Chapter Nineteen: We All Have Secrets

“In this way, you can meet the villagers’ demands: you won’t have to risk your life, nor leave your home behind, and you’ll still be able to protect the elderly, women, and children in the village.” Lin Miaomiao spoke directly to Li Yanhe. Upon hearing this, Li Yanhe’s eyes lit up at once. He was so moved that he grabbed Lin Miaomiao like a chick and hugged her tightly.

Lin Miaomiao’s words had sparked a profound inspiration in Li Yanhe. Indeed, by employing different tactics, they could minimize casualties among their soldiers.

“If we use this approach, the fighting strength of the barbarians will be weakened, and our soldiers will be spared the hardship of constant marching back and forth.”

“In this way, all our forces can be concentrated on the battlefield, and we’ll be able to determine victory or defeat against these barbarians once and for all.”

Li Yanhe’s eyes grew brighter as he turned to Lin Miaomiao, “Tell me more—do you have any other ideas or suggestions?”

Lin Miaomiao thought for a moment and replied, “Look, there are always wounded soldiers on the battlefield. Most likely, they’ll have nowhere to go.”

“Or those veteran soldiers—perhaps, through state policies or internal army regulations, they could receive financial support.”

“They can move to these villages and guide the people. These old and wounded veterans, with their experience, can still contribute and continue to live.”

“They possess valuable knowledge of dealing with enemies, which could help villagers escape quickly when needed.”

“Not only should we form a militia of men, but also a militia of women.”

“We can select strong women, aged roughly from fourteen or fifteen up to thirty or forty years old.”

“Organize them for training, so they can efficiently arrange the evacuation of elders and children, followed by other women.”

“The tunnels don’t have to be dug solely by the state. Like building cellars, each household can dig their own, and then connect them from the inside.”

“We should involve professionals from the army to supervise the digging, to prevent accidents. Only after thorough safety checks and ensuring the tunnels are secure should this plan be implemented.”

“In these border villages, every household could dig a cellar for protection, which would allow them to survive in hiding for a considerable time.”

“When the barbarians invade, the militia can organize the villagers to hide in these cellars, or use them to escape.”

As Lin Miaomiao spoke with Li Yanhe, she recalled how her grandfather had told her about tunnel warfare in the past. Even when the enemy was powerful and armed, the militia still managed to drive them out in chaos.

Lin Miaomiao believed that, in this age of cold weapons, victory was still possible. Battles always brought casualties, but with a well-organized militia, the old, weak, and sick might be spared from being taken as slaves by the southern barbarians.

Li Yanhe held Lin Miaomiao, listening and pondering the practicality of these ideas. He was pleased to realize that the policy could be implemented in fifteen cities along the border.

Though there were only three actual border passes, there were fifteen towns in total. Surely, the people in these towns would choose to dig cellars to save their lives.

By sending wounded and elderly soldiers to these villages, the army’s burden would be eased.

These soldiers had no place to go; after years of fighting, their families were lost, and they themselves were old or disabled, unable to return home.

By registering them and assigning them to various villages, they could teach young men, using the tunnel warfare methods Lin Miaomiao had described.

Thus, soldiers fighting on the front lines would not be diverted to deal with small groups of barbarians, and the militia could be trained to signal using different types of smoke in emergencies.

The journey was unusually quiet. Lin Miaomiao was held in Li Yanhe’s arms, and neither spoke. Yet under the faint moonlight, Lin Miaomiao could see a trace of solemnity on Li Yanhe’s chiseled face.

She knew he was weighing the feasibility of the plan. In her previous life, she was not a person renowned for selfless dedication, but she had been taught to respect the old and cherish the young.

Looking at the village, she saw many elderly and infirm with no one to care for them. Even many young men had had to abandon their parents, taking their wives and children and leaving home. The parents, so their children could live better lives, remained without complaint.

In some wealthier households, the elderly refused to burden their children, or died on the road from exhaustion.

They stubbornly guarded the village, their ancestral home. Perhaps this was the spirit of the nation.

Lin Miaomiao wished she could do more for these people; all she could do was share what she knew with Li Yanhe.

She knew he was not an ordinary man, and believed he could realize this plan and even coordinate with the government for effective implementation.

Thus, the two returned to the old couple’s home, each lost in thought. They lit oil lamps and began writing furiously at the table.

Lin Miaomiao recalled the tunnel warfare she’d seen in films and heard about from her militia grandparents, recording every detail on paper.

Meanwhile, Li Yanhe considered how to implement the plan in the fifteen border cities, and how to keep more young people from leaving.

To carry out the plan, weapons would be needed, so he pondered how many militia members were necessary, and what arms the women’s militia should carry.

Lin Miaomiao handed her notes to the thoughtful Li Yanhe, who fell into deep contemplation as he read them.

Suddenly, Li Yanhe became very serious, his gaze sharp as he stared at Lin Miaomiao. She smiled and said, “You’ve noticed, haven’t you? That’s probably the secret.”

She took a sip of water before continuing, “You have your secrets, I have mine. Let’s not ask about each other’s secrets—we can just walk this path together.”

Li Yanhe sighed heavily upon hearing this, “This child is truly clever and precocious.”

Lin Miaomiao, seeing that he didn’t reply, suddenly remembered a scene from a previous life’s movie, where ignorance led people to drown others.

She swallowed nervously, looked at Li Yanhe, and said, “You’re not planning to throw me in a pig cage and drown me, are you?”

Li Yanhe was taken aback, staring at her in confusion, “Why would you end up in a pig cage?”

Lin Miaomiao glanced at him, nodded, and said, “Let me tell you, we don’t even know if we’ll end up together in the future.”

“Life’s journey is long, and we’ll each pursue our own paths. If you find someone you love, tell me—I’ll step aside.”

“I won’t cling to you because of your status, wealth, or power. Rest assured, I, Lin Miaomiao, have integrity.”

She spoke earnestly, and Li Yanhe looked at her before sighing, “Of course I won’t. I’ll look after you for a lifetime.”

“If you find a new path or someone you love, I’ll send you off as your elder brother, and even prepare a generous dowry for you.”

Lin Miaomiao relaxed, placing her papers in his hands and turning to leave.

Li Yanhe enjoyed working with intelligent people—it saved much effort. He studied Lin Miaomiao’s writing.

Her script was delicate, but riddled with errors, which irked his perfectionist nature. As he read, he circled every mistake; by the end, the paper was covered in marks.

Li Yanhe compiled both Lin Miaomiao’s notes and his own ideas into a memorial, outlining the plan and methods, and prepared another copy for Yuan Sihan.

When the Emperor Yongchang and Yuan Sihan read the memorial and letter, both fell into deep thought.

The plan was feasible, but the Emperor knew it would require a large sum from the treasury. After the morning court, he summoned the six ministries to the imperial study.

Meanwhile, Yuan Sihan was at Da’ankou, inquiring about the status of each deputy general, and assigning the elderly and wounded soldiers to nearby villages.

Over these days, Li Yanhe began handling correspondence from all directions. If he wanted to implement the tunnel warfare plan, he needed the imperial edict.

Once the edict was issued, Li Yanhe’s plan could be put into effect, at least bringing a new outlook to the fifteen border cities.

The border region was indeed backward—compared to other cities of the Dayong dynasty, it was poor and undeveloped.

Years of war had ravaged the land, the crops grew poorly, and harvests were rare. The people suffered bitterly.