IDWBE -Chapter 369 Third Great-Uncle

He was merely a constable in Qingyuan City. With Jiang Zhen’s support, the Deng clan treated him as though he were some high-ranking official.

“Third Great-Uncle, I wouldn’t dare. That would be improper,” Deng Ke said.

But Deng Ke didn’t care. In Sanhe, official titles meant little. People like Wu Lin, Du Rong, and Yuan Busheng were still Provincial Administration Commissioners—were their positions important?

Of course they were.

But did anyone truly respect them?

What mattered most was how many people you commanded.

Wei Yishan was different. Though his official rank wasn’t high, he commanded several thousand soldiers and constables in Qingyuan City.

Deng Ke deeply agreed with what militia captain Wang Xing had said: Wei Yishan, Liu Kan, Chen Xinluo—these were the ones with real power.

Even if you couldn’t curry favor with such men, you must never offend them.

And as it happened, he could curry favor!

Judging by the look of things, hadn’t his Third Great-Uncle just been promoted?

Heaven be praised—Deng Ke now had someone backing him!

Back then, he had merely delayed paying some hired workers’ wages. That wretch Pang Long had actually sentenced him to labor reform! Those were bitter days indeed. If he had had a powerful patron, Pang Long would never have dared treat him so harshly.

“Forget it, forget it,” Wei Yishan said helplessly. “Looks like you’ve returned from beyond the frontier?”

“Replying to Third Great-Uncle,” Deng Ke said, bowing, “indeed I’ve returned from the northern frontier. We originally went to help the army build siege ladders, watchtowers, and catapults. But up north there weren’t any proper cities—just dirt mounds. Our troops didn’t even need grappling hooks. Anyone with a bit of skill could climb up in three strides. As for me, I wasn’t very capable. While building a bridge over the Liangshui River, I took an arrow to the chest. Fortunately, General Bao was considerate and sent me back to Ankang City with the other wounded soldiers to recuperate.”

“It didn’t fester, did it?” Wei Yishan asked with concern.

“Please rest assured, Third Great-Uncle. I’m third-rank myself—this little injury is nothing,” Deng Ke said with a grin. “Pitiful are those Wadan people. Aside from their officers, hardly any of them knew martial arts. They used to herd horses and sheep—this so-called Khan of Wadan cobbled them together by force. General Shen beat them until they cried for their fathers and mothers. If you ask me, there was no need for regular troops at all. As long as the Prince paid us laborers, we could’ve taken care of it. And those Yuan family troops and Qizhou soldiers—should’ve been sent home. They were nothing but dead weight. Useless! If our Sanhe army hadn’t arrived, they’d have been buried alive by the Wadan.”

“Watch your tongue,” Wei Yishan snapped, glancing around. “The Prince is now Regent. The realm belongs to all. Whether Sanhe troops or Qizhou and Jizhou troops, they are all the Prince’s soldiers. If a military law officer hears you, you’ll be punished.”

“You’re right, Third Great-Uncle,” Deng Ke said sheepishly. “But I’m just speaking the truth. They’re incompetent. When they’re not fighting poorly, they strut around managing refugees from Jizhou, Qizhou, Liangzhou and the like, clashing with them. The refugees nearly revolted.”

“Refugees?” Wei Yishan had only recently arrived in Ankang and wasn’t fully informed. “The northern frontier is dangerous territory. How did refugees from Jizhou and Qizhou dare go there?”

Deng Ke replied, “The frontier is vast and sparsely populated. Thousands of miles of fertile land were occupied by the Wadan. The Prince decreed that anyone who went north could claim land by riding out and marking its bounds.”

Wei Yishan frowned. “Is land worth more than life? Those refugees had that kind of courage?”

“Heh, Uncle, you don’t know,” Deng Ke said. “The Huang River burst its banks—flooding everywhere. The refugees harvested nothing. Sun Xing and those Daoist priests and monks set up porridge stations. But there were rules. The porridge sheds were built progressively farther north. If the refugees wanted to eat, they had to keep moving north. Otherwise they’d starve. And once they saw that rich black soil—soil you could squeeze oil from—they went mad with desire. You couldn’t drive them back even if you tried. Though I hear winter freezes people to death. Still not as good as Sanhe. After the war, we’ll return home. We’re not that interested ourselves—otherwise we might’ve claimed a hundred mu just for fun.”

“So many refugees would indeed be hard to manage,” Wei Yishan sighed.

“That’s not a problem,” Deng Ke said after some thought. “Once they reached the frontier, they were assigned to build roads and bridges, dig trenches, transport grain, guard prisoners, and tend captured cattle and sheep. Quite useful, actually. General Shen Chu calls it ‘using soldiers as relief’—relief through war, or something like that. In any case, it was the Prince’s idea. We’re not afraid of fighting.”

“Yes,” Wei Yishan nodded. “The Prince has said we do not wish for war. But if the enemy insists, we do not fear it. As for when the war ends—that’s up to us. These Wadan don’t know the immensity of heaven and earth. By the time they want peace, they may no longer have the chance.”

After speaking, he glanced at Deng Ke. “Since you’re unwell, go recuperate properly. If you need anything, come find me at the Five Army Governor’s Office.”

“May I ask, Third Great-Uncle, your current post is…?” Deng Ke’s eyes lit up.

Unlike that butcher Jiang Tu, Deng Ke wasn’t ignorant. As a Sanhe supplier, he had long mingled in military circles and knew the structure well.

“Lord He has shown me favor. The day before yesterday I took office as Commander of the Capital Camp.”

Wei Yishan knew these people were opportunists, yet he couldn’t resist showing off a little. His father had died young, and his mother had raised him with great hardship, enduring many cold stares—including from the Deng clan.

Back then, when his mother had asked Deng Baishun—Deng Ke’s father—for a bowl of rice, she had been refused.

She had even been cursed as a jinx who had doomed her husband.

“Congratulations, Third Great-Uncle! Congratulations!” Deng Ke grinned from ear to ear.

In the future, if he got into trouble, couldn’t he shout: “My great-uncle is Commander of the Capital Camp! You dare mess with me—are you tired of living?”

Just imagining it made him excited.

“It’s nothing worth mentioning,” Wei Yishan said flatly.

Thinking of his mother’s years of suffering drained all his enthusiasm. The fact that he hadn’t retaliated against the Deng clan was already magnanimous enough.

“Take care, Third Great-Uncle!” Deng Ke called cheerfully.

When Wei Yishan returned to the office of the Five Army Governor’s Office, he suddenly saw a familiar face—He Hong, formerly a guard of Prince He’s residence, now its Commander of Guards.

“Commander He, long time no see.”

“I suppose I should call you General Wei now.”

The two men locked eyes, each resting a hand on his sword hilt.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen…” Sun Chongde looked at them, on the verge of tears. He should never have followed He Hong out here and gotten dragged into this mess. “If there’s something to say, say it calmly.”

“I’ve long wished to test General Wei’s martial skill,” He Hong said, ignoring Sun’s attempts at mediation, and drew his blade.

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint the Commander,” Wei Yishan snorted coldly, his sword flashing in the sunlight.