Chapter 25: The Morale is Usable

News from the capital reached Zhu Cilang's hands in no time.

Looking at the urgent dispatch sent by Si En, Zhu Cilang complained verbally, yet his eyes and brows were wreathed in smiles. "It seems I've really stirred up a hornet's nest this time! What a grand title of Marshal! That quagmire of Kaifeng is becoming deeper and far more interesting by the day..."

Zhu Cilang had indeed resolved to head toward Kaifeng, a place that everyone else viewed with dread and mortal terror. Yet to Zhu Cilang, it was a land pregnant with golden opportunities.

What the imperial supervisors lacked across the realm was an eye to discover such a treasured land, but they were even more deficient in the capability required to unearth the hidden treasures.

Fortunately, however, Zhu Cilang possessed both. The former he had already mastered; the only thing left to refine now was the latter.

Such capability naturally began with forging a formidable army. And building a strong army required Zhu Cilang to lay a solid foundation and fully digest the fruits of victory from the Battle of Dongming.

At that moment, as Zhu Cilang stepped into a bright, clean room heavy with the scent of blood and quicklime, a chorus of stirred and excited voices erupted.

On a sickbed, a soldier with his right arm hanging limp exclaimed in agitation, "The Imperial Censor has come to see us! The Imperial Censor is here!"

"The Imperial Censor is here?"

"He came to visit us humble foot soldiers?"

In an instant, a flurry of voices rose in animated discussion.

Zhu Cilang gazed at the twenty-square-meter room, crowded with ten wounded soldiers like a communal barracks, and felt a pang of ache in his heart. Such rudimentary medical care was truly pitiful.

Yet, Zhu Cilang clearly had not anticipated that this single gesture of his would move the soldiers to such an inexpressible pitch of emotion.

Listening to the soldiers' incredulous voices, Zhu Cilang said with deep feeling, "That is right, I, Qin Yiming, have come to check on my brothers. You fought valiantly on the battlefield, and you were wounded because of my, Qin Yiming's, orders. As your superior, it is only right that I come to check on all of you!"

"It is Lord Qin Yiming!"

"It is the Imperial Censor!"

"Imperial Censor... I can still fight, I am not crippled. Imperial Censor, can I still remain in the army?"

"I am indeed crippled; I won't be able to fight for the Imperial Censor anymore."

...

Speaking all at once, countless voices crowded into Zhu Cilang's ears.

Hearing these words, a myriad of emotions stirred in Zhu Cilang's heart. He looked at them all and said, "Brothers, you need not worry about any of these matters!"

"To those who can still fight, I, Qin Yiming, welcome you to return to your ranks at any time!"

"To those who are wounded or disabled, I, Qin Yiming, will have your injuries treated. Those who are disabled can return to Linqing, where I will provide for your honorable retirement!"

"I know that some of our brothers can no longer speak with us here. But I, Qin Yiming, have not forgotten them!" Zhu Cilang said in a deep voice, scanning the multitude of gazes fixed upon him. "These men are all of our Linqing Garrison, of our Shandong Command, and they are heroes and martyrs of the Great Ming Empire! I will ensure they depart with honor, and that they leave without any worries for the future. I will personally provide for their wives, children, and aged parents!"

As Zhu Cilang finished speaking, a brief silence settled over the room. Then, a wounded soldier who had lost his left arm and was cradling an urn of ashes in his remaining hand burst into tears...

And a wave of even more impassioned voices rang out.

"The Lord's boundless grace... this subordinate will never forget it to my dying day..."

"This humble one surnamed Niu is not good with words, but I mean only this: my very life belongs to the Lord now!"

"That's right, if the Lord tells us to go east, we shall never go west..."

Smiling, Zhu Cilang offered a few more words of comfort before moving on to the next ward.

After the rebel forces in Dongming County were routed by Zhu Cilang, the traces of rebel activity along both banks of the Yellow River were essentially eradicated. At the same time, Zhu Cilang began deploying forces to Puyang on the northern bank of the Yellow River, transporting grain, provisions, and military supplies, while tackling the issue of wounded soldier care that weighed most heavily on his mind.

Indeed, this matter—so routinely ignored by military commanders of all ranks—had become Zhu Cilang's highest priority during this period.

As the Imperial Censor of the Shandong Command, the Official in Charge of the Salt Tax Bureau, and the de facto commander of the Shandong troops, Zhu Cilang still carved out time every day to personally visit the newly established field hospital, even amidst his crushing daily military and administrative duties.

Here, one could find not only the physicians Zhu Cilang had evacuated and brought along from Dongming and Puyang, but also a batch of doctors he had urgently recruited and conscripted from Linqing.

The silver expended solely on these physicians' monthly stipends amounted to a full three thousand taels.

Zhu Cilang had visited quite frequently by now. The field hospital, which initially put on grand shows filled with empty formalities, had finally grown somewhat accustomed to his presence. Now, they simply had Hu Bo, the chief medical officer of the field hospital, accompany him, with all other superfluous ceremonies stripped away.

Hu Bo was a renowned physician in Linqing City skilled in treating external trauma; even the great aristocratic clans and formidable outlaws of the underworld did not dare show him any disrespect.

As it turned out, persuading Hu Bo to join had involved quite a few twists and turns.

Once Zhu Cilang had finished defeating the rebel forces in Dongming County and stationed his troops on the northern bank, he ordered the fleet to transship military supplies there before continuing east toward Linqing. First, this would send back the severely wounded soldiers who could not be treated in Henan to settle in Linqing. Second, it served to continuously transport military provisions. Third, it was intended to ship back a considerable amount of gold, silver, calligraphy, and paintings captured from the battlefield to supplement military funds, as there was naturally no market to dispose of such items in Henan.

Yet, other effects that Zhu Cilang had never anticipated began to brew the moment the fleet arrived in Linqing.

First... Chang Zhilang, who was in charge of overseeing supplies, suddenly found himself showered with deep affection by the entire Linqing Prefecture yamen. Without exerting much effort, Chang Zhilang discovered that the military provisions and grain he wished to replenish had already been meticulously prepared by Prefect Sheng Zhongquan.

Next, after Chang Zhilang settled over two hundred severely wounded soldiers in the northern part of the city to recuperate and heal, the warmly enthusiastic "Master of Dongshan," Yang Chuan, employed both soft and hard tactics to invite nearly all the prominent trauma physicians in the city right to the doorstep of the Salt Tax Bureau.

As the saying goes, one does not strike a smiling face. After some hesitation, Chang Zhilang accepted these unexpected blessings.

And this... ultimately facilitated the rapid establishment of Zhu Cilang's field hospital.

Coupled with the presence of Zhu Cilang, a modern traveler, who had a heartfelt two-night discussion with Hu Bo—exchanging various pieces of modern medical common sense such as hygiene and cleanliness, bacterial infections, and the use of strong liquor for disinfection to prevent suppuration—Hu Bo, initially skeptical, tested these methods for a few days before impatiently becoming the field hospital's first chief medical officer. Not only that, but Hu Bo also brought along his four most capable disciples.

With the ample military funding personally promised by Zhu Cilang, coupled with a vast number of actual clinical cases to sharpen their experience, this was an irresistible temptation for any medical practitioner.

Moreover, saving lives and healing the wounded was a sacred mission rooted in a physician's benevolent heart, one that could hardly be refused.

After making a round through the wards, inquiring after the welfare of the wounded soldiers, and once again leaving amidst a wave of enthusiastic cheers, Zhu Cilang was pulled aside into a corridor by Hu Bo. After exchanging a few polite pleasantries, the physician began to lament the severe shortage of manpower: "Lord Censor, they say a physician has the heart of a parent. We have traveled thousands of li here to save lives and heal the wounded, and naturally, we are willing to work day and night, regardless of pay or hardship, to rescue these brave men who protect the peace of the realm. Yet now that we are here, no matter how hard we work, even without sleep or rest, we are forced to watch helplessly as many soldiers needlessly perish simply because we lack the manpower to treat them in time!" (To be continued.)