Twenty-two, what a nuisance.

"Ding, ding, dang, dang"—accompanied by the rhythmic clanging of horse bells, a carriage slowly rolled through the fortress gate, followed the main road, and pulled up before the entrance of the grand manor.

The house servant driving the carriage set down the step stool. As the curtain was lifted, Father Wei leaped down first, disdaining the use of the stool; it was only for Mother Wei, who descended afterward, that the aid was necessary.

Upon hearing the familiar bells from outside, Wei Guangde knew his parents had returned. Given the late hour, he and his elder brother had been waiting anxiously, ears pricked for any sign of their arrival. Hearing the commotion, both stood up instantly. Wei Guangde followed close behind Wei Wencai as they hurried to the front courtyard, only to find their parents entering with grim expressions.

"Father, Mother," the two brothers called out in unison, then followed them back to the inner courtyard.

Seeing their dark looks, Wei Guangde guessed that the day’s trip had not gone well. While they had already resolved to sell the land—at least securing some silver—it was a measure of last resort. If there had been any other way to resolve their predicament through his uncle, they certainly would not have chosen to sell.

Back in the house, Mother Wei composed herself and instructed Aunt Li to prepare the meal. It was clear, however, that neither Father nor Mother had any appetite, and the heavy atmosphere left both Wei Guangde and Wei Wencai with no desire to eat.

The family of four finished their meal quickly. After having the table cleared, they retreated to the inner room. Seeing the situation, Wei Guangde stepped in to brew tea and serve it himself, as he did not want to call for servants.

Father Wei, feeling parched, took the cup from Wei Guangde and sipped it slowly. He looked at his two sons, struggling to find the words.

"Father, did things not go as planned? If it’s not working out, then so be it—let’s just sell the land. At least we’ll have a thousand taels of silver in hand," Wei Wencai urged. In his view, there was clearly no hope with their uncle, which explained his parents' distress.

"The trouble now is even worse than you imagine," Father Wei said suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Wei Wencai cried out, startled. Could it be that the silver was gone, too? That was the only reason he could fathom for such a pronouncement.

Father Wei remained silent, sighing as he sat there. Mother Wei looked equally despondent, confirming that there was indeed worse news. Wei Guangde sat to the side, his heart pounding, unable to comprehend what could be more troublesome than their current state.

After a long silence, Father Wei finally spoke: "Looking back now, I handled that business last time poorly."

He shook his head and fell silent again.

"Last time? What are you talking about? Father, please, just tell us," Wei Wencai pressed, unable to sit still.

"The matter of mobilizing the troops," Mother Wei answered in his stead.

Wei Guangde was baffled. How had that gone wrong? Hadn't the mobilization been a success? His father had led the largest contingent, fully staffed, and had even secured the most silver. How could that have been a mistake?

"Dammit, I still can't wrap my head around it—how could leading troops like that be a fault?" Father Wei, usually a man of mild temperament, seemed on the verge of an outburst, cursing under his breath.

He began to recount the news he had heard from his brother-in-law. It turned out that the very act of mobilizing those troops had invited disaster.

Father Wei had always followed the ancestral teachings: as an official, one would inevitably skim off the top, but he had always left a margin for the military households under his command in the Bengshan Battalion. He never pushed them to the brink. As a result, the battalion had maintained the scale it had at the founding of the dynasty. While its combat effectiveness had declined, it was at least capable of fielding a force.

The problem lay precisely there. The dynasty had been at peace for so long that the guard system had long since collapsed. Most officers now seized all resources for themselves and ruthlessly exploited the military households, leading to desertion and a critical shortage of manpower in the garrisons.

However, during this emergency mobilization, the Bengshan Battalion had become the only one fully staffed. While this had brought glory at the time, it had also caught the eyes of superiors looking for an opportunity to line their pockets.

In the past, the garrison's military land had already been largely carved up by superiors. But seeing that Father Wei could still support so many men, they concluded he must be holding onto too much land.

According to Wei Guangde's uncle, there were plans afoot to reallocate the land once more. This redistribution would inevitably involve stripping away even more of the remaining land from the battalions—a process they called "resource consolidation"—to raise money to purchase more firearms from the Ministry of War in Nanjing.

The very success Father Wei had worked so hard to maintain had now become a crime, prompting officials above him to carve up the interests of their subordinates yet again.

"Has it been decided by the high command?" Wei Wencai asked, his jaw dropping in shock. Who could have imagined such a despicable situation?

Wei Guangde felt a churning in his gut. This was completely beyond his expectations. He began to re-evaluate the era he had entered; truly, the shameless are invincible.

The garrison land had been carved up once before, and now they wanted to do it again. Did nobody consider that they had only survived this time because the Jiujiang Garrison hadn't been sent to the front lines to face the Tatars? What about next time?

Could their luck really last forever? When they reached the battlefield with battalions severely understaffed, they wouldn't stand a chance. Would losing their heads together be a better outcome?

"Men die for wealth, just as birds die for food," but this was a path to self-destruction.

"How else could it be decided? It’s practically set in stone. Now it’s just a matter of how those lords above will divide the spoils," Father Wei sighed. "My brother-in-law heard this from his father-in-law. The loss is inevitable; we only wait to see how great it will be. After all, his influence in the garrison is limited; he can only protect so much."

Father Wei looked at Wei Wencai. "As for what we discussed yesterday, I spoke to your uncle. His view is that since they dare to demand the land, they are certain of their success. They don't want a scene, so the only way out is to pay the silver and be done with it."

"If that piece of land is gone, and more of our remaining land is taken, I fear people in the battalion will starve this year," Wei Wencai said hesitantly.

"We might scrape through this year; after all, we just received two taels of silver. If we're frugal, we can last half a year. But next year..." Father Wei trailed off, looking dejected.

"And what about the people on the mountain?" Wei Wencai suddenly asked. If the land was to be sold, what would become of the farmers who worked it?