Ning Chen gave Feng Qizheng a long, flat look. "Go easy on it. There's only so much of the stuff. A normal man gets six or seven thousand shots in a lifetime... Don't be out of powder and rations by the time Miss Yue is willing to marry you." (TL Note: 彈盡糧絕, "ammunition spent and rations gone," is the set phrase for an army at the end of its supplies.)

Feng Qizheng's eyes went wide. "Six or seven thousand? Then I've got a long way to go. I'd better get to the courtesans' quarter more often."

Ning Chen's mouth twitched. He kicked him. "Go pack!"

As soon as Feng Qizheng was packed, the two of them rode for the Dragon Guard's right camp.

At the camp, Ning Chen had the men on the list brought out.

Twelve hundred and some.

They all had one thing in common: broad shoulders, thick waists, built like bulls!

"Do all of you know who I am?"

The twelve hundred–odd soldiers nodded, and went on nodding.

What soldier of the Dragon Guard doesn't know the Prince Who Holds the Realm, with a name like his?

Ning Chen smiled. "Then I won't bother introducing myself... So, do you know why this prince picked you out?"

"Because we're strong!"

one soldier said.

Ning Chen nodded. "That's right! But strength isn't the only reason you were picked. You were picked because you're good enough.

This prince is going to build a modao army, and it will be like this prince's Ning'an Army — nothing will stand in front of it on a battlefield."

The soldiers' eyes burned.

Everyone knew what the Ning'an Army was: an army of tigers and wolves, superbly equipped, brutal in a fight... Every soldier in the Great Xuan wanted into it.

Ning Chen pointed at Feng Qizheng. "This is Feng Qizheng. He's campaigned north and south with this prince and won honors doing it... For the next month, he'll be training you. A month from now, you march out with this prince.

Starting today, your pay is doubled. And there's no limit on your…