What on earth... is this man's background?
Meng Wu's raspy voice echoed inside the commander's tent, carrying a bone-chilling coldness.
Meng Tian, standing before him, did not answer immediately.
He merely set aside the main battle report in his hand, and from the scout's kit, he retrieved another bamboo scroll wrapped in cowhide with an even tighter seal.
"Father, this is the detailed military merit record personally written by Shi Meng. Inside is... the decapitation count for this battle."
Meng Tian's voice was somewhat dry. He untied the cowhide rope and handed that bamboo scroll to Meng Wu with both hands.
Meng Wu's gaze fell upon the bamboo scroll.
His hand even showed a momentary hesitation.
As the High General of Great Qin, the merit records he had reviewed piled up higher than a person. Every single number upon them represented the fading of a life, and also represented the glory of a Qin soldier.
Yet today, for the very first time, he felt a trace of dread toward a merit record.
He took a deep breath and accepted it.
The bamboo scroll unfurled, and a pungent scent mixing fresh blood with ink assaulted the senses.
Upon it, written neatly in Lesser Seal Script, were the names of every meritorious soldier and their decapitation counts.
"Shi Meng, thirty-three decapitations."
"Sun He, nineteen decapitations."
"Qian Hu, twenty-one decapitations."
Meng Wu's gaze swept swiftly across those familiar or unfamiliar names. He could tell that the soldiers of the Vanguard Camp had erupted with astonishing combat power in this battle.
Finally, his gaze fixed upon the very end of the list.
It was a name separately circled in cinnabar red ink.
"Tiger and Wolf Army Thousand-Man Commander, Wei Zhe."
Meng Wu's lips moved silently as he read this name.
Then, his gaze slowly shifted to the number following the name.
In that instant, this old general who had lived a lifelong military career and was accustomed to mountains of corpses and seas of blood saw his pupils suddenly shrink to the size of needle tips.
What did he see?
"Decapitations... one hundred and ninety-six."
"Additionally, killed the enemy chieftain in battle, Han State High General Bao Yuan, one head."
"Boom!"
Inside Meng Wu's brain, a thunderclap seemed to explode.
One hundred and ninety-six!
Plus Bao Yuan, that made one hundred and ninety-seven!
It was not as though he had never seen fierce warriors; in his own youth, he possessed the valor of a match for ten thousand.
Yet in a pitched battle of tens of thousands, within a single night, to personally sever nearly two hundred enemy heads—which included the enemy state's commander!
What concept was this?
This meant that in the bloody battle of the previous night, this youth named Wei Zhe had killed a man every few dozen breaths on average!
He was not fighting a war.
He was massacring!
"He's gone mad... Has Shi Meng gone mad, or has this old man gone mad?" Meng Wu's fingers turned white from exertion, and the tough bamboo scroll emitted an unbearable groan.
"Father," Meng Tian said from the side, his voice low. "Behind the merit record, there are also the joint thumbprints of the various centurions and military marquises. Several thousand people witnessed it with their own eyes; there is absolutely no falsehood."
Meng Wu did not speak. He merely stared fixedly at that number, his breathing growing heavier and heavier.
He thought of that name in the Qin army, one that was like a god or a demon.
Lord Wu'an, Bai Qi.
That god of killing who had buried four hundred thousand Zhao soldiers alive and left the six states terrified at the mere mention, in his youth, had also been renowned for fierce bravery.
Yet even Lord Wu'an, throughout all his military achievement records, had never possessed such a... such a freakish personal record for slaying generals!
"This brat..." Meng Wu's Adam's apple rolled with difficulty. "He isn't human, he's a monster."
This was the only explanation he could think of.
A bitter smile also appeared on Meng Tian's face.
"Father, do you understand now why Shi Meng said he dared not claim credit?"
"Facing such a battle record, his thirty-three heads truly... cannot be brought out."
Inside the commander's tent, a prolonged dead silence fell.
Only the heavy breathing of the father and son remained.
After a long while, Meng Wu slowly raised his head. His turbid old eyes were bloodshot, and his gaze was complicated to the extreme.
"My Great Qin has twenty ranks of military merit. Ever since Lord Shang's reforms, the iron law has been like a mountain."
As if possessed, he began to mutter to himself.
"Sever one first-class enemy head, rank rises by one. Sever one enemy general's head, rank rises by three."
"Bao Yuan was a High General of Han, ranking equal to our Great Qin High Minister. To slay him, his rank should rise by five grades!"
"One hundred and ninety-six private soldier heads means one hundred and ninety-six ranks..."
His fingers began to tremble uncontrollably in the air as he calculated.
"Gongshi, Shangzao, Zan Niao, Bugeng, Dafu, Guan Daifu, Gong Daifu, Gong Cheng, Fifth Rank Official..."
With every rank he recited, his complexion paled by a fraction.
When he recited the ninth rank, "Fifth Rank Official," he could already barely speak.
For according to the strictest military law calculations, Wei Zhe's merit from this battle was enough to elevate him from a commoner without rank in a single bound straight to being enfeoffed as...
The ninth rank of "Fifth Rank Official"! Or even higher!
Fifth Rank Official!
What kind of concept was that?
That was a height within the Great Qin military that countless commanders, through a lifelong military career and dying on the battlefield, might still fail to reach!
He, Meng Wu, as High General, was currently only at the eighteenth rank of "Dashuzhang." His son Meng Tian, having established military merits repeatedly, was currently only at the tenth rank of "Zuoshuzhang."
A new recruit who had enlisted less than three months ago, after a single battle, was going to stand on equal footing with Meng Tian?
This was no longer a reward.
This was shaking the foundations of the state!
"Father," Meng Tian said, looking at his father's extremely unsightly expression, speaking in a deep voice. "This matter is I'm afraid no longer something we can arbitrate."
"Shi Meng stated in the battle report that he already made a battlefield decision to promote Wei Zhe to an active Thousand-Man Commander, and ordered him to command three thousand troops."
"This is already... the limit of his authority."
Meng Wu slowly closed his eyes and tossed that burning bamboo scroll onto the desk.
He felt that what he was holding in his hand was not a merit record.
Rather, it was a piece of red-hot iron, an iron sheet capable of burning a massive hole right through the entire imperial court of Great Qin.
"To reward, or not to reward? How to reward?"
Meng Wu opened his eyes, his gaze filled with struggle.
"If we reward according to military law, a callow youth overnight matches the rank of dukes and ministers. Above the court, those fat-gorging nobles of the royal lineage will be the first to jump out and object. The old generals in the army who have ground through a lifetime of seniority will also harbor discontent. People's hearts will fall into chaos."
"If we do not reward according to military law, it destroys the state laws passed down by Lord Shang for a hundred years! What does my Great Qin rely on to sweep across the six directions? It relies on this iron law of 'certain rewards for merits, certain punishments for crimes'! Today we can make an exception for one Wei Zhe, and tomorrow we can do it for a second and a third. Once state law is shaken, the destruction of my Great Qin will not be far off!"
The more Meng Wu spoke, the more agitated he became, finally carrying a trace of fear.
He discovered that he had fallen into a dilemma of a dead end.
No matter how he chose, it was wrong.
Meng Tian was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke.
"Father, perhaps there is still one more choice."
"Hmm?"
"This matter is no longer a matter of military merit enfeoffment, but a great affair of state. There is only one person under heaven who can decide great affairs of state."
Meng Tian's gaze looked toward the direction of Xianyang.
Meng Wu's body gave a violent jolt.
He instantly understood his son's meaning.
Indeed.
In this world, there was still someone who did not abide by the rules—or rather, he himself was the rules.
That was the Monarch in Xianyang Palace, the one single-mindedly set on trampling the entire world beneath his feet!
Only he could make a decision sufficient to subvert tradition!
And only he could suppress all the turbulence brought about by this decision!
"You are right."
Meng Wu let out a long breath of stale air, as if shedding a burden of a thousand catties.
"This matter must immediately be reported to the Great King, for the Great King to decide personally!"
He made a prompt decision, harboring not the slightest hesitation half a moment longer.
" Guards!"
A personal guard immediately entered the tent.
"Prepare brush and ink! This old man will draft a letter himself!"
Before you continue