Chapter 913: Wealth Moves the Heart, the Abacus Calculates the Foundation

At the third watch of the Yin hour, the iron gate of the Xia Prefecture South Gate was raised only a gap half a person high.

Fifty figures filed in through the gap, each hunched over, carrying bulging sacks on their shoulders, their boot soles wrapped in rags to tread on the stone slabs without a sound.

The garrison standing in the gate tunnel all turned their backs, staring at the wall, not even turning their eyeballs in the direction of the newcomers.

Gao Jiong walked in the center of the team, the mud on his fur coat dried into a layer of gray crust, the skin on his face red and peeling from days of wind and sand, his lips split in three or four places, dried blood mixed with mud smeared upon them.

His steps were steadier than anyone else in the team.

The fifty people passed through the South Gate tunnel and turned into the narrow alley behind the Governor's Office that hung no lanterns; at the end of the alley was a low door covered in sheet iron, behind which stood four personal guards in full iron armor.

The personal guards verified the secret signal and pushed the door open.

The storeroom was underground.

After descending seventeen stone steps, the air became damp and cold; on both stone walls were torches embedded in iron holders, the flames swaying from the wind blowing in from the stair entrance.

Chen Yan was already sitting on the Grand Master's chair that had been moved down into the center of the storeroom.

His black cloak was fastened with a copper button at the collar, the sword at his waist laid beside the chair armrest, one leg crossed over the other, holding a bowl of tea in his hand, the tea still steaming.

He did not look like he had been waiting too long.

Gao Jiong walked to the middle of the storeroom, dropped to one knee, and pressed his right fist against his left chest.

"Subordinate reports, twelve bags of wealth, personnel unharmed, all brought back."

Chen Yan set the tea bowl on the low table beside the chair and lifted his chin.

"Open."

Songqi led the men to line up the twelve sacks on the blue brick floor, bent over, and untied the rope knots at the mouths of the first sacks.

When the sacks were inverted, gold ingots poured out from the mouths and smashed onto the floor tiles with a dull thud, rolling out one after another, each the size of an adult man's fist, the surface cast with Rouran script stamps.

The second sack contained white silver, cast into long strips, stacked neatly; when poured out, the silver bars collided with a crisp clatter.

When the third sack was untied, the light of the torches was reflected back by the contents, casting a luster onto the stone walls of the storeroom.

Pearls.

Pearls rolled out one by one from the cowhide pouch, the large ones the size of a thumb nail, the small ones the size of soybeans, each round and smooth, spinning on the rough blue brick floor.

Mixed in with the pearls were jade stones, the emerald green and milky white fat colors stirred together, with several thumb-thick gold bead chains pressed underneath.

After all twelve sacks were emptied, a small mountain had piled up on the blue brick floor, gold and silver mixed with the luster of pearls and jade, the torchlight falling upon it and bouncing back as dancing bright spots all over the room.

Zhang Wenqian stood behind Chen Yan's chair, not saying a word from beginning to end, but his eyeballs had not moved from that pile of things since the first sack was opened.

His right hand had already pulled that copper abacus from his sleeve, his thumb resting on the beads, having rested there for a long time without moving, because his fingers were trembling.

"Zhang Wenqian."

Chen Yan's voice came from the chair.

Zhang Wenqian's throat went dry.

"Subordinate is here."

"Calculate."

As this word fell, Zhang Wenqian's thumb finally moved.

The beads clattered in the copper frame, moving row by row; Zhang Wenqian's lips moved to the rhythm of the beads without making a sound, his eyes scanning from gold ingots to silver bars and then to pearls and jade, flipping a round of beads with every scan.

The storeroom was quiet, leaving only the sound of abacus beads hitting the copper frame and the occasional crackle of the burning torches.

Gao Jiong was still kneeling on the ground, not having risen.

Zhang Wenqian's abacus stopped.

When he looked up, the light in his eyes was brighter than the torches in the storeroom.

"Zhuguo!"

Chen Yan looked at him.

Zhang Wenqian held the abacus forward, his voice carrying an uncontrollable tremor.

"Gold ingots valued at eleven thousand guan, white silver valued at six thousand guan, pearls, jade, and gold chains valued at over seven thousand guan, totaling over twenty-four thousand guan!"

His voice grew louder as he spoke.

"This money... Zhuguo, this money not only covers the cost of the military equipment previously given to the Qifu tribe, but there is more than enough left over."

Chen Yan's fingers tapped on the chair armrest once.

"How much is left?"

Zhang Wenqian's abacus clicked twice more.

"Subordinate roughly calculates, after deducting the cost of military equipment, the remaining money is enough to support the full military expenditure of the Xia Prefecture army for three years, with a surplus."

He could no longer stand still at this point, walking forward two steps, his eyes fixed on the small mountain of gold and silver on the ground.

"Zhuguo, with this money, the resettlement food for the thirty thousand refugees outside the city is not a problem at all; we won't need to transfer a year's worth of rations from elsewhere."

Chen Yan did not respond to this.

Zhang Wenqian's voice rose another half-degree.

"And the Weaponry Bureau, subordinate has always wanted to mention to Zhuguo, we can expand two more large branch workshops outside Tongwan City; the batch of old Qi State craftsmen screened from the refugees have exquisite skills, and if we use them all, the production of heavy armor and horse spears can more than double."

"Is the money enough?"

Zhang Wenqian tucked the abacus into his sleeve and slapped his thigh.

"Enough! With these twenty-four thousand guan as a base, the capital for building the workshops is more than enough; all three branch workshops can be built."

Chen Yan's gaze withdrew from the pile of gold and silver on the ground and fell upon Gao Jiong, who was still kneeling.

"Get up."

Gao Jiong stood up, both hands hanging at his sides.

"The errand was handled well."

Chen Yan picked up the tea bowl from the low table and took a sip, his voice as flat as if he were saying the weather was fine today.

"Reward you with one hundred taels of gold."

Gao Jiong bent his waist, bending lower than when he was kneeling.

"Subordinate dares not claim credit; handling matters for Zhuguo is subordinate's duty."

Chen Yan set the tea bowl down and stood up from the Grand Master's chair.

When he stood up, the hem of his cloak slid off the chair surface, swaying twice beside his boots.

He did not look at the pile of gold and silver on the ground again, turning to walk toward the depths of the storeroom.

At the very back of the storeroom, leaning against the stone wall, was a large desk three steps square, upon which was a sand table piled with wooden boards and sand.

The terrain on the sand table was the full view of the grassland; to the north was the location of the Rouran Royal Court, to the west was the territory of the Turks, to the south were marked the border lines of Xia Prefecture and Yin Prefecture, with mountains, rivers, and cities in each place clearly marked with mud blocks and small flags of different colors.

Chen Yan walked to the front of the sand table and stood still, his gaze sweeping from the south of the sand table to the north.

Zhang Wenqian followed, standing to his right rear.

Gao Jiong stood to his left rear.

Chen Yan drew his sword from his waist.

The sword tip hovered above the sand table for a breath, then landed on the location representing the Rouran Royal Court, stabbing into the mud block.

"Nuhe Ti's twenty thousand men and Qifugu's four thousand suicide warriors fought for an entire night; it is true that they ate up Qifugu's men in the pocket formation, but the meat bitten off was not insignificant."

Chen Yan's sword tip drew a circle at the location of the Royal Court.

"The men he brought back will not exceed fifteen thousand; among these fifteen thousand, wounded soldiers account for at least thirty percent; his short-term mobile force has been slashed by more than half compared to before the war."

Zhang Wenqian pulled his abacus from his sleeve again and clicked it twice.

"Fifteen thousand minus thirty percent wounded, those who can still fight are only a little over ten thousand."

Chen Yan's sword tip pulled out from the location of the Royal Court and pointed toward the direction of the Turks in the west.

"That wolf of the Turks in the west has been eyeing Rouran for more than a day or two; once the news that Nuhe Ti's vitality is greatly damaged reaches Moheduo's ears, it is impossible for him not to have ideas."

Gao Jiong's voice cut in from the left rear, carrying his usual coldness.

"Zhuguo means that Rouran is now a piece of fat meat that everyone wants to take a bite of."

Chen Yan sheathed his sword, his right hand reaching out from under his cloak and making a closing gesture above the sand table.

"This Duke does not want to take a bite."

He turned to face Gao Jiong and Zhang Wenqian.

"This Duke wants to swallow this piece of meat whole."

Zhang Wenqian's abacus stopped.

"Zhuguo wants to send troops?"

Chen Yan walked back to the Grand Master's chair and sat down, the hem of his cloak hanging on both sides of the chair.

"Strike while he is sick, take his life; Nuhe Ti was bitten by Qifugu and has not yet recovered his blood; the Royal Court is empty to its lowest point in ten years; this window period will not be too long; in two months at most, he will be able to nurse the wounded back to health and reorganize them into the establishment."

Zhang Wenqian tucked the abacus back into his sleeve, a look of worry appearing on his face.

"Zhuguo, sending a large army consumes huge amounts of grain and grass; that is one point. There is another point, we have no name to send troops; the Court side... the mouths of the world cannot be blocked."

The corners of Chen Yan's mouth pulled to one side.

"Rules are set by the strong."

His fingers tapped on the chair armrest twice.

"Where this Duke's blade points, that is where righteousness lies."

Zhang Wenqian's lips moved, swallowing the words behind.

Gao Jiong stood to the side without making a sound, both hands hanging at his sides, that pair of eyes reflecting a luster under the torchlight that was hard to describe.

Rapid footsteps came from the stone steps of the storeroom.

Everyone looked toward the stair entrance.

Songqi stumbled down from the stone steps.

The clothes on his body were the same set from when he crawled out of the secret tunnel, mud and sweat mixed together to form a crust, the mud on his face only wiped off half, the other half still looking like it had just been dug out from underground.

He rushed to Chen Yan and smashed onto the blue bricks on one knee, holding both hands high above his head, clutching a bamboo tube, the fire wax seal on the bamboo tube stained with a few drops of already dried brown traces.

"Zhuguo."

Songqi was panting so hard his lungs felt like they were being squeezed out of his throat, his throat carrying a salty fishy smell from the blood rising up, his words coming out intermittently.

"Urgent intelligence from the Royal Court dark agent, highest level; the other party sacrificed three lives to send it out."

The torches in the storeroom crackled, everyone's gaze falling on that bamboo tube.

Chen Yan's fingertips still rested on the Grand Master's chair armrest, lifting his eyes to sweep over Songqi's mud-stained face, asking.

"What intelligence is worth sacrificing three dark agents, tell me slowly."

Zhang Wenqian stood to the side, twisting the fabric of his sleeve with his fingertips, speaking first.

"The last time we sacrificed three dark agents to send a highest-level letter was three years ago when Rouran knocked on the border; could it be that there is a variable in the Royal Court that we didn't calculate?"

Gao Jiong leaned against the pillar beside him, sneering upon hearing this.

"What variable could there be? With the remnant soldiers Nuhe Ti brought back, even if he gathered all the herdsmen in the Royal Court who could mount a horse, he couldn't gather twenty thousand men who could fight; what kind of waves could he stir up?"

Chen Yan did not respond to the two men, leaning forward from the chair and reaching out to take the bamboo tube.

His thumb pressed on the fire wax seal and broke it with force, the fire wax shattering into two pieces and falling onto his lap; inside the bamboo tube was a roll of sheepskin.

Chen Yan pulled out the sheepskin and unfolded it.

The torchlight flickered on the surface of the sheepskin, the ink marks densely arranged, drawing the distribution of camps and patrol routes, marking the troop numbers of each camp with different symbols.

Zhang Wenqian couldn't help but lean forward, staring at the marks on the sheepskin and asking.

"Zhuguo, what is written on it, could it be that Moheduo has sent troops to attack Rouran ahead of time?"

Gao Jiong also straightened his body, his voice carrying a bit of urgency.

"If Moheduo really moved without greeting, our previously set deployment would have to be moved forward; otherwise, if the Turks occupy the Royal Court and we then make a long-distance raid, we would have to face the Turkic cavalry head-on, and the attrition would be great."

When Chen Yan's eyes swept over those numbers, his fingers tightened by a fraction on the edge of the sheepskin.

He lifted his head.

"The latest troop deployment map of the Rouran Royal Court."

Zhang Wenqian leaned forward half a step, his eyes fixed on the marks on the sheepskin, whispering the numbers on it.

"This marking is detailed; even the time for each camp to change shifts and the location of the water wells are marked; I'm afraid this dark agent is buried in Nuhe Ti's central army tent."

Gao Jiong also turned his head to take a look, his cold eyes lingering on the numbers for three breaths, reporting the numbers.

"Personal Guard Camp, full establishment of six hundred, currently just over three hundred."

He lifted his eyes to look at Chen Yan, his voice carrying a bit of surprise.

"The Personal Guard Camp we previously scouted was Nuhe Ti's direct line, all old soldiers who had fought for ten years with him; how could they have lost nearly half after fighting Qifugu?"

Chen Yan did not respond, flipping the sheepskin over; the back had even more detailed annotations, the establishment numbers and casualty ratios of each camp around Nuhe Ti's central army tent written clearly.

Personal Guard Camp, full establishment of six hundred, currently just over three hundred.

Vanguard Camp, full establishment of three thousand, currently less than two thousand.

The numbers of the camps on the left and right wings were also discounted remnant numbers.

Zhang Wenqian pointed his finger at the numbers on the sheepskin, calculating them one by one, his voice growing heavier as he calculated.

"Left camp full establishment of two thousand two, currently nine hundred seven; right camp full establishment of two thousand one, currently eight hundred one; rear camp auxiliary soldiers full establishment of four thousand, this is marked as currently one thousand two; adding all these numbers up, those who can take up weapons to go to battle are not even six thousand."

Gao Jiong took over the conversation.

"Previously we calculated that he brought back fifteen thousand, wounded soldiers accounting for thirty percent, and those who could fight were still a little over ten thousand; now according to the numbers on this map, the real combat soldiers don't even add up to six thousand; this isn't thirty percent wounded, this is nearly sixty percent lost."

He turned his head to look at Songqi, who was kneeling on the ground, asking.

"What else did the brother who sent the intelligence say? After Nuhe Ti returned to the Royal Court, was there really no precaution?"

Songqi caught his breath and hurriedly opened his mouth to reply.

"Reporting to Commander Gao, the brother who sent the letter said that after Nuhe Ti returned to the Royal Court, the celebration banquet was only held for half a day; in the middle of the night, he called the generals of each camp into the central tent and scolded them for half the night, saying that when the Vanguard Camp fought Qifugu, they retreated half a mile during the battle, and he beheaded three centurions on the spot to show the public."

Zhang Wenqian followed up and asked.

"Then what about the city defense and patrols, tighter or looser than before the war?"

Songqi said.

"The number of patrols is double what it was before, but they are all new soldiers just caught; many of them don't even have complete armor, and the horse sabers in their hands are still gathered from herdsmen's homes; when patrolling the camp in the second half of the night, some people were leaning against the tents dozing off; when the brother who sent the letter left the city, he touched two guard posts, and those new soldiers couldn't even draw their sabers smoothly."

Gao Jiong laughed upon hearing this, looking at Chen Yan.

"Zhuguo, I said the previously calculated casualty numbers were conservative; the four thousand suicide warriors Qifugu brought were all going with the intention of perishing together; fighting with Nuhe Ti's men for an entire night, how could they only bite off thirty percent of the meat? Now it seems Nuhe Ti is puffing up his face to look fat, returning to the Royal Court and stubbornly maintaining the posture of having won."

Zhang Wenqian also nodded.

"Yes, if he really had fifteen thousand troops, he would have long ago clearly displayed the casualty numbers to shock each department; why would he hide it, not even daring to hold more celebration banquets, just fearing that each department would see he was empty and develop rebellious hearts."

Chen Yan slowly placed the sheepskin on his knees, his gaze passing through the torchlight of the storeroom and falling on the sand table in the distance.

The small flag inserted at the location of the Rouran Royal Court on the sand table was swayed by the wind.

The corners of his mouth moved.

"Nuhe Ti thinks he won."

He stood up, rolled up the sheepskin and clutched it in his hand, walking toward the sand table, his boots treading on the blue bricks with a dull and steady sound.

"He beheaded the retreating subordinates, filled the vacancies, held a celebration banquet, and felt he had sat firmly in the position of the grassland alliance leader, waiting to nurse his wounds for two months, train the new soldiers, and then turn back to settle the border accounts with us."

Zhang Wenqian followed behind him and walked over, opening his mouth to take the conversation.

"According to the posture on this deployment map, let alone giving him two months, even if you gave him half a year, he wouldn't be able to recover; new soldiers need training, armor needs forging, grain and grass need gathering; the night he fought Qifugu, he exhausted all the arrows the Royal Court had saved for three years; now he is just an empty shell, collapsing at a push."

Gao Jiong also walked over, standing on the other side of the sand table, his hand pressing on the edge of the sand table.

"Then what are we waiting for? Point out twenty thousand cavalry now, each person carrying three replacement horses, and we can reach the Royal Court city walls in three days of day and night travel; his new soldiers who can't even wear armor won't even be able to guard the city gates."

Chen Yan did not take his request for battle, turning his head to look at Zhang Wenqian.

"The two things you mentioned before, grain and grass consumption, and the inability to block the Court's mouth because of having no name to send troops, now we have accurate numbers."

Zhang Wenqian pulled the abacus from his sleeve, clicked the beads twice, and opened his mouth to reply.

"Reporting to Zhuguo, previously we prepared grain and grass according to three months of war; now if we fight a rapid raid, it will take at most one month to take the Royal Court; the grain and grass are not only enough, but thirty percent will remain, enough to pacify the nearby herdsmen after taking the Royal Court."

He paused, then continued.

"As for the matter of having no name to send troops, it is even easier to handle; we submit a military report to the Court, saying that Rouran cavalry plundered the border, burned three villages, killed the common people, and snatched livestock; we sent troops to protect the border people; those civil officials in the capital sitting in the Golden Throne Hall don't even know which way the grassland wind blows; the military report is submitted by us, and apart from approving it, they can't say half a word of 'no'."

Gao Jiong hummed to the side.

"Even if they have opinions, what can they do? Once we place the Rouran Khan's seal on the Golden Throne Hall, they will be lining up to claim credit for Zhuguo, not daring to say half a word of 'wrong'."

Chen Yan's fingers landed on the location representing the Royal Court on the sand table, his fingertips rubbing the city mark made of mud blocks.

"Nuhe Ti is now guarding against the Turks, guarding against rebellions in each department, but he didn't calculate that we would stab the heart of his Royal Court directly at this time."

He pressed the rolled-up sheepskin onto the small flag of the Royal Court, his voice not high, but landing solidly.

"He doesn't know he is already a fat sheep stripped of its wool." ===== CHAPTER 914 =====