Chapter 1683: The Land-Sea Rivalry

"Since you already have a plan, go ahead and handle these matters according to your own ideas—I have no objections!" On the palace terrace, Emperor Liu lay languidly in a rocking chair, basking directly in the sunlight, and said casually to the Crown Prince standing in attendance.

"Yes!" Liu Yang bowed respectfully, while inwardly breathing a quiet sigh of relief.

What Liu Yang had sought counsel on was naturally about the recent wars the Great Han faced—some initiated by choice, others forced upon them. He still could not quite gauge Emperor Liu's mindset, and he worried that his considerations might not be accepted by the Emperor. Fortunately, judging from Emperor Liu's current attitude, there was nothing unusual.

Emperor Liu wore a set of light silk robes that gleamed brilliantly under the not-too-harsh summer sun, holding in his hand a palm-leaf fan that looked utterly mismatched with his attire, fanning himself with affected nonchalance.

He could sense Liu Yang's caution and care, but Emperor Liu seemed unconcerned, continuing unhurriedly: "I won't see the envoy from Srivijaya—you just send him off!

These barbarian lands beyond the borders fear might but do not cherish virtue; they have petty courtesy but no great righteousness—that is the natural order. For the likes of Srivijaya, if you don't knock them around a bit, how could they ever listen and yield? Guo Liangping has done quite well!

However, your considerations also have merit—the war in the South Seas should not be expanded. Since the objective has been achieved, it's best to stop while ahead. Don't covet more and more; greed will only drag the Great Han into endless trouble.

The court cannot currently invest too many troops in the South Seas. We must avoid falling into a quagmire—things that cost more than they gain should be done sparingly. You negotiate with the Srivijaya envoy over the stability of the South Seas, and once terms are settled, have Guo Liangping withdraw his troops!"

"Your son understands!" Liu Yang nodded.

A large portion of the hidden worry in his heart over the South Seas affair had dissipated. With Emperor Liu's instruction, it meant the overall situation was settled—no one dared defy it, not even Guo Liangping, who was far away in Srivijaya.

But at the same time, Liu Yang could not help but sigh inwardly. Toward the South Seas, Emperor Liu was so clear-headed, knowing that going too far was as bad as falling short, unwilling to do things that cost more than they gained—yet why did he remain so stubbornly insistent on the war in the Western Regions, even to the point of being unreasonable?

The results of the past period of fighting had already proven that the Kara-Khanids were not easily destroyed. After over a month of bloody battle, with heavy losses of men and officers, the only gains were a ruined Kucha city and a nominal expansion of several hundred li—it simply did not pay off. If it was merely a matter of face, then it truly was unnecessary.

Of course, even as Liu Yang sighed, he did not again attempt to dissuade the Emperor regarding the Western Regions campaign. Since the war had begun and reached its current state, with the Kara-Khanids still refusing to let the matter go, how could the Great Han compromise or retreat? They could only continue to hold firm.

The court likewise had to offer full support. The question of sending more troops was a separate matter, but war supplies and logistical support still needed to be provided as best as possible.

Emperor Liu naturally had no idea of Liu Yang's rich inner deliberations. Squinting slightly, he tilted his head up to face the sunlight directly, his aged face lost in thought. After a long while, he finally said in a deep voice: "Issue an edict—have Guo Tingwei, Zhang Yanwei, and those old naval commanders and marquises all return to the capital. Since they've retired, let them rest well and enjoy their old age in peace. Half-retired yet still pulling strings behind the scenes, with no proper standing or justification—how are the naval commanders supposed to do their work?"

Hearing Emperor Liu say this, Liu Yang's heart tightened. Not daring to be negligent, he responded steadily: "Yes!"

Clearly, Emperor Liu was fully aware of certain situations within the navy. The Great Han navy had grown from nothing, from an inland river fleet to a trans-oceanic armada. Though it had originated from the early Jingjiang Army, its rapid development and expansion owed much to the officers and men of the south.

Northerners excel with horses, southerners with ships—that was an objective reality that had to be faced. During the course of development, a group of southern commanders led by Guo Tingwei and Zhang Yanwei naturally played a tremendous role, and thus their voice in affairs was established.

However, because of their origins as surrendered generals, they were always regarded with one level less respect. Many civil and military officials maintained a certain wariness, and over the decades, even though they had fully integrated into the Great Han system, that vigilance had become a habit.

Of course, the fundamental reason lay in the fact that the navy's rise had encroached upon too many people's interests. In the land-sea rivalry alone, as one rose the other fell—when the navy's voice increased, the army's naturally decreased.

The Great Han basically operated on the principle of granting noble titles for military merit. Ever since Emperor Liu established a strict and generously endowed system of ranks and stipends, the army's hunger for noble titles had become extremely intense.

And the dozen or so marquises and earls that had emerged from the navy were, to a certain extent, snatched away from the army. How could the commanders of the cavalry and infantry, who had always regarded themselves as the supreme branch, be willing to accept that?

In the process of the maritime trade boom, leveraging their inherent advantages, they had seized vast profits through various conveniences and means—how could that not make others green with envy? That the navy lived better than the army was an indisputable fact, and how could it not invite resentment?

In the eyes of the many military nobles of the army, they had won the realm—their contributions were the greatest, their sacrifices the heaviest. The navy was merely a supporting role sheltered under their wings, and thus they naturally placed great weight on their status and treatment.

Although the Great Han still operated under the dominance of continental power, and the cavalry and infantry remained the mainstream of the military, still holding absolute say within the armed forces and even the court, the navy's rising trend in recent years still made them feel vigilant and uncomfortable.

After all, through overseas expansion and trade, through the plundering of the native peoples of the South Seas, the navy had indeed brought substantial benefits to the court—something the army could hardly achieve, and that was precisely what galled them most.

Therefore, in recent years, within the military, especially within the cavalry and infantry system, remarks and measures targeting the navy had been frequent. Had it not been for Emperor Liu's protection, the proposals to compress the navy's establishment and cut its forces would have already been implemented.

At the height of the land-sea rivalry, there were even proposals to dismantle the navy's enormous capital ships, which required massive maintenance costs, retaining only the inland river fleet—and such talk actually won the support of a large number of army officers.

Pressured by this situation, Emperor Liu had no choice but to intervene, rejecting those absurd proposals, and through a combination of suppression and persuasion, dealt with some of the disgruntled cavalry and infantry officers.

But perhaps to appease the cornerstone of the nation's military, he also took certain measures against the navy—such as removing from office commanders like Guo Tingwei, Zhang Yanwei, and even Liu Guangyi, who had transferred from the army to the navy midway. Only thus were the conflict-ridden land and naval forces barely reconciled, and some of the army's resentment toward the navy assuaged.

Coupled with the enormous profits from overseas expansion, the navy's days in recent years had become somewhat better, and their circumstances had improved considerably.

But the fundamental problem had not been resolved, and within the navy itself, things were likewise far from peaceful. Factional strongholds had become the norm, and the north-south rivalry was the primary contradiction.

The southern faction, with its vast power and deep influence, kept the northern-born naval officers and men firmly suppressed, while the northerners found themselves utterly incompatible with the southerners. In recent years, following the prevailing trend, naval talent from the south had burst forth in abundance, forming cliques and factions, their strength and influence growing ever more deeply entrenched.

Emperor Liu's order for old naval veterans and senior commanders like Guo Tingwei and Zhang Yanwei to retreat behind the scenes was not without the intention of dismantling these factional strongholds.

However, in reality, though the men were no longer in their posts, their influence had hardly diminished. The Guo, Zhang, and Liu families together occupied nearly half the navy, with their sons and younger relatives filling many key positions—Guo Liangping being the most representative example.

And with Guo Liangping's many achievements in the south over the years, even earning himself the noble title of Baron Zhiyuan, he had become even more conspicuous. In recent days, criticism and rumors had been incessant, and the Bureau of Military Affairs had repeatedly issued orders restraining Guo Liangping's actions in the Srivijaya campaign—likewise carrying a hint of suppression.

Otherwise, if Guo Liangping truly destroyed Srivijaya and expanded the territory by several thousand li, wouldn't the navy be gaining yet another marquis? And if the war expanded, it would be the southern infantry who would do the bleeding and dying—using the army's blood to gild the navy's medals of merit was naturally something they were unwilling to accept.

Of course, there were also those who supported expanding the war, provided that the command authority remained in the army's hands. But such voices were not loud—both those in power and those with foresight believed that things should not be taken too far.

Likewise, the navy's arrogant and self-willed behavior had also drawn much criticism. The semi-retirement of naval chieftains like Guo Tingwei and Zhang Yanwei also rankled people. At the very least, Lin Renzhao, the Vice Commissioner of Military Affairs who was constantly constrained and caught in the middle, harbored considerable indignation privately.

Emperor Liu saw all of this clearly and had accumulated some dissatisfaction in his heart. This time, summoning Guo Tingwei, Zhang Yanwei, and the others back to the capital was a warning.

Though Emperor Liu was pleased with the navy's aggressive initiative and supported their expansion and growth, the precondition for all of it was obedience to the court's command and firm control by the court.

If they remained arrogant and unbridled without realizing it, then a purge would be inevitable. Without the court as their backing, the navy was ultimately a tree without roots, water without a source—this was a point they needed to be made to understand clearly.