Chen Rong followed the Mongol cavalry at a steady pace, keeping his vehicle in third gear as it rolled across the endless grassland.
The sky gradually darkened, and the cold wind swept across the plains like a silent tide.
The silhouettes of mounted warriors stretched long against the fading light, their banners fluttering weakly in the evening wind.
After nearly two hours of travel, the distant Mongol camp finally came into view.
Fires burned across the open land, glowing like scattered stars fallen upon the earth.
The smell of roasted meat drifted faintly through the air. Guards moved about with torches, and the sound of horses snorting and stamping filled the night.
Genghis Khan reined in his horse and turned toward Chen Rong's vehicle.
"Mr. Chen, we will speak in detail another day," he said calmly. "It grows late. You should return to your camp and rest. I have already ordered roast beef prepared for you."
Before Chen Rong could respond, Genghis Khan had already turned his horse. With a flick of the reins, he rode away toward the central command tent, surrounded by his guards.
Chen Rong watched him disappear into the darkness and shrugged helplessly.
"Our Great Khan truly comes and goes like the wind," he muttered.
He then drove toward his assigned area, carefully parking the vehicle before stepping down and entering his tent.
"Master!"
As soon as Chen Rong entered, Bamuyi hurried forward, smiling broadly.
"The camp just delivered a piece of roast beef. I saved it for you."
"Really?" Chen Rong raised an eyebrow as he sat down on the felt mat. "You didn't secretly eat some, did you?"
Bamuyi scratched his head, grinning.
"I only tasted a little. I had to make sure it wasn't poisoned. If it was, I would rather die first than let harm come to you, Master."
Chen Rong snorted lightly, though the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
"There's no need to worry about poison here. No one would go that far… at least not yet."
He picked up the roast beef and took a bite.
The meat was roasted simply, with only a small amount of salt. It was tough and lacking in flavor, but still warm and filling.
Chen Rong chewed thoughtfully.
Of course, this was a frontline military camp, not a modern kitchen. The fact that he could even eat roast beef was already a luxury.
In the Central Plains, cattle were vital for farming. Slaughtering them casually was forbidden in many places. But on the Mongolian grasslands, there were no such restrictions. Even so, beef remained relatively rare. Mutton was far more common.
Still… this really needs chili powder.
Chen Rong's thoughts began drifting.
If he could grind some chili peppers and add spices, the flavor would improve greatly. Spicy roasted beef would likely impress even Genghis Khan.
More importantly, Chen Rong remembered something else.
In his "Friends of Military and Civilian Talents" resource library, there were numerous recipes—not just household dishes, but also preservation techniques, including canning methods.
In this era, such techniques would be revolutionary.
Military rations that could be stored for long periods would greatly improve campaign logistics.
Chen Rong's mind began working quickly.
Glass containers could be produced. There were already craftsmen from the Western Regions in the Mongol camp who knew how to manufacture glass. That part would not be too difficult.
The main obstacle would be iron lids.
Iron was extremely valuable in this era. Most of it was reserved for weapons or farming tools.
Still…
Chen Rong narrowed his eyes slightly.
He also possessed knowledge of iron-making techniques.
But he quickly calmed himself.
No need to rush.
If he introduced too many changes too quickly, it might raise suspicion—or worse, fear.
Better to proceed step by step.
"What did you usually eat before?" Chen Rong asked while tearing off another piece of beef.
Bamuyi's expression became slightly subdued.
"We slaves used to receive food only once every two days. Most of the time, we survived on leftovers. The Mongols only cared that we did not starve to death."
Chen Rong frowned slightly.
"Leftovers?"
"Yes," Bamuyi nodded. "Sometimes bones. Sometimes rotten fruit. When hunger became unbearable… some people even ate horse dung or sheep dung to fill their stomachs."
Chen Rong paused mid-bite.
He had read about such things in history books, but hearing it directly felt different.
"And craftsmen?" he asked.
"They were treated better," Bamuyi replied. "But not by much."
Chen Rong nodded slowly.
"Well… at least now you follow me. You can eat my leftovers once a day."
He handed Bamuyi a large piece of roast beef.
He couldn't finish all the beef anyway. After all, a modern person's appetite is still much smaller than that of ancient people.
Bamuyi's eyes lit up. He accepted the meat gratefully and began eating with enthusiasm.
"Master, these Mongolian soldiers are not very good at cooking," Bamuyi said between bites. "If you give me raw beef or mutton and some seasonings, I can cook it much better."
"You can cook?" Chen Rong asked, surprised.
"I know a little of everything," Bamuyi replied proudly. "When I worked as an assassin apprentice, we often traveled in the wilderness. If you cannot cook, you starve."
Chen Rong nodded thoughtfully.
This man really was quite versatile.
After finishing his meal, Chen Rong stretched slightly.
"I'm going to sleep. You should rest early as well."
"Master, I will sleep at the entrance and guard you," Bamuyi said, dragging a blanket toward the tent door.
Chen Rong glanced at him but said nothing.
He knew Bamuyi's real reason.
Outside, the hayloft was freezing cold. Sleeping near the tent entrance was far more comfortable.
Chen Rong lay down on the felt bedding. Outside, the wind howled faintly across the grassland.
Before long, he drifted into sleep.
At the same time, inside the central command tent, Genghis Khan sat quietly.
Two figures knelt before him—Ogedei and Tolui.
The atmosphere inside the tent was tense.
"If I had not stopped you today," Genghis Khan said slowly, "would you have killed that man named Chen Rong?"
Tolui lowered his head.
"Father Khan, that man heard many things he should not have heard. I believed it would be safer to eliminate him."
Ogedei also spoke.
"Yes, Father. If he spreads what he heard, it may harm Mongolia."
Genghis Khan's expression darkened.
"Nonsense."
His voice was calm, but filled with authority.
"That man claims to have come from the realm of the gods.
Whether true or not, he possesses real knowledge and extraordinary tools. Such a person cannot be killed lightly."
He paused, then continued.
"And when I spoke those words today, I had my own intentions. What do you understand of such matters?"
Ogedei immediately knelt deeper.
"Father, we were wrong. We should not have acted without understanding your intentions."
Tolui followed suit.
Genghis Khan nodded slightly, but his gaze remained sharp.
"This Han named Chen Rong is different from the others I have encountered. If what he says is true, then he is a first-class talent—no less than Yelu Chucai."
Both sons were slightly startled.
Yelu Chucai was one of the most respected advisers in the Mongol court. To compare Chen Rong to him was no small matter.
"Such a man must be used," Genghis Khan continued. "Not killed."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Do you know why so many capable men serve under me?"
Neither son answered.
"Because I discover their talents," Genghis Khan said calmly.
"A ruler who recognizes talent can govern the world. I have always trusted my judgment. This Chen Rong will be of great use to Mongolia."
He then turned his gaze to Ogedei.
"Ogedei, remember this. In the future, you must treat this Han well. Give him rewards. Give him what he desires. Only then will he remain loyal."
"Yes, Father Khan," Ogedei said respectfully.
Genghis Khan continued.
"And remember—this man claims to be sent by a divine figure. Even if we doubt it, we must still show respect. If we offend such forces… it may bring misfortune upon Mongolia."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Today, I rode in his strange iron vehicle. What I saw… was beyond reason."
The memory clearly left an impression on him.
Ogedei and Tolui exchanged glances.
"We understand, Father Khan. This will not happen again."
Both bowed deeply.
Genghis Khan leaned back, his expression finally relaxing.
In his heart, he had already made a decision.
This man named Chen Rong… would become a crucial piece in Mongolia's future.
And Genghis Khan had never doubted his own judgment.