The others teased him. “Think that single bear gall is enough to cover your third brother’s bride price?”

Doorboard clapped him on the shoulder. “Want me to chip in? But fair warning, your sister-in-law comes with partial ownership rights.”

“It’s enough, it’s enough, no shares for you lot.” Skinny waved it off and carefully tucked the gall into a box.

Everyone knew he was the eldest at home, with four younger brothers and two younger sisters. The second brother had lost a leg in a fight and couldn’t do heavy work to support the family.

With both parents gone, Skinny had taken on a father’s duties. Now that he had a bear gall in hand, he finally had some confidence. “Let’s see what their side dares to demand this time!”

They were about to split up and get some rest when Fire Captain Liu Tong returned. “Don’t scatter just yet. We’ve got our next mission.”

Doorboard blinked. “Right now?”

From the tracking to the ambush to the fight, they had spent over twenty hours killing the bear monster. This should have been the time to recover.

“It’s a compulsory mission, so no bargaining.” Liu Tong’s face was grave. “Treat your wounds, then pack five days of supplies. Rest for three hours, then gather at South Gate Square. This one’s a corps-scale operation.”

Everyone jolted, then a chorus rose, “We’re joining a corps action too?”

“It’s finally our turn?”

“Set-piece battles pay big merit!” And big money. Skinny licked his lips. “I’m sick of butchering stray monsters.”

He Lingchuan asked, “How many corps are in?”

“No idea. It’s classified.” Liu Tong rattled off orders. “Time’s tight. Top up water, pills, arrows, and whatever weapons you need. Walk your horses back to the stable to rest; I’ll requisition fresh mounts for us. Once we’re outside the walls, we may be marching long.”

Doorboard’s expression turned solemn. “Are we heading to Puxi Gully?”

“Don’t know.” Liu Tong hurried off.

Willow rolled her neck until it popped. “Horses get a break, people don’t.” They had hunted for over half a day, staggered back to the city exhausted, and now they had to head out again. “I’m going to grab a nap.”

Skinny needed to sprint home and hand off the day’s haul to his family. But before that, he did not forget to canvas the team, “Hey, with just two hours left, none of you has time to shop, right? Same as last time, twenty scallion-and-meat pies per person, five blocks of cheese?”

Doorboard frowned. “We keep buying from your sister-in-law and don’t even get a discount?”

“It’s for you, so we use the good flour at my place, and we’re generous with the oil. You don’t notice how your lips get slick and everything smells amazing?” Skinny counted on his fingers. “Even so, each pie’s still one copper coin under market. That’s the squad rate, the honest rate!”

“Then why does the meat in the pies taste a little sour?” another squad member leaned in. “What meat is it, exactly?”

“Good meat, perfectly good meat.” Skinny put on a solemn face. “I watched them make every pie with my own eyes. Relax, there was no corner-cutting.”

“I even bit into a fly in one of them,” the squad member grumbled. “If you supervised the whole time, how’d you miss a fly going in?”

“More fly, more meat—crispy and flaky. Why pick it out?”

Everyone booed him, but they still agreed to keep buying rations from his family. Skinny had a whole brood to support and was perpetually short on cash. He would not let half a copper slip through his fingers. Besides, a scallion-and-meat pie was a scallion-and-meat pie no matter who made it, and he was not lying about one thing: his sister-in-law used plenty of oil, and those pies stuck to your ribs.

When the others had dispersed, Skinny asked He Lingchuan, “Broken Blade, you want anything else?”

“Three more kilos of beef jerky. Drier the better—tough, not soggy.”

“Done!” Skinny knew that with no family to feed, He Lingchuan spent freely on food and kit.

Cattle were a precious means of production; unless an ox was sick or old, no one slaughtered one lightly. Beef jerky costs at least three times as much as cheese.

He Lingchuan added, “No cat, no civet. I want proper beef.”

“Got it, got it.” Skinny chuckled and turned to run, only to have He Lingchuan call him back. “Also, get me a few more ghost-shadow cicada shells.”

“Ghost-shadow…” Skinny blinked. “That stuff isn’t cheap.”

“Costing merit is pricier,” He Lingchuan said. Every city had an under-the-table black market, and Panlong City was no exception, even as strict as it was. It was in such places that rare goods, which never appeared in ordinary shops, changed hands. If Hu Min and A’Luo were around, he would not have bothered this guy.

Ghost-shadow cicada husks were the indispensable “seeds” for using the substitution technique. Once He Lingchuan mastered the divine technique, all he had to do was drop one in advance. Then, as long as he was within seventeen meters of it and in the same space, he could swap places with it at will.

Sure, the cooldown was a full six hours, but used right, it was a god-tier move.

After Skinny left, He Lingchuan returned to the Bureau of Bright Prospects and used his banked military merit to redeem the substitution technique.

After that, he found a nearby inn and took a room. The tighter the gap between battles, the more you had to snatch every moment of rest you could.

Hu Min had left the previous day without saying where he was headed. By coincidence, A’Luo had done the same. He Lingchuan figured they had both gone ahead into the Panlong Wasteland.

Across these recent dreamscape entries, he had made a point of gathering intel. It did not take long to learn that Panlong City and the Baling army had already traded blows several times on the battlefield at Puxi Gully. In the face of Baling’s harassment tactics, Panlong City kept its eyes on the big picture rather than getting tied down; it did not sit and wait for trouble, but sent troops to cover the harvest in dense cropland and to escort caravans leaving the city.

When repeated probes failed, the Baling army simply threw more men at robbing merchants on the road.

After all, Puxi Gully’s specialty goods were truly lucrative.

To date, the Baling army had already succeeded in three raids and failed in four, the latest occurring just three days ago.

In just two months, a total of seven raids were carried out, indicating the extent of the rivalry between the two sides.

Operations of this medium-scale and high-frequency nature could not rely solely on the Gale Army; it had its own missions. That was where the patrols came in, timely filling the ranks and becoming one of the main forces in each Puxi Gully escort detail.

Plenty of patrol squads had already taken a turn. Now it was finally He Lingchuan’s unit’s turn.

He had barely stretched out on the couch when the exhaustion of the twenty-odd hours surged up and dragged him under.

On earlier missions, He Lingchuan had been surprised to discover he could fall asleep inside the dream.

That kind of rest did not come with a dream-within-a-dream—it was a heavy, blank sleep, and when he woke, his mind was clear and his fatigue gone.

With two quarter-hours left before his squad was to gather, He Lingchuan headed to the little eatery next door and ordered a basin of plain-boiled mutton, two massive, dense steamed buns, and a big bowl of wonton soup, which he slurped down in a hurry.

Of all foods, meat keeps hunger at bay the longest. As for Skinny’s scallion-and-meat pies, He Lingchuan figured that the later he ate those, the better.

Truth be told, only patrol troops could eat like this in a humble shop. Most folks had to think long and hard before springing for a bowl of mutton soup with just a sheen of oil on top.

A kid at the next table was practically drooling, gnawing slowly on his bun while stealing glances at He Lingchuan’s bowl.

He Lingchuan focused on filling up.

The waiter came over with two water skins filled to the brim and handed them over with a flourish. A lot of patrolmen ate here, and the shop did what it could to keep them as patrons—topping up ready-made rations and fresh water, that sort of thing.

He Lingchuan stood, settled the bill, then pointed at his soup bowl and asked the child, “Want this?”

The kid nodded furiously. There were still a few fat wontons floating in the broth, with scallions and a sheen of oil glimmering on top.

The boy’s mother watched with hungry eyes. The last time her family had tasted meat was, what, two months ago?

He Lingchuan set the bowl on their table and walked out.

South Gate Square, Panlong City.

By the time he found his squad, seven or eight hundred people had already gathered in the square. Judging by their gear, they were mostly patrol troops.

Skinny arrived with his second sister-in-law, handing out rations with one hand and taking money with the other.

The young woman was fair and pretty, with a touch of charm. Two baskets hung from her arms, brimming with freshly made scallion-and-meat pies; steam fogged the oil paper wrapping. She smiled at everyone and took the men’s banter in stride, dirty jokes and all.

Doorboard told Skinny, “If you want me to buy again next time, then your sister-in-law has to do the delivery.”

Skinny rolled his eyes. “That’s if you live through today.” He jerked his chin toward Willow.

Doorboard turned and found Willow glaring daggers, her willowy brows all but standing on end. He ducked his head and coughed twice.

Liu Tong came over and pulled the squad into a side alley where someone was delivering sets of light leather armor.

He Lingchuan blinked, and Doorboard blurted, “Hey, that’s Gale Army kit!”

The Gale Army’s standard-issue gear was unlike any other unit’s, so it was easy to spot at a glance.

Being assigned to the Gale Army and wearing that uniform was a badge of honor that many dreamed of.

“Pipe down. Want the whole square to hear?” Liu Tong made a shushing gesture. “Change here. Move.”

No one asked questions. They slipped into the gear with quick, quiet hands, while others collected their patrol uniforms.

Doorboard stroked the Gale Army cuirass on his chest, eyes full of emotion. “So, we get to keep this?”

The equipment was half new, and its previous owners had clearly worn it for some time. On one sleeve guard, He Lingchuan even spotted a dark, rusty smear of blood.

Pies don’t typically just fall from the sky, not even half-eaten ones. Hence, Willow asked doubtfully, “What are they having us do?”

“Soldiers don’t need to ask so much.” More horses were led in—sleek, glossy, bright-eyed, their coats brushed to a polish. Each saddle had a feedbag of its own hanging from the cantle.

On an arduous march, a mount could graze the wasteland, but if you wanted endurance and staying power, cavalry brought along some concentrated grain.

The squad exchanged looks.

If there was not a serious fight ahead, why prep this thoroughly?

Liu Tong ordered them to lead the horses back to the square.

Willow and the others had their wounds re-dressed. Panlong City’s spirit medicine worked wonders on surface injuries, so movement was no longer an issue.

By now, more than a thousand troops had gathered at South Gate Square. A broad-shouldered man in heavy armor stepped up and began the general address.

He Lingchuan heard someone whisper that this was General Nanke.