Chapter 1223

First Volume_Chapter 1223: Rebellion Inducement

The power of roasted meat extends far beyond this!

That night, the Anwu Guard brought back two bandit soldiers, who knelt directly before Qin Feng, weeping with snot and tears, heartbroken beyond measure.

"That bastard Wu Heli forced us to flee deeper into the mountains—had we any choice, who would come to this hellish place to become mountain lords?"

"We dare not oppose His Highness; we were forced by Wu Heli."

"Please, Your Highness, show mercy and spare our lives."

"As soon as we leave this hellhole, my brother and I will lay down our arms and return to farming—we'll never be soldiers again."

As the saying goes, mercy toward an enemy is cruelty toward oneself.

On the battlefield, there is no reconciliation, no magnanimity; once you step onto it, the outcome is only two: life or death.

Thus, despite their wailing and heart-wrenching sobs, the two received not a single ounce of mercy or pity from Qin Feng.

If Qin Feng's men fell into the enemy's hands, they would be tortured until death was preferable.

Qin Feng did not immediately order the eighteen forms of torture—he had already shown them utmost leniency.

"Shut up! It's the middle of the night—you're making everyone irritable."

"I ask, you answer. Say one word more, and I'll cut out your tongue."

Feeling the icy chill radiating from Qin Feng, the two dared not make another sound, heads bowed, not even daring to breathe loudly.

Qin Feng wasted no time, asking directly: "How many men does Wu Heli have left with him?"

The leaner of the two, desperate to survive, dared not hide anything and answered quickly: "About five hundred… maybe?"

Qin Feng raised an eyebrow: "I don't want 'about'—give me an exact number!"

The lean bandit trembled violently, strained to recall, then stammered: "R-Your Majesty, I'm just a lowly soldier—I don't know the exact count."

"A few days ago, my superior said there were five hundred fifty-some. Since then, many have fled or died of illness—even if it's over five hundred, it's not by much."

It was indeed asking too much of a lowly soldier to give an exact troop count.

Yet the number they gave largely matched Qin Feng's own estimate.

These five hundred are Wu Heli's last reserves; though they're nothing but rabble, if they fight, they still pose a serious threat.

Qin Feng dislikes fighting outnumbered—even with absolute superiority in troop quality, if he can fight with more against fewer, he will never unnecessarily increase his own difficulty.

Five hundred is still too many—he must keep reducing Wu Heli's numbers.

They've been in the mountains long enough; trees have sprouted, temperatures are rising. In another half-month, Qilian Mountain will become damp and hot, and epidemics will run rampant—enough to make Wu Heli choke on his own misery.

But…

This method is too slow. Waiting for temperature and humidity to rise alone takes half a month—and even after the bandits fall ill, it takes time for symptoms to appear and for them to drop out of the ranks!

Qin Feng could never afford to waste so much time against Wu Heli.

The terrain reconnaissance along the route was nearly complete; mapping the remaining areas in a short time was impossible—they must station men in the mountains long-term, exploring gradually, to produce a complete map of Qilian Mountain.

Qin Feng immediately changed his plan: he would settle matters with Wu Heli swiftly.

Looking at the two bandit defectors before him, Qin Feng shifted tone, speaking solemnly: "I'll ask you one question: do you want to die or live?"

The two were overjoyed, answering without hesitation: "We want to live!"

Having received their answer, Qin Feng wasted no time: "Is your drinking water distributed individually or centrally managed?"

At this, the two bandits became furious, enraged beyond words.

"That bastard Wu Heli tightly controls every scrap of food and water."

"Each of us gets only three sips a day—one in the morning, one at noon, one at night—just enough to moisten our throats, never enough to quench thirst."

Qin Feng nodded; this matched his own deductions.

Due to severe shortages, Wu Heli had to enforce centralized rationing to keep the Army functioning.

If drinking water were distributed freely to soldiers, it would be gone in days.

Remember, they've been on constant Military Retreat, climbing mountains and crossing ridges—exhausting immense physical energy and water. Without strict conservation, Wu Heli's force would collapse within days.

Because Wu Heli tightly controlled all Materials and Supplies, the defectors had no idea how much water remained.

This was expected: the less soldiers know about their Army's condition, the less likely they are to mutiny.

But in Qin Feng's view, Wu Heli was nearly out of provisions—what little remained could barely sustain them until the next Wu Zi Chu Bei Dian.

Any misstep would be fatal for Wu Heli.

Qin Feng carried no poison and could not directly contaminate the water; moreover, the vital drinking water would be under strict guard—destroying the WaterTanks was impossible.

Qin Feng devised a plan and ordered the two: "Return to your unit and find a way to throw filth into the WaterTanks."

"Feces, urine, anything—so long as it dissolves in the water and cannot be purified by sedimentation."

Qin Feng specifically warned: do not throw in Soft Earth—it's useless, because after half a day of stillness, the earth sinks to the bottom and doesn't affect drinking.

"If you succeed, return to me—I won't just spare your lives, I'll reward each of you with Five taels of silver."

Hearing this, the two were ecstatic; they immediately knelt and banged their heads against the ground like pounding garlic.

The next night, they returned to their unit. Though questioned and suspected, they stuck to their story: they'd simply fallen behind from exhaustion and lost contact with the main force.

With the bandits' spirits crushed and their future bleak, no one paid much attention to these two deserters.

After lying low for a day in the unit, that night they quietly approached the WaterTanks.

Though "strictly guarded," the mountains were pitch-black—no campfires dared be lit, and by the late hours, the guards were fast asleep.

The two reached the WaterTanks without incident, tossed in the pre-prepared cloth strips, then turned and left.

These cloth strips had been soaked in fecal sludge—easy to carry and reeking of filth.

As the strips sank into the water, the last three WaterTanks were all contaminated.

The next morning, the guard assigned to distribute drinking water opened the tank lid—and froze in place.