Over the past year, Jiang Jin had used the concrete actions of the Jinyang Army to change the people's perception of soldiers.
Now, the citizens of Gufeng had absolute trust and admiration for the Jinyang Army.
The soldiers who had died in the Battle of Shanguan County had been brought back a few days ago and were solemnly buried in the Martyrs' Cemetery of the Gosi Mountains.
Dean Chen Zi's speech still echoed in their ears. They clearly understood that their current peaceful and happy life was bought with the blood and lives of their Lord and the Jinyang Army.
The wounded soldiers now accompanied by the Jinyang Army had undoubtedly made contributions to the country and its people. How could they not be respected?
When they entered the courtyard arranged for them with mixed emotions, Yun Ye and the others were left speechless. The houses were far too splendid.
Jiang Jin had assigned them courtyards on Taihua Mountain, each able to house ten to twenty people.
Yun Ce, being young, proudly showed off the glass, heated brick beds, and various tables and chairs, describing them enthusiastically.
The others were deeply astonished. Was this still the world they used to know?
Everyday items like clothes and bedding were soon delivered, and Mu Zhuo began examining each of them one by one. Everything felt like a dream to them.
Meanwhile, Jiang Jin, after removing her makeup, went to the county office.
Dong Si was just telling Luo Qingci about the arrival of fifteen thousand new refugees. When they saw her, they quickly bowed.
Jiang Jin waved her hand. "No need for formalities."
Luo Qingci’s expression showed some concern. "Lord, should all fifteen thousand people be placed in Shanguan County?"
Jiang Jin’s population was currently about over sixty thousand. Adding these fifteen thousand would bring it close to eighty thousand. If all houses in the three counties were completed, they could barely accommodate them.
But construction was underway everywhere, and the entire town was chaotic, making it difficult to settle them.
Jiang Jin understood the situation in the town. Ten thousand people each had been sent to Chunrong County and Shanguan County for construction, while others were assigned to building roads and watchtowers.
After a moment’s thought, she said, "Let these more than ten thousand refugees build villages. I’ll go and decide on the specific locations for the villages shortly."
A quarter of an hour later, Jiang Jin, along with Yun Chengxuan, Guo Li, and others, rode out of the county town, heading straight for the central area between the three counties.
Yun Chengxuan followed behind her, delighted. "Aunt, I find this really fun, though my so-called 'great luck' hasn’t come in handy."
Jiang Jin knew he was referring to the 'Dragon King Gang' incident and found it amusing. "That’s just a minor trick, not worth doing too often."
Jiang Jin had previously surveyed the terrain and had a good idea of where to build the villages. This trip was mainly to check on water sources and other conditions.
While they were examining the village construction, the plague in Ze’e County was growing increasingly severe. Sheng Chi finally decided to "cut off the tail."
The aristocratic family soldiers, armed with bows and arrows, stood at a distance, forcing several thousand plague-stricken people toward the camp of Qu Zhao’s army.
Not all of these people were actually infected with the plague; about a third were still healthy but had come into contact with the sick.
Sheng Chi didn’t want to take any risks, so he decided not to leave a single one alive.
The soldiers drove the people to within a few miles of Qu Zhao’s camp before stopping and shouting.
"Take the weapons in your hands and kill the Qu Zhao soldiers! These barbarian Yi have destroyed our Han nation and our homes. They are the enemies of all Han people!"
"Even though you aren’t soldiers, many of you have lost relatives and friends to the barbarian Yi. It’s time to avenge them!"
At the front of the crowd was a man in his twenties. He wasn’t sick, but his entire family had caught the plague, so he had been driven out with them.
He looked down at the stick in his hand—what the soldiers called a 'weapon'—and felt a wave of sorrow.
Killing enemies? Seeking revenge? It was all just a scheme to infect the Qu Zhao people with the plague.
But under the soldiers’ arrows, they had no way out. They could only slowly trudge toward the Qu Zhao army camp.
As they got closer to the camp, the aristocratic soldiers dared not advance further and merely watched from afar.
If the people dared to turn back, they would raise their bows.
At that moment, a troop of Qu Zhao soldiers charged out. Seeing the distant aristocratic soldiers and then the Han people shuffling toward them, they were perplexed. Fearing an ambush, they quickly halted and raised their bows. "Stop!"
The people immediately stopped. In front of them, Qu Zhao soldiers aimed with bows; behind them, aristocratic soldiers did the same.
The crowd huddled together in fear. The sick people, already suffering, felt even more hopeless. Whether they advanced or retreated, death seemed certain.
Children, sensing the approach of death, started crying but dared not sob loudly, clinging tightly to their parents and relatives, whimpering quietly.
A sense of grief and despair hung over everyone. Many began to weep softly.
The man turned back to look at his parents and family. Their faces, flushed with fever, showed both unnatural redness and expressions of despair and terror.
His heart ached, and a look of desperate resolve flashed in his eyes. Turning to face the Qu Zhao soldiers, he shouted, "We are Han people infected with the plague, driven out by the aristocratic families."
The Qu Zhao soldiers collectively stepped back. The plague!
Their camp was not entirely free of infection, but as soon as cases were discovered, they were burned immediately to prevent its spread.
Seeing the Qu Zhao soldiers retreat, the man felt a glimmer of hope and continued, "The aristocratic families are ruthless and heartless. They forced us to come and attack your Qu Zhao army."
"Once you shoot us dead and move our bodies, you will inevitably catch the plague. That is their poisonous plan."
"We are just ordinary people, forced into this. We only want to leave this place. Let us pass, and we swear we will not attack you."
The aristocratic soldiers in the distance grew furious. Pointing their arrows at the people, they shouted, "Are you taking this step to treat the enemy as your fathers?"
The man turned back to look at them, his eyes filled with fear, hatred, and grief.
"For generations, we have farmed the lands of the Sheng family. After the Qu Zhao invaded Fengzhou, we followed you to Ze’e County, still working for you—farming the land, repairing city walls, digging pits to bury the dead."
"You conscripted men into the army. All three of my brothers went to war, and none returned."
"Now, my parents, my sisters-in-law, and my nephews and nieces have all caught the plague. We don’t blame you for driving us out, and we don’t want to infect innocent people."
"But we only ask to die with dignity and with our bodies intact. Can’t you grant us even that?"
If they followed the plan and attacked the Qu Zhao army, those who died would have it easy—an end to their suffering.
But if they survived, he could accept his own fate, but he couldn’t bear to think of what would happen to his sisters-in-law and nieces.
"Can’t we even choose how we die?" His voice grew weak, filled with deep sorrow.
Qu Shilang was discussing the withdrawal plan with his subordinates.
Their forces were already limited, and many were wounded. Attacking either Ze’e County or the Jinyang Army would be difficult.
With winter approaching, it would take time for the Great Chanyu to redeploy troops and move them from Wuqin. The only option was to retreat first and plan again next year.
Just then, a soldier rushed in to report: "General, several thousand plague-stricken people from Ze’e County have arrived a few miles from our camp. Should we shoot them?"
Qu Shilang was startled. "What’s going on?"
The soldier reported, "It was the soldiers from the noble families who forced them to come to our side..."
After Qu Shilang heard the full story, he could not help but sneer. "These noble families in Ze'a Prefecture really have no shame. Acting like this, aren't they afraid of chilling the hearts of the city's people?"
