Rectifying Military Discipline, Preparing for Joint Action

Ding's boots carved a long trail through the sand. When the leather strap around his ankle snapped, it kicked up a wisp of fine dust. Chen Wuya stood at the edge of the reviewing platform, his gaze not following the figure being dragged away, but resting on the soldiers standing rigidly below. Those faces held shock, fear, and doubt they could not hide.

He turned and walked toward the imperial inspector, keeping his voice low. "I've reviewed the list. Thirteen ringleaders, five who knew and failed to report it. Every other name should be crossed out."

The inspector frowned. "But someone reported that these low-ranking soldiers had privately spoken of 'Central Plains people taking power.' If they are not punished, how will the masses be convinced?"

"Talking is not a crime." Chen Wuya shook his head. "Fear is what breeds chaos. You cut out rotten flesh to save a life, not to chop off the whole arm."

The inspector fell silent for a moment before finally nodding. Bai Zhi was already waiting outside the parade ground, holding a document marked with red circles. Without a word, she held it out to him. Chen Wuya scanned it, confirmed there were no errors, and said softly, "Send it to the royal tent. Tell him—governing an army is like treating an illness. The medicine cannot be too harsh."

Bai Zhi nodded and departed. Wind swept down the camp road, stirring a loose strand of hair over her shoulder.

Less than half an hour later, the royal decree was issued. Only the chief culprits would be punished; the rest would not be pursued. The soldiers involved in the conspiracy were stripped of their armor on the spot and thrown into the prison camp. The others whose names had been listed were returned to their