Enlisting in the Army

Chen Mo chewed on the dry rations he had bought in town, shuffling forward at a slow pace.

Sixty li was neither particularly far nor particularly near. Without something to eat, he would never make it.

The dry, hard unleavened flatbread went down his stomach, where it was digested into nourishment for his body.

The reason Chen Mo dared to enlist, aside from truly having no road left to take, was that he had something to rely on.

It was just that he could not make use of that reliance right now.

It was a pearl, stored in the dantian within his abdomen, which had crossed into this world along with him.

The pearl was called the Mortal Transformation Pearl, and its purpose was simple: to help people shed their mortal bodies and remake their bones, enhancing their physical strength.

But to shed one's mortal body and remake one's bones, one first needed to accumulate sufficient power of qi and blood.

Chen Mo had been in this world for several months now. He had either been fleeing famine or on the road fleeing famine, and he had scarcely eaten a full meal.

There was simply no way he could have accumulated any surplus qi and blood. Thus, even now, the Mortal Transformation Pearl remained completely empty.

But as long as he enlisted, no matter how bitter it might be, it would still be better than fleeing famine. He would surely be able to slowly build up his qi and blood.

Once he had accumulated enough qi and blood, he could use the Mortal Transformation Pearl to shed his mortal body and remake his bones.

Chen Mo ate half of the remaining unleavened flatbread, then took out the waterskin Zhao Yu had given him earlier and swallowed two mouthfuls of water before continuing onward.

As the sun set at dusk, his shadow stretched long behind him.

He found a withered tree sheltered from the wind and rested for the night, then resumed his journey the next day.

There were quite a few other famine refugees on the official road besides him, clearly all headed to enlist.

Better to live badly than die well. So what if they joined the army? At least they would have food to eat.

Near noon, the blazing sun left his entire body limp and weak. At last, Chen Mo spotted a drooping black banner in the distance.

He could not help quickening his pace as he continued forward.

Several battered wooden tables stood beneath the flagpole. A few soldiers sat idly drinking tea, with three or four famine refugees gathered around them.

"Are you here to enlist too?" a fair, plump soldier asked, looking at Chen Mo.

"Yes." Chen Mo nodded.

Fat White Soldier rose and stretched his limbs, then asked another soldier, "Old Liu, didn't we already recruit enough men?" He then turned his gaze back to Chen Mo and rubbed his fingers together, the meaning obvious.

There were simply too many famine refugees. Soldiers who normally had to forcibly drag men into service or use convicted criminals to fill the ranks had now become hot commodities.

Those soldiers responsible for recruitment could take the opportunity to skim a little off the top as well.

Even if the refugees who had fled here did not have much money on them, they would never pass up even the scraps of meat on a mosquito's leg.

Chen Mo's expression remained calm. Without saying much, he kept rummaging through his clothes.

He could take out quite a bit of money directly, but if he did, they might take him for a fat sheep and fleece him mercilessly.

After searching himself for quite some time, Chen Mo scraped together thirty-eight copper coins and presented them with both hands.

Fat White Soldier accepted the coins with a beaming smile, lined them up on the table, and carefully counted them.

"This isn't quite enough!" Fat White Soldier said with the smile of a Maitreya Buddha.

Having caught a toad, he intended to squeeze even its piss out. Whether Chen Mo had any more money or not, he was going to squeeze him dry a little further.

Chen Mo's face darkened, and he hurriedly shook his head and waved his hands.

"My lord, this is all the money I have on me. I spent the rest on food."

He took out the half-eaten flatbread as well, using it to prove what he had just said.

At once, Fat White Soldier grew somewhat impatient. Shifting into a more comfortable position, he asked, "Speak. What's your name?"

"Chen Mo."

Upon hearing that, Old Liu took out a wooden tag and swiftly carved Chen Mo's name onto it.

"Take your wooden tag and go find Old He in the tent on the left." Fat White Soldier tossed the tag to Chen Mo and pointed toward a tent to one side.

Then, with a grin, he added, "Don't go thinking this military master took a little money for nothing. Rest assured, it won't be wasted on you."

Chen Mo took the wooden tag, passed several refugees who could not enlist because they had no money yet refused to leave, and headed toward the nearby tent.

Inside lay an older veteran with dark skin.

When he saw someone arrive, his expression did not change. He took the wooden tag, glanced at it, and pointed toward another tent.

"Go wait over there."

There were many famine refugees inside the other tent, all sitting on the ground in silence.

After struggling so hard to flee here, they had not yet starved to death, but their lamps were running dry and their oil was spent. None wished to waste strength on unnecessary words.

Chen Mo found an empty spot and sat down, likewise waiting silently without uttering a word.

Who knew how much time had passed before several more famine refugees entered the tent.

Two of them were actually refugees who had been unable to produce any money earlier and could only wait outside. How they had managed to get in, he had no idea.

"You, you, you—you lot, come with me." Fat White Soldier entered the tent with a cold face and waved as he picked out several people.

Chen Mo was among them. He immediately rose and left with the man.

"Don't say I took your money for nothing. You lot pick out your uniforms first." Fat White Soldier led them into another tent.

Inside were many standardized old gray soldier uniforms, exactly like the clothes he wore.

As for armor and weapons, those had nothing to do with disaster victims like them. Being issued a set of soldier's clothes was already not bad.

Chen Mo looked over the uniforms. Most were badly worn, with only a scant few still relatively intact.

Those who picked first could still choose a few decent ones; those who came later could only take torn clothes.

Looking at it this way, he had joined the army fairly early. If more people came later, even if they got to choose first, they probably would not be able to find many good clothes.

Chen Mo picked a relatively intact, clean set that fit his height and held it in his hands without rushing to change.

"Go scrub yourselves clean and change into the uniforms. We'll send you off afterward," Fat White Soldier said.

Naturally, these newly recruited soldiers could not remain here. They would be sent to military camps in various places.

As for whether they would farm, raise livestock, or become household servants tending to some general's family once they arrived, that depended entirely on their luck.

In any case, training had absolutely nothing to do with them. Joining the army was, in truth, not much different from selling themselves into slavery.

Beside the well outside the tent sat seven or eight large wooden basins.

The water inside had been warmed by the sun. In truth, the weather was not particularly cold at the moment.

The disaster victims wore thick clothes mainly because they were too hungry, and so they felt cold.

Chen Mo untied layer after layer of clothing and began carefully washing himself.

There were many people and little water. If he did not seize the chance to wash now, it would be impossible to get clean later.

Besides, the sun was high and there was no wind. Washing now was not too cold; if he waited any longer, that might not be the case.

The other disaster victims followed his example and began carefully scrubbing their own bodies.

By the time they had cleaned themselves, the clear water had already turned into muddy black filth.

Chen Mo also asked for a pair of scissors and trimmed his dry, yellow hair, wild as weeds, trying to make it as neat as possible.

Finally, he changed into the coarse cloth soldier's uniform. Though Chen Mo was still little more than skin and bones, he finally looked somewhat human.

Walking over to the pile of clothes he had taken off earlier, he first put away his flatbread and water pouch, then carefully retrieved his remaining few coins of silver.

From the remaining ragged clothes, he selected three sets that were still relatively intact. Using another torn garment, he carefully tied them into a bundle.

Though these sets of clothing were dirty and foul-smelling, once washed clean, they could still serve as changes of clothes, saving him from having to spend money on more.

The other disaster victims did the same, carefully selecting and storing several garments that still looked passable.

Only after seeing that they had all washed themselves clean did Fat White Soldier lead the other disaster victims in to choose uniforms and wash up.

The disaster victims who came later had no choice but to wear torn soldier's uniforms and wash themselves with the muddy water the others had used.

"I took your money, but don't say I didn't look after you. When you get to the military camp, what you'll do there depends on your own fate." Fat White Soldier came before them again.

Compared with the other disaster victims who were sent straight off to reclaim farmland and plant crops, going to a military camp was somewhat better.

Chen Mo chewed the half flatbread he had left. The resentment he had felt at being squeezed dry had long since dissipated.

The man might be somewhat insatiably greedy, but at least judging by what he had done so far, he took the money and got things done. That was already good enough.

Chen Mo and the others followed behind Fat White Soldier to a large locust tree outside the camp.

In the cool shade beneath the locust tree, Toothless Dark Man sat at ease.

Seeing Chen Mo and the others arrive, he rose and gave them a careful once-over, then complained, "Why are they all disaster victims? Were there no others?"

"If they had any other way out, who the hell would want to join the army? These few are already considered decent," Fat White Soldier replied.

Toothless Dark Man sighed helplessly, then rose and called to them, "Follow me. I'll take you to the military camp."

With that, he hunched over and walked ahead, with Chen Mo close behind.

Over the past two days, Chen Mo had eaten quite a bit, and his body had regained some strength. He no longer needed a stick to walk.

By the time the sun slanted westward, several rows of earthen barracks and a rather broad parade ground appeared before them.

Unlike the recruitment tents from before, this was a genuine military camp.

"They're here?" An old man wearing a patterned cloth jacket, his face furrowed with deep wrinkles, came over and asked.

"That's all of them. Sir, pick first—whichever one you want." Toothless Dark Man spoke respectfully. It seemed the old man held some standing in the military camp.

The old man swept his scrutinizing gaze over them all.

"You, come with me." He pointed at Chen Mo. Compared to the others, Chen Mo was clearly taller and looked younger and sturdier.

"Go on. Feed the horses well for He Ma Guan," Toothless Dark Man said with a wave of his hand.

At those words, the other disaster victims could not help casting envious looks at Chen Mo.

Feeding horses was undoubtedly a good job, because one could secretly eat the fodder.