Chapter 793: General Banya
Luobu wanted to trade his medicinal broth for Nanke's meat soup, but Nanke was unwilling.
She looked toward Chen Changsheng. With some difficulty, he blinked his eyes, then turned his head even more laboriously toward Luobu, expressing his gratitude through his gaze.
The medicinal broth was brought to his lips. He noticed the bowl had been washed very clean, with no residual vegetable flavor, let alone any trace of grease.
Then he detected the scent of seventeen medicinal herbs in the bowl. Those herbs were far from precious in the capital, but in such a remote horse ranch, they should have been very difficult to gather. Of course, what surprised him most was not the cleanliness of the bowl or the completeness of the herbs, but the medical skill Luobu had demonstrated through this bowl of medicinal broth.
Time moved slowly forward in the exchange between medicinal broth and meat soup. Chen Changsheng and Nanke had already been staying at Banya Horse Ranch for four days.
Nanke remained dazed and confused, not knowing who Chen Changsheng was or who she was herself, only vaguely remembering that Chen Changsheng was very important to her. She stayed by his side every day, cooling his medicine, boiling his meat, washing and wiping him, like a maidservant, and she kept a vigilant watch on everyone who tried to approach this room—except for one person: Luobu.
In the first three days when he couldn't speak, Chen Changsheng often wondered if it was because Luobu had given her so much meat to eat?
By the fourth day, he still couldn't get out of bed, but his body could make slight movements, like turning over or raising his hand. Most importantly, he could speak. What surprised him somewhat was that the officer named Luobu hadn't questioned him again about his origins.
Although it was a remote horse ranch, there was still plenty of business. As the chief officer, Luobu naturally couldn't slack off and stay in the room all the time. Often, it was his personal guards, subordinates, or other officers from the ranch who brought the medicinal broth. Because of his bloodline heritage and, even more so, because he had cultivated the Method of Following the Heart since childhood, Chen Changsheng inherently possessed a quality that made people feel close to him. This had been true of the black sheep in the palace and the black dragon under North New Bridge, let alone these relatively simple-minded officers. In a very short time, he had become familiar with them.
As long as one ignored Nanke's beast-like, protective glare, Chen Changsheng's conversations with the officers could be said to proceed very smoothly. He gained a more genuine understanding of the frontline situation and a more intuitive grasp of military morale. More importantly, he learned the stories of Banya Horse Ranch and Officer Luobu.
Anyone who heard Luobu's story would inevitably feel great sympathy and anger at the injustice. Chen Changsheng was no exception.
He believed that the military merits Luobu had accumulated over the years were not due to luck or connections, but truly because of his talent.
From the seemingly relaxed yet actually highly orderly daily management and life at Banya Horse Ranch, one could see this man's skill in commanding subordinates and governing. And the fact that just a few doses of medicinal broth could rapidly improve Chen Changsheng's injuries further demonstrated his medical expertise.
Of course, these were impressions gained through conversation, naturally not as good as seeing with one's own eyes.
To see with his own eyes, he first had to be able to get out of bed and stroll around the ranch.
But he hadn't thought about why he was so interested in that officer named Luobu.
On the seventh day, Chen Changsheng got out of bed.
Back then, Zhezhe had suffered countless tortures in Zhou Prison, with his meridians broken, and had relied on the stimulation of pain to heal his injuries in the shortest time. Chen Changsheng used the same method. The entire previous night, he had been fighting against unimaginable pain.
Nanke had been attending to him the whole time, wiping his sweat with a towel, feeding him water, gently stroking his chest. Her movements were naturally clumsy and awkward, but very earnest, and she expended a great deal of mental energy. When she saw that he had finally calmed down at the fourth watch, she fell asleep with relief, not even noticing that he had left the room.
Morning light spilled across the meadows between the mountains. Thin mist flowed down from the valleys. The newly awakened herd of horses made faint, mixed sounds.
Chen Changsheng picked up a tree branch, supporting his weak body as he wandered casually around the ranch.
It wasn't that he didn't care for his health; on the contrary, he needed to move around to help the newly reconnected meridians stabilize as quickly as possible.
Banya Horse Ranch was vast. The barracks, arrow towers, and formation hubs seemed scattered randomly in various corners, but if one observed carefully, one could discern a certain pattern hidden among them, designed to ensure the most effective response when encountering an enemy.
Chen Changsheng had thoroughly read the Daoist canon but had never studied military strategy. He could see through the brilliance of Banya Horse Ranch's military layout at a glance because, during his long journey south from the snowy plains, Su Li had taught him sword techniques while also imparting much knowledge in this area.
From the freshness of the soil in front of the formation hubs, wooden stockades, and fences, one could tell that these arrangements were likely changes Luobu had made after arriving at Banya Horse Ranch.
The more Chen Changsheng looked, the more he felt that these military deployments subtly embodied the art of war, perfectly confirming the knowledge Su Li had spoken of back then. He couldn't help but feel great admiration for this man, yet he didn't connect this to certain other matters.
The northern mountains were majestic, steep, and merciless, and the weather was even more capricious. The slightly cold morning light suddenly turned into a howling, bone-chilling gale. Countless yellow sands were swept up by the fierce wind from the mountain pass, charging toward the ranch. In an instant, heaven and earth became dark and murky.
Throughout the military camp, warning whistles, stern commands, and hurried footsteps sounded everywhere.
Chen Changsheng didn't want to cause trouble. Supporting himself with the tree branch, he slowly moved back along the eaves. When he looked up, he saw Luobu.
Luobu was delighted to see that he could walk, smiling broadly, revealing a mouthful of white teeth. "Congratulations," he said.
At that moment, he was in a hurry to arrange for his subordinates to deal with the sandstorm and had no time to say more. He glanced at the branch under Chen Changsheng's arm, shook his head, and pointed to the door behind him, signaling Chen Changsheng to go inside and take shelter.
At Chen Changsheng's current speed, by the time he shuffled back to his original room, the sandstorm would have already engulfed the area. He had no reason to refuse. Following the instruction, he walked in. Before he could turn around, the door closed behind him, and a clear clapping sound came from outside.
Luobu must have triggered some mechanism on the door or wall. A thick crossbar sealed the door shut, while several sturdy wooden planks dropped down, blocking the windows completely. At the same time, an oil lamp on the table lit up without any flame.
Chen Changsheng didn't misunderstand, so he didn't panic. He carefully examined the mechanisms in the room, finding them simple in construction yet extremely refined—even the most ordinary person could operate them. He assumed all the barracks in the ranch had similar setups, so he completely relaxed.
The next moment, his gaze was drawn to the things on the desk.
The faint yellow lamplight fell on the table, illuminating those sheets of paper.
They were very expensive Shizhou paper. Not even the Songshan Military Prefecture had much of this, let alone such a remote horse ranch.
Some sheets bore ink characters, while others were covered in paintings.
Chen Changsheng was not skilled in poetry, calligraphy, or painting, but having thoroughly read the Daoist canon, he had a discerning eye.
The calligraphy was excellent—its strength hidden beneath a seemingly plump exterior, as if disdainful of showing off.
The paintings were also superb: one was a bold splash-ink landscape, the other a meticulous flower-and-bird piece reflecting heaven and earth.
Whose room was this? Whose calligraphy and paintings were these?
In such a desolate horse ranch, how could anyone afford to use Shizhou paper so lavishly, write such fine calligraphy, and paint such exquisite pictures?
A vague answer formed in Chen Changsheng's mind.
Then, he saw the signatures on those two paintings.