After the military drill concluded, the entire army returned to the city.
The training unit, consisting of thirty cavalrymen, escorted Shao Xun, Mi Huang, He Lun, Wang Bing, and Yu Liang, trailing behind the main force.
As they passed by the Great Xia Gate in the northern part of the city, Shao Xun couldn’t help but glance upward.
Not far to the west lay the Golden Fortress City.
This city was located at the northwest corner of Luoyang but wasn’t fully integrated into the city walls.
To be precise, only the southern part of the Golden Fortress City was within Luoyang, while the central and northern sections protruded outward.
This design had its advantages, as it made the northern section of Luoyang’s walls irregular.
If enemy forces attacked the Great Xia Gate, they would easily face flanking attacks from the Golden Fortress defenders, leading to heavy casualties.
Outside the Great Xia Gate, several camps had been set up, housing three to four thousand soldiers from Hebei.
These soldiers, unable to return home to tend their fields or reunite with their families, were filled with frustration.
As a result, they often extorted the commoners entering and leaving Luoyang to compensate for what they perceived as their losses.
However, when they saw the fully armed Chen Yougen and his men, they quickly backed off, waving them through the gate to avoid blocking the entrance.
The commoners, witnessing this, cursed loudly, and the Hebei soldiers hurled insults back, creating a chaotic and somewhat comical scene.
“After five months of garrison duty in Luoyang, these soldiers have become utterly useless,” Shao Xun thought to himself with a sneer.
He had passed through the Great Xia Gate many times and had watched these soldiers from Ye gradually deteriorate.
They were never elite troops to begin with—just farmers pulled from the fields.
After some rudimentary training and half a year of combat, they had gained a bit of military experience.
But after five months of idling around the city gates, their discipline had slackened, and they were no longer as sharp as they had been at the beginning of the year.
Just now, when their comrades were arguing with commoners and merchants, the other soldiers stood by indifferently, even laughing.
This was a serious problem.
Shao Xun had heard that Sima Ying was trying to rebuild a new army, which made sense.
Conscripting farmers to fight was becoming less and less viable.
While it might work for now, it would increasingly fail to meet the demands of the times.
After entering the city, Shao Xun went straight to his residence, followed by Mi Huang and Yu Liang.
Shortly after, Xu Lang, having received word, found an excuse to visit as well.
The Sima Yue’s staff was large, and as the saying goes, “No faction within the mansion is without its quirks.” Shao, Mi, Yu, and Xu were forming a small, tight-knit group.
“Earlier, He Lun approached me with goodwill and asked for advice…” Mi Huang began as they sat down.
The training unit soldiers skillfully boiled water for tea and prepared a meal.
The residence had no servants, so the soldiers handled all the daily chores.
“Tell him to get rid of those useless soldiers,” Shao Xun said bluntly. “It’s not too late to recruit new ones. There are plenty of deserters outside Luoyang, which would cut down on training time. There are also many bandits in the mountains. If he’s confident he can control them, bandits would make better soldiers than city folk.”
Yu Liang listened quietly, his eyes wide.
Xu Lang’s expression was serious, but there was also a hint of excitement at being involved in such important matters.
“I’ll go talk to him tomorrow, but I’m not sure he’ll be willing to part with them. Are the city folk who’ve been training for five months really that useless?” Mi Huang asked.
“Didn’t you see it today?” Shao Xun countered. “Prostitutes, servants, shopkeepers, and even monks—what kind of soldiers are they? They’d collapse at the first charge. They’re not even fit to defend the city.”
The group fell silent, the atmosphere growing heavy.
After a moment, Mi Huang suddenly said, “Today, the Minister of Works granted me the position of ‘Supervisor of Luoyang Defense.’ Young master, it’s as you wished.”
“Oh? How many troops will be left behind?” Shao Xun asked with interest.
“Three thousand of the Kingdom Army will definitely stay,” Mi Huang replied. “There might be a few thousand more, but don’t get your hopes up. They’ll either be new recruits or won’t follow my orders. Do you have a strategy for defending Luoyang?”
Shao Xun thought for a moment and said, “Given the situation, we should be open and honest. In my opinion, if we can hold Luoyang, we should. If not, we should retreat to the Golden Fortress City. That city is extremely sturdy, with complete defensive equipment, large granaries, and multiple wells. As long as we fill the granaries and warehouses, we can hold out for a long time.”
“So that’s your plan,” Mi Huang said, slapping his thigh.
After pondering for a moment, he added, “The Golden Fortress City is indeed defensible, but how long would we need to hold it? If the Minister of Works is defeated, wouldn’t we be left with no place to bury our bodies?”
“What else can we do?” Shao Xun asked. “Fleeing without a fight is the greatest crime.”
As he said this, he glanced at Yu Liang and Xu Lang.
Both looked uncomfortable, clearly unwilling to simply run away.
Or rather, they could run, but they would lose their official positions, and all their previous efforts would be wasted.
They would have to start over—though for scions of noble families, this wasn’t a big deal.
“Fleeing without a fight is indeed not the best strategy,” Mi Huang said, frowning in thought.
After a moment, he continued, “If the Minister of Works succeeds in his northern campaign, all will be well. If he fails, it’s unlikely to be a complete rout. Tens of thousands of troops retreating to Luoyang would still deter Zhang Fang.
I suspect that Luoyang would remain as it is now. The Minister of Works’ fate is uncertain—he might survive, or he might not. If he’s captured and killed by Sima Ying, Luoyang would likely need to elect a new leader.
At that point, we’d have to find our own paths, much like the advisors of Sima Jiong and Sima Yi did after their lords fell.”
Mi Huang’s words were somewhat pessimistic.
Shao Xun glanced at Yu Liang and Xu Lang again, but seeing no particular reaction from them, he felt reassured.
Perhaps this was just how the noble families operated—loyalty existed, but only to a certain extent.
“The Minister of Works is unlikely to be captured and killed,” Shao Xun said. “Holding Luoyang is the right move.”
“Why are you so sure?” Yu Liang couldn’t help but ask.
Shao Xun couldn’t answer.
In truth, his thoughts were a bit muddled.
He knew that Sima Yue was one of the victors of the War of the Eight Princes.
Even if the northern campaign failed, he should be able to escape back to Luoyang and make a comeback—at least, that’s how it had played out in the original timeline.
But he couldn’t be entirely certain.
What if there was a butterfly effect? Or what if Sima Yue got lucky and won this campaign? With so little information (and history being unreliable), it was hard to judge.
“The Minister of Works has at least twenty fast horses prepared. If he can’t escape with that, he’s just unlucky,” Shao Xun said vaguely.
Yu Liang nodded hesitantly, as if this made some sense.
“Let’s not talk about this anymore. When the time comes, move all your families in the city to the Golden Fortress,” Shao Xun said, knowing his earlier argument had holes.
He looked at Yu Liang earnestly and added, “We need to prepare.”
Yu Liang was deeply moved.
Shao Xun’s gaze was sincere, as if to say, “I care about your family, and I’m determined to be your friend.”
“Should we also stockpile food, arrows, and medical supplies in advance?” Xu Lang, who had no family in Luoyang, cut straight to the core issue.
“Of course, we should prepare in advance,” Shao Xun said, looking at the group. “But it’s best if the court handles this.”
“Agreed,” Mi Huang and Yu Liang nodded like subordinates.
“Have you forgotten about Shi Chao? He has tens of thousands of troops,” Xu Lang said timidly.
“We haven’t forgotten him,” Shao Xun said with a smile. “If we can’t even get past Shi Chao, there’s no point in talking about the northern campaign. With over twenty thousand Luoyang central troops, and with the element of surprise on our side, our chances are good.”
Xu Lang nodded hesitantly, clearly not entirely convinced.
Shao Xun knew, of course, that nothing in war was certain.
If Sima Yue couldn’t even remove Shi Chao as an obstacle, then he—Shao Xun—wouldn’t stick around.
He’d take his student soldiers and flee to the East Sea overnight, becoming a son-in-law of the Mi family.
If there was time, he’d also take Lady Pei and the heir.
If he couldn’t marry into the Mi family, he’d escort Lady Pei and the heir back to their fiefdom and wait to see how things unfolded.
If even that wasn’t possible, he’d become a mountain bandit, making the likely widowed Lady Pei his “mountain stronghold wife.” At least he’d have a wife, a memento of his two or three years in Luoyang.
Bottom-line thinking—Shao Xun never lacked it.
He could sense that the time for action was drawing near, and everything would soon be revealed.
Indeed, it wasn’t long before Mi Huang, with a grave expression, summoned Shao Xun, He Lun, and Wang Bing to privately relay the Minister of Works’ orders.
On the sixth day of the seventh month, they would strike and annihilate Shi Chao’s forces in one fell swoop!
(End of Chapter)