The next day, the heavy snow still showed no sign of stopping. It cut across faces like blades and swords, blurring people's vision.
A man emerged from Meng Family Manor and sped away, unafraid of the wind and snow, heading toward Ji Prefecture.
He was the messenger Meng Zhao had sent to the Meng Family.
He was serious about fighting for military authority. This time, he had to borrow the Meng Family's strength if he hoped to fulfill his ambition.
He believed that once Meng Jizu and Meng Hongdao learned of this, they would not let such a once-in-a-millennium opportunity slip by either.
After all, the will the Meng Family displayed at times truly did not resemble that of loyal ministers and valiant generals.
That same day, Prince Yanping, Lingwu City's lord Beitang Ang, accepted donations from one hundred and seventy-four forces of all sizes. Money and grain piled up like mountains. He opened the granaries to distribute porridge, handed out cotton clothes against the cold, gathered physicians and craftsmen to treat the injured and sick, and ensured an ample supply of herbal ingredients.
In a short time, the various disasters and adverse effects brought by the heavy snow and bitter cold were greatly reduced. Beitang Ang's prestige also soared in the eyes of the people both inside and outside the city.
At the same time, the formation of the Prefectural Army was proceeding in full swing.
The Prefectural Army's camp was chosen on a stretch of flat land beside the mountains in the western district of Lingwu Outer City. The accumulated snow was cleared, the fierce beasts and birds of prey around the mountains were swept away, and a camp was constructed, stretching grandly across ten li of land. It could accommodate fifty thousand troops along with their logistical