Chapter 529: The Camp by the River

Following the increasingly clear clues, Shi Dun and Ruan Xiaoqi led their small team, marching day and night toward the Jiangyin military direction.

The closer they got to their destination, the more the surrounding atmosphere changed.

Refugees were still visible on the road, but their faces showed less utter despair and more cautious hope;

Even the occasional scattered soldier squads they encountered were no longer completely lawless; at least when they saw troops with relatively neat uniforms, they would show vigilance rather than pure greed.

That afternoon, after passing through a dense reed marsh, the view suddenly opened up.

A wide great river lay ahead, the water murky, flowing ceaselessly.

And on a gently sloping, slightly elevated spot by the riverbank, a military camp suddenly stood!

From afar, the camp's scale was not large; its fence made of tightly arranged rough-hewn wooden stakes was not sturdy, but it was erected with meticulous precision, horizontal and vertical lines straight.

At the gate, a watchtower rose high, where silhouettes of soldiers on bow guard could be faintly seen.

Most striking were the flags flying above the camp.

One was a tattered but still recognizable standard flag of the False Song army; the other was a somewhat plain solid-color banner, on which a forceful, vigorous "Yue" character was written in dark ink.

That flag snapped in the river wind, exuding an unyielding vigor.

"Found it!"

Ruan Xiaoqi lowered his voice, his tone brimming with uncontainable excitement, pointing at the flag bearing the "Yue" character.

Shi Dun said nothing, merely narrowing his eyes as he observed carefully.

He did not approach immediately, but signaled the team to take cover at the edge of the reed marsh.

As a veteran soldier, he understood the importance of observation.

This observation lasted nearly an hour.

They saw a squad of about fifty soldiers, wearing faded uniforms, carrying spears, running out of the camp to drill along the riverbank.

As they marched, their steps were not perfectly uniform, but each man held his chest straight, gaze fixed ahead, with no whispering.

At the officer's command, the squad halted instantly, changed formation, moving swiftly without hesitation.

Shouts of killing rose, spears thrust forward—movements fierce and standard, carrying the bloody air of the battlefield.

"Fine troops!"

Shi Dun silently praised them.

These soldiers' individual quality might not be top‑notch, but their spirit and strict discipline were far beyond the scattered troops they had seen along the way.

Soon after, another patrol returned, escorting two men with bound hands and dejected looks—likely deserters or troublemakers they had captured.

After the guard officer at the gate verified their identities, he waved them through; the whole process was swift and clean, with no extra questioning or harassment.

They also saw nearby villagers bringing vegetables and firewood to the camp's side gate, negotiating with the guards.

The guards inspected the goods, then took out some copper coins from their pockets, counted them out and handed them to the villagers; after a few words, the villagers bowed and left.

No requisition, no looting—fair trade.

"Military discipline… is actually this strict."

Ruan Xiaoqi also looked somewhat astonished.

Having wandered the jianghu for years and seen countless official troops, he knew extortion and bullying of civilians were almost the norm; such propriety was truly rare.

Shi Dun nodded, his gaze growing more solemn.

"It's not just the discipline."

He said quietly.

"Look at their drill formations—they stress coordination and practical effect, not mere show;"

"The camp's site, with its back to the river, avoids being surrounded and gives a wide view;"

"The placement of sentry posts combines light and dark, showing careful planning;"

"This Commander Yue is no mere brute of courage, but a talent versed in strategy."

The setting sun dyed the river surface a golden‑red.

Thin cooking smoke rose from the camp, accompanied by the faint, rhythmic clack of wooden clappers—the signal for meals and night watch.

The whole camp, in the sunset's afterglow, appeared orderly, stern yet resilient.

Compared with the surrounding desolation and chaos, this place seemed like an island protected by an unseen force.

"Older Brother Shi, what should we do now? Should we just send a visiting card and ask for an audience?" Ruan Xiaoqi said, unable to wait.

Shi Dun shook his head, very cautious.

"No."

"Our identities are sensitive; we are the Northward Aspiration Army, regarded as 'bandits' by the False Song Imperial Court."

"Although Yue Fei is at odds with the court, he ultimately holds an office in the False Song regime."

"To reveal our identities rashly would be too risky."

"If he remains loyal to False Song, he could seize us and present us to the court—then everything would be over."

He pondered for a moment, then made a decision.

"First, we must ascertain their background and confirm their attitude."

"Tonight, I will personally go scout the Yue Family Army's camp."

Ruan Xiaoqi startled:

"You alone? That's too dangerous! I'll go with you!"

Shi Dun waved his hand in refusal:

"More people would only make exposure easier."

"Acting alone is more convenient; I'll just slip into the periphery to observe movements, not penetrate the main force."

"You bring the brothers here to stand by; if anything happens, you can also provide support."

He gazed at the distant camp, its outline growing ever clearer in the twilight, his eyes sharp.

"I must see for myself whether this Yue Pengju is worthy of the lord's such esteem, and whether he is worth my Northward Aspiration army taking the risk to ally with him."

Nightfall gradually enveloped the riverbank.

The Yue family army's camp lit up with scattered lights, like steadfast stars in the darkness.

Shi Dun's silhouette, like a ghost, silently merged into the night, feeling his way toward that patch of starlight.

The real contact is about to begin.