Chapter 725: Eight-Hundred-Li Urgent Dispatch Startles Luoyang, a Shock of Forty Thousand Heads

Following Hou Wanjing's gaze, Shao Ling also walked slowly to the window.

That aged face wore a shrewd smile that seemed to take the whole world's affairs into its view.

"Lord, rest assured." Shao Ling said lightly, with a sense of watching a fire from across the river, "In my opinion, regarding that northwest battle, whether Gao Ying of Jinyang wins or Yuwen Hu of Chang'an wins, for us Luoyang it's a dog biting another dog—both get fur. As long as they both suffer a double defeat, we gain a hundred benefits with no harm!"

"Oh?" Hou Wanjing did not turn around, merely replied coolly with a question.

Shao Ling cleared her throat, pointed toward the northwest, and explained in detail: "Gao Ying this time has dispatched Crown Prince Gao Xiaoyu to lead the campaign, with veterans like Ku Di Gan assisting. It appears their forces are at peak strength, but in fact it's because the Qi State has been roiled by internal turmoil in recent years. That old brat Gao Ying wants to secure an overwhelming victory to establish the Crown Prince's unshakable prestige, to intimidate the court, and also to showcase Jinyang's military might to the world—and especially to us Luoyang!"

"And over in the Zhou State, Yuwen Hu controls the court; the Guanzhong region is essentially an iron bucket—easy to defend, hard to attack. If the Qi army tries to forcefully take Xiazhou and Lingzhou, they will have to pay an extremely painful price! If the Qi army wins, it will be a pyrrhic victory; Gao Ying's main forces will be exhausted, perhaps needing years to recuperate, and in the short term they will have no strength to come south and trouble us."

Shao Ling paused, a sharp glint flashing in her eyes, and continued: "If the Zhou army wins narrowly, securing the Guanzhong gateway, then Gao Ying's troops will be depleted and his prestige shattered. He will inevitably concentrate all his anger and forces on defending the western front. At that point, Luoyang's pressure will drop sharply, and you, my lord, can use this perfect vacuum to continue demanding provisions from the south and west, quietly expanding the army—from a hundred thousand to one‑hundred‑fifty‑thousand, even two‑hundred‑thousand!"

"Therefore, regardless of the outcome, Luoyang is the biggest winner on this great board!" Shao Ling concluded resolutely.

Standing nearby, the fierce generals Zhu Hun Qi Yuan and Chi Luo Tong exchanged a glance; although they didn't fully grasp the convoluted political calculations, they heard the words "Luoyang is the biggest winner" loud and clear.

Both of them opened their wide, flesh‑filled mouths, letting out a laugh that sounded like a broken gong.

"This makes perfect sense!" Zhu Hun Qi Yuan slapped his chest armor with his fan‑shaped hand, producing a "clank" sound, and shouted excitedly, "Whoever lives or dies, it doesn't matter; it'd be best if that Crown Prince Gao Xiaoyu kid dies beneath the walls of Xiazhou, and Yuwen Hu's troops are smashed into wreckage! Then we'll follow the lord, lead our army across the Yellow River, and seize both families' women and all their gold and silver treasures back to Luoyang!"

Chi Luo Tong also rolled up his fists, his eyes filled with blood‑thirsty fervor: "Lord, as soon as you give the order, this Subordinate General is willing to be the vanguard, guaranteeing we capture Yecheng within half a month, so you can sit upon the emperor's throne!"

For a moment, the atmosphere in the entire Shufang became rather relaxed and feverish, as if the distant throne were now within arm's reach.

Whether the far‑sighted strategists or the muscle‑bound generals, all were immersed in an extreme sense of superiority, watching the tigers fight from the mountain and reaping the fisherman's profit.

Yet the fickleness of worldly affairs often strikes with the deadliest thunder precisely when people feel most self‑righteous.

"Report—!!!"

Just as the people in the Shufang were still laughing, a long, extremely mournful, slightly hoarse and panicked wail suddenly ripped through the quiet of the Luoyang Prince Manor courtyard!

Immediately after, a burst of frantic horse hooves abruptly stopped outside the manor, followed by heavy, chaotic footsteps that rushed heedlessly toward the Shufang.

The outer Bodyguards, apparently aware of the newcomer's identity and the top‑secret cargo, dared not block a single step.

"Bang!"

The heavy nan wood Damen was shoved open from outside with a forceful push, night wind surged in, causing the candles inside the Shufang to flicker wildly, almost extinguishing.

A close‑in Bodyguard dressed in black night‑cloaking gear staggered into the Shufang.

His eyes were blood‑shot, his whole body seemed to collapse; the instant he surged forward, his legs gave way and his knees slammed onto the Blue Bricks with a "thud," making the floor itself seem to tremble.

The Bodyguard could barely catch his breath, his trembling hands raised high a Bamboo Tube sealed tightly with Red Fire Wax Seal, into which three feathers denoting the highest emergency level were inserted.

"Your Majesty! Northwest… Northwest Eight-Hundred-Li Urgent Dispatch!" The Bodyguard's voice, hoarse with extreme thirst and shock, sounded like sandpaper grinding, "The secret lines we buried in Jinyang and Xiazhou… we risked death to bring back this news!"

"Boom!"

That report, like a sudden blunt blow, instantly shattered the previously relaxed, feverish atmosphere in the Shufang.

Zhu Hun Qi Yuan's boisterous laughter abruptly stopped, as if his throat had been suddenly clutched. Shao Ling's fluttering feather fan froze mid‑air, and the shrewd smile on her face hardened completely.

All gazes, in that instant, became like spotlights, fixedly focusing on that Bamboo Tube sealed with Red Fire Wax.

Hou Wanjing's expression shifted slightly; the hands he had kept behind his back clenched into fists, and he strode back to his seat. Without a word of idle talk, he raised a hand, his voice cold and sharp as a blade: "Bring it over!"

The Bodyguard dared no hesitation, crawling and rolling forward, and respectfully, tremblingly handed the top‑secret urgent report into Hou Wanjing's hand.

"Snap!"

Hou Wanjing without hesitation crushed the Red Fire Wax seal, pouring from the Bamboo Tube a roll of Silk Scroll as thin as a cicada's wing.

He swiftly unfurled it, eyes flashing like lightning, scanning ten lines at a glance on the Silk Scroll.

At that moment, the air in the Shufang seemed completely sucked out.

The temperature dropped sharply to freezing.

Whether the strategist Shao Ling or those two fearless warriors, all held their breath, daring not even a breath of air.

They stared fixedly at Hou Wanjing's face, trying to glean any hint of the northwest situation from the lord's subtle expression.

Was it a pyrrhic defeat for the Qi army? Or a narrow victory for the Zhou army? This is an earth‑shattering matter concerning Luoyang's survival over the next ten years!

Yet, after reading the Secret Letter, Hou Wanjing's expression turned extremely bizarre.

He neither felt the anticipated elation at hearing of a double defeat, nor the shock of one side's dominance.

His face seemed to don a rigid human‑skin mask, devoid of any expression, yet his deep eyes narrowed into a dangerously needle‑sharp stare.

Only Shao Ling, who was closest to him, keenly noticed that the lord's fingers gripping the edge of the Silk Scroll had, from excessive force, turned an unhealthy pallid white at the knuckles! Even Hou Wanjing's usually steady, mountain‑like breathing faltered with a brief yet unmistakable heavy pause upon finishing the last line!

This is certainly no ordinary battle report! What is written here has even exceeded the psychological expectations of a schemer like Hou Wanjing!

One breath... two breaths... three breaths...

The suffocating silence spread wildly through the Shufang, as if an invisible giant hand were tightening everyone's hearts bit by bit.

The most hot‑tempered, Zhu Hun Qi Yuan, a restless soul, saw Hou Wanjing linger without a word, as if an old monk had entered meditation, and finally could no longer restrain the hundred claws of anxiety within.

"Wha—"

Zhu Hun Qi Yuan lunged forward a step, his heavy armor clashing violently, producing a harsh metallic screech. He clenched his fists, his urgent voice breaking the dead silence: "Lord! What on earth is happening?! Speak up! Has the northwest finally produced a result?"