Before long, word spread through the rear courtyard—Zhang Xin had awakened.
Liu Hua, Wang Meng and his mother, along with an elderly physician, all hurried over.
After checking his pulse, the old doctor smiled. "The general's injuries are mostly superficial. Nothing life-threatening. The only concern is a few broken ribs on his left side—it will take time to heal."
"I've already set the bones. I'll prescribe medicine shortly. The commander is young and strong—rest well and take the medicine regularly, and you'll recover."
"Thank you, sir," Zhang Xin said.
He turned to Wang Meng. "Meng, go to the treasury later and bring ten taels of gold for the doctor."
"Yes."
"Absolutely not!" the old doctor waved his hands repeatedly. "The commander fights for the people—how could I accept payment? If I did, I'd be scorned when I return!"
No matter how Zhang Xin insisted, the doctor refused. In the end, Zhang Xin could only thank him sincerely and have Wang Meng escort him out.
—
Once the doctor left, Liu Hua immediately began scolding him.
"In future battles, you are not to charge at the front again. Do you understand?"
Zhang Xin simply smiled and nodded.
Soon after, Wang Meng returned. Zhang Xin ordered him to summon the generals.
"You're injured like this and still holding meetings?" Liu Hua frowned.
Zhang Xin sighed. "General Zhang Bao entrusted the army to me. How can I be careless? We suffered heavy losses—I need to know the extent."
Liu Hua fell silent.
At that moment, Wang Rou entered carrying a tray. "My lord, it's time to eat."
Zhang Xin brightened. "Smells wonderful. A'Rou, your cooking never disappoints."
He finished a bowl of meat porridge and some vegetables with clear appetite.
Afterward, he coaxed Zhang Ning to sleep and chatted briefly with Liu Hua until Wang Meng returned to report that all the generals had gathered.
"Help me up."
Supported by Wang Meng, Zhang Xin made his way to the main hall.
—
Inside, Zhang Niujiao, Zuo Bao, Yang Yi, Hu Cai, and Li Le were already present.
"General, how are you feeling?" they asked as they rose.
"I'm fine. Sit."
Once seated, Zhang Xin turned to Zhang Niujiao. "When did you return?"
"Yesterday afternoon," Zhang Niujiao replied. "Following your orders, I held position at Hunu after rescuing Zuo Bao, and only withdrew once the Wuhuan had fully retreated."
"And Hunu?"
"No further trouble."
Zhang Xin nodded, then asked, "What were our losses?"
Zhang Niujiao's expression darkened. "1,356 dead. 1,179 wounded—over a hundred seriously, more than fifty permanently crippled."
Zhang Xin closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Yang Yi. "Cavalry?"
"Just over a hundred remain."
"And the Xiliang veterans?"
"…Twenty."
Silence filled the hall.
After a long pause, Zhang Xin spoke.
"For every fallen Xiliang soldier, send fifty thousand coins to their families. They followed me thousands of miles north—I will not leave their families destitute."
Yang Yi's eyes reddened. "Thank you, Commander!"
Fifty thousand coins—over thirty years of income for an ordinary household—was an enormous sum.
Zhang Xin continued, though his voice grew heavier.
"As for the rest…"
He hesitated.
Many Yellow Turban soldiers had no families left. Entire communities had already been destroyed in earlier massacres.
"…Hu Cai."
"Here."
"Find a large stone. Carve the names of all who fell in this battle. Then investigate—if any have surviving family, send compensation. If not… record their names for remembrance."
"Yes, General!"
"In addition," Zhang Xin continued, "all surviving soldiers receive one thousand coins. Slightly wounded—three thousand. Seriously wounded—five thousand. Crippled—ten thousand. For every enemy killed—one thousand coins."
He turned to Zhang Niujiao. "For disabled soldiers who can still work, buy them land. Those who cannot—keep them in the army and provide for them."
"Yes."
"Have the dead been buried?"
"Yes—all of them. Ours and theirs alike."
Zhang Xin's eyes reddened. Tears slipped down his face.
"Nearly a third of our army… gone because of my mistake."
"If not for that man cutting down Nanlou… we might all have perished."
"This defeat is my fault. I failed General Zhang Bao…"
"General," Zuo Bao stepped forward, "you've led us this far through countless battles. You're not a god—mistakes happen."
"The fault lies with us as well. Had we been more capable, we could have helped you avoid this."
"Exactly," Zhang Niujiao added. "We killed nearly three thousand Wuhuan, beheaded Nanlou, and seized over two thousand warhorses. By any measure, this is a great victory!"
Hu Cai, Li Le, and Yang Yi all chimed in agreement.
Zhang Xin blinked. "Wait—two thousand warhorses?"
Zhang Niujiao laughed. "Captured during the night raid. Still tied up in the camp."
Yang Yi added, "The Wuhuan fled in panic—they didn't even take them."
Zhang Xin's eyes lit up. He stood abruptly—then winced in pain as his ribs protested.
Wang Meng rushed to steady him.
After catching his breath, Zhang Xin said, "All those horses—Yang Yi, they're yours. Recruit and train as many cavalry as possible. Can you do it?"
"Yes!"
"With veteran riders as your core, it won't be difficult," Zhang Xin said. "All units will send their best men to you for selection."
Zhang Niujiao frowned. "Then what will we do?"
"Recruit," Zhang Xin replied. "The region has just been ravaged—many will be willing to join. Zuo Bao, you handle it."
"How many?"
"Two thousand five hundred. Offer three hundred coins per month."
Zuo Bao nodded. "Understood."
"Li Le, oversee equipment production. Prioritize cavalry gear. Tell Yan Jin—the faster he works, the greater the reward."
"Yes."
After issuing all orders, Zhang Xin's expression suddenly hardened.
"Hu Cai. Li Le."
Both stepped forward, confused. "Yes, General?"
Zhang Xin looked at them coldly.
"Do you know your crime?"