Chapter 178: Wusun Envoy, Asking for the Moon

**Chapter 178: The Wusun Envoys’ Exorbitant Demands**

The newly established city required much work, so Bing Wengu had been staying there for a long time. Fengzhou City was managed by Shen Chengzhou, who would send official documents to the new city for matters he couldn’t handle. Bing Wengu also returned to Fengzhou periodically to oversee affairs.

Nan Jinping’s business was based in Fengzhou City, so Jin Geer frequently traveled between the two places. Most of the time, Bing Wengu would assign Cong Lin to accompany him for safety during the journey.

A railway connected the new city and Fengzhou, and Jin Geer sometimes commuted by train, which was even safer and posed no risks.

Recently, the Wusun had been unusually quiet, causing no trouble, so Bing Wengu temporarily ignored them and focused on economic development.

Perhaps because of this, Jin Geer let his guard down. This time, he didn’t inform Bing Wengu in advance before traveling from Fengzhou to the new city, so Bing Wengu didn’t send Cong Lin to escort him.

Had he taken the train, boarding in Fengzhou and disembarking in the new city, the journey would have been perfectly safe.

The problem was that Jin Geer had recently acquired a fine horse and, in high spirits, decided to ride it to the new city. Along the way, he encountered trouble—he was abducted by the Wusun.

"Sir, Wusun envoys are requesting an audience outside the palace," Cong Lin hurried in and reported, kneeling on one knee.

"So it was indeed the Wusun’s doing. I thought they had learned their lesson from the Xiongnu’s fate and were lying low, but instead, they were quietly plotting something big!" Jiang Jinghuai was frantic with worry upon hearing of Jin Geer’s abduction.

"Jin Geer is a defenseless young man. Who knows how terrified he must be in the hands of the Wusun? Those barbarians might even harm him."

With every word Jiang Jinghuai spoke, Bing Wengu’s expression turned stormier—it was beyond mere gloom; it was downright terrifying.

"Let them in," Bing Wengu said, his voice devoid of rage or panic, eerily calm.

But this very calmness sent chills down Cong Lin’s spine, like the unsettling quiet before a storm. And the storm lurking beneath that calm was the most terrifying kind—one capable of unleashing devastating destruction and claiming countless lives.

Not daring to even glance at Bing Wengu, Cong Lin hastily withdrew and soon returned with three burly men dressed in Wusun attire.

The three swaggered into the hall, neither bowing nor greeting Bing Wengu. Their eyes deliberately roamed with disdain, their body language exuding nothing but arrogance and contempt.

"This Xiongnu palace is no grander than when the Xiongnu were here," Ri Er, the Wusun envoy, remarked casually to his companions.

His companion scoffed. "What wealth does Fengzhou have? The Xiongnu plundered it to the brink of ruin. That it looks this decent now is already a miracle."

Bing Wengu’s voice remained as still as an ancient well, unruffled. "You have taken my husband."

The two Wusun men finally sensed something amiss in Bing Wengu’s flat tone. The Fengzhou Prefect was far too composed.

Rumors said he cherished his spouse as much as his own life.

But if that were true, why was he so calm? Anger or panic—there should have been some emotion, not this unsettling indifference, as if it didn’t concern him at all.

The three Wusun envoys looked up at Bing Wengu and met his gaze.

His eyes were pitch-black, like a starless night shrouded in storm clouds, so dark one couldn’t see their own hand in front of their face.

From those inscrutable eyes, the envoys could discern no emotion. Logically, that should have meant they felt nothing.

Yet all three simultaneously sensed an indescribable terror—an ancient, primal fear etched deep into their souls.

Somehow, from those unfathomable depths, they instinctively caught the scent of blood-soaked battlefields.

It was as if they stood before the gates of a ghastly hell, where all horrors and carnage lay hidden in darkness, one step away from eternal damnation.

Ri Er shuddered violently, his scalp prickling, every hair on his body standing on end.

"D-don’t act rashly. Remember, your husband is still in our hands," he stammered. Though Bing Wengu hadn’t uttered a single threat, Ri Er felt an overwhelming sense of impending doom—the kind that promised a gruesome end.

"If you dare lay a finger on us, I swear the Kunmi will repay it a thousandfold on your husband!" Ri Er blustered. "If you don’t want him to suffer a fate worse than death, show us some respect!"

"If you harm even a single hair on Jin Geer’s head, I vow to wage a lifelong vendetta against your Wusun people!" Jiang Jinghuai was truly terrified. He couldn't bear to imagine what Nan Jinping, a Shuang Er, might endure in the hands of the Wusun.

Jiang Jinghuai’s frantic protests stood in stark contrast to Bing Wengu’s icy composure. To an outsider, it might seem as though it was Jiang Jinghuai’s husband who had been abducted.

The three Wusun envoys were utterly bewildered by the two men’s reactions. They glanced between Bing Wengu and Jiang Jinghuai, whispering in Wusun.

"Did we kidnap the wrong person? Why is the one in the Dayong official robes so calm, as if he doesn’t care at all, while the other is panicking like he’s lost his own husband?"

"Wasn’t it him? When we entered, didn’t the one in the Dayong official robes ask if we were the ones who took his husband?"

"Then why is he acting so indifferent? The Xiongnu spy said this Fengzhou Prefect dotes on his husband, taking him everywhere, as if attached at the hip. But this reaction doesn’t match the rumors—he’s too calm, doesn’t seem to care much at all."

"Probably faking it! Putting on a show to lower our demands. Besides, even though he appears calm, didn’t you feel the killing intent radiating from him the moment we stepped in? That’s not something you can fake—he wouldn’t have that intensity if he didn’t care."

"Good. His concern only strengthens our hand."

Jiang Jinghuai, unable to understand the Wusun language, scratched his head in frustration. "Yuan Ting, what are they muttering about?"

Bing Wengu had recently studied some Wusun with Nan Jinping. He understood every word—and the more he heard, the darker his gaze grew.

Bing Wengu remained silent. Jiang Jinghuai, receiving no answer, dared not press further. Unlike the Wusun, he knew exactly how much Nan Jinping meant to Bing Wengu. Though his heart burned with anxiety, he wouldn’t risk provoking Bing Wengu’s wrath now.

After their hushed discussion, Ri Er, as the lead envoy, finally spoke. "Fengzhou Prefect, you must know by now that your husband is in Wusun hands. If you want him returned safely, you’ll agree to the Kunmi’s demands."

Bing Wengu said coldly, "Speak."

"Our demands aren’t unreasonable. Dayong will send a princess to marry into our ranks. And not just any mere stand-in for a princess—she must be the emperor’s own daughter, a true princess. Of course, we’re flexible—we don’t require a royal-born princess; even a concubine-born princess is acceptable."

Ri Er wore an expression of fake generosity, as though this were no great imposition.

"And that’s just the first condition," he continued. "Second, we demand the construction of a rail line—like the ones you have in Fengzhou and Xiongnu territory, oh right, what you now call *New City*. This rail line must connect directly to your Bianjing capital."

"Impossible!" It was a blatant threat to the empire.

Wusun was a foreign power. If a rail line linked them directly to Bianjing, their armies could march straight to the capital undetected—placing them at the city gates overnight.

Ri Er smugly waved a dismissive hand. "Don’t be hasty. If not Bianjing, then at least to New City or Fengzhou as a transit point."

Even a single transit station would drastically reduce the risk of Wusun troops infiltrating undetected.

Bing Wengu remained silent. Taking this as tacit approval, Ri Er pressed on.

"Third, hand over the Xiongnu’s Chanyu Feiman and his second prince to Wusun. This should be no hardship for Dayong—they’re just expendable pawns, a waste of your food. Better to gift them to us as a gesture of goodwill."

Still, Bing Wengu said nothing. Ri Er took it as assent.

"Fourth, annual tribute. Since our two peoples will be bound by marriage, it’s only proper for Dayong, with its emphasis on kinship, to assist its new in-laws."

"We’re not asking much—just annual tribute. Twenty-two thousand taels of silver, twenty-three thousand bolts of silk, ten thousand catties of tea, twenty thousand dan of grain, salt..."

Ri Er listed an exorbitant amount, leaving Jiang Jinghuai first stunned, then furious.

"Have you Wusun lost your minds? These terms—do you think you’ve kidnapped the Crown Prince of Dayong? Jin Geer is just a prefect’s husband! Do you honestly believe the Emperor would agree to such ludicrous demands for him?!"

Ri Er shrugged, shameless. "That’s none of our concern. If you want Xiao Geer alive, these are our terms. As for how you convince the Emperor, that’s Prefect Bing’s affair. Surely a man of his stature can persuade His Majesty—it shouldn’t be too difficult."

"You’re mad!" Jiang Jinghuai shouted. "Do you even intend to negotiate? The Emperor would never agree, even if you killed Jin Geer! If you’re serious, state realistic terms we can actually meet!"

Ri Er spread his hands, saying, "This is our bottom line. Whether you believe it or not is up to you—in the end, it's Xiao Geer's life that will be lost. As for whether Prefect Bing will feel any regret, that depends on him."

Jiang Jinghuai and the Wusun envoys all turned their eyes toward Bing Wengu, awaiting his response.

In truth, Ri Er knew well that a mere minor prefect’s husband could never achieve the effect of using the emperor as a hostage to control the nobles. But when discussing terms, bargaining was expected. By first proposing an extreme demand, there would be room for negotiation, preventing the other side from driving the price too low.

As for Wusun’s true bottom line, it was simply a marriage alliance and peace negotiations.

Kunmi believed that given Bing Wengu’s current influence, if he were to advise the Great Yong Emperor regarding Wusun’s formidable military strength and the likelihood of defeat, the Emperor would surely accept a marriage alliance and peace negotiations in order to avoid reigniting war.

The only difference lay in the specific terms—particularly the amount of annual tribute. As long as Lord Bing was willing to go to bat for Wusun, the tribute could certainly be negotiated to a figure satisfactory to Wusun.