Stabilizing the army (1)

Dawn broke over Han Yue's camp like a suffocated breath, carrying a silence heavier than the steel of swords. The purge from the previous night had left invisible scars in the air, and every soldier, every officer, moved cautiously, as if the very ground beneath them could betray them. The morning chill clung to their skin, and the wind whispered through the tents, carrying with it the echo of murmurs spreading like a toxic rumor. Han Yue, however, was not a man to be intimidated by the echoes of his own decisions. He knew that a power vacuum was as dangerous as any enemy army, and he was determined to fill it before the seed of doubt took root in the hearts of his troops.

The solution was clear, though not without risk. He promoted a group of loyal soldiers, mostly young, with more zeal than experience, but possessing something more valuable than any skill: gratitude. These men, whose careers had been carved by Han Yue's hand, owed him everything. To them, the purge had not been an act of cruelty but a necessary display of strength—a lesson in what happens when loyalty wavers.

The appointments took place in the central square of the camp, beneath a leaden sky that seemed to hold its breath. Han Yue appeared with his usual imposing presence, surrounded by his most trusted generals, while the selected soldiers knelt before him. There were no grandiose speeches, no pompous ceremonies—only words as sharp and precise as the edge of a sword.

"Stability is not maintained with empty words, but with action," Han Yue declared, his voice resounding like thunder in the camp's silence. "We need leaders who understand the weight of command. You, who have demonstrated loyalty and bravery, will take the places of those who failed to honor their duty."

The newly appointed officers stood, their faces illuminated by a mixture of pride and fear. Some had witnessed the purge up close, had seen how former officers disappeared into the night, dragged away by the shadow of disloyalty. Now, with their promotions secured, they understood that their fate depended on maintaining unwavering loyalty. One misstep, and they would be swept away like dry leaves in the wind.

On the outskirts of the camp, Luo Wen watched the scene with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp as daggers. Beside him, Yuan Guo maintained his usual composure, though a glint of interest shone in his gaze.

"A clever move," Luo Wen murmured, his voice barely audible. "He doesn't let fear settle for too long. By filling the power vacuum with grateful men, he ensures that loyalty remains firm."

"That's how control is maintained," Yuan Guo replied with a faint smile. "If you let doubt grow, it turns into resentment, and resentment leads to betrayal. Han Yue knows that the best way to prevent this is to replace the disloyal with those who owe him everything."

Luo Wen studied the newly appointed officers intently. There was pride on their faces, yes, but also a shadow of fear. They knew they were there because their predecessors had fallen. They knew that if they failed, their fate would be the same.

"It's a precarious balance," Luo Wen remarked after a moment. "He has ensured that the army sees him as their sole savior, but if these new officers fail or if the soldiers don't respect them, the entire structure will collapse."

"You're right," Yuan Guo admitted. "But Han Yue has another method to reinforce his rule. He's not just promoting officers—he's also making sure the morale of his troops remains stable."

That same afternoon, Han Yue ordered extra rations to be distributed to the soldiers—a calculated act of generosity meant to soothe their restless minds. Additionally, he sent emissaries to nearby villages to bring in fresh supplies. Seeing their leader personally ensure their well-being, many soldiers began to feel relieved. It was an effective distraction: as food filled their stomachs, their minds had less room for suspicion.

Luo Wen walked through the camp alongside Yuan Guo, observing the effects of Han Yue's actions.

"Bread and stability," he said with a hint of irony. "Pacifying an army isn't much different from calming a hungry crowd. If you give them enough to keep them occupied, they'll forget their worries—at least for a while."

"And by the time those worries return," Yuan Guo added, "Han Yue will have already found another way to keep them under control. The key isn't to eliminate discontent but to manage it—to let it flow just enough so it doesn't turn into an uncontrollable explosion."

Luo Wen pondered those words. He observed the soldiers eating, the new officers cautiously issuing orders, and Han Yue's most trusted generals ensuring that discipline remained firm. The purge had been brutal, but effective. Now, in just one day, the army's structure was being restored, though with scars that had yet to heal.

As they walked, Luo Wen noticed a group of soldiers sitting around a fire, sharing stories and laughter. One of them, a young man with a sun-weathered face, looked up and greeted them with a smile.

"What do you think of the new officers?" the soldier asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

Luo Wen stopped, considering his response. "They're young, but they have heart. If Han Yue trusts them, it's because he believes they can do the job."

The soldier nodded, but his smile faded slightly. "I just hope they have more sense than the last ones. I don't want to get caught up in another purge."

"No one does," Yuan Guo replied calmly. "But as long as we follow orders and remain loyal, we won't have to worry about that."

The soldier nodded again, but Luo Wen noticed the shadow of doubt in his eyes. It was an expression he had seen many times in recent days. The purge had left its mark, and it was not something that could be erased easily.

As night fell, Luo Wen and Yuan Guo were summoned to Han Yue's tent. The leader greeted them with his characteristic calculating air.

"I trust my way of handling matters has been to your liking," Han Yue said with a slight smile, though his eyes held no humor.

Luo Wen did not respond immediately. He knew Han Yue wasn't seeking approval but was measuring their reactions. Finally, he responded carefully.

"It's not a matter of liking, but of effectiveness. You've managed to stabilize your army quickly—that's admirable. But fear is a dangerous weapon. It can keep your men in line for now, but if they ever feel they can't trust you, they will seek another alternative."

Han Yue let out a short, dry laugh that didn't reach his eyes.

"Then it will be my job to ensure they never feel the need to look for alternatives."

Luo Wen nodded slowly. He was learning much from Han Yue—not just about military strategy, but about the art of maintaining power. He knew this was no ordinary leader; this was a man willing to make difficult decisions without hesitation. And although he still maintained his loyalty to the Emperor, he couldn't help but wonder if, in the future, he himself would have to make similar choices.

Yuan Guo, for his part, simply observed with his usual inscrutable expression. He knew that Luo Wen was absorbing every detail, every strategy. He knew that this young man, full of ambition, still had much to learn—but he was growing quickly.

Luo Wen understood that the most important battles were not only fought on the battlefield but in the minds of those who wielded power.

That night, as the camp settled into sleep, Luo Wen remained awake, reflecting. In this game of loyalties and betrayals, every move had consequences. And though he still believed in the restoration of the Empire, he began to question an uncomfortable truth: Was stability more important than justice?

For now, he had no answer. But he knew that when the time came, he had to be prepared to make the right decision—even if that decision turned him into someone he never imagined becoming.