Chapter 82: Worrying Blindly Is Not As Good As Drinking

"If Father's report arrives first, it might be read and then suppressed. Once the rumors are widespread, the report will then confirm them, and the Wang Ting won't be able to deny it."

"Why would it be suppressed?" He Lingchuan's thoughts turned, and he suddenly understood. "Hiss—you mean the Wang Ting is wary of the situation and wants to keep it secret? That's not good; wouldn't our credit be swallowed up?"

The Wang Ting was currently sending troops to attack the Grand Marshal, and the war at Woling Pass had only just ended. The vast empire was leaking from all sides, and the Wang Ting was exhausted from plugging the holes. At this time, they probably didn't want to force the Xunzhou Inspector into rebellion and create another powerful enemy for themselves.

Then it was very likely that they would suppress what happened in the Panlong Desert and keep it secret. This way, both the capital and the Xunzhou Inspector could breathe a sigh of relief.

But if that happened, the military merit He Chunhua was so obsessed with would likely fly away.

Having taken such a big risk and paid such a high price, how could he be willing?

So He Chunhua's strategy was to send people into the capital to stir things up first. As long as the rumors spread, even if the Xunzhou Inspector didn't want to rebel, he would have to!

The mutual suspicion between him and the Wang Ting was already separated by only a thin layer of window paper. It seemed He Chunhua had decided to poke through it himself.

Thinking this through, He Lingchuan couldn't help but clap his hands. "Old man is brilliant; his blade hasn't dulled with age!"

He Yue lowered his head. "Once the rumors spread, our credit will be confirmed. But the war in the northern Yuan region will reignite, and who knows how many lives will be swallowed up; or perhaps Nian Zanli will directly defect to the northern demon nation, and the Great Yuan will lose a province. For the Great Yuan, none of this is a good thing."

"Then is it a good thing for the Wang Ting to suppress our credit?"

"Perhaps the Wang Ting intends to deal with the Grand Marshal first and then consider the Xunzhou issue, defeating them one by one."

He Lingchuan found it funny. "Nian Zanli isn't a straw effigy; he won't just stand there stupidly waiting for people to attack. Since he has the intention to rebel, he's like a powder keg. Better to explode sooner than later; it might even save some lives." As he spoke, he patted his younger brother on the back of the head. "Sometimes, good intentions lead to bad results."

He Yue sighed. "Let me tell you something else; don't spread it."

He Lingchuan made a gesture of zipping his lips. "Don't worry, no pillow talk can leak from me right now."

He was also a bit strange; this brother was usually self-important and independent, not really on the same wavelength as him. Why did He Yue have a sense of closeness to him after returning from this Panlong Desert trip?

Could it be because he helped He Yue deal with Nian Songyu? He Yue subconsciously looked around. "When eating a few days ago, Father asked me how I viewed the Grand Marshal's rebellion, and I said it was treason."

He Lingchuan took a big slurp of almond tofu. "What's the problem with that?"

"That was just to handle the old man," He Yue said in a low voice. "Actually, putting myself in his shoes, I think the Grand Marshal is excusable. The King's handling of state affairs is truly a bit like child's play. Take the northern demon nation, for example; I actually agree more with the Grand Marshal."

"Oh?" He Lingchuan was a bit surprised. "You don't approve of defending the territory?"

"Who doesn't approve? But national policy must be based on reality; you can't just rely on the courage of a common man. Look at Panlong City; it's quite remarkable that it held out for thirty-two years after becoming an enclave. But its mother country was weak; no matter how Zhong Shengguang struggled, the Western Luo nation just lost the Panlong Wasteland again, and a few years later, it was gone itself."

"The strong can be impassioned and say 'those who offend me will be punished even if they are far away,' but the weak must know how to weigh trade-offs," He Yue said seriously. "Now our mother country is no longer the wealthy and strong Great Yuan of the past. The Grand Marshal is working hard to appease the northern nation so that the Great Yuan can free up its hands to quell the chaos within the country."

He Lingchuan smiled. "You want to say, 'to pacify the outside, one must first pacify the inside'?"

He Yue nodded.

"Then, what if the domestic chaos cannot be resolved? Separatism, floods, famine, rebels, border unrest—in the past ten years, it seems we've only solved disaster relief, and even that wasn't always successful. Because Father is in Qiansong County, the Red Cliff Road is very peaceful, but it wasn't like that seven or eight years ago."

He Lingchuan continued, "The Grand Marshal hasn't just gained power today; he's been assisting the King in managing these troubles for a long time, and they haven't been properly resolved either."

He Yue hesitated to speak and finally sighed.

He Lingchuan patted his shoulder. "It's fine to worry blindly, but you can't talk blindly. You can't spread a single word of what you said today, lest you implicate Father and me!"

He Yue said irritably, "Of course, I'm not stupid."

"Liu Baobao is treating us to drinks at the Acacia Tower tonight; are you going?"

"I can't drink."

Right, Lady Ying was very strict with this youngest son. He was fourteen; marriage could be discussed, but alcohol couldn't be touched. Tsk! He Lingchuan wanted to say something else, but his eyes rolled, and he grabbed another piece of red date cake. "I'm going to bathe; we'll talk later."

Without waiting for He Yue to reply, he jumped out the window and left.

"Eh?" He slipped away too fast; He Yue felt something was wrong.

Just a few breaths later, several figures walked in at the door, the leader being none other than Lady Ying.

She froze as soon as she saw the tabletop. "These are snacks for the tea party; they are to be sent out right now! Yue'er, why didn't you say anything if you wanted to eat? I would have had someone make them and send them over."

There were hardly any pieces left of the pastries that were enough for ten people. When did her son become such a big eater! He Yue: "..."

He Lingchuan, who had slipped back to his own courtyard, patted his belly—sixty percent full, happy! He had someone draw clean water, took a comfortable bath, and drank a cup of hot milk. Just as he was about to lie down for a nap, his gaze suddenly swept to the broken saber by the table.

Usually, this saber was kept in the study; he had subconsciously brought it over today.

He pulled out the broken saber and gently stroked it. Since leaving the illusion, this saber didn't seem as chillingly sharp; it was as if the edge that threatened to cut people's eyes didn't have any effect on him.

Of course, only on him. He Yue had only lightly touched the saber body, not even touching the blade, and had cut his finger.

He Lingchuan raised his finger and touched the blade, then immediately retracted it.

He cherished his body very much.

His finger was fine, completely intact.

He Lingchuan grew bolder and gently pressed his fingertip onto it.

Still no blood.

He pressed down hard, leaving a dent in his fingertip, yet the skin still didn't break.

It was as sharp as if it hadn't been sharpened.

He Lingchuan was suddenly overjoyed and waved the saber several times.

Crack! A sandalwood table several feet away snapped in two.

This saber was uniquely different only to him! He Lingchuan couldn't put it down.

This lone soul of his had come to a strange world, and although he lived a life of luxury and was surrounded by people, everything was inherited from the original body, and there was always an unrealistic sense of illusion.

Only this saber was truly and uniquely his; others couldn't even touch it for a second.

It was a pity, though, that he didn't know its name. A precious saber should have a name; why didn't Zhong Shengguang engrave its true name on the scabbard?

(End of Chapter) ===== CHAPTER 83 =====