops to the Dongyang Gate but was defeated and fled in disarray.
All this news was brought by Yu Liang.
Yu Liang had come to terms with the situation and convinced his father, Yu Chen, to move the family to Piyong temporarily—in fact, they had no choice, as their retainers were gone, leaving them defenseless.
"Since the ninth month, although the imperial forces have been retreating step by step, they have won more battles than they've lost, killing many enemies. It seems that the battle for Luoyang might be won," Yu Liang said confidently, holding a silk map of Luoyang in front of Mi Huang.
Mi Huang nodded repeatedly, looking somewhat encouraged.
Shao Xun leaned against a pillar, quietly observing.
As the de facto core of the Piyong garrison, although he didn't speak, both Mi Huang and Yu Liang subconsciously paid attention to his attitude.
Mi Huang was used to it, but Yu Liang felt a faint sense of discomfort.
In this social environment, such discomfort was quite normal.
There was indeed a gap between the nobility and the commoners.
While the northern order was gradually collapsing, not everyone could quickly adapt.
"Battle reports can be deceiving, but the front lines don't lie," Shao Xun suddenly said.
Mi Huang and Yu Liang were taken aback.
"Today a great victory, tomorrow another, and the day after yet another. Win, win, win—but in the end, the emperor retreats to the palace, and the grand marshal withdraws to Luoyang. The battlefield shifts to the Ximing Gate and the Dongyang Gate. Don't you think there's a problem?" Shao Xun countered.
"Are you saying these victories are fake?" Yu Liang asked incredulously.
"Mostly true. The imperial forces might indeed have won battles, inflicting heavy casualties on the enemy while suffering fewer losses themselves. That's normal, as the combat strength of the Luoyang central army is still reliable," Shao Xun explained.
"But the grand marshal can't deliver a decisive blow to the enemy—a single battle to crush their main force, capture or kill over 50,000, and completely demoralize them. As the saying goes, it's better to cut off one finger than to injure ten. If you defeat one unit today, capture or kill a few thousand, and the enemy retreats, regroups, and comes back, what will you do?"
"Tactical victories but strategic passivity—this war is deeply problematic."
"Previously, they were fighting in Gou County and Yanshi County, but now they've retreated to the outskirts of Luoyang. I'm worried that the high officials might have some ideas."
"The Luoyang central army isn't the grand marshal's personal force. Will they really fight for him indefinitely? If the Prince of Hejian or the Prince of Chengdu offers a suitable price, what's to stop them from betraying the grand marshal?"
"After all these years, Prince Zhao Lun and Prince Qi Jiong were both betrayed. What's one more Prince of Changsha Yi? If the grand marshal is betrayed early, Luoyang might return to peace sooner, and I could enjoy the snow, seek plum blossoms, and pursue immortality. Wouldn't that be delightful?"
Mi Huang sighed silently, clearly considering this possibility.
Yu Liang, though precocious, was only fifteen and hadn't experienced much of the world's deceit.
He turned pale.
After speaking, Shao Xun turned and left to check on the newcomers' arrangements.
In truth, he was also feeling restless.
The war was chaotic, and his own future was becoming increasingly uncertain.
Sima Yi seemed to be winning battle after battle, gaining the upper hand tactically, which made Sima Ying and Sima Yong frown.
Logically, when they mobilized 300,000 troops to attack Luoyang, they never expected to be so thoroughly beaten.
In the end, their combat strength was weaker, and now they could only rely on sheer numbers to win.
But Sima Yi's Achilles' heel was obvious: lack of stamina.
After a month of fighting, the elite forces had completely abandoned the suburbs of Luoyang and were now relying on the city and its outer defenses, trying to mount a counterattack.
But could they really pull it off? Hard to say.
No solution, no solution.
Shao Xun walked through the dormitories, inspecting them carefully, focusing on whether any soldiers were causing trouble.
Receiving negative answers, he felt satisfied.
He still had authority, and his words carried more weight than even the official commander, Mi Huang.
"I see you again," Shao Xun said with a smile, looking at the little girl he had met twice before in the Xuan Hall.
"It's you," the girl said, putting down the book in her hand and standing up to bow.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
She had a few friends with her, likely from noble families, who pretended not to see Shao Xun and continued with their needlework.
"Making something delicious?" Shao Xun asked, noticing the fragrant aroma from the earthen pots and rice steamers.
"All the servants were taken by you, so we have to cook for ourselves," Yu Wenjun complained softly.
Shao Xun laughed.
"In these chaotic times, learning to cook is a good skill."
"I was already learning," Yu Wenjun said, picking up the book and waving it in front of Shao Xun.
Shao Xun saw the title: Food Notes.
He had assumed that noblewomen were pampered and never lifted a finger, but it seemed he was mistaken, or perhaps he didn't understand the education of noblewomen in this era.
"Women must cultivate domestic skills, including preparing food and drink," Yu Wenjun recited from the book.
"Serving parents-in-law and conducting seasonal sacrifices should not be left to servants; it must be done personally."
The meaning was clear: serving in-laws and conducting rituals required the lady of the house to personally prepare meals, not delegate to servants.
For her husband's meals, she should also pay attention, selecting appropriate dishes from Food Notes to vary the diet and nourish the body.
Thus, cooking was an essential part of a noblewoman's education, and "domestic skills" were a required subject for noblewomen.
Shao Xun thought this was a good thing.
Noblewomen had to cook to please their in-laws and husbands, which was at least better than many modern young women who refused to lift a finger.
Truly a benefit of the times.
"Thinking a lot for such a young age," he teased.
Yu Wenjun's cheeks flushed slightly, and her bright eyes blinked as she looked down.
"Is it very fierce outside?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Have you seen it?"
"When we came from the imperial street, there was blood everywhere. It made me want to vomit."
"Are you scared?"
"This world—" Yu Wenjun suddenly looked up and asked seriously, "Is it always going to be like this, never getting better?"
Shao Xun suddenly noticed that the little girl's gaze was quite complex, filled with many emotions.
There seemed to be a longing for a better life.
The spring outing in March was probably her first trip far from home.
The lull in the war had given her enough gentleness to develop unrealistic fantasies about this colorful world.
But there was also a lot of anxiety about reality.
The war since September had been brutal, especially the actions of Zhang Fang's Guanzhong troops, which had pushed the limits of cruelty.
The chaotic corpses and stench of blood on the imperial street had left an unimaginable impact on her—a stark contrast to the beautiful scene of spring blossoms and bustling tourists in March.
Some of the girls who had gone on that outing with her were probably gone forever.
The chaos since the Yongkang era had truly reshaped a generation.
Even little girls weren't spared, as everyone was swept up in the tide of history, rushing headlong into the night.
"As long as there's hope, there's a chance," Shao Xun said.
"If everyone loses hope and only thinks of escaping, then it's truly difficult."
"Escaping?" Yu Wenjun asked.
"Do you mean some people want to flee south to avoid the chaos?"
Shao Xun was startled.
Logically, without experiencing the Yongjia chaos, northern scholars shouldn't have completely lost confidence.
Could it be that some people already foresaw the immense destruction and irreparable losses from the War of the Eight Princes, leading them to despair and consider fleeing south?
Thinking about it, he had to admit that such people likely existed, and their numbers were growing, though they probably hadn't become the mainstream yet.
Did the Yu family also want to flee south? Unlikely.
With such a large estate in Yingchuan, how could they just abandon it? Zhang Fang hadn't ravaged Yuzhou, and the Xiongnu hadn't yet shown their ambitions.
It really wasn't necessary.
"I need to go cook," Yu Wenjun said, bowing again before walking away.
Her friends pulled her aside, whispering something, and some glanced at Shao Xun, likely not saying anything nice.
Shao Xun left the Xuan Hall, silently pondering the information he had just gathered.
Wang Que'er had been sent back to study, while Chen Yougen followed behind him, carrying a heavy sword and scratching his head, clearly deep in thought.
"When the elites betray their country, huh!" Shao Xun muttered something Chen Yougen didn't understand, gazing at the sky.
Why was it so hard for a time traveler to get by? The feeling of not being in control of one's own destiny was truly terrible.
"Commander," Chen Yougen finally spoke up.
"Speak," Shao Xun turned to look at his rough-and-tumble attendant.
"Little Miss Yu is quite precocious, able to compose poetry at six, but she's still too young," Chen Yougen said.
"Her mother, Lady Qiu, is quite beautiful. If you like..."
"Bang!" Shao Xun kicked him to the ground.
I'm not into that, nor am I a pervert.
Why would you even think that?
Chen Yougen looked at Shao Xun with a hint of grievance, as if to say, "You're a real monster when you kill people, so much so that even the cannibalistic western soldiers fled in terror."
"Get up, stop pretending," Shao Xun kicked his butt again, laughing.
"I didn't like what you said, but I appreciate your tone. You've got a fearless spirit. Keep it up."
Chen Yougen was confused.
What did the commander mean?
Shao Xun laughed and walked away.
Chen Yougen had no respect for noble families or the court, only truly acknowledging those who earned his admiration.
That was a good thing.
Sometimes, when faced with two evils, you choose the lesser one.
Shao Xun had once thought Chen Yougen's rough nature made him unsuitable for the military.
But now it seemed that in critical moments, Chen Yougen might be the one to stand by his side.
So, where could he find more people like Chen Yougen? That was a question he needed to consider for the long term.
(End of Chapter)