Chapter 40

The Great Ming had always recorded military merit by prioritizing enemy heads, and Jian Lu heads now counted for the greatest reward. Bai Lang had killed men alone on horseback as easily as cutting grass. Thousands of eyes on and below the city walls had seen it clearly. A peerless warrior like him would not have his achievements stolen; sharing a small portion of the credit was only right. Bai Lang himself did not care about that. He was no Ming military officer, and his ability to command troops was basically zero. If he had a unit of his own, its only purpose would probably be to follow him around and help him collect heads.

After Bai Lang returned to the city, the General and Prefect Lord wrote up a battle report, while he searched the bodies of the Qing soldiers he had killed and dragged back for spoils. He did not care much about silver or valuables, and he did not mind that the soldiers who had helped drag the bodies had risked their lives to secretly pick through them for money. He was looking for suitable armor. He was not very good with bows and arrows, either, but the one-picul bows used by the White Banner soldiers felt soft to him. He could snap one just by pulling it.

Bai Lang knew full well how strong he was in this world. He was savoring the feeling of controlling his inner energy and strength as he had just been killing. "Only when I'm killing is there a good chance to make adjustments." As he searched for spoils, he also gently flexed his muscles with his inner energy, and felt that his skill with the twin maces had become a little more fluid and natural.

There were one-handed weapons weighing sixty-four jin, but those were for building strength and honing technique, not for use on the battlefield. Bai Lang wielding such a weapon in battle made him the strongest warrior of his age—and even Prefect Deng, a civil official, knew it. "Here." Prefect Deng's report was not written for the General to fiddle with; it was simply meant for him to read. This was the official conclusion, and the soldiers were not to argue.

Still, the officials praised him. "Truly the Evil Lai of this generation. Even the Hegemon King's valor might not surpass his." The General nodded in agreement. In truth, everyone was satisfied. Holding the city was the foremost achievement, and driving back the real Tartars while taking over a hundred heads counted as extraordinary merit. Everyone present, civil or military, could expect to rise a rank or two. An exceptional promotion was not out of the question, either.

"Over a hundred heads! Since the Eastern Tartars began their incursions, how many have achieved such a tally? Fewer than five, I'd wager." The General sighed as well. "Just for this one battle, Brave warrior Bai has enough merit to become a Garrison Commander or Battalion Commander. In a single battle, he's gone from a commoner to a fifth-rank official of the court." Everyone nodded. They had to protect him, lest his excellence make him a target for envy.

Who would envy him? Well, surely there would be someone.

Bai Lang was pleased, too, because he had found what he wanted: a fine cotton-padded armor worn by a Tartar, in excellent condition and unstained by blood. There was also a suit of iron armor that fit him well; it would be usable after some repairs. "A suit of mountain-pattern armor would be best, but there isn't one." Though some people had secretly picked silver off the corpses, Bai Lang still gathered more than a hundred taels of silver. He did not care for the other valuables, so he gave them all to the Ming soldiers who had dared to pursue the enemy outside the city and helped him drag back the bodies.

The Qing army was also troubled. Their failure to achieve anything beneath Yanzhou's walls had dealt a blow to their morale, especially since they had encountered a monster like this. A heap of Bayala and Ge Bu Xian Chao Ha soldiers had died, and that was what grieved the Qing officers most. None of the men Bai Lang fought had survived with injuries; every one of them had been killed, and they could not even retrieve the bodies. "Let's discuss how we should deal with this warrior among the Ming troops," Abahai said, having no choice but to summon his generals for a council.

Any commander with a sound military mind could see the danger: what if Bai Lang wore two suits of armor, brought several horses, and followed them to launch a night raid? The Qing had no warrior who could stand against such a fierce fighter face-to-face. If he trampled their camp, it would be a nightmare. They decided to send scouts far afield and have them report immediately if they encountered him. They also reckoned that the city of Yanzhou would not let such a warrior leave as he pleased.

By the end of the council, they were back to discussing Bai Lang's prowess. "A warrior like that must wield twin maces at least as thick as duck eggs. Swinging those dozens-of-jin iron clubs one-handed as he charges into battle— even Aobai couldn't do that, could he? And he has this body-hardening skill. Invulnerable to blades and spears, of course it's body-hardening!" Bai Lang had actually guessed wrong. Martial arts and inner energy existed in this world, but few had mastered them. Among the Ming soldiers he had encountered, there were none.

That was only in Yanzhou, though. There should be martial arts experts elsewhere. Bai Lang's strength came from the martial arts he had practiced in his own world; perhaps experts in this world could reach the same level. Still, he had never seen anyone like that on the battlefield.

Now that Qing soldiers had invaded Shandong, the province was in such turmoil that it would be difficult to send a report of their achievements to the court. They would have to wait until the situation became clearer—at least until they understood the Qing army's movements. Bai Lang volunteered at once. "I'm willing to go scout the Tartars' movements. I don't need many; three or five men to accompany me will do. Once we've learned their movements, they can return and report." But the city officials thought it inadvisable. It was better to keep such a fierce warrior close by. What if the Qing army doubled back while he was away?

Although the court's reward had yet to arrive, Prefect Deng and the others had already recommended Bai Lang for the post of Battalion Commander and assigned several Centurions to him. Bai Lang had not even had a chance to ask whether the city had any mountain-pattern armor before Prefect Deng and the General went to the armory and found him a suit. Remarkably, he did not have to bribe anyone first. As luck would have it, they did have one, though it had grown old and needed repairs. They immediately sent the military craftsmen to fix it. The city's wealthy families and other prominent households all urged Bai Lang to stay, and even invited him to meals.

"I've made a rough count. If I accepted every invitation, people would be covering all three of my meals for a month. I'd probably have five or six sweet young ladies lined up for me, too." Bai Lang chuckled. He had no problem accepting dinner invitations, but he would pass on the young ladies. No one had said that the Golden Bell Shield required cultivating virginity, but Bai Lang was only seventeen in truth, and he felt he was not old enough to start enjoying women yet.

Besides, those young ladies did not appeal to him. People of this era considered petite, flat-chested, thin women beautiful, but Bai Lang thought a little more on the chest and hips looked better. And short women were no fun.