Chapter 2: Ironwood Fort, Corporal Hu

Lin Chuan left the house and made his way along the muddy village road toward Uncle Zhao the Blacksmith’s home.

When he passed Yun-niang’s house, the courtyard gate was tightly shut. He had no idea what she might be doing at that moment.

Zhao the Blacksmith’s shop stood beneath the old elm tree at the entrance to the village.

The shop was small, with a faded blue cloth curtain hanging over the doorway.

When Lin Chuan lifted the curtain, Zhao the Blacksmith was squatting on the ground, repairing a plowshare with a chipped edge.

Hearing the movement, he looked up. “Well, if it isn’t Chuan! A rare visitor.”

“Uncle Zhao.” Lin Chuan squatted down beside him. “I want to join the army.”

The file in Zhao’s hand paused. He narrowed his eyes and studied the young man. “Does your mother know?”

“She does.”

“Tsk.” Zhao shook his head, set down his tools, and wiped his hands on his apron. “Come inside. We’ll talk.”

The inner room was even narrower than the front of the shop. Several newly forged sickles and hoes hung from the walls, while half a sack of coarse rice lay in the corner.

Zhao poured Lin Chuan a bowl of tea. The brew was cloudy, with a few flecks of bran floating on its surface.

“What kind of army do you want to join?”

Zhao rubbed the calluses on his fingers. “The county office is recruiting village militia. The pay is a little low, but at least it’s safe…”

Lin Chuan shook his head. “I want to join the frontier army.”

“The frontier army? That’s a place where nine men out of ten never come back.”

Zhao’s brow furrowed even more deeply. “The pay is better, true, but you need to be alive to collect it…”

“I heard the court recently established garrison-farm troops?” Lin Chuan asked cautiously.

Zhao froze. “Where did you hear that?” He lowered his voice. “Those garrison-farm troops were only recently created by the court. There’s one in the hills behind our village. But if you call them frontier troops, they’re even more dangerous than the regular frontier army.”

“Why?”

“Think about it.” Zhao explained, counting on his fingers. “The regular frontier army is stationed in large camps. At least they have strength in numbers. Garrison-farm troops are scattered all over the place. Each fort has only a dozen men or so. If the Tartars raid them, there won’t even be reinforcements to call upon.”

Seeing Lin Chuan’s silence, he tried to dissuade him again. “Your mother has only you, and your father is gone. If you don’t want to join the village militia, then even becoming a provincial soldier would be safer than joining the frontier army…”

“I’d rather die than become a provincial soldier.” Lin Chuan shook his head.

Zhao stared at him, then suddenly understood the true reason Lin Chuan wanted to join the army.

He opened his mouth, intending to say something more.

Before he could speak, heavy footsteps sounded outside, followed by the crisp clatter of metal.

The curtain was swept aside, and three soldiers in dark red padded armor stood in the morning light.

The leader wore a bronze badge at his waist, and sweat still clung to his thick beard.

“Old Zhao, give me a bowl of water first.”

The soldier’s voice was hoarse. “Patrolling the hills in this cursed weather has split my throat.”

“Oh, Sergeant Hu, you’re here early today…” Zhao hurriedly ladled out some water.

Lin Chuan’s gaze fell upon the bronze badge at the soldier’s waist.

The character marking its military number gleamed coldly in the morning light.

In his previous life, Lin Chuan had seen similar military tallies in a museum.

According to the military registers, units bearing that mark were elite troops directly attached to the frontier army.

“The Tartars have been stirring up trouble everywhere these past few days… Are my arrowheads finished?”

The bearded soldier took the bowl and drained it in several gulps. “Ah—that hits the spot!”

“Finished, finished.” Zhao the Blacksmith lifted a sack from the corner. Something clanked inside.

The bearded soldier did not move. Instead, he turned toward Lin Chuan. “This young gentleman looks unfamiliar. Where’s he from?”

“Sergeant Hu, he’s the son of the Lin family here in the village. He usually buries himself in his books and rarely goes out.”

Zhao pulled Lin Chuan closer. “Well, Chuan, weren’t you just asking about the garrison-farm troops? This is Sergeant Hu of Ironwood Fort in the rear hills, a genuine old frontier soldier. Even provincial troops have to give him a wide berth…”

Lin Chuan’s heart stirred.

Garrison-farm troops. That was precisely the kind of army he wanted to join.

Though the court had only recently established this military system, Lin Chuan had encountered similar records in the military histories of his previous life.

The most distinctive feature of such frontier troops was the unity of farming and warfare.

In peacetime, the soldiers cultivated military farmland. In wartime, they took up arms and defended the borders.

If managed properly, a single garrison-farm fort could become entirely self-sufficient, even producing enough surplus grain to attract refugees and gradually expand its strength.

What was more, Ironwood Fort lay in the hills behind the village, scarcely five miles from home.

He would not have to serve far away at some distant frontier post as ordinary border troops did, and he could still look after his family whenever necessary.

Most importantly, the garrison-farm troops answered directly to the Border Defense Command. They belonged to an entirely separate system from the provincial army. Even someone carrying a provincial military warrant had no authority to command them.

If he could secure even a minor rank, Landlord Zhang would no longer be able to stir up much trouble.

“What business does a young scholar have asking about the garrison-farm troops?” Sergeant Hu narrowed his eyes.

“To tell you the truth, Sergeant, I want to join the army,” Lin Chuan replied with utmost respect.

“You want to enlist?” Sergeant Hu raised an eyebrow. “You can read and write, I take it?”

“I can write, calculate, and copy documents,” Lin Chuan answered evenly.

The soldiers exchanged glances. One of them chuckled. “Sergeant, there’s only one way to find out whether he can read.”

Sergeant Hu threw his head back and laughed. From between the layers of his leather armor, he pulled out a roll of oiled paper. “Read it aloud.”

Lin Chuan unrolled the yellowed document and began without hesitation. “Ironwood Fort is allotted two three-barreled muskets and fifteen pounds of gunpowder. Measures must be taken to protect them from damp…”

He suddenly stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” Sergeant Hu asked.

“Sergeant, this is an inventory of military weapons…”

Lin Chuan gently folded the document closed and returned it with both hands. In a lowered voice, he said, “It is a confidential document. I would not dare read any further.”

A sharp gleam flashed through Sergeant Hu’s eyes. His rough hand came down heavily on Lin Chuan’s shoulder.

“Good! You know the rules!” He turned to grin at his men. “See that? Now that’s a man who understands things!”

A young soldier stepped forward and murmured, “Sergeant, isn’t Captain Chen worrying himself sick over those documents—”

“Shut your mouth!” Sergeant Hu glared at him, then turned back to Lin Chuan. His manner had grown noticeably warmer. “Brother, I’ll be honest with you. Ironwood Fort is short of literate men like yourself. The monthly pay is two silver taels and four mace. What do you say?”

“Sergeant, I’ve heard that taking three enemy heads earns one an immediate promotion to junior banner officer. Is that true?” Lin Chuan asked.

“Three enemy heads?” Sergeant Hu stared at him.

The soldiers looked at one another, then burst into laughter.

“Three enemy heads? You’ve got some nerve!”

Sergeant Hu looked Lin Chuan up and down, taking in his slender frame, and gave a derisive snort.

“Bookman, don’t think that reading a few military manuals means you can go onto the battlefield and kill the enemy. A Tartar saber won’t care whether you can read.”

Lin Chuan remained neither servile nor defiant. “Your warning is well taken, Sergeant. But since I mean to enlist, I have no intention of hiding behind the lines.”

“Good!” Sergeant Hu roared. “For the sake of that courage, I’ll give you the chance! Come to Ironwood Fort tomorrow. Whether you become a junior banner officer will depend on how many lives you have left after the Tartars have finished swinging their blades.”

The soldiers broke into loud laughter.

One of them drawled sarcastically, “Sergeant, if this boy really manages to cut down three Tartars, will we all have to start calling him ‘sir’?”

Sergeant Hu kicked him in the backside. “Get lost! If you cut down three, I’ll call you sir myself!”

“Sergeant, there’s one more thing…” Lin Chuan asked. “Can soldiers bring their families?”

“Garrison soldiers may bring their relatives into the fort.”

Sergeant Hu nodded. “If your mother is willing, the fort could certainly use another woman to cook.”

Lin Chuan let out a quiet breath of relief.

He was not thinking of bringing his mother into the garrison.

He was thinking of Yun-niang.

Since relatives could enter the fort, he could bring Yun-niang inside when the time came. Even if Landlord Zhang came to seize her, he would find nothing but an empty house.

Still, Zhang would surely be humiliated and enraged. He might even smash up Yun-niang’s home in retaliation.

Lin Chuan would have to find an opportunity to kill Tartars and earn a promotion to junior banner officer.

“Sergeant!”

A hurried shout suddenly came from outside.

A messenger, drenched in sweat, rushed into the shop. “Sergeant! Smoke is rising from the beacon tower!”

“Damn it! It never ends!” Sergeant Hu’s expression changed drastically. He snatched up the sack of arrowheads and rose to his feet.

He glanced at Lin Chuan and tossed out one final word:

“Tomorrow! I’ll be waiting for you at the fort!”