Chapter 491: - War Accounting

Ji Chengjue returned very late.

So late that Count Pingye had long since finished his evening meal and the Blind Man was already preparing a late-night snack by the time he finally came back.

The moment he entered the residence, he headed straight for the courtyard where Zheng Fan was staying, even breaking his usual iron rule of visiting his son first whenever he came home.

Ji Chengjue dropped himself onto a cushion, braced both hands behind him, and let out a long sigh.

“I’m exhausted.”

Count Pingye did not react.

He kept drinking tea.

The Great Marsh Fragrant Tongue was gone, but Little Sixth’s residence certainly did not lack good things. Count Pingye did not particularly enjoy tea. He simply enjoyed drinking expensive tea.

Ji Chengjue waited.

When Count Pingye failed to offer even a single word of sympathy, he could not help sounding aggrieved.

“Today was already busy enough. We spent the whole day tearing down the east wall to patch the west, and just when we finally got everything more or less sorted out, Father came over. Wonderful. So everyone kept working until now.”

The Ministry of Revenue had to feed the other six ministries above it while below it every disaster-stricken prefecture and county, every regional military commander, was howling for funds. The Great Yan Dynasty’s commitments had expanded enormously, while the Ministry of Revenue constantly had to spend tomorrow’s grain today and bargain with every side for what remained.

The court might be full of men in crimson and purple robes, but when the time came to fight over budget allocations, they could be more shameless than fishwives cursing each other in a marketplace.

“What were you working on?” Count Pingye asked.

“Father wanted war accounting.”

“War accounting?”

War accounting was a term used by the Yan court, a holdover from the way wars had been fought in earlier times. Before a campaign, the emperor and the great clans would sit down together and calculate grain, supplies, weapons, troops, and everything else needed for the war. Once they had worked out a plan, the army would march.

Put simply, everyone got together and calculated how much money, grain, and manpower a war would cost.

Ji Chengjue knew what Zheng Fan was about to ask.

“Father didn’t say where he wants to fight. He only told us to run the numbers.”

“Oh? And what did you come up with?”

“Obviously, nothing. Maintaining the mess we already have is difficult enough. Where are we supposed to find spare money and grain for another war? And I’m not talking about some little skirmish.”

The small cavalry clashes between the First Prince and Zhong Tianlang around Nanwang City could only be called children playing house.

Unless more than twenty thousand troops were mobilized and the deployment lasted longer than a month, it did not even rise to a scale worthy of Emperor Yan’s attention.

“In truth, if His Majesty wants to fight, we can fight,” Count Pingye said, still drinking his tea.

Ji Chengjue smiled. “We’re the Great Yan Dynasty, not Great Yan Bandit Stronghold. We can’t wager the entire household on every single fight, can we?”

As Zheng Fan had said, they could fight.

The court was already spending tomorrow’s grain today. If war had to begin, then collect four or five years of taxes in advance. Levy military supplies directly from forts and fortified estates and from merchants. Force towns and villages to provide labor beyond legal limits.

In other words, mortgage the entire future of Great Yan and force through one more gamble.

Yan had actually used this method before.

The moment the cavalry purge of the great clans ended, the Marquis of Zhenbei had no time to carefully clean up the aftermath. He immediately transferred his troops back to Yinlang Commandery, joined forces with the Marquis of Jingnan, and launched the campaigns against Qian and Jin.

The Qian front reached all the way to the walls of Shangjing City.

The Jin front directly shattered more than half the State of Jin.

Then, relying on the overwhelming prestige created by those brilliant victories abroad, Emperor Yan had suppressed the court above while comforting the common people below. The victories allowed the people to temporarily ignore the decline in their living standards.

Ji Chengjue, however, was fundamentally a “merchant.”

Merchants possessed two basic instincts.

One was to preserve their principal. The principal was what allowed them to rise again after a setback.

The other was stability. Stability allowed income and growth to continue.

People who constantly wagered their entire fortune and life on a single throw in hopes of overturning their fate had, in essence, never truly ceased being barefoot men with nothing to lose.

“I’m afraid Father really intends to do exactly that.”

“If His Majesty wants to do it, then let him. Can you stop him?” Count Pingye teased. “What, is Ji Chengjue going to lead a host of ministers to kneel outside the palace gates and petition him? That doesn’t sound like something Old Sixth Ji would do.”

“My surname is Ji. I’m a Yan man.”

Zheng Fan placed a hand solemnly over his chest.

“So am I.”

“The Great Yan Dynasty could afford to steady itself for a while,” Ji Chengjue said.

“That’s your view. You think you’re capable, so naturally you hope that once you sit in that position, you’ll be able to make the situation better than it is now. Hell, maybe you even have a little selfishness in there. If His Majesty finishes everything himself and you finally sit down on that throne only to discover there’s nothing left for you to do, wouldn’t that be terribly boring? Among countless millions of living souls, how many people ever get the chance to sit in that position? If Heaven blesses you enough to put you there, surely you ought to do something worthy of being remembered in the histories. At the very least, leave a few stories for later generations. But His Majesty won’t think from your perspective. He finally crushed the great clans beneath cavalry hooves and gathered power into his own hands. Now that he has the chance, do you really think he can bear not to sweep across the whole East in one stroke and unite all the Xia lands? After exhausting himself for half a lifetime, is he supposed to have done all of that just to make wedding clothes for somebody else? Even if that somebody else is his own son.”

Ji Chengjue narrowed his eyes and looked at Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan continued, “Admittedly, most parents in this world are willing to give everything to their children: their wealth, the savings of half a lifetime, even their own lives. But how should I put it? I’m not that kind of parent.”

“You don’t have children.”

“No. I think even after I have children, I still won’t...”

“Say that after you actually have one.”

“Are you going to let me speak or not? We finally meet once every two or three years. What, do I have to go home, produce a child first, then come back before I’m qualified to continue this conversation?”

“Fine, fine. Go on.”

Ji Chengjue hurriedly yielded.

For a very long time, he had thought Zheng Fan lived an extraordinarily free life.

And he seemed almost omnipotent.

He knew how to wage war.

He knew how to deal with people.

He knew how to govern the common folk.

He knew how to compose poetry.

Across all the ages, mastering any one of those talents could leave your name in history. Mastering two would already make you a true talent of both civil and military affairs, worthy of a heavy stroke in the historical record.

But on this matter, Ji Chengjue believed Zheng Fan was wrong.

Before having a child, he himself had thought exactly as Zheng Fan did.

But the moment his wife became pregnant—more precisely, the instant he knew she was carrying his child—his thinking changed completely.

Why had the Marquis of Jingnan entrusted his son to Zheng Fan?

In truth, with the Marquis of Jingnan’s present position and prestige, if he wanted to keep his son beside him, who could stop him?

Who would dare stop him?

Who even possessed the qualifications to stop him?

Only after becoming a father had Ji Chengjue begun to understand some of the deeper meaning behind the Marquis of Jingnan’s decision.

Count Pingye, meanwhile, was still talking.

“Why should everything go to the child? Everyone only gets one life. That’s it. One lifetime. You can’t spend it treating yourself badly, can you?”

Ji Chengjue nodded.

“Yes, yes.”

“You’re being perfunctory.”

“No.”

“You are.”

“Fine. I am.”

Count Pingye reached over and patted Ji Chengjue on the shoulder.

“Actually, that’s only one reason. If this truly came down entirely to His Majesty’s private ambition, then you, Old Sixth Ji, really could lead the ministers to kneel outside the palace gates and beg him not to exhaust the people with endless war. If you’re afraid to lead it yourself, heh, let the Crown Prince take the lead. Every one of you brothers can go together. His Majesty can hardly stew all of his sons in one pot.”

“Oh? I’m listening.”

“You’re not in the army. There’s always a layer between you and military affairs, so there are things you simply can’t see clearly. His Majesty wants to move early and finish the job while he’s still on the throne partly because His Majesty understands that if one day he’s no longer here...”

“I’m confident I can still stabilize the situation,” Ji Chengjue interrupted.

“I believe you. I believe in your ability. Otherwise I wouldn’t be staying in your house. If you didn’t have the ability, I’d have squeezed every last benefit out of you long ago and cut ties.”

“That is remarkably naked.”

“Between brothers, we call it honesty.”

“Fine. Keep going.”

“I believe you can stabilize the situation. But that’s all: stabilize it. To say something unpleasant, while His Majesty lives, the Marquis of Zhenbei and the Marquis of Jingnan will forever stand behind him. Just like years ago inside the imperial palace: His Majesty in front, the two Marquises behind him, and behind them thousands of iron cavalry from both armies. But if His Majesty is gone, who can still command those two? And I’m not talking about ordinary military orders. His Majesty says the court is taking local administrative authority back, and the Marquis of Jingnan doesn’t react at all. He simply accepts it and cooperates. If you were sitting in that chair, do you think the Marquis of Jingnan would give you that much face? Besides, Great Yan was fortunate enough to produce two Marquises at once, with brilliant generals blazing across the age. If we don’t use the army now and finish the wars that need to be fought, Heaven knows whether another generation of commanders this close to undefeated will ever appear. And then there’s the most important point. I’ll use myself as an example. If all three of those men were gone, and the person sitting on the dragon throne was either the Crown Prince or you, Ji Chengjue, do you know the first thing I, Count Pingye, would do?”

“What would you do?”

“The moment I heard the thrilling news of your ascension, I’d be delighted. That very night, the Snow Sea Cavalry would ride out and directly take control of the surrounding region, expanding my territory from a single point into an entire surface. Every nearby city would have to accept my garrisons and obey my orders. Then I would submit a memorial to the throne declaring my absolute loyalty to you. And I can guarantee you that almost every regional military commander would do the same.”

“What if, before that happens, the Marquis of Jingnan transfers most of the Jingnan Army to you and completes the handover?”

Count Pingye chuckled.

“Then you die even faster.”

Ji Chengjue rolled his eyes at Zheng Fan.

“The great clans actually weren’t the most frightening thing. Even when the Marquis of Zhenbei and His Majesty were putting on that show and the Zhenbei Army might have marched east at any moment, what did the great clans want? At most, they wanted His Majesty to make some concessions and enfeoff the two Marquises of north and south as Princes. They never intended to overthrow your Ji Clan. But once regional military commanders become too powerful, the situation rapidly turns into military fiefdoms and warlord separatism. At that point, the Son of Heaven truly does belong to whoever has the strongest soldiers and horses. And there’s something else. Qian is training new armies. The Regent of Chu is suppressing the noble clans and steadily centralizing power. The national strength of Qian and Chu—more precisely, the strength they can actually use in foreign wars—is increasing every day. Meanwhile, Great Yan may appear to have swallowed the Three Jin lands, but we have no way to mobilize Jin’s strength to reinforce our own. On my journey here, every regional garrison contained Jin troops, but those troops were being watched more than they were being used. On a battlefield, if you even have to guard against the comrades standing beside you, there’s no point fighting the battle at all.”

“Old Zheng, what exactly are you trying to tell me?”

Count Pingye leaned back slightly and pointed at Ji Chengjue.

“Who was the one who started preparing me for this conversation? If I’m guessing correctly, His Majesty already knew the war accounting wouldn’t produce a result. You, Old Sixth, and the Ministry of Revenue can’t conjure grain, money, and laborers out of thin air. So in the end, His Majesty must have had you pass along an oral decree.”

“Attendant Zhang once said that if you entered the palace, Wei Zhonghe might have to step aside.”

Ji Chengjue considered himself capable of reading the imperial will because he was the Emperor’s son.

But Zheng Fan was not some long-lost brother of his.

Even so, he could do it just as flawlessly.

“If I entered the palace, I’d definitely find a way to drag you in with me. Then the two of us could go guard the imperial mausoleum together.”

“Father’s oral decree...”

“This subject, Zheng Fan, respectfully inquires after His Majesty’s health.”

“Look at you.”

“Procedure.”

“There are no Secret Intelligence Department people in my residence. After I moved out of the Princes’ Residence, Wei Zhonghe didn’t plant his people here.”

“Fine.”

Count Pingye nodded.

In truth, he had never intended to stand up in the first place.

“Father orders you to enter the palace tomorrow after morning court and attend the Imperial Study to advise on military affairs.”

“Knew it. So all that just now was you giving me advance inoculation?”

“Yet from the way you’re talking, it sounds like you actually support going to war sooner.”

“I’m a military general. If I don’t like war, what am I supposed to do, sing hymns to peace?”

“But Great Yan...”

“You won’t out-stubborn His Majesty.” Zheng Fan’s tone was serious.

“I’ll adapt to circumstances.”

“Exactly. You should have done that from the start. Don’t carry so much weight on yourself.”

“You’re coming to morning court with me tomorrow.”

“I have to go too?”

“You can wait in a side hall.”

“Fine.”

“All right. Did you go out today?”

“I did.”

“Where?”

“Lakeheart Pavilion.”

“You really went to see Third Brother?”

“Of course. Better to resolve a feud than deepen one. Before, I wasn’t in Yanjing, so it didn’t matter. Now that I’m here, some matters ought to be brought to a close. Going to Lakeheart Pavilion to see Third Highness at least shows outsiders that I, Zheng Fan, still understand the rules. At the very least, His Majesty can see that I possess a proper sense of awe. It lets everyone preserve face.”

“What did Third Brother talk to you about?”

...

“Your Majesty, they didn’t talk about anything.”

“Mm?”

“After Third Highness frightened Count Pingye with a paper crossbow, he did explain himself, but Count Pingye then went to the far end of Lakeheart Pavilion’s covered walkway and sat down.”

“He sat down?”

“Third Highness tried to move closer to him, but every time Third Highness moved forward, Count Pingye retreated by the same amount. In the end, Third Highness could do nothing. The two of them sat at opposite ends of the long walkway for two hours without speaking again.”

“This Zheng Fan. On the battlefield, he loves dangerous and unexpected moves. In ordinary life, he cherishes his body to this extent.”

“Your Majesty, perhaps this is what it means to preserve a useful life. As the saying goes, the son of a wealthy house does not sit beneath a dangerous eave.”

Emperor Yan nodded.

“Has Li Liangshen entered the city?”

“Answering Your Majesty, Commander Li remains with the army camp outside the city.”

“Pass down my decree. Say that my mind and spirit have been unsettled these past days. Order Qian-girl to copy the Heart Sutra three hundred times to calm my spirit.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Wei Zhonghe understood.

His Majesty was really telling the Commandery Princess to settle down.

It was a warning and a disguised confinement.

The Commandery Princess had returned to Yanjing unconscious. The official explanation said she had encountered some strange spirit in the Tianduan Mountains, but the location had simply been too close to Snow Sea Pass.

No matter what had actually happened, at this particular moment His Majesty would not allow anything to happen to Count Pingye.

At other times, a little trouble could be tolerated.

At this crucial juncture, His Majesty did not want fresh chaos erupting in Yanjing.

“Cough... cough...”

Emperor Yan began coughing again.

Wei Zhonghe immediately took out a silk handkerchief, only for Emperor Yan to shove it aside.

“Cough... cough...”

This time the fit was clearly worse than before.

By the time it ended, blood was hanging from Emperor Yan’s chin.

“Your Majesty...”

Wei Zhonghe immediately dropped to his knees and wiped it away.

“Wei Zhonghe.”

“This slave is here.”

“Tell me. How much longer can this body of mine hold out?”

“Your Majesty will surely live to a hundred years, blessed with fortune and longevity...”

“Cough...”

Seeing anger rise in Emperor Yan, threatening to provoke another violent fit, Wei Zhonghe immediately changed course.

“Your Majesty, this slave truly does not know. This slave’s cultivation is far inferior to the Grand Elder’s. If the Grand Elder were still here, and if he could personally brew medicinal pills for Your Majesty, Your Majesty’s body would never have reached this state.”

“In truth, the pills stopped having much effect two years ago. The Grand Elder already forced another two years of life into me. But it still isn’t enough.”

“Your Majesty...”

Among the common people, rumors had long circulated that the Grand Elder of the palace had dissolved himself in death on Tianhu Mountain, merging his own fortune and the mountain’s fortune into the Yan Cauldron to replenish what Master Cang had consumed when he severed the dragon vein.

But His Majesty had never spoken of it that way.

“These past days, I keep dreaming at night. Strangely enough, I dream of the day Master Cang severed Great Yan’s dragon vein before my eyes. That dragon... it feels as though it were my own body.”

“Your Majesty...”

Emperor Yan leaned back into the dragon throne and turned his face toward Wei Zhonghe, who was kneeling beside him.

“But I still refuse to believe it. Because if I believed it, then Master Cang would have gotten exactly what he wanted. Qi Refiners. Qi Refiners. Surveying Heaven’s mandate, divining fortune and calamity. In the end, it is nothing more than the old trick of deceiving those above and fooling those below. Ordinary women and children being deceived is understandable. But am I some woman or child?”

“Your Majesty is wise and divinely martial. Naturally, you could never be deceived.”

“Everyone grows old. Everyone dies. Master Cang severing the dragon vein merely planted a heart demon inside me. So when my body begins to fail, I start letting my thoughts run wild.”

“Yes. It must be exactly so.”

“I do not believe in fate. My fate can be decided by no one but me.”

Emperor Yan waved a hand.

“I’ll sleep here tonight.”

There was a side hall beside the Imperial Study where His Majesty could rest after handling state affairs.

“Yes. This slave will attend Your Majesty to bed.”

Wei Zhonghe carefully supported Emperor Yan into the side hall. Only after settling His Majesty into bed did he quietly withdraw.

He had barely stepped outside when a red-robed senior eunuch approached to report.

“Attendant Lady Ding has died of illness.”

Wei Zhonghe nodded.

The senior eunuch continued, “That object... this subordinate was preparing to...”

Wei Zhonghe’s gaze hardened immediately.

“What? You want to investigate it thoroughly, report everything to His Majesty, and earn yourself a reward for diligent service?”

“This subordinate would not dare! This subordinate would not dare!”

“This matter ends here. It is not to be mentioned again. Useless fool. You have no sense at all.”

“Yes. This subordinate understands. This subordinate understands.”

Wei Zhonghe watched the senior eunuch leave in disgrace, shook his head, inspected the area around His Majesty’s sleeping quarters, then returned to his own room.

During the day, Wei Zhonghe rarely left Emperor Yan’s side.

But when His Majesty slept, even Wei Zhonghe would return to his own quarters to rest.

A man was not made of iron.

Inside his room, Wei Zhonghe reached out and opened the box on the table.

He looked at the Horn Gentleman lying inside.

In truth, objects like this were extremely common in the palace.

Eunuchs used them.

Palace maids used them.

Even neglected imperial consorts sometimes hid one away for private use.

There was nothing particularly strange about using one.

Attendant Lady Ding had simply suffered an absurd coincidence and happened to strike His Majesty at the worst possible moment.

Exactly.

If she had wanted to use it, she could have waited until the dead of night, lain down in bed, and quietly taken care of herself.

Instead she had to light a lamp and take the damned thing out for inspection at precisely that moment.

Wei Zhonghe picked it up.

His fingernail lightly scraped across its surface several times.

“Tsk, tsk. Fine mountainwood from the Tianduan Mountains.”

Grand Eunuch Wei walked over to the bookcase in his room.

It contained many compartments, each stacked with books.

But the books were hollowed out.

And inside every hollow rested a Gentleman.

There were nearly a hundred of them in all.

They were Wei Zhonghe’s personal collection.

That was why he had recognized the material and place of origin at a glance.

Fine wood from the Tianduan Mountains of Jin was exceptionally well suited for making Gentlemen.

The whole affair was already unpleasant enough that His Majesty would certainly never want to hear another word about it.

Especially since it might even implicate Count Pingye.

And right now, His Majesty did not want anything implicating Count Pingye.

“Aiyo, Count Pingye. This time you owe this old servant a favor.”

With that, Wei Zhonghe placed the new Gentleman into an empty compartment.

He clapped his hands.

Then he looked at the bookcase filled with his collection and smiled in satisfaction.

Some people loved collecting paintings and calligraphy.

Some collected swords.

Some collected bows and crossbows.

Really, collecting whatever one happened to like was perfectly normal.

Wei Zhonghe had never once thought there was anything wrong with his own collecting habit.

If anything, he felt his collection was rather more grounded in ordinary life than those of all the supposedly serious connoisseurs.

Then Grand Eunuch Wei flicked his horsetail whisk, sat cross-legged before the entire shelf of Gentlemen, and slowly entered meditation.

...

Count Pingye had gone to sleep rather late the night before because he had been waiting for the Commandery Princess.

Contrary to expectations, she never came.

Early the next morning, Ji Chengjue woke Count Pingye.

After washing, dressing, and putting on his armor, Count Pingye appeared in the courtyard with his eyes closed, looking as though he were sleeping on his feet.

Ji Chengjue came out, grabbed him, and the two boarded the carriage together.

Eunuch Zhang was driving as usual.

The Sword Saint did not come this time.

The security around Old Sixth Ji’s court carriage was extremely tight.

After the experience of receiving the Commandery Princess’s “greetings” on his wedding night, Old Sixth had poured a great deal of effort into his personal security.

“Here. Have a flatbread.”

Ji Chengjue handed Zheng Fan one.

Normally, on mornings when he attended court, Old Sixth ate something simple inside the carriage. After morning court ended, someone from the residence would immediately deliver another meal to the Ministry of Revenue.

Count Pingye numbly gnawed on the flatbread.

Marching and fighting were one thing.

Being dragged out of bed at some ungodly hour every day was another.

He genuinely was not used to it.

“Not used to morning court?”

Count Pingye nodded.

It reminded him of getting up for middle school.

In truth, Ji Chengjue’s residence was close to the imperial palace, so he had it easier than plenty of other officials attending court.

He could even sleep a little longer.

The streets outside were already beginning to fill with people.

Ji Chengjue lifted the carriage curtain and let the noise drift inside.

“Every morning when I go to court and look at all the people crowding these streets, it gives me a very strange feeling. Great Yan is not my Ji Clan’s dragon throne. Great Yan is them.”

“Motivational chicken soup this early is a bit rich.”

“They need time to recover.”

“But if the weapons sit unused too long, they’ll rust. There’s another saying: strike while the iron is hot.”

“So you really have your mind set on war?”

“It’s not that I have my mind set on it. His Majesty summoned me. He already knows exactly what he hopes to hear from my mouth.”

“Father never sent you any private edict.”

“If I, a fucking military general, dared tell His Majesty we shouldn’t fight, it would be like a wolf deciding to become vegetarian. Yesterday I said you could take the officials and drag the Crown Prince and all your brothers to kneel outside the palace gates. But you don’t want to do that, because you know perfectly well how serious the consequences would be. I’m the same, except the consequences for me would be even worse.”

“You weren’t this determined yesterday.”

“I thought it over again last night. Finally figured it out.”

Count Pingye drank some water to wash down the flatbread, then continued.

“And that melodramatic streak of yours? Time to get rid of it. His Majesty is your own father. Making your old man happy is the natural duty of a son.”

“That sounds rather strange.”

“You know what I mean. Stop thinking so much. It doesn’t help.”

“As a member of the Ji Clan, I only...”

“People who think like that usually end up dying magnificently tragic deaths. Do you want to die magnificently?”

“No.”

“Then do what you’re supposed to do and stop fighting His Majesty. Seriously.”

The carriage stopped outside the palace gates.

Ji Chengjue joined the civil and military officials heading into court.

Count Pingye, meanwhile, was led by a palace attendant to a side chamber outside the Imperial Study.

He had barely sat down when a young eunuch with freckles on his face eagerly came over.

“Count, would you like some breakfast?”

The treatment was this good?

The young eunuch hurriedly explained, “Grand Eunuch Wei ordered it in advance. His Majesty and the ministers will also eat here after court.”

“Do you have noodles?”

“We do. One order is all it takes.”

“Then thank you.”

Count Pingye took out two gold melon seeds and pressed them into the young eunuch’s hand.

“Aiyo! This servant thanks the Count for the reward.”

Before long, a bowl of noodles arrived.

To Count Pingye’s surprise, they were plain vegetarian noodles.

He sighed inwardly at how expensive the palace’s catering apparently was, but ate them anyway.

At least they tasted better than the flatbread in Old Sixth’s carriage.

After drinking down the broth as well, Count Pingye finally shook off the fog of being dragged awake too early.

He rose.

Then he walked from the side chamber into the Imperial Study itself.

The two rooms were right beside each other.

A brand-new map hung on the wall of the Imperial Study.

It marked Yan, Qian, Jin, and Chu, along with the patchwork of smaller states lying between the Four Great States.

Clearly, once morning court ended, His Majesty would bring the important ministers back here to discuss the direction of the next campaign.

Count Pingye clasped his hands behind his back and looked at the great map of Yan and Qian.

He knew that beneath his boots lay the stone floor of the Imperial Study.

The center of power of the Great Yan Dynasty.

From this place, an order could send the Marquis of Zhenbei marching into the desert.

An order could make the Marquis of Jingnan go to war.

The common people of Yan and the Three Jin lands would become the links driving the wheels of war forward.

Countless stores of manpower and material would be mobilized to serve the will expressed from this room.

This was power.

Supreme power.

Count Pingye, who had just eaten a bowl of plain noodles, suddenly felt a little dazed.

Before his eyes, he almost seemed to see sabers and horses flashing across a battlefield, and endless columns of laborers stretching beyond the horizon.

Ji Chengjue had tried twice to persuade Zheng Fan.

Zheng Fan had refused him twice.

When His Majesty asked for his opinion later, Zheng Fan was already prepared to argue that the next war should begin as soon as possible.

Whether the common people had time to recover, Count Pingye did not care.

His eyesight was poor.

All he could see was the little patch of land beneath Snow Sea Pass.

Whether the people of Yan and the Three Jin lands would be exhausted by war, whether “when dynasties rise, the people suffer; when dynasties fall, the people suffer”— none of it moved him.

More precisely, from the standpoint of Snow Sea Pass, continuing to farm and develop right now was actually the most correct choice.

Build high walls.

Stockpile grain.

Keep his head down and honestly work through a Five-Year Plan.

Clean up the snowfields to the north.

Consolidate the territory surrounding his base.

Then even if something happened in Yanjing later, whether Old Sixth Ji actually took the throne or not, Zheng Fan would still be able to sit securely where he was.

And yet he still wanted war to begin sooner.

His Majesty’s health was poor.

Zheng Fan did not know the exact details, but the man was clearly not destined to enjoy a peaceful old age.

The Marquis of Zhenbei had suffered injuries when he was young and could no longer practice martial arts.

His health was poor too.

Those two men had, in truth, been racing against time for years.

Counting every day.

Trying to borrow a little more life from Heaven so they could finish the ambitions of their lifetime.

But there was one other man.

He was in the prime of life.

He possessed the powerful body of a Martial Artist.

His blood and qi were abundant.

He stood at his peak.

Tian Wujing.

But Zheng Fan remembered that drizzly day in Fengxin City.

He had held an umbrella and walked beside Tian Wujing through those lonely streets.

Emperor Yan and the Marquis of Zhenbei wanted to live one day longer if they could.

Hold on one day longer if they could.

But for Old Tian, every additional day he endured was another day of torment.

When war began, he could cast everything else aside and devote his entire being to the campaign.

But once the fighting stopped, once everything around him fell quiet, Heaven alone knew what that man endured.

Originally, Zheng Fan had never imagined he would actually have the opportunity to influence any of this, so he had not thought too deeply about it.

But after entering the capital this time, he discovered that reality differed considerably from what he and the others had expected.

It was a difference neither he nor the Blind Man and the others, far away at Snow Sea Pass, had anticipated.

Even Old Sixth Ji had failed to anticipate it.

Emperor Yan’s desire to restart the wars was far more urgent than anyone had expected.

And the extraordinarily grand ceremony welcoming Zheng Fan into the capital— an imperial prince leading his mount, the Crown Prince personally receiving him, more than a thousand Imperial Guards forming ranks inside the palace and cheering his name— all of it carried Emperor Yan’s meaning.

Perhaps the original purpose of summoning Zheng Fan to Yanjing had never simply been to let him parade a princess before the people, boast of his achievements, display the virility of Yan’s sons, and rouse popular morale.

Emperor Yan intended to use Zheng Fan, the foremost general of Great Yan’s younger generation, as a blade in his hand.

A blade to cut through every obstruction in front of him.

For one purpose alone: to begin the next war as soon as possible.

If war was what he wanted, then war it would be.

[End of Chapter 491]