Amid the ice and snow, a small squad from the Night’s Watch was riding hard toward the north Beyond the Wall, led by Logan.
Stopping and starting along the way, it took them eight days to relocate Shen Mo’s camp.
No—it would be more accurate to call it a city.
Yet before they could recover from the shock of seeing a city built amid the frozen wastes, what surprised these rangers even more were the cultivated fields where tender green sprouts could already be seen poking through the soil.
“Are those…
Wildlings?” One ranger rubbed his eyes as if unable to believe what he was seeing.
Those blood-drinking, raw-flesh-eating Wildlings were actually swinging hoes and tilling the soil?
No, no, no—Wildlings farming wasn’t even the main point.
The main point was: how on earth were they farming Beyond the Wall?
The frozen soil was so hard that simply having tools wouldn’t allow anyone to dig through it easily.
How were these Wildlings— At the head of the group, Benjen dismounted and walked quickly to the edge of a field sprouting green shoots.
He reached down and scooped up a handful of the upturned black earth.
It was warm?!
In disbelief, Benjen rubbed the black soil between his fingers.
Composed of fine particles, it felt remarkably silky to the touch, almost like powder.
It possessed a soft, rich texture rather than a rough one, with a granular, crumbly structure that broke apart smoothly under light pressure—a far cry from the coarse grit of sandy soil.
Benjen took his canteen from his waist and poured a little fresh water onto the black soil in his palm.
Moistened, it easily bound into a firm ball, yet crumbled gently with a light squeeze.
Without a doubt, this was prime black earth—rich loam that had no business existing in the freezing lands Beyond the Wall.
More astonishing still, this rich soil actually carried warmth.
Benjen looked at the snow-covered forest in the distance, then back at the warm soil in his hand, feeling as though his understanding of the world was crumbling.
“Benjen, something about this place feels very strange.” A ranger rode up, the black horse beneath him producing a crisp clatter on the hard road.
Benjen looked up and noticed that the narrow paths winding through the fields were covered in a layer of white frost.
Only the soil set aside for farming was soft and warm; everywhere else remained the hard permafrost he remembered Beyond the Wall.
“Magic…” Benjen recalled what Logan had said back at Castle Black.
These Cathayans seemed capable of using magic.
If Logan hadn’t been lying, then the matter of the White Walkers might be real as well.
At that thought, Benjen paid no further attention to the Wildling farmers staring at him.
He swung back onto his horse and galloped toward the city puffing white smoke into the sky.
*** Shen Mo was currently watching several cartographers revise the map brought back by the Onyx Crowmen.
At the same time, he calculated in his head that, going by the timeline, the rangers from Castle Black ought to be arriving soon.
“My Lord!” Just as Shen Mo was lost in thought, the door opened.
Shen Mo was no longer conducting business in a grand tent; the old farmers had worked overtime to construct an imposing compound, giving Zhenbei City a brand-new heart.
“Speak.” “Five riders wearing the black have arrived.” “Open the gates and bring them to me.” “As you command!” The reporting soldier turned and left, while Shen Mo instructed the cartographers to take their maps and step down.
Soon, before the tea in Shen Mo’s cup had even turned lukewarm, a soldier from the Guard House Battalion led five rangers into the main hall.
“My Lord, the men have arrived.” “Good.
You may leave.” “Yes, sir!” The Guard House soldier bowed with clasped hands and departed, leaving the disarmed rangers standing in the hall, staring blankly across a table at Shen Mo.
“Sit down.
Guests are welcome here.
Serve them tea.” At those words, several maidservants immediately presented hot tea to the rangers.
The rangers behind Benjen pulled out chairs with some embarrassment and sat down, staring awkwardly at the exquisite ceramic teacups before them, unsure how to proceed.
Benjen examined the delicate lidded cup before picking it up after a moment’s hesitation.
He lifted the lid and took a gentle sip.
A unique aroma bloomed across his palate, bringing warmth back to his cheeks, which had been frozen like blocks of ice by the cold wind.
Benjen felt his spirits lift.
“I’ve only heard of something called ‘tea’ before.
It comes from the far east.” Shen Mo said nothing, merely watching Benjen as he waited for him to continue.
“In books, that place is called Yi Ti, or the Golden Empire.
You call yourselves the Empire of Cathay—a name that likely can’t be found even in the Citadel.” “And?” Shen Mo set down his teacup, a smile on his face.
“Crossing the ocean was not my original intention, but my people are here now.
That is an unalterable fact.” He waved his hand, and the attending maidservants brought forward samples of prepared goods.
“To gain a foothold here, one must find a way to survive.
The Wildlings living on this land have a rough life, and I couldn’t bear to watch them scrabble for food in the snow.” “So I gave them food and found them work to do.
As a result, all the Wildlings nearby flocked here.” “I figured guests ought to be treated as guests, so I couldn’t bring myself to turn them away.” “Consequently, the people surviving under my care aren’t just those who crossed the ocean with me.” “When I put it that way, do you understand?” Shen Mo spoke in ambiguous terms, offering not a single shred of useful information.
Benjen stroked his beard, observing the cautious young man across from him.
He didn’t fall for it.
Having walked all the way through, the development here was completely at odds with what he had just heard.
A fleet that had crossed the ocean could not possibly possess such high morale and vigor.
Aside from the guards near Shen Mo’s residence, the armor worn by the sentries posted elsewhere was as polished and bright as their spirits.
This was not the aura of a merchant convoy that had crossed the seas.
A certain quarter of the city was continuously spewing black smoke into the sky, accompanied by the distant clanking of blacksmiths’ hammers.
This was an army—a disciplined, energetic army.
And they were constantly expanding.
Benjen had no doubt that the Wildlings working in the fields would eventually be turned into armored soldiers wielding sharp blades.
The Wildlings Beyond the Wall were beyond count, and the food shortage that had always kept them in check seemed to have been solved by this stranger.
So, once he possessed a grand army, what would he do?
Benjen felt he had seen through the young man before him, yet how could he possibly stop him?
With only the three thousand men of the Night’s Watch?
Benjen stared at Shen Mo, whose face wore a confident smile that clearly said, *What can you possibly do to me?*