Chapter 21: Promotion to Fire Chief

The scene was incredibly bloody, though that did little to dampen the resolve of the Tibetan raiders. What truly shook them to their core was the sheer strength of Zhao Mang. They had seen more than their fair share of cowards, but a warrior as ferocious as this was a first.

After dispatching the raider before him, Zhao Mang locked his gaze onto the Tibetan leader. The captain, now gripped by fear and finding no heart to resist Zhao Mang’s onslaught, turned his horse to flee. How could Zhao Mang let such a prize slip away? He pulled a crossbow from his coat—a custom-made piece he had commissioned from a craftsman for exactly such an emergency—and fired. At such close range, the Tibetan captain stood no chance. The bolt pierced his neck, blood sprayed, and he tumbled from his horse.

At that same moment, Zhu Qiqi struck down the final raider. Zhao Mang let out a roar of triumph, and his men, following his lead, erupted into cheers. This was their first true joint victory against the Tibetan raiders. Everyone had played their part, fought with all their might, and secured their own kill. It was an achievement they never would have dared to dream of before, yet under Zhao Mang’s leadership, they had done it.

After clearing the battlefield, Zhao Mang ordered a large pot of mutton boiled with nothing but a pinch of salt. The simple, fresh meat was exquisite. As they sat around the pot, sharing the joy of their victory, the craftsmen were so moved by the atmosphere that they joined in as well. Watching the camaraderie, Zhao Mang felt a genuine sense of belonging. Thinking of the two women waiting for him at home, he mused that this life was not so bad after all.

Before the group dispersed, Li Dabing returned. He was faster than usual, waving a plaque excitedly at Zhao Mang, as if Zhao Mang’s promotion brought honor to his own face. "Squad Leader Zhao! From now on, you are officially a Squad Leader. This is the special badge issued by the main camp!"

The men, still feasting on mutton, cheered the news. "Congratulations, Squad Leader Zhao! With you leading us, we will surely go on to win more battles and achieve great things," Xiao Han was the first to chime in.

Zhao Mang asked, "How much silver did those five raiders fetch?"

Li Dabing fished out his money pouch. "Squad Leader, the superiors gave us ten taels of silver. Ordinary raiders are one tael each, and that little captain was worth five. But I think the best part is your promotion." He pointed to the men behind him. "They’ve assigned five more soldiers to your squad, along with a cart of grain. Our unit is growing, Squad Leader Zhao!"

Zhao Mang was pleased that his unit was expanding, but he also realized he needed more capital. With over twenty people to feed and a camp that now needed to be expanded to accommodate them, the expenses were mounting. Ten taels for five raiders—including a captain—was far too little.

Zhao Mang assigned the five new recruits to his men, pairing each veteran with a newcomer. He then distributed the bounty from the previous battle based on individual contribution. As expected, Li Dabing quietly informed him that the higher-ups had skimmed half of the merit reward.

Before Li Dabing could even rest, Zhao Mang gave him another order: take the heads of ten more raiders to the main camp to exchange for silver. Li Dabing was stunned—he had only been gone for a few days, and they had already slain ten more? He could hardly believe it, but seeing the men grinning at him, he realized Zhao Mang was not joking.

This time, however, Zhao Mang had a strange request. "Dabing, when you get to the border camp, make a scene. Publicize our victory and ensure everyone knows we’ve taken ten heads." Li Dabing was puzzled by the logic, but he was a simple man who followed orders without question—perhaps that was why Zhao Mang trusted him with these errands.

Zhao Mang pondered the three recent raids. Something felt off. He had let the first group go to lure more in, but the subsequent waves were larger and always led by a captain. This was not typical of the small-scale looting parties usually sent by the Tibetans. They usually wouldn't keep escalating their numbers; it made him suspect the Tibetans might be planning something bigger, using these incursions as probes.

He stopped overthinking it. The world he lived in did not align with the history he knew, leaving him without a map. His only recourse was to train his men, hone his own skills, and quickly build a formidable force. With a dozen men already under his command, he believed one more significant battle would earn him the rank of a minor general. Once he secured a fief, his position would be cemented.

...

At the Zhang estate, Zhang Shirong read the letter in his hands, unable to suppress a smirk. He laughed aloud in his chamber. "I thought he was some kind of mastermind, but it only took a simple scheme for him to fall for it! He’s finally taken the bait!"

He turned to his servant. "Go to the government office immediately. Tell the Field Commissioner to send word to the military. Have that brat dragged back here."

"Yes, sir!" the servant replied.

...

That day, while Zhao Mang was training his men, incorporating the martial arts techniques from his past life to sharpen their abilities, he also made time to teach them to read. It was a necessary step. His original five soldiers had followed him from the new fields, but as his unit grew, he couldn't do everything himself. Cultivating a military foundation was paramount, and literacy was just the beginning of instilling his tactical thinking into his men.

Just as he was contemplating how to further enhance their strength, a soldier he didn't recognize arrived at the camp. "Who is Zhao Mang?" the man shouted. "By order of the Magistrate Xie Bin, you are to be taken to the border camp to stand trial!"

Zhao Mang stopped what he was doing, wondering if his earlier arrangements had finally come to fruition.