[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-from-special-forces-to-the-multiverse":3,"chapter-from-special-forces-to-the-multiverse-from-special-forces-to-the-multiverse-chapter-165":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","From Special Forces to the Multiverse",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2315215,4527,"Chapter 165","from-special-forces-to-the-multiverse-chapter-165",165,"\u003Cp>Zhao Kuo fell silent for a long time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was naturally gentle and disliked warfare, but the four characters “recover the Central Plains” were carved into the bones of every Southern Song emperor. He looked at the fire in Han Tuozhou’s eyes, then at the military report in Su Shidan’s hands, and finally nodded slowly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Approved.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One word, light as air, fell into the incense smoke of the Chonggong Hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Su Shidan knelt on the ground, his lips moving slightly, but he swallowed the words lodged in his throat—“Grand Tutor, that Xinming Party cavalry, after reorganizing the Kerulen tribe, crossed the desert in just seven days. Seven days. In the past thousand years, no steppe army has ever achieved such speed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He swallowed the words, bowed his head, rose, and exited the hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Outside the hall, the sweet scent of osmanthus from West Lake still hung heavy. Lin’an bustled with life; storytellers in teahouses recounted how Grand Marshal Yue had speared the Little Prince of Liang; children in the streets chased each other with bamboo horses; merchant ships on the canal unloaded spices from Jiaozhi and rice from Champa. Everything thrived under the sun, like a painting that would never fade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one noticed that among the testimonies of the Guizheng people in a corner of the Privy Council, a crumpled sheet of paper was tucked—a sketch drawn in charcoal by a northern-defector Han merchant: a red flag with a crossed sickle and hammer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The merchant said he had glimpsed the Xinming Party’s encampment from afar; all their flags bore this design, vivid red as blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whether it was a rising sun or an anvil, he was too far to tell clearly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This record was later filed under “Northern Border Miscellany,” buried beneath piles of documents on Jin grain prices and Western Xia horse policy, never opened again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Privy Council, late night.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The candles had been replaced three times. Tea on the desk cooled and was refilled, cooled again, yet Su Shidan did not drink a drop. Before him lay a thick stack of military reports—new and old, from varied sources: secret letters from the Sichuan Pacification Commission, courier dispatches from the Jinghu Pacification Office, silk messages from spies inside Jin territory, and transcribed testimonies of Guizheng defectors. Scattered across the desk like puzzle pieces, he had sat before them for four full hours, finally piecing together a rough outline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The outline sent a chill down his spine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He laid out a fresh sheet of paper, picked up his brush, and began drafting his memorial. Halfway through, the brush paused. He stared at the words he had written—each seemed like madness, yet each was supported by at least three independent testimonies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Forget it.” He whispered, crumpled the ruined paper, tossed it into the charcoal brazier, took another sheet, and listed the facts in the plainest, driest tone possible—no speculation, no judgment—leaving it to Grand Tutor Han to decide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The second imperial audience included a few more people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Besides Han Tuozhou and Su Shidan, Wu Xi’s urgent military report from Sichuan was exceptionally permitted direct submission to the throne, and the Jinghu Pacification Commissioner Zhao Chun had dispatched a staff officer to rush to the capital overnight. A large map hung in the hall, marked in cinnabar with the positions of Western Xia, Jin, and the steppe—red symbols dense as spreading blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Su Shidan rose to report, his voice even drier than before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Your Majesty, esteemed ministers, since the last report, the situation in the north has changed drastically. Western Xia has fallen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A murmur swept through the hall. Minister of War Xue Shusi blurted: “Fallen? Western Xia has been destroyed?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not destroyed as a state,” Su Shidan chose his words carefully, “but fallen in another way. The Western Xia royal house remains, the state name unchanged, but all military garrisons, passes, granaries, and ironworks have been seized by so-called ‘advisory teams’ sent by the steppe. The Western Xia army is being reorganized—its designations remain, but its command structure has been dismantled and rebuilt; all officers above company level are now appointed by steppe political commissars. According to our spies, a new drill manual has been introduced, entirely unlike Western Xia’s old system, identical to the one used during the reorganization of the Kerulen tribe last year.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned the page, his fingers trembling slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Worse still is this. Western Xia’s iron. Its ironworks were never weak—Mount Helan had decades-old state-run smelters. Now these are all seized, operating day and night. A Guizheng defector claims he saw Western Xia troops near Xingqing equipped with new gear—their arrowheads were replaced with uniform narrow-bladed armor-piercing points, shaft lengths and fletching angles perfectly consistent. What does this mean? Standardization. Your Excellencies, steppe cavalry plus Western Xia ironworks plus standardized arms—this is no longer a tribal force relying on mounted archery.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He set down the report, his voice dropping lower.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“There is one more thing. Western Xia has signed a treaty of alliance with this organization. We have not obtained the full text, but one clause was leaked by disgruntled former Western Xia officials—Western Xia has agreed to grant the steppe forces ‘right of passage.’ What does ‘right of passage’ mean? Southward through Xiaoguan Pass leads directly into Lizhou West Road. Eastward through Suide and Yan’an leads into Jin’s Fuyan Road.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His finger traced a line on the map from Western Xia southeastward—the endpoint landed precisely on Sichuan’s Shukou defensive line.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Xi’s urgent report proved timely. Su Shidan picked up the secret letter from Sichuan, his voice heavy: “Wu Pacifier’s message was clear: the Lizhou West Road front was originally only meant to defend against Western Xia. Now that Western Xia has become another’s corridor, the pressure on this front has more than doubled. The three passes of Shukou—Wuxiu Pass, Xianren Pass, Qifang Pass—have been our great Song’s gateways for generations. But these passes were designed to defend against conventional mixed infantry-cavalry forces, never against a mobile steppe force with standardized equipment and unified command. Wu Pacifier’s exact words: ‘If the enemy uses Xia territory as a corridor, emerges through Xiaoguan, and strikes Shukou, I do not know what strategy I can employ to resist.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These words were grave. Wu Xi was Pacifier of Sichuan, commander of all troops in Lizhou East and West—the highest commander on the western front. For him to say “I do not know what strategy I can employ” was not alarmism—it was genuine fear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The air in the hall suddenly thickened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Han Tuozhou had said nothing. He sat to the right of the imperial desk, hands folded over his abdomen, expression calm, betraying no emotion. But those who knew him noticed his right index finger tapping lightly, faster and faster, on his left hand’s back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He finally spoke, his voice much deeper than before: “What of Jin? How has Jin responded?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Jin’s response on the western front,” Su Shidan smiled bitterly, “can be summed up in four words: ‘frightened birds.’ All Jin forces in Shaanxi have entered combat readiness. Border markets have closed. All relay stations have doubled their horses. Beacon fires burn day and night. Our spies in Fengxiang saw Jin troops dragging out ancient crossbows from storage—weapons captured when Jin destroyed Liao, unused for decades, now re-strung. Most critical: Jin has shifted two main ten-thousand-man units from east of Tongguan to Shaanxi. Tongguan, however, was our Song’s primary defensive stronghold. This means Jin is willing to weaken its eastern defenses against us to hold the west.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He paused, concluding: “The Jin fear the steppe—fear them this deeply.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Has the steppe attacked Jin yet?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No.” Su Shidan shook his head. “Not a single battle. They have absorbed Western Xia and now share a full border with Jin’s western front, yet launched no offensive. What are they doing? Digesting Western Xia. Stationing troops, reorganizing, controlling ironworks, signing treaties, installing puppet regimes, enforcing new systems—all of it, from our first reports of Western Xia’s unrest to now, took less than half a year. In six months, a century-old Western Xia vanished without a trace.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He raised his head, eyes holding a fear he himself had not recognized.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your Excellencies, the Jurchens took Liao in eleven full years. Jin destroyed Northern Song in under two. This Xinming Party swallowed Western Xia in less than six months. No major battles. No sieges. No prolonged sieges—just a treaty, an advisory team, a reorganization plan—and Western Xia was gone.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His words fell like a pebble into a deep pool; the hall fell silent, the pop of candle flames audible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A political party, without weapons, using political infiltration and institutional reform, turned a century-old Western Xia into its puppet and arms factory in six months. No Central Plains dynasty in the past thousand years had ever achieved such a feat. Nor would any in the future.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Minister of Rites Li Bi suddenly spoke, voice trembling: “What… what are they? Is their leader truly a boy of seventeen or eighteen?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Su Shidan shook his head helplessly: “We know too little about their internal structure. We only know their organization is called Xinming Party, their supreme leader is called ‘General Secretary,’ named Zhang Chu’an, and he does appear as a youth. The child beside him, Guo Jing, according to Guizheng defectors, is no mere figurehead or symbol—he is a core decision-maker, involved in military training. Beyond that, we know nothing. Their internal structure, decision-making, goals, troop strength, logistics—all blank.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Blank?” Han Tuozhou’s voice rose sharply, “A force that swallowed the steppe and Western Xia, now facing us across Jin—we don’t even know their origins?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Su Shidan lowered his head in silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Han Tuozhou rose and paced the hall. His strides were long; his boots clacked sharply on the gold bricks, each step like a hammer on every heart in the hall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After walking a dozen paces, he stopped, turned to Zhao Kuo, his usual calm smile gone, replaced by a taut, almost savage resolve.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your Majesty,” he said, voice heavy as iron, “I once thought this force was merely another bandit horde on the steppe. I was wrong.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He admitted his error without flinching, without pause, continuing straight on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The situation is now clear—it is no bandit horde, but an organized, ideologically driven, strategically coherent regime. In six months, they swallowed Western Xia not with cavalry charges, but with political maneuvering. Such an enemy is ten times more terrifying than the Jurchens. They are not attacking Jin now because they are digesting Western Xia. Once digestion is complete, their next target will be Jin—no doubt about it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stepped to the map, slammed his palm down on the Yellow River basin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If they absorb Jin before we act—Your Majesty, Jin holds the Central Plains and Guanzhong, possesses the complete Central Plains defense system and the Yellow River’s natural barrier. If these resources fall into their hands, their cavalry combined with the Central Plains’ grain, Guanzhong’s iron, Hebei’s population—that will be a far more terrifying enemy than the Jurchens were when they destroyed Song. At that point, not only will our northern expedition to recover the Central Plains be impossible, we may not even hold our Huaijiang defensive line.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned, eyes burning with the cold, mad calm of a gambler facing his final hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Therefore, I humbly beg Your Majesty to issue an immediate decree for northern expedition.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hall erupted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Grand Tutor!” Li Bi leapt to his feet, “The Kaixi Northern Expedition was scheduled for next spring—grain, arms, and conscripts are still being mobilized. To advance now risks insufficient preparation—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Insufficient preparation?” Han Tuozhou cut him off, voice like a blade scraping ice, “Minister Li, we are preparing. They are preparing too. We lag one step, they advance one step. We wait for next spring—they won’t wait for us. Western Xia vanished in six months. How long do you think Jin can hold out? A year? Two? When Jin becomes their arms factory and granary, what good will your perfect preparations do?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned to Zhao Kuo, knelt on one knee, clasped his fists, voice ironclad:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your Majesty, I, Han Tuozhou, beg your decree—launch the northern expedition immediately. Advance simultaneously from Lianghuai, Jinghu, and Sichuan. Recover the Central Plains at the fastest possible speed, seize the Yellow River’s natural barrier before that force absorbs Jin, and build a strategic bulwark to stop the steppe cavalry. Opportunity lost is lost forever!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhao Kuo sat on the dragon throne, silent for a long time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Candlelight flickered across his thin face. He looked at Han Tuozhou kneeling before him—the man who had placed him on the throne, now ready to plunge the Song into war—and his lips moved several times, finally uttering only two words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Draft the edict.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The winter of Kaixi Year Two arrived earlier than ever.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When the osmanthus in Lin’an had all fallen, orders for troop movements had already been dispatched. Ferry crossings along the Yangtze operated day and night, transporting grain and supplies; conscript laborers formed endless lines on the roads; forges burned from dusk till dawn, forging arrowheads and horseshoes. The entire Huaijiang front thrummed with tense, feverish energy, like a bowstring pulled to its limit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One thousand seven hundred li away, in Zhongxing Prefecture, on the palace ramparts of Western Xia, a boy in gray military uniform stood in the north wind, gazing down at the ironworks beneath Mount Helan. Furnace fires lit half the night sky; the rhythmic clang of hammers on anvils, like a drumbeat, rolled from the mountain’s foot to the ramparts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind him stood a smaller figure, ten years old, holding a bound booklet, its cover written in neat regular script: “Phase Summary of Western Xia Reorganization Work.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Guo Jing,” Zhang Chu’an said without turning, voice soft, “what do you think Lin’an is doing now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guo Jing thought, then answered seriously: “According to our intelligence station’s assessment, they’re about to launch a northern expedition.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Chu’an smiled, the curve of his lips faint.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Northern expedition,” he murmured, gazing southeast, his eyes piercing the dark night—as if seeing something, or nothing at all—“Let them fight. Jin’s city defenses are strong. Let them chew on hard bones first.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned, took the booklet from Guo Jing’s hands, flipped to a page, and studied it by the rampart’s firelight, his brow slightly furrowed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Penetration progress in Shaanxi is still too slow. Jin’s western defenses are dense. Direct assault is uneconomical. Tell Commissar Chen to accelerate underground party work—we don’t aim to fight Jin, but to seize control of Shaanxi’s grassroots before the Southern Song’s northern army arrives.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guo Jing pulled a stubby charcoal pencil from his pocket and jotted the message into the booklet’s margin. His handwriting was swift and neat—unlike that of a ten-year-old.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The north wind swept across the Gobi, whipping the red flag on the rampart, snapping loudly. The sickle-and-hammer emblem on the flag flickered in the firelight, like a slowly beating heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hammering beneath Mount Helan did not cease all night.\u003C\u002Fp>",2494,"2026-06-20T13:48:22.834Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","8d7035d694c597af877aaadc54fa2176dfff56c64769cbba56b2d728e74641d9","from-special-forces-to-the-multiverse-chapter-166","from-special-forces-to-the-multiverse-chapter-164",205,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Ffrom-special-forces-to-the-multiverse-cover.jpg"]