Volume 1, Chapter 21: Don't Think About Sleeping Tonight!

Home at last?

Zhang Muyang, Zhang Xiaobei, and the others glided along on their sleds, their eyes gleaming as they gazed at the outline of their snow-covered village in the distance.

This was their first time away from home for so long. Every person’s back basket was packed to the brim: bags of unpolished rice bulged like small hills, sugar wrapped in oil paper exuded a sweet aroma, and some even had half a slab of cured meat tucked away in secret. With the end of the year approaching and over a tael of silver in their pockets—newly issued pay—they had bought as much as they could, unsure when they might return again.

The back baskets belonging to Zhang Muyang and Su Ying were even more overloaded. Salt was wrapped in three layers of oil paper, indigo-dyed coarse cloth was stacked neatly, and bags of white flour were stuffed tight. There was also half a side of pork, a bundle of radishes, two large cabbages, and even wine jars intended for the village blacksmith, Han, and the village elder, all wedged into the corners until not a sliver of space remained.

Half a mile from the village, they saw the lame man leaning on his crutches atop the slope at the village entrance. Upon spotting them, he immediately struck the brass gong in his hand.

"Clang! Clang! Clang—"

Had something happened?

The village elder, leaning on his staff, rushed out with the other villagers, only to find the lame man chatting with a group of government soldiers, a smile on his face. The villagers were stunned. Just a short while ago, those soldiers had been searching the village; why were they so friendly now?

Suddenly, an officer clad in scale-patterned armor strode forward. His plates clattered crisply as he moved, and as sunlight filtered through the clouds, the fish-scale patterns on his armor shimmered with a brilliant, imposing light. The villagers’ hearts tightened in an instant.

"Uncle!"

"You are..."

The village elder squinted for a long moment before exclaiming in surprise, "Oh! It's Muyang, Xiaobei, and the others back!"

Who? Zhang Muyang?

The villagers erupted in an instant, swarming toward them. When they clearly saw the scale-patterned armor on Zhang Muyang and the tanned leather armor on Su Ying and Zhang Xiaobei, everyone’s jaws dropped.

"My goodness, have they... become officials?"

"That’s the armor of a squad leader, isn't it? I’ve seen it in the county seat—it’s much brighter than a corporal’s!"

"They became squad and corporal leaders after only a month? This boy has truly made something of himself!"

The villagers were in a frenzy. It had only been a month since they joined the army! Previously, Zhang Muyang and his companions had been as thin as bean sprouts; now, standing in the snow, their shoulders were broad, their backs thick, and their sun-darkened skin looked sturdy and strong. They had even become officers. The young men who hadn't joined the army felt a pang of envy, wishing they could strip the armor off the returnees and put it on themselves.

"Brother Muyang!" A young man squeezed forward, rubbing his hands together. "When is the next recruitment? I want to go too!"

"Count me in!"

"Me too!"

In the blink of an eye, over twenty young men stood in a row, their eyes burning with anticipation. In these lean times, being a soldier, receiving pay, and even wearing armor as an officer was a dream they never dared to imagine.

Zhang Muyang smiled and waved his hands. "Don't be anxious, everyone. When there is news of recruitment, I will be sure to tell you first. Now, disperse; it’s getting dark."

"Husband..." Yang Wenxiu and Yang Wenjuan pushed through the crowd, grabbing Zhang Muyang’s arms and refusing to let go.

For the past month, they had been plagued by nightmares, dreaming that Zhang Muyang had been wounded on the battlefield, covered in blood. Now that he stood before them, alive and well, they could no longer hold back; tears fell like broken strings of pearls.

Zhang Muyang ruffled Yang Wenjuan’s hair and asked, "Silly girl, didn't I come back? Where is Han Li?"

"Sister Han and Old Man Han are at the back mountain, busy forging weapons."

"Xiaobei, go call them back."

"On it!" Zhang Xiaobei replied, stepping onto his sled and racing toward the back mountain with incredible speed.

The villagers crowded around Zhang Muyang as he walked home. Since they couldn't fit inside the house, they packed into the courtyard, reluctant to leave.

Gousheng gestured wildly as he recounted tales from the barracks. "We had to get up to run before dawn every day. The snow was up to our knees, and if you ran too slow, you’d get the whip! We chopped wooden stakes until our palms bled, and at night we had to stand in horse stance. Even when our cotton coats froze into shells of ice, we weren't allowed to move..."

The villagers listened, spellbound, letting out gasps of amazement from time to time.

Taking advantage of the moment, Zhang Muyang pulled a jar of strong liquor and a slab of cured meat from his basket and pressed them into the village elder's hands. "Uncle, the New Year is almost here. Please accept this as a sign of my respect."

"Haha, you boy!" The elder’s mustache twitched with joy. He didn't decline, instead waving his hand to dismiss the villagers. "Alright, everyone go home. Let the boys rest. Whatever you want to hear, ask them again tomorrow!"

The crowd gradually dispersed, and the courtyard finally grew quiet. Only Zhang Muyang, Yang Wenxiu, Yang Wenjuan, and Su Ying remained in the house.

The oil lamp sputtered, and a spark landed on Su Ying’s fingertip. She frowned and flicked her hand, causing her binding cloth to slip. Her chest, long tightly constrained, finally breathed free, though dark red welts remained on her pale skin—the proof of "Zhang Ying's" existence.

Zhang Muyang’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He whispered, "In the barracks... does it hurt?"

"It hurts now." She suddenly grabbed his hand and pressed it against the welts. "Will you rub it for me?"

"You... you’re sleeping on the kang with me tonight!" Zhang Muyang felt his throat tighten and his heart thumping wildly.

Su Ying arched an eyebrow, a cunning smile on her face. "Fine, but don't regret it."

"Regret what?" Just as Zhang Muyang spoke, he realized something, and his face turned pale. "You... that time of the month, you aren't on it again, are you?"

It had been exactly a month, after all!

Su Ying’s cheeks turned crimson instantly. She pouted, "Who knew it would be such a coincidence, landing right when we get home?"

"Husband..." Han Li rushed in like a ball of fire, throwing herself into Zhang Muyang’s arms. The heat from her chest radiated through her coarse clothing. "Why did you come back so suddenly? Did you know I was thinking of you every day?"

Zhang Muyang smiled bitterly. "The war at Zhenbei Pass is intensifying. We only have three days of leave... I fear we’ll be heading to the battlefield when we return."

"What?" The faces of Yang Wenxiu, Yang Wenjuan, and Han Li turned deathly pale. In these chaotic times, going to the battlefield meant a life of nine deaths and one life; whether they would return was anyone’s guess.

"What is there to fear?" Blacksmith Han strode in, his voice booming. "A real man should fight on the battlefield and be wrapped in horse hide when he dies."

"Old man is right." Zhang Muyang laughed and pulled another jar of wine from his basket. "You work too hard forging iron every day; drink some tonight to warm your body."

"That’s more like it." Blacksmith Han took the jar and pulled a blade from behind his back, handing it to Su Ying. "Miss Su, see if this blade suits your hand."

The blade was narrow and long, with a tip that curved slightly upward in a graceful arc—it was the Yanling Saber of the Su family of Northern Yan!

Su Ying gripped the hilt, her fingertips gliding over the icy steel. A spark of joy flashed in her eyes. "Thank you, Uncle Han!"

She swung the blade, carving an arc through the air. The edge whistled, causing the oil lamp’s flame to flicker.

"Don't just look at the sword." Zhang Muyang clapped his hands. "I brought back white flour and pork. We’re making dumplings tonight."

Making dumplings? In these times, when even coarse grains were scarce, it was an unimaginable luxury.

Yang Wenxiu, Han Li, and Yang Wenjuan immediately got to work; some kneaded dough, others tended the fire... Su Ying even grabbed the Yanling Saber to mince the meat. Before long, plates of dumplings were served on the kang table. The aroma of white flour mixed with the scent of meat filled the room.

The group sat around the edge of the kang, laughing and eating, the room filled with warmth.

Night deepened. Blacksmith Han took the empty wine jar back to the cave in the back mountain, where the iron furnace was still burning and required his attention.

Just as Zhang Muyang blew out the oil lamp, Han Li slipped under his covers, her warm body pressing against his. Her voice trembled. "Husband, let me hold you..."

Her initiative was like a spark, igniting a deep, intense heat in Zhang Muyang’s gut.

[Ding!]

A system notification exploded in his mind:

[Physique: Elite Soldier +1 (Current Physique 3.0 -> 4.0)]

[Current number of wives: 3 (Names: Yang Wenxiu, Yang Wenjuan, Han Li)]

[Current Status: Stamina 2.0 -> 3.0]

[Arm Strength +1 (From Han Li)]

[Unlocked: "Squad Leader Physique"]

Note: Early stage of the Meat-Refining Realm. Muscles are coiled like steel cables; a dull thud sounds when force is applied. With the strength of a thousand catties in his hands, he can carry a two-hundred-pound iron cage on one arm while sprinting...

Zhang Muyang felt the surging power within his body. As his arm muscles bulged, they actually emitted a faint creaking sound. He hadn't expected Han Li to provide a bonus to arm strength. If he had a decent bow, this strength would surely be put to great use.

If that failed, perhaps he could have Blacksmith Han forge some steel needles?

For close-quarters combat, they might even be more effective than a blade.

While Zhang Muyang was lost in thought, Han Li’s arms wrapped around him, and she whispered, "Husband, let’s do it again..."