"Whoever dares draw his sword, I'll kill him."
That was a threat, and a vow.
Lu Xingkong had come from the military and spent every day dealing with jaded soldiers and army ruffians. He knew their dispositions and understood their ways of doing things even better. Precisely because he knew the soldiers' hardships, the border generals' difficulties, and the dangers of war, he had stood up time and again to speak and fight for the officers and men.
He gave them provisions, silver, blades and armor—and he also gave them understanding and dignity.
Most importantly, their battle merits were credited to each of them personally. He let everyone see hope and gave everyone room to rise and advance.
They had staked their very lives on it. How could you refuse them even a spark of hope?
Lu Xingkong had also come from a prestigious family in the imperial capital, yet unlike those other sons of powerful clans, he had not gone to the military merely to hold an honorary post, barking orders at the soldiers below to charge and throw their lives away while he drank and amused himself in the main tent. More outrageous still, some young masters had even secretly brought servants, singing girls, and courtesans into the tent for obscene pleasures. When the battle was won, the credit went to their own command. When it was lost, every defeated soldier who returned alive was executed.
After taking control of the military, Lu Xingkong barred the children of the powerful from entering the army to fish for battle merits. They could enter if they wished, but they had to fight and kill with real blades and guns alongside ordinary soldiers, earning their own achievements and the capital for promotion.
Precisely because of this, military discipline became strict, the