Chapter 196: Kidnapping

Chaotic snowflakes fell through the deep night sky; lanterns hung low on the ground emitted a dim yellow glow, like spotlights on a stage, illuminating the playful dance of the snow.

Snow piled up to the ankles; groups of three or four hardened men, swords in hand, shivered as they chatted while patrolling.

This place: Hejian, Fucheng, a roadside inn.

At the entrance, a group of hardened men shoved out three guests who had checked in.

One man lay on the ground, feeling the cold in his hands, his neck stiff with defiance: "Why are you throwing us out?"

The lead man said nothing; he slashed low, the blade slicing across the man's throat, severing the carotid artery—hot blood spurted out, melting the snow and forming crimson blossoms.

The two others, seeing this man kill without warning, were terrified, wishing they could sprout wings, fleeing in utter panic, urine and feces streaming down their legs.

Far off, behind a haystack, Shen Lian, Lu Jianxing, and Jin Yichuan pulled their heads back.

Yes, still Shen Lian. The Embroidered Uniform Guard and Eastern Depot's power meant little beyond the passes; within the passes, especially near Jingcheng, they caught targets with perfect precision. Shen Lian had failed to find Zhou Miaoxuan, didn't know where to go, wandered aimlessly for barely two days, and was captured again.

The result of capture was naturally dire—he was taken to the Zhao Prison, tortured to reveal the whereabouts of others. Even Shen Lian, a hardened man, couldn't endure it. He kept repeating: he didn't know, and described only some features of those elite troops. Not because he wanted to withhold more—he genuinely didn't know more. After days of repeated torture, his answers never varied, and thus they deemed him credible.

Perhaps to show this man who once claimed he'd spare his life what "thunder and dew" truly meant—both are the emperor's grace? For reasons unknown, Zhu Youjian still spared Shen Lian's life, as in the original plot, and reinstated him as a squad leader.

Here, one must note: over two months had passed. Zhu Youjian and Wei Zhongxian had indeed learned that the person was with Wang Yan. Based on reports from the beaten Embroidered Uniform Guards and Jingying troops, combined with Shen Lian's testimony, it was certain beyond doubt: those hundreds of well-equipped soldiers were Wang Yan's men.

Wei Zhongxian was somewhat better off, for over the past two years Wang Yan had consistently sent him lavish gifts; though this act was somewhat offensive, the silver made it forgivable.

Zhu Youjian could not tolerate it—wasn't this a complete disregard for him? A frontier general dared openly send hundreds of elite troops into the passes? What was this? An act of provocation, an act of rebellion. If he could send men to ambush Wei Zhongxian's Jingying troops, could he not send men to ambush Zhu Youjian's own? Could he not send even more troops to storm his Forbidden City?

Without exaggeration, after learning the truth, Zhu Youjian couldn't sleep for three days…

But no matter how furious he was, no matter how much he studied, it was utterly useless. He hadn't even figured out the man right beside him—Wei Zhongxian—so how could he study General Wang, who held great weight? Besides, three hundred of them had defeated his three thousand Jingying troops—how could he dare act rashly?

And there were the years of floods, droughts, snowstorms across the land, and the imperial treasury so empty it could host galloping horses—what could he use to study Wang Yan?

Through political maneuvering? Through open strategy? Wang Yan had already sent troops into the passes—what strategy could he possibly devise? Besides, this incident couldn't even be brought into the open—he had no legitimate pretext to confront Wang Yan.

Moreover, this was the critical moment of standoff with the Jianzhou Jurchens. Past experience had proven that the combination of Man Gui, Wang Yan, and the Liaodong civil-military officials worked well—he dared not act recklessly.

So he had no choice but to swallow this anger, preparing to lie on brushwood and taste gall, slowly rectifying Liaodong, pursuing it gradually. Regardless of anything, he must flay this Wang surname alive to relieve his burning hatred.

They pulled their heads back and exchanged glances.

"Wei Zhongxian must be in this inn."

As he spoke, Shen Lian pulled out a signal arrow, ready to fire.

Lu Jianxing blocked him: "Don't fire the signal arrow."

"You don't seriously think the three of us can handle this alone?"

"This task fell to us, but many in the government office are jealous. The Hundred-Man Captain isn't happy either. We can't be sure none of our own are their moles. If they sabotage us, we won't even survive the return."

Shen Lian eyed Lu Jianxing suspiciously: "Aren't you just afraid someone will steal the credit?"

Hearing this, Lu Jianxing glanced at Jin Yichuan, who remained silent, then spoke bluntly: "Brother, haven't you had enough of this miserable life? We've no silver, no connections—only opportunity. Catch it, and we turn our fate around."

Shen Lian met Lu Jianxing's gaze, then turned to the silent Jin Yichuan: "Yichuan, what do you say?"

"Huh? I think…" Jin Yichuan froze, startled to be dragged into this—he glanced at the two and opened his mouth to speak.

At that moment, a rapid clatter of footsteps drew near. All three looked up to see a troop racing toward them, swiftly surrounding the inn.

A man who clearly led them, accompanied by a small squad, halted before them and addressed Lu Jianxing: "I think what you said is right—you must seize every opportunity."

Meanwhile, Wei Zhongxian's men inside the inn heard the commotion, saw unfamiliar troops, and without hesitation drew their blades and charged. Immediately, a barrage of gunfire erupted, punctuated by intermittent screams of "Aaah!"

Shen Lian recognized the familiar tactics and familiar face masks—he jolted, fired his crossbow arrow, and the signal arrow shot skyward, broadcasting their location to other Embroidered Uniform Guards.

The leader looked up at the exploding signal arrow, then down at Shen Lian, shaking his head in disbelief: "I saved your life last time—this is how you repay me?"

Shen Lian chuckled awkwardly: "I didn't mean to fire it—I just saw you…"

"Excited, right? I understand." The leader nodded, cutting him off: "You're one of them—why summon your own brothers here to die?"

Before Shen Lian could reply, the leader turned to Lu Jianxing: "Our lord says you're capable—would you consider joining us?"

Lu Jianxing bowed, stunned: "Thank you for your favor, but I…"

"Don't refuse yet. You won't kill Wei Zhongxian tonight—fail the mission, and you'll be dead anyway. Take your time to think. Opportunity doesn't wait."

With that, the leader and his men walked toward the inn, where gunfire was fading.

Inside the inn, Wei Ting and the remaining loyal bodyguards formed a circle, shielding Wei Zhongxian, who sat drinking.

The leader entered, bowed slightly: "Eunuch, you're in fine spirits—unmoved even as Mount Tai collapses before you. Truly, a great man of Great Ming."

Hearing this, Wei Zhongxian, who had been drinking with his back turned, spun around and glared at the leader: "Mount Tai? Do you even deserve to name it?"

The leader shrugged, unfazed, smiling as he bowed: "No need for words. The situation is clear to you—come with us."

"Whose man are you?"

"You'll know soon enough." The leader waved dismissively. They were the butcher's knife; Wei Zhongxian, no matter how powerful, was still meat. Talking nonsense was pointless. Had his lord not ordered him to treat him with courtesy, he'd have been bundled into a sack long ago.

The surrounding soldiers, seeing the signal, pulled ropes from behind their backs and, with guns pressed to skulls, bound every man outside the circle tightly. Then they dragged the struggling captives away, leaving a clear path before Wei Zhongxian. The leader stepped aside, gesturing: "After you, Eunuch."

Wei Zhongxian took a sip of wine, then turned to look at the table covered with cloth: "Bring me the gold and silver notes on the table."

The leader gave a glance to the man beside Wei Zhongxian.

The soldier nodded, stepped forward, and lifted the cloth—golden brilliance blazed into view, blinding everyone present.

Seeing his men stunned, the leader roared: "What are you gaping at? Eyes as shallow as a puddle? You think you'll live long enough to spend it? Move!"

The soldiers near the table snapped to attention, swarming forward, stuffing gold into the linings of their leather armor.

The leader nodded in satisfaction, then turned back to Wei Zhongxian, repeating with greater emphasis: "After you, Eunuch."

Wei Zhongxian smiled indifferently, then suddenly stiffened, locking eyes with the leader: "You're Wang Yan's men."

The leader paused: "You'll know soon enough."

Wei Zhongxian, hands behind his back, strolled casually toward the stairs: "Never thought—in just two years, this boy has risen to such power. Fate is truly cruel… old, old…"

He had seen the flicker in the leader's eyes—how could he not be certain it was Wang Yan?

Under normal circumstances, or even most circumstances, he wouldn't have suspected Wang Yan. But two months ago, he'd been publicly humiliated—Wang Yan's audacity was unforgettable.

Add to that: his own band of mercenaries were no match for these men. Of all forces he'd heard of recently with such combat power, only Wang Yan's fit. Besides, his reputation still loomed—few in Great Ming would dare kidnap Wei Zhongxian. Only Wang Yan, with prior precedent, matched every detail.

Outside, the leader had his men escort Wei Zhongxian onto a carriage, glanced at the group of Jin Yi Wei galloping toward them from afar, then walked up to Lu Jianxing and said, "Have you decided? Your time is running out."

Lu Jianxing bowed and said, "My lord, I'll go with you. But what about my two brothers?"

All three of them were old bachelors with no family; this mission was clearly doomed, and returning meant certain death anyway—better to just go with these people.

"The two of them… my lord gave no orders. I'm sorry—we can't help." The leader shook his head and told Shen Lian and Jin Yichuan, who looked disappointed, "But you two needn't worry—none of these arriving Jin Yi Wei will escape. We'll burn them all to ash afterward. With your skills, this vast empire is yours for the taking."

Without waiting for the three brothers to say their goodbyes, he grabbed his sword and spear and charged straight at the incoming Jin Yi Wei.

This time they came with three hundred men; the Jin Yi Wei were only a few dozen—Lu Jianxing's own men. Even if they had special skills, under their spears they were useless, slaughtered like children at play.

After a volley of gunfire, a group trotted over to finish off the wounded, dragged the bodies back to the inn, piled them with the corpses of Wei Zhongxian's former men, poured oil over them all, and set the whole place ablaze.

Then the group swiftly departed with Wei Zhongxian, Lu Jianxing, and the others, vanishing into the distance.

Only Shen Lian and Jin Yichuan remained, staring at each other in long, silent stillness…

…………

Aside from returning briefly in early November to rest, deliver captured heads and warhorses, and naturally take Ding Baiying, he had not returned until late December—just days before the New Year—when he finally came back to Jinzhou City.

Over these two months, Wang Yan achieved all his objectives without issue.

A detachment sent to sabotage the Later Jin had marched from Guangning all the way to Changchun in the rear, helping Hong Taiji train his troops in the bitter cold. They didn't just slaughter villages—they utterly destroyed the small towns already built, wiping out all prior efforts. In these two months alone, they collected over two thousand heads.

This destructive campaign threw the once-stable Later Jin into chaos again; Hong Taiji spent this winter cursing Wang Yan's name.

The towns they destroyed were not just abandoned—they left behind widows and orphans, all banner people, whom Hong Taiji now had to rescue and resettle. From north to south, there were no fewer than thirty or forty such towns. How much silver? How much grain and supplies would that require? Already, the tens of thousands of troops tied down chasing Wang Yan were a massive drain—now add tens of thousands of refugees, and the material burden became enormous.

As for the impact on the Han civilians who had been prisoners there, Wang Yan could only say he was sorry. But their original condition was already dire; now their former masters suffered the same fate, perhaps they could feel a sliver of warmth in this freezing land.

He did rescue Han civilians—yes—but with only a thousand men, constantly evading tens of thousands of pursuers, he could only bring back scattered groups.

Wang Yan moved north along the Mongol tribes near his path. Those who had submitted to Hong Taiji were irrelevant—he simply switched allegiance to General Wang. Those who submitted received supplies, military support next year, and purchases of beef, mutton, wool, and more to improve their lives. Those who refused? The men were killed; the women, children, cattle, sheep, horses—some were given as rewards to the next tribe that surrendered, others sent back to Jinzhou by the Mongols themselves.

Along this path, by modern political boundaries, he now controlled the eastern Mongol tribes of Inner Mongolia; the Later Jin's map had shrunk back to Northeast China.

Hong Taiji knew of Wang Yan's actions—but sent no troops to punish these turncoats.

On one hand, Wang Yan's men had caused far greater destruction this year than last, leaving Hong Taiji powerless to launch an expedition. Winter campaigns demanded far heavier logistics than any other season—he had barely enough to begin with. What could he possibly send?

On the other hand, he despised the Mongol tribes. He could defeat them once, he could defeat them twice. Verbal submission meant nothing; when his iron hooves came, those who resisted would die.

Hong Taiji was indeed a strong ruler when Wang Yan was absent—such confidence was necessary—but too much confidence was dangerous, because Wang Yan was coming… and next year, he would station troops.

Letting Ding Baiying gently tie his hair, dress him, and wrap him in his thick fur coat, Wang Yan greeted her, smiled, and stepped out the door.

He could guarantee that the dead Lu Wenzhao now occupied only a tiny corner of Ding Baiying's heart—and even that tiny corner wouldn't last long.

He mounted his horse and rode straight to the governor's office, where his senior officers and a few defected civil officials waited. He had only returned yesterday; today he would learn the full details of the past two months.

Seeing Wang Yan enter, the group huddled around the fire scattered quickly: "My lord."

Wang Yan nodded and sat at the front: "Sit down. Tell me what's happened."

Sun Fugui, without hesitation, spoke first: "My lord, our army currently…"

He now managed military logistics and supplies; another civil official handled civilian supplies. Other officers handled training, recruitment, garrison duties, and so on, each with their own responsibilities.

As for civilian affairs, though Wang Yan had overseen coordination, his territory was under martial law—everything was military.

He received reports on all matters: supply logistics, existing trade progress, squeezing profits from traitorous merchants, military households promoted to frontline troops, recruitment of new military households, troop training progress, territorial development, and more. Wang Yan now had a clear understanding of his strength.

Progress wasn't great. Civilian projects were impossible in this bitter winter—everyone was hibernating. Army expansion depended entirely on training; more troops without proper training were useless—it couldn't be rushed.

Other supplies were manageable. With no major projects beyond feeding the army and keeping tens of thousands of civilian households above subsistence, expenditures remained low. By spring, he expected to have accumulated substantial reserves. Next year, this place would look entirely different.

After hearing the reports, Wang Yan turned to Sun Fugui: "The New Year is coming. Have you prepared the annual gifts for the Liaodong civil-military officials and the court?"

"Don't worry, my lord. We sent them according to last year's standards—the convoy departed yesterday and will finish before the New Year."

"Good. I trust your work." Wang Yan said. "What about supplies for our soldiers and the civilian households for the New Year?"

"For the army, easy. But for over forty thousand civilian households? We can't produce much in such a short time."

Wang Yan waved his hand: "For the army, follow last year's standard. For civilians… no need for luxury. Just make sure everyone gets meat and a full meal. This year is enough. Next year we'll have more to do—and we're still tight on resources."

"Yes, my lord."

"Alright. Dismissed."

Seeing Sun Fugui didn't leave, Wang Yan frowned: "Something else?"

"My lord, didn't you forget about Eunuch Wei?"

"He's rich as sin—I couldn't forget him. How's he been these past months?"

"He's doing splendidly," Sun Fugui said. "All the new luxuries from your back quarters were delivered to him. Every day, his adopted daughter serves him—he doesn't even mind the cold, wandering all over town and countryside. That man's body? He'll live for years yet."

Powerholders who lose authority decay rapidly. Wei Zhongxian was already sixty this year—yet according to Sun Fugui, he seemed untouched, living quite comfortably?

"Let's go meet our Great Ming's Nine-Thousand-Year-Old."

Saying this, Wang Yan rose and walked out…