Chapter 159

Inside Shayan Pass, the Northern Barbarian Army had withdrawn but not completely, watching hungrily from just outside the pass.

After the grain supplies from Western Shu arrived, Ye Xuanjiu immediately got to work setting up the supply line between the two regions. Shayan Pass also affected the later Mobei battlefield—only by getting this supply line up could they make sure grain got to Mobei without a hitch.

But as he passed through the camp, he caught a glimpse of warhorses passing by, their hooves fitted with worn-out shoes. He frowned right away and hurried over to the stables. When he saw that plenty of the horses in the stables were still wearing old, worn-out shoes, he demanded, "What the hell is going on here?"

"The north hasn't seen much fighting these past few years, so the court hasn't sent much gear," an old general said. "The court's been stingy with supplies, and the men figured if it still works, keep using it. No big deal."

Qi Hanzhou frowned. No, something was off. Back in Jiangnan and Western Shu, he'd run into other garrison troops. Different battlefields meant different conditions, so the horseshoes had to be tailored to each region—especially up north, where there was nothing but desert and gobi, and gear wore out way faster than down south. The gear sent up north should've been different.

He'd been in the capital, so he'd kept an eye on what was being shipped to the northern front.

He knew the Ministry of Works had been in the Secret Faction's pocket back then, with graft and bribery running rampant—the faction had skimmed plenty off the military budget. Later, the ministry got reorganized to handle the mess down south, and since the north hadn't seen any big battles, there wasn't much call to swap out gear. But the Emperor had never cut back on what he sent north every year...

But the Third Prince stopped Qi Hanzhou, signaling for him to keep quiet.

The two of them quickly ducked into a quiet spot before the Third Prince spoke.

"These are definitely standard issue for the Northern Frontier Army, but the materials are wrong." Having spent years in the capital, the Third Prince had noticed the problem the moment he got to Shayan, so he'd asked a military artisan traveling with the Lu family—an old hand who'd once worked in the Ministry of Works. The old man spotted the problem right away—cheap materials being passed off as the real deal. That explained everything.

Down south, it wouldn't matter much, but up north, where gear wore out fast, that cheap stuff would fall apart in no time.

The soldiers on the front couldn't tell the difference, but the artisans could. Once they figured it out, General Qi told them to keep their mouths shut.

Qi Hanzhou's gaze faltered as the pieces clicked, then he turned sharply toward the Qi Family Camp.

Up at the Qi Family Camp in the northern frontier, a falcon swooped into the commander's tent and landed right beside a middle-aged man before coming to a dead stop. The officers in the tent turned at the sound, watching the falcon settle on the man's arm. As he took the message, the tent went dead quiet, everyone waiting for him to take charge again.

"Word from Shayan, General—the Junior General's made it north." The Light Garment Battalion commander reported, "Our men hadn't even reached Shayan before his falcon showed up. He brought the Western Shu Army as backup and pulled Shayan out of the fire."

A lot of the officers in the tent turned to look at Qi Shen. Back when the Junior General had been stuck in the capital all those years ago, every one of these soldiers had wanted to fight for his release. Everyone knew the Emperor meant to keep the Junior General in the capital as a hostage, but the Junior General was the Qi family's only heir. A lot of them were Qi family retainers—how could they stand to see a man with his talent stuck in the capital?

But General Qi had been dead set on it, agreeing to keep the Junior General in the capital, and so the years slipped by.

At the mention of Qi Hanzhou, something flickered in Qi Shen's eyes. He tossed the secret letter from the capital into the brazier. "How's the kid doing?"

"Doing great—he took One-Eye alive and brought grain to Shayan," the Light Garment Battalion commander said.

Ever since the south blew up, they'd heard plenty about what was going on down there—how Junior General Qi had made a name for himself in the southern campaign, and how the Crown Prince and the Junior General had stabilized the south. So when they heard the Junior General was leading troops to reinforce Shayan, these men couldn't hold back their excitement.

The capital was never the Qi family's real home—the wide-open battlefields were.

Qi Shen's eyes swept over Shayan Pass on the sand table before settling back on the royal court. "The Northern Barbarians have more men than I figured. They pulled back at Shayan on purpose, but they kept their strength—at least fifty thousand."

"The new Northern Barbarian King's been drafting troops like crazy these past few years; this attack on Shayan used troops he'd kept hidden," an officer said, glancing at Qi Shen. The Northern Barbarians had been making noise lately—the new king, who'd taken over a few years back, had drafted from every tribe, damn near making every man a soldier, on a scale nothing like ten years ago.

That was exactly why the Emperor and General Qi had stayed on guard, knowing the barbarians were definitely planning an invasion—which was why they couldn't send troops south during the southern crisis. This time, the Northern Barbarians had come out in full force—not just with more men, but with a big problem on the weapons front.

The Northern Frontier Army, led by the Qi family, had over a hundred thousand men—plenty to handle the Northern Barbarians in the old days. But in recent years, while Dayuan was bogged down in internal squabbles, the Northern Barbarians had been gearing up for invasion the whole time. Qi family scouts had found Dayuan weapons blueprints in barbarian territory—and improved ones at that. Anyone who'd been to war knew victory didn't just come down to numbers—it came down to weapons too.

They also knew how the leak happened: after the court purged the old Ministry of Works, sleeper agents who'd been planted in the Works and War ministries for years had spilled Dayuan's military secrets—something you couldn't fully guard against. That was probably also why the Secret Faction and the Northern Barbarians had gotten so tight. But because of it, the Qi family had been forced to swap out a bunch of their standard weapons and come up with new defensive plans.

This made rear support all the more critical.

Grain, equipment, and the like—for the current Northern Frontier Army, these were paramount.

"General, what's the court's stance?" an officer couldn't help but ask.

It wasn't that they wanted to question the court, but in recent years, the north had received far too little support. They were, of course, pleased that the hidden agents within Dayuan had been purged, but what mattered most to the soldiers on the front lines was equipment and grain. With those, they could fight; without them, they were severely constrained.

In the old days, His Majesty had led campaigns personally, but now he was advanced in years and could no longer sustain such efforts.

The disaster of the military pay case was still fresh in the Northern Frontier Army's memory. These officers could understand the court's difficulties, but the common soldiers wouldn't—they feared waiting for pay that might never come.

"The lost grain can be replenished within ten days," Qi Shen said, placing a sand-table piece down. He straightened and looked toward the daylight outside the tent. "Order all battalions to take stock of remaining rations. If the court's grain doesn't arrive in time, we'll have to rely on southern deployment."

Southern grain sent to the north? That would take at least a month!

Unlike Shayan, which was near Western Shu and could be resupplied within five days, a month—if the enemy launched a full-scale assault, could they hold out for over a month?

"His Majesty has had the Lu family secretly transport equipment via another route—it will arrive soon. These supplies were hastily produced and suited to the north." Qi Shen knew that if the Northern Barbarians were watching the supply routes closely, the Lu family might only be able to use that route once, so the equipment the Emperor had sent this time would be enough to sustain the north for another two to three months.

But how long would this war in the north last, and how much support could the court actually provide?

The officers fell silent. One of them hesitated, then spoke: "General."

Qi Shen turned back and said, "Trust the court."

In the capital, hoofbeats thundered through the outskirts before the Imperial Guard even received word.

-*

No advance notice, no secret dispatch—only when the Crown Prince's carriage appeared on the capital's outskirts did the court learn of his arrival. The Ministry of Rites hastily sent officials to receive him, but their ceremonial preparations couldn't match the speed of his return. By the time the morning court session had just concluded, the Crown Prince's carriage had already entered the capital.

The Crown Prince was the great hero of the southern campaign—his return to the capital should have warranted a grand feast and full ceremony.

But this return came without prior notice, and the Eastern Palace officials announced that all formalities were waived.

Ye Xuanqi had escorted Ying Fusheng back to the capital the entire way. Upon arriving at the Eastern Palace, he ordered the bloodstains washed from the carriage.

Weng Yanqing and the other accompanying civil officials entered the Eastern Palace, where everyone sprang into action the moment they crossed the threshold. Some went to the Ministry of Works, others to the Ministry of War...

Within half an hour, a request for an audience with the Emperor had been delivered to the Qianqing Palace.

Ying Fusheng had been away from the capital for a long time, and this visit allowed him very little time.

Inside the Qianqing Palace, the burning incense carried a hint of medicinal aroma. Ying Fusheng had used medicine for years—this particular scent was for pain relief.

During his time in the south, Chu Taiyi had not only discussed his condition with two physicians but had also frequently sent people into the countryside to seek secret remedies for treating injuries and numbing pain. These efforts had been reported through the Light Garment Guard and ultimately reached him.

The fact that the medicinal scent wasn't concealed from him meant the Emperor knew he was already aware.

When Ying Fusheng saw the man bent over his desk, he noted that in just a few months, the Emperor had aged several years more. Previously only his temples had grayed, but now white hairs had spread, and his features bore more signs of age. Such a face, Ying Fusheng had only seen in his previous life, when the Emperor was plagued by old wounds and ultimately died from the severity of his injuries.

In this life, the spies in the harem had long been rooted out by him, and his father had long been wary of the Secret Faction.

Yet the signs of his illness had still appeared. That could only mean the Secret Faction might have triggered its early onset, but in truth, the injuries sustained in campaigns had genuinely taken their toll on his father.

"You're here?" The Emperor looked up.

"Father." Ying Fusheng bowed. "Your son returned without reporting beforehand—please forgive me."

"Rise. You know I won't blame you," the Emperor said.

Ying Fusheng looked up and saw the mountain of memorials piled on the desk—something that had never happened before. According to Eastern Palace intelligence, Meng Jinyuan had been entering the palace frequently at night lately, often staying two or three hours before leaving, with court affairs secretly delegated to others. Just as he expected the Emperor to raise matters of state, the Emperor suddenly asked, "How is your health?"

"After much rest, your son has fully recovered," Ying Fusheng replied.

"The large-scale troop deployment in Western Shu—you signed the military orders? You've grown quite close to him." The Emperor's eyes fixed on Ying Fusheng, and in that instant, a suffocating pressure bore down on him. At those words, Ying Fusheng's body tensed, and he prepared his explanation.

But before he could speak, the Emperor continued, "What you did was the right thing."

The Emperor didn't hold his overstepping against him.

"Do you know why Qi Shen left his son in the capital back then?" The Emperor rarely spoke in such an ordinary manner, and he did not reproach Ying Fusheng for his overreach or Qi Hanzhou for his recklessness. Instead, he brought up an old matter: "The Qi family served as the blade of Imperial Power during the late Emperor's reign. Before Qi Shen went to Western Shu, he was a household retainer serving the Ying family."

If the Qi family were a blade for imperial power, then the next head of the Qi family had to swear absolute loyalty to the throne.

Qi Shen had done the same in his day, and Qi Hanzhou remaining in the capital—whether out of personal motives or not—was a necessity. He had to stay.

"You are the Crown Prince, and he is a subject. This blade of the Qi family will eventually pass into your hands," the Emperor said.

Ying Fusheng sensed something in the Emperor's words and suppressed his shock, quickly replying, "Your son would never dare to presume such a thing."

"You have that intent, and you must have it."

The Emperor countered him, gazing at the son growing up before him. Though his time as Crown Prince had been brief, he had already become the finest crown prince of this generation in Dayuan. "I sent you to the Southern Frontier. Did you see what you were supposed to see?"

The Emperor had ruled for many years, having once been Crown Prince himself, climbing step by step to where he now stood. In Ying Fusheng's eyes, he saw the same ambition he had once harbored. Two generations of Dayuan emperors had harbored that same ambition—the late Emperor's was to seize the throne by force of arms, and his own was to secure the Northern Frontier and drive out the Northern Barbarians. But unchecked ambition left hidden dangers behind.

The late Emperor had courted the great clans to consolidate military power, and countless meritorious officials now entrenched themselves throughout the court and the country.

And he, in his campaigns to build the Northern Frontier's foundation, had allowed the Secret Faction to seize an opening, leaving a hidden threat behind.

"You've seen the soldiers of the South and the generals of the North—they are Dayuan's roots."

The Emperor looked at him, without discussing any other state affairs. He knew Ying Fusheng had come to the palace today not for anything else—first, to explain himself, and second, to ask for power. He had come for Dayuan's Northern Frontier.

"Then you should know what to do."

Ying Fusheng was silent for a moment, then finally said, "Father, please take care of your health."

From the moment the Northern Frontier crisis broke out, Ying Fusheng had known: the Emperor had held back the troubles of the North, only letting them go after he had resolved the Southern Frontier. Because the Emperor knew that without settling the South, Dayuan—torn by internal strife and external threats—could hardly hold off the restless barbarian tribes. By putting this problem in front of him, he was undoubtedly sending a message.

As he left Qianqing Palace, eunuchs came out to see him off, with Eunuch Rong following along.

Ying Fusheng merely glanced at him, then turned and walked out of the palace.

The moment he stepped out of the palace gates, his expression turned dark and grim. Hidden in his sleeve was a secret scroll that Ji Wuming had delivered along the way.

"Your Highness, something has gone wrong!"

"Someone at court has impeached the Ministry of Works for padding its ranks and embezzling military funds for the Northern Frontier—the military supplies are compromised." Weng Yanqing hurried over, meeting Ying Fusheng outside the palace walls. "The matter has reached the Censorate, and the evidence is solid. It's aimed at the Ministry of War and Works."

Delaying military operations, grain shortages—if those couldn't bring down the Ministry of War and Works, then the remaining angle was the military equipment. These hidden problems had likely been buried within the countless debts of those two ministries long before Hu Buyu and Liu Yunshi took over, waiting for the day they could be used as a weapon for replacement.

Once the court fell into chaos, to ensure stability on the Northern Frontier, one would have to shore up the political situation and choose compromise.

That compromise might mean ceding power, or it might mean cooperation.

These people were forcing the Eastern Palace to make a choice.

The Secret Faction was the rot within the court, and the great clans were the decayed roots of the state.

Behind those roots lay a tangle of countless interests. Imperial power could sever them with a single stroke, but doing so risked shaking the wartime foundation. The matter of the Northern Barbarians' grain supplies was enough to show that this had already crossed his father's bottom line. Countless eyes were fixed on the Emperor, watching his every move. The great clans schemed for profit, the Secret Faction burrowed deep, and the entire capital was woven into a web by these so-called interests.

Ying Fusheng gripped the secret letter from Ji Wuming—though it was in Ji Wuming's name, it had actually been delivered through the Imperial Guard by the Emperor himself. It contained years of irrefutable evidence of the great clans' misdeeds.

His father's position allowed him to move against these people, but he needed a justification.

That justification had been handed to the Eastern Palace.

Ying Fusheng suppressed the fury within him. The words "military supplies" affected the stability of the entire Northern Frontier. "I have never liked making choices."

"Notify the Three Judicial Offices and the Imperial Guard—follow me to the Yun residence."

He would clear out this filth and these rotten roots with all possible speed.