“I know Shen Jian’s methods well enough. With gunpowder clearing the way, Beili will belong to Dayan sooner or later—and it can belong only to Dayan!” Through their use of gunpowder and coordination with the soldiers, they had already worked out a complete and practical strategy, and had passed their experience along to the troops operating on the Beili front.
Wei Shouyi spoke with absolute confidence and boldness, because he vaguely felt that the Grand Preceptor thought the same way.
No one could defy the Grand Preceptor’s will.
“General, what we need to consider next is how to take Nanzhao.” Wei Shouyi’s large hand tapped a spot on the map. “Although the Sixth Princess of Nanzhao is leading the charge, we can’t simply stand by and do nothing. His Majesty would never let her conquer Nanzhao’s territory on her own.”
Whether they could succeed or not was one thing, but it would hardly sound good if word got out.
“Not sound good? I think it sounds great!” Yue Fuguang held up the words she had written herself—“The Heroes of Dayan Shall Live Forever”—along with the inscription beneath them. She looked at them from left to right, then right to left, and found them flawless.
[Host, where is “Heroes’ Memorial Stele” supposed to sound good? Don’t you think it’s too blunt and completely lacking in refinement?]
“System, I wrote this for ordinary people. They haven’t studied much and many of them can’t read. Only straightforward wording like this will let them understand at a glance why the monument was built.”
The system had no way to argue with her. Then it remembered that things seemed to be done the same way in her hometown, so it decided to let her have her way.
News that the imperial court would erect a monument to the soldiers who had died in the wars quickly spread throughout Dayan and across the entire military.
At first, the matter was merely a hot topic among the common people.
“Have you heard? The court is going to erect a monument for the soldiers who died in battle. They say it’s to commemorate how they fought for the country, shedding blood and sacrificing their lives, and to honor their contributions to expanding our borders.”
“I know, I know.” A lively young man in his twenties immediately chimed in, determined not to let the other man’s words fall flat.
“I heard that from now on, these men will receive offerings from all the people. Does that mean that even if they left behind no descendants, they won’t lack incense in the underworld?”
After all, many soldiers were still very young, and plenty had died before marrying or having children.
A middle-aged man with a beard smacked his lips. His robe was worn, but it had been washed fairly clean and was still neat. “That’s not all!”
The young man hurriedly asked, “Scholar, what else is there? Are there other benefits too?”
Being addressed as “Scholar” clearly pleased the middle-aged man. He cleared his throat. “They say this was first suggested by our Divine Maiden.”
He pointed toward the sky. “Since it was something the Divine Maiden proposed, how could the imperial court fail to handle it properly? As for the materials used for the monument, although they won’t be as fine as those used for the Divine Maiden’s Temple on Lotus Mountain, they certainly won’t be cheap.”
He gently stroked his beard. “A thousand years from now, who knows whether our graves will still exist? But their names will be known, remembered, and worshiped by later generations.” The more he spoke, the more envious he became.
Someone couldn’t help clicking his tongue. “Surely the court isn’t erecting a separate monument for every single person? How much would that cost? And there wouldn’t even be enough land!”
The people of the capital, born beneath the Son of Heaven, received news more quickly than others. They had heard that the Heroes’ Monument would be built beside Lotus Mountain, on Great Azure Mountain. After all, every part of the green hills was meant to be a burial place for loyal bones.
Unfortunately, Great Azure Mountain was all sheer cliffs and precipitous slopes. There weren’t many places where people could actually be buried.
The middle-aged scholar shook his head. “It won’t be one monument per person. Their names will be carved onto a wall, to be passed down forever.”
When he said “passed down forever,” he emphasized each word. If he hadn’t already been in his forties, too old for the army to accept him, he might well have gone to the battlefield himself for the sake of such a name.
His heart was full of regret, and even his voice was heavy with longing. “What a pity. If I were ten or fifteen years younger, I’d go fight on the battlefield too. If I died, my name would be carved onto the Heroes’ Wall, and later generations would offer me incense. If I were lucky enough to survive, I could at least carve out a future for myself.”
He had spent nearly twenty years taking the examinations and was still only a licentiate. He might never advance any further in this life. Compared to that, it really would be better to risk everything on the battlefield.
While he lamented his own circumstances, someone else took his words to heart.
“The court will really record the name of every soldier who dies in battle?”
“Ergou, if it were you, it might be better not to have your name recorded!” someone teased when he heard the young man named Ergou ask the question.
“Shanzhu, is your name any better?” Ergou naturally refused to back down in the face of a personal attack.
“Shanzhu sounds mighty and imposing!” Liu Shanzhu retorted. He had recently learned the phrase from his younger sister, who attended school. He liked the words and had committed them to memory.
“Hmph! So what if my name is Ergou? If it can be remembered by later generations, who cares?” Ergou very much wanted to curse and rant, but in the end he held his tongue.
He planned to go enlist that very day. He didn’t want to waste too much time arguing with Liu Shanzhu.
“Are these all the names of the soldiers who died in battle?” The news that the imperial court intended to erect a monument for the fallen had spread among the common people, but those in the army had heard it earlier and knew more details.
As soon as they received the news, they passed it down through every army. For soldiers who had already fought on the battlefield—as well as those preparing to do so—this news was even more inspiring than receiving a few extra taels of compensation.
The black-faced general nodded firmly. “Your Excellency is wise. As soon as we received the news, the military overseers, record keepers, and others began compiling the rolls of our fallen brothers.
“Not a single one will be omitted, and not a single name will be entered incorrectly.”
The deputy general beside him added, “From the very beginning, we followed the Grand Preceptor’s orders and created detailed registers for every man. Their names, native places, and home addresses are all recorded clearly.”
Because of this, even the armies that did not belong to Yue’s Army felt indebted to the Grand Preceptor.
With these records in place, even if a man met an unfortunate end on the battlefield, his remains could ultimately be sent back to his hometown. That, too, was something the Grand Preceptor had required. Even if they died wrapped in their armor, they would still be returned home.
It was precisely because of this that the brothers on the battlefield were willing to fight without fear for their lives. They all knew that even if they died, they would still have a place to return to.
The minor official in green robes smiled and nodded. “The Grand Preceptor truly had the foresight. Thanks to him, we’ve been spared a great deal of work verifying these records.”
Their arrival immediately attracted the attention of the soldiers in the forward camps. News that the imperial court had sent people to reward the army and take away the registers of the fallen spread like wildfire.
In the battles against the Beili army that followed, morale rose even higher. Even without relying on gunpowder, the Dayan army drove the Beili forces back again and again.
The Beili army fled ahead, while the Dayan army pursued close behind.
