Chapter 162: Ministers’ Reactions, Premature Prophecy

**Chapter 162: The Ministers’ Reactions and a Premonition**

“Your Majesty, urgent news has just arrived—an urgent dispatch from Fengzhou!” Su Fuan knelt on the ground, his head bowed so low he dared not even glance at the Emperor’s expression.

Like everyone else, Su Fuan assumed this dispatch must mean Fengzhou had suffered a savage retaliation from the Xiongnu soldiers.

Upon hearing the news, Mei Chengwen’s immediate thought was not concern for the lives of Fengzhou’s citizens but secret delight.

Mei Chengwen thought that Bing Wengu should be satisfied—after all, having the lives of an entire prefecture’s people as a sacrifice for his downfall was hardly an insult.

As for those lives, Mei Chengwen couldn’t care less; they paled in comparison to his own petty grudges.

“Your Majesty, the Fourth Prince foresaw this very outcome. The Third Prince of the Xiongnu is the Chanyu’s most favored son. Now that the Fengzhou Prefect has killed him, how could the Chanyu possibly accept it? He will surely retaliate with madness!” Mei Chengwen wailed with performative despair, his eyes reddening on cue.

The Minister of Revenue stepped forward and bowed to the Emperor. “The Fengzhou Prefect has greedily claimed undeserved merits, disregarding the broader strategy. In the end, it is the common folk who pay the price. Who knows how many will remain in Fengzhou after this?”

With every word spoken, Zhan Yu’s face darkened further. The Crown Prince thought with a silent sigh—Bing Wengu was likely finished this time.

Back then, he had admired Bing Wengu’s talent and rejected his advisors’ suggestion to sacrifice him for the throne. Yet now, not only had Bing Wengu failed to work a miracle in Fengzhou, he couldn’t even hold the city for three years without incident.

Truly, scholars will always be scholars—incapable of a general’s work. Men who excelled in both civil and military arts were once in a millennium, and the Great Yong’s miracle certainly did not lie with him.

Had he known this would be the outcome, he should have had Bing Wengu quietly eliminated on his way to his post. At least then, Bing Wengu could have contributed to his future reign, and Fengzhou’s destruction—along with the lives of its people—might have been spared.

Secretariat Drafter Shen closed his eyes, sighing inwardly. Bing Wengu’s downfall had come too abruptly.

Zhan Yu sat on the throne with a face like thunder. Every word from the ministers weighed on him like a mountain, stealing his breath.

“Father, no matter how unwilling you are to face it, what’s done is done. Bring the soldier outside in to explain the situation at once.”

At this moment, Zhan Fuxian played the role of a compassionate prince genuinely concerned for the people. Unfortunately, his acting was so poor that even in his distracted state, Zhan Yu instantly saw the barely concealed delight in his eyes.

When had his fourth son grown into such a wretched disappointment? These were the lives of Great Yong’s citizens—the very foundation of the nation. Yet his son, whether considering the greater good or personal sentiment, disregarded both country and humanity. Such a man was unfit even as a figurehead prince, let alone a ruler.

Unaware of his father’s utter disappointment, Zhan Fuxian mistook the Emperor’s glare as directed at Bing Wengu.

“Father, the only solution now is to hand over the Fengzhou Prefect to appease the Xiongnu’s wrath. Of course, that’s assuming he hasn’t already been killed by their soldiers. If he’s dead, then we may have to consider a marriage alliance to secure peace.”

Neither the Emperor nor his ministers entertained the possibility of Bing Wengu’s victory. For a century, Great Yong had never gained an advantage against the Xiongnu—cowed into submission, they instinctively braced for defeat.

Zhan Yu withdrew his gaze from Zhan Fuxian. Closing his eyes briefly, he reopened them with icy detachment, though his voice was hoarse with suppressed emotion.

“Bring him in!”

“Bring him in!” Su Fuan echoed loudly.

Then, a travel-worn but triumphant frontier army officer strode into the palace hall—not like a defeated warrior, but a victorious general, each step resolute and full of pride.

“This humble servant of Fengzhou’s frontier army greets Your Majesty! May Your Majesty live ten thousand years!” he announced, calm and clear.

His demeanor stunned the courtiers. They gaped at him, baffled by his audacity to carry himself so confidently before the Emperor at such a dire moment.

Zhan Yu detected the shift. His voice softened, as if afraid to shatter a fragile hope.

“Report Fengzhou’s situation at once!”

“Congratulations, Your Majesty! Fengzhou has achieved another great victory!” The soldier bared his teeth in a wide grin, unable to contain his excitement. “The Chanyu, enraged by Lord Bing’s execution of the Third Prince, sent the First Prince for revenge—only for Lord Bing to ambush and slay him on the spot!”

Like a spark in a powder keg, the court erupted in chaos!!!

It was as if the frontier army was speaking not in Dayong’s language, but in some other incomprehensible tongue.

The entire court erupted into chaos, a chaotic uproar of voices clashing together.

“What? The governor of Fengzhou has slain another Xiongnu prince!”

“The governor of Fengzhou has defeated the Xiongnu again!”

“How could Bing Wengu possibly defeat the Xiongnu again? Last time, it was only because they were caught off guard!” Grand Scholar Mei’s final remark, laced with such venomous envy that his voice pierced like a whistle, drew everyone's attention.

“What? Could it be that Grand Scholar Mei still resents the governor over some trivial personal grudge, unwilling to see him win?” a military officer retorted.

“So, in Grand Scholar Mei’s eyes, the lives of an entire city are worth less than your personal vendetta. Your bias is downright shameless!”

Mei Chengwen hurriedly glanced at Zhan Yu, whose face was as black as a pot’s bottom.

Panicked, Mei stammered, “Your Majesty, this subject absolutely does not mean that! This subject is merely… merely…”

Zhan Yu cast a cold look at him. “Merely what? Grand Scholar Mei, think carefully before you speak. Let this emperor witness firsthand how eloquent the Grand Scholar of Dayong can be.”

“This subject trembles in fear,” Mei prostrated himself on the floor. “This subject harbors no selfish motives—only shock and, above all, concern.”

“Oh? Minister Bing has won two decisive victories. What exactly are you concerned about?”

“This subject naturally fears Xiongnu retaliation. The governor of Fengzhou has slain two Xiongnu princes in succession. While it appears a great triumph, in truth, it has thoroughly enraged the Xiongnu. They will wage war on Fengzhou without mercy. If the Xiongnu mobilize their full strength against Fengzhou, the city may not withstand the assault. Only its complete destruction will quell the Xiongnu Chanyu’s wrath.”

“Grand Scholar Mei is quite the doomsayer! Earlier, before knowing of the frontier army’s victory, you predicted Fengzhou’s destruction. Now that Fengzhou has won, you predict its destruction again. So, whether Fengzhou wins or loses today, it must be destroyed anyway, is that it?”

“Why then? Is it because of your personal grudge with the governor? Because he refused to marry into your family—whether as son-in-law or brother-in-law—Fengzhou must suffer and be destroyed?”

Seeing Zhan Yu’s expression grow increasingly grim, Zhan Fuxian stepped forward to defend Grand Scholar Mei before punishment could be meted out.

“Father, Grandfather is merely overly anxious for Fengzhou’s people and misspoke.”

Ignoring Zhan Yu’s icy gaze, Zhan Fuxian pressed on, “It is not that this son doubts the governor. But for years, Fengzhou has been consistently outmatched by the Xiongnu forces. Neither its citizens nor its troops have had respite—whether in physical strength or tactical skill, they fall short of the Xiongnu. That is why Grandfather worries.”

The argument kept circling back to the same point: Fengzhou’s frontier army could not defeat the Xiongnu.

In the past, they had lost. Now, their victories were mere flukes. Once or twice is luck, but never thrice.

This view found support among many courtiers—not just Mei Chengwen’s faction—even neutral officials shared the concern. Even the Left Chancellor feared Bing Wengu’s success was just a flash in the pan.

Thus, upon hearing the latest report, the Left Chancellor remained uncharacteristically reserved. He worried that voicing skepticism now would undermine Bing Wengu, yet he also dreaded provoking the Xiongnu into annihilating Fengzhou.

As the two factions in court argued fiercely, another urgent missive arrived from Fengzhou.

Once more, the court held its breath. Mei Chengwen, unable to restrain himself, prophesied again—this time, surely, the Xiongnu Chanyu had launched a furious assault, and Fengzhou was pleading for reinforcements.

Zhan Yu had no patience for guessing games and summoned the messenger at once.

“Your Majesty, Wusun and the Xiongnu are now at war! They have no bandwidth to retaliate against Fengzhou, nor any chance to avenge their two princes.”

Elated, Zhan Yu exclaimed, “How did this happen? Report at once!”

The frontier soldier recounted how Bing Wengu had pinned the blame on Wusun, sowing war between the two tribes.

Zhan Yu laughed heartily. “Masterful work, Minister Bing! War knows no rules—what a brilliant stratagem!”

The military officers erupted in praise, heaping accolades on Bing Wengu without end.

As for Mei Chengwen, he wished he could disappear into thin air at this moment, remaining silent and not daring to utter a word. Even the Fourth Prince had quieted down.

The Crown Prince, however, was so shocked that his eyes bulged in disbelief. At this moment, he realized Bing Wengu might be far more crucial to the Great Yong’s future for generations to come than he had ever imagined.

Shen, the Secretariat Drafter, initially couldn't believe his ears. Once he recovered, he was forced to confront an undeniable truth: his Shen Qinghe was nowhere near in the same league as Bing Wengu. Perhaps the closest he had ever come to matching Bing Wengu's achievements was during their imperial examinations—Bing Wengu had been the top scholar (zhuangyuan), while he had come in second (bangyan).

Just then, Bing Wengu’s memorial arrived, and Zhan Yu hurriedly ordered it to be brought forward.

In truth, all of this had been carefully orchestrated by Bing Wengu, who had long anticipated the reactions of the court ministers.

With Mei Chengwen involved, Bing Wengu had already assumed the worst possible scenario with the utmost suspicion.

Therefore, he deliberately held back the urgent dispatches, ensuring the third one followed closely behind, before finally submitting his memorial.

Zhan Yu quickly opened and read the memorial. As expected, it recounted the two battles in detail and concluded with a request for the Emperor to construct a railway connecting Bianjing City to Fengzhou City.

Every minister could see how prosperous Jixian County had become.

Mei Chengwen absolutely did not want Bing Wengu to achieve further success in developing Fengzhou. So when Zhan Yu proposed building railway tracks and introducing trains to Fengzhou, Mei Chengwen shot a look at his allies.

At such a critical moment, he dared not oppose anything related to Bing Wengu again—otherwise, he might only anger the Emperor and make him dig in his heels even more.

Taking Mei Chengwen’s lead, a scholar stepped forward. “Your Majesty, though the Fengzhou Prefect has earned great merit, we must not allow the railway.

It is not that I do not wish for the people of Fengzhou to live prosperous lives, but the city’s location is far too vulnerable. If Fengzhou were ever to fall carelessly into enemy hands and the Huns breached its defenses, they could use the railway to ride straight into Bianjing.

It is not that I do not desire the prosperity of the Great Yong, but we must guard against disaster before it strikes, Your Majesty!”