YWTGU -Chapter 70 The Makeshift Army Sets Out

Capital parade ground.

Li An knew he would never forget this scene for the rest of his life.

Three days later, at dawn, news that the Emperor would personally lead the campaign had already spread throughout the capital.

On the parade ground stood every bit of strength Great Qi could muster.

Li An stood atop the command platform. Looking at the sea of heads below, his vision darkened.

At the center were the fifty thousand Imperial Guards.

This was Great Qi’s core force.

They wore standardized armor, their formations neat, blades and spears like a forest.

They looked decent enough.

But Li An knew—they hadn’t fought a real war in ten years.

Their greatest achievement last year had been chasing down a chicken thief in the capital.

To the left of the Imperial Guards stood Jin Daye’s inspection squad.

Three thousand men.

Broad-shouldered, thick-necked, fierce-faced.

Half of them had the character “勇” (bravery) tattooed on their bodies.

A few bold ones had even tattooed “Loyalty Eternal” across their foreheads.

Jin Daye sat astride a brown horse, gripping a spiked mace he’d somehow acquired. He looked impressively intimidating.

“My lord!”

He grinned up at Li An.

“Look at my brothers! Each one’s a beast! Killing enemies on the battlefield will be nothing!”

Li An looked at those “brothers.”

Yes, they were fierce.

At street brawls.

At gang fights, protection rackets, smashing shops.

Professional soldiers charging in cavalry formation?

Had they ever faced that?

Obviously not.

To the right of the Imperial Guards stood Zhang Tiezhu’s Ministry of Works artisan team.

Five hundred men.

Some carried hammers. Some carried saws. Two even held ink lines for carpentry.

Half their “weapons” were actual arms; the other half were tools.

Zhang Tiezhu himself rode a donkey—he didn’t even have a horse—his back strapped with a huge bulging bundle.

“Zhang Tiezhu!” Li An called from the platform.

“Present!”

Zhang Tiezhu jumped off the donkey and stood at attention.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Parts for the repeating crossbows! All thirty-two sets! We’ll assemble them at the front!”

“Good.”

Li An nodded.

That was the only thing he truly felt confident about.

Further back…

The Ministry of Agriculture’s “Farming Soldiers.”

Two hundred men.

Their weapons were hoes.

Yes.

Hoes.

At the front, an old farmer who had passed the imperial exams held a crooked banner reading “Agricultural Guard,” brimming with passion.

“My lord! We may not have fought in war, but we’re strong! One swing of this hoe and a head’ll split open no problem!”

Li An couldn’t help but laugh helplessly.

Are you talking about farming or killing?

“And also!”

The farmer pulled out a handful of sweet potatoes from his chest pouch.

“We brought a hundred thousand jin of dried sweet potatoes! Enough rations for the march!”

Li An took a deep breath.

Good.

Rations secured.

He swept his gaze across the field.

Fifty thousand Imperial Guards.

Three thousand inspectors.

Five hundred artisans.

Two hundred farming soldiers.

The remaining seventy thousand miscellaneous troops were still en route from various regions, scheduled to gather at Yanyun Pass within ten days.

This was all of Great Qi’s strength.

One hundred thirty thousand men.

Opposite them—two hundred thousand elite iron cavalry of Beiyan.

Superior equipment—made with his technology.

Ample supplies—fed by sweet potatoes he introduced.

High morale—they came precisely to exploit Great Qi’s weakness.

Li An did the math silently.

130,000 versus 200,000.

Roughly a 1:1.5 ratio.

Equipment gap: two generations.

Cavalry ratio: Beiyan overwhelming.

Overall combat strength…

He didn’t want to calculate further.

Ding!

【Expedition review complete】

【Great Qi army morale evaluation: Concerning】

【Overall combat strength evaluation: 42% weaker than Beiyan】

【System recommendation: Avoid direct confrontation. Win through strategy.】

【National Fortune -200. Current: 198,771】

Even the system thought this was shaky.

“Ahem.”

Li An cleared his throat and put on the air of an accompanying military strategist.

“Soldiers!”

The field fell silent.

Tens of thousands of eyes fixed on him.

His scalp tingled.

He got nervous presenting to a dozen coworkers in his previous life.

Now he faced over fifty thousand.

“I… am not eloquent.”

A brutally honest statement.

Silence below.

“But I want to say one thing.”

He pointed beyond the parade ground to the citizens crowding against the fences.

“Half a month ago, you were hauling bricks on the walls. Your families were lining up to buy rice. Your children cried in the streets because you couldn’t afford school tuition.”

“And now? There is rice. There is work. There is money.”

“Who gave it to you?”

A quiet voice answered, “The… court.”

“Yes! The court! His Majesty!”

Li An pointed behind him to Emperor Zhao Ling’er seated atop the high platform.

“For you, His Majesty emptied the treasury to buy rice! For you, His Majesty will personally lead this campaign!”

“Now Beiyan dogs are at our gates.”

“Tell me… do we fight or not?”

Two seconds of silence.

Then the inspection squad roared first.

“Fight!”

Jin Daye raised his spiked mace.

“Beat the hell outta them!”

Imperial Guard commanders followed.

“Fight!”

The old farmer raised his hoe.

“Fight!”

Zhang Tiezhu lifted his hammer.

“Fight!”

The waves of shouting built upon one another until they merged into a single thunderous roar that echoed across the entire parade ground.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Even the watching citizens joined in.

Li An stood on the platform, ears ringing from the roar.

And thought to himself—

I’m actually giving a pre-war mobilization speech for Great Qi.

Me.

A Beiyan undercover agent.

Hyping up the Great Qi army.

If the Beiyan Emperor found out, he’d probably grind my bones to dust.

But he had no choice.

His current alignment was “Official of Great Qi.”

If Great Qi fell, he was done.

The system was clear—mission failure meant soul annihilation.

So protecting Great Qi meant protecting himself.

What a perfect example of “fate beyond one’s control.”

Ding!

【Pre-war mobilization success rate: 78%】

【Army morale slightly increased】

【National Fortune +500. Current: 199,271】

Up by five hundred.

Better than nothing.

…

That afternoon, the army began mobilization.

The Ministry of Revenue’s grain shipments departed first.

Weapons and baggage followed.

Jin Daye took charge of logistics.

He applied his capital-era protection racket management experience—and shockingly, the efficiency was incredible.

Every cart’s weight, every horse’s speed, every camp’s location—meticulously arranged.

Li An stared at his logistics list for quite a while.

“Were you a courier in your past life? This project management and distribution efficiency is insane.”

Jin Daye grinned.

“My lord, in our line of work, accounting has to be precise. A jin of goods off by a tael of silver—that’s life or death.”

Fine. Fine.

Underworld management science applied to military logistics.

Cross-disciplinary knowledge transfer, indeed.

…

The night before departure.

Top Scholar Manor.

The moon was bright, though the wind was cold.

Li An sat alone in the courtyard on a stone stool, a single jug of wine before him.

Tomorrow, he would depart with the imperial expedition.

Who knew if he would return alive?

The Emperor might.

He might not.

After all, he was merely an accompanying strategist.

In plain terms—a staff officer.

And what was a staff officer’s position in war?

If the plan succeeded, credit went to the general.

If it failed, blame went to the strategist.

Life and death? Entirely up to fate.

He didn’t know martial arts.

In the chaos of battle… one accident, and he’d be finished.

He poured himself a cup of wine.

Before he could lift it—

A shadow landed silently behind him.

“My lord.”

Hongmei.

He wasn’t surprised. He was used to her entrances.

“What is it?”

“I brought you something.”

Hongmei stepped forward, holding a set of light armor.

The plates were finely polished. Under moonlight, they shimmered with a faint blue sheen.

In any game, this would at least be high-tier gear with special attributes.

“This is?”

“Crafted by the Ministry of Works artisans. I studied Beiyan’s attack patterns and had Zhang Tiezhu forge one specifically for you. It protects your vital points.”

She placed it on the stone table.

“Thirty percent thinner than standard armor, but just as strong. You can wear it under your robe without notice.”

Li An picked it up.

It was indeed light.

Far more comfortable than the heavy armor he had before.

“Hongmei… thank you.”

“No need.”

Hongmei stood before him, her expression as cold as ever.

But under the moonlight, her face seemed to carry a different glow than before.

“Put it on and try it. See if it fits.”

Without waiting for Li An’s reply, she had already picked up the light armor and moved behind him.

Her fingers deftly undid the clasps, then piece by piece fastened the armor onto him.

Li An simply stood there, motionless.

He could feel her fingers as she tied the buckles…

They were trembling slightly.

The tremble was faint—so faint that no one would notice.

But Li An did.

“Hongmei, I…”

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something.

“Don’t.”

She cut him off.

Her voice was soft. “Just come back alive.”

She lowered her head and fastened two more clasps.

“I’ll wait for you in the capital.”

After fastening the final buckle, she stepped back and looked him up and down.

Then nodded.

Originally, Hongmei had intended to follow Li An to war. But when a great army marched, bringing a woman along was considered inauspicious. As a woman, she had no way to accompany him.

After finishing everything, Hongmei turned to leave.

She walked two steps, then suddenly stopped and looked back at him.

That glance held too many things.

But she only said one sentence.

“That night—you and Miss Lin… I didn’t see anything.”

It was the night she had stood outside the door the entire time.

Li An’s heart clenched.

Before he could react, Hongmei had already leapt lightly onto the courtyard wall and vanished into the night.

In the courtyard, only Li An remained.

And a pot of wine gone cold.

The wind swept through, carrying the biting chill of late autumn.

He lowered his head and looked at the light armor he was wearing.

Close-fitting. Warm. Sturdy.

“Foolish girl…”

he muttered softly.

Whether he meant Hongmei, or Liu Wanqing—

Or both.

Foolish girls who had fallen for him, Li An.

He picked up the wine and drained it in one gulp.

Then stood and walked back into the house.

Tomorrow, he would march to war.

Tonight, he had better get some proper rest.

The next day.
Mao hour (around dawn).

At the capital’s Zhengyang Gate, the army surged out in mighty formation.

Zhao Ling’er’s imperial carriage moved at the front—

No, she wasn’t sitting inside.

She had stepped out and mounted a pure white warhorse, clad in golden armor, heroic and gallant.

She looked like a warlike sovereign stepping out of a painting.

Li An rode behind her on an ordinary chestnut horse, mouth hanging slightly open.

Not because he was awed by the young emperor’s bearing.

But because…

He felt something about the emperor’s riding posture was… strange.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Just that it didn’t look quite like how a normal man rode.

Her seat seemed slightly too far forward.

And her back was too straight.

Excessively straight.

That upright bearing didn’t look like that of a martial artist.

It looked more like…

Like a woman riding a horse?

Tsk tsk tsk… something’s off.

He must be imagining things.

Sure, the emperor looked somewhat delicate—but how could she possibly be a woman?

The Dragon Throne of Great Qi wasn’t something a woman could sit upon.

He shook his head hard, banishing the ridiculous thought.

Outside Zhengyang Gate, the people lined the streets to see them off.

After all, recent policies of the Great Qi court had been effective—at least no one was starving anymore.

Naturally, they supported such rule.

Some waved. Some cried out. Some knelt and kowtowed.

An old man with white hair struggled forward carrying a jar of wine.

“Your Majesty… kill the Northern Yan bandits… return victorious…”

Zhao Ling’er turned her head slightly and nodded at the old man.

Her eyes reddened briefly.

But she quickly regained her composure.

On the city wall, Liu Wanqing stood behind the battlements.

She wore plain clothes. Her hair was unbound, tousled by the wind.

Her eyes were fixed on the figure in official robes within the marching army.

She clutched a handkerchief tightly, tears filling her eyes.

“Li An…”

Her lips moved, but her voice was too soft—carried away by the wind.

No one heard.

Only she knew.

Li An turned back once from his horse.

He saw the figure of the plain-clad woman atop the gate tower.

From such distance, he couldn’t see her expression.

But he could see the wind lifting her hair.

He raised his hand slightly—whether it counted as a wave, even he didn’t know.

Then he turned forward again.

Ahead lay the long road to war.

At the end was Yanyun Pass.

Beyond that—

Two hundred thousand Northern Yan cavalry.

Ding!

【The army marches; public sentiment fluctuates】

【National Fortune –1,000】

【Current National Fortune: 198,271】

They had barely left the city, and it had already dropped by a thousand.

Expected.

War always meant falling before rising—

Provided you win.

If you lose, it only falls endlessly—and once fallen, never rises again.

Li An sighed and tugged the reins boldly.

“Hyah.”

Jin Daya rode up beside him.

“Sir! The army’s logistics have been fully sorted! Provisions will last twenty days!”

“Mm.”

“Zhang Tiezhu says we’ll begin assembling the repeating crossbows once we reach Yanyun Pass!”

“Mm.”

“Zhao Dadan says his men can double as cooks!”

“Mm.”

“Sir, why are you always just ‘mm, mm, mm’?”

“Because I’m contemplating life.”

“Huh?”

Li An gazed at the gray horizon and said in an extremely calm yet pretentious tone:

“I’m thinking about how a civil official who knows no martial arts can deliver a one-strike kill to the Northern Yan army.”

The army advanced northward.

During the march, Li An witnessed a Zhao Ling’er he had never seen before.

In the capital’s palace, the young emperor always seemed gentle, soft, fond of overthinking.

But in the army, it was as if she were a different person.

Up at Mao hour daily to inspect the camps.

Personally reviewing each day’s marching route.

Examining grain distribution plans line by line.

One night, scouts reported Northern Yan riders thirty li ahead. The commander of the imperial guards suggested detouring.

Zhao Ling’er asked only one question.

“How many extra days would that take?”

“Two days, Your Majesty.”

“No detour. Increase scouts and advance directly. If my army must avoid a few roaming riders, what battle will we fight at Yanyun Pass?”

The commander dared not speak another word.

Li An stared, dumbfounded.

Wasn’t this young emperor usually easygoing?

Why did she seem like a different person in the army?

That decisive aura reminded him of the female vice president at his previous company.

Smiled three parts in person. Killed with intent in meetings.

Wait.

Why was he thinking about “women” again?

He shook his head hard.

Marching fatigue. Must be muddled.

One small incident left a deep impression on him.

On the third night, a young farmer-soldier had blisters on his feet and could barely walk.

Zhao Ling’er happened to pass by.

Without a word, she took wound medicine from her own kit and tossed it to him.

“Apply it. Keep marching tomorrow.”

The young man froze, then suddenly knelt and shouted:

“Long live Your Majesty—!”

The nearby soldiers’ eyes reddened.

Ding!

【The Emperor personally at the front; soldiers grateful】

【Army morale increased】

【National Fortune +800; Current: 199,071】

Eight hundred gained.

Not a big number.

But this kind of increase…

Was real.

Not financial trickery. Not manipulation.

It was an emperor, using the simplest and most direct method, grinding out national fortune with her own hands.

Li An looked at Zhao Ling’er riding ahead.

A thought suddenly surfaced in his heart.

Perhaps this emperor was far stronger than he had imagined.

Five days later.

Yanyun Pass came into view.

This mighty fortress, stretching across rugged mountains, was Great Qi’s final northern shield.

Its walls rose three zhang high, two zhang thick.

Before it ran a ten-zhang-wide river—the Blackwater River.

Across the barren plain beyond, Northern Yan’s cavalry camp stretched for miles.

Tents packed densely, endless to the eye.

Li An stood atop the fortress wall, using the system’s 【Eagle Eye】 function to observe the enemy camp.

Countless tents.

Countless warhorses.

Countless suits of armor gleaming under the sun.

Those suits of armor…

Jin Daya had somehow appeared beside him.

He, too, was staring across.

“Sir. Those Northern Yan blades and armor… you were the one who supplied them.”

Li An said nothing.

If you can’t speak properly, Jin Daya, then shut up.

The wind howled in from beyond the pass, snapping his official robes loudly.

He looked at that ocean of iron glittering under the sunlight and felt speechless.

Yes.

He had supplied them all.

Every blade, every suit of armor. Every potato, every ingot of iron.

He had personally handed them over.

Back then, he thought he had pulled off a grand scheme—transferring Great Qi’s core technologies to Northern Yan, strengthening them, crashing Great Qi’s national fortune to rock bottom.

But who would have thought—

In this cycle, he had become Great Qi’s loyal minister?

Now those technologies had become the sinews and fangs of Northern Yan’s two hundred thousand troops.

And they were baring those fangs at his face.

“Yes,” Li An said calmly, taking a deep breath.

“I gave them those.”

“So now…”

“I’ll have to take them back.”