Chapter 914: Insight into the Death Point, Gao Jiong Offers a Poisonous Plan, Internal Strife in the Royal Court, Ba Dou Starts a Dis

Chen Yan laid the blood-stained sheepskin deployment map flat on the desk beside the sand table.

The bowl of tea and several official documents originally placed on the desk were pushed to one side by him with one hand, and he didn't even look as the official document paper slid off the corner of the desk.

His fingers landed on the location representing Nuhe Ti's central army tent on the map, slowly drawing a circle along the annotations of the surrounding camps.

"Personal Guard Camp full establishment of six hundred, currently just over three hundred, nearly half wiped out by that night of Qifugu's charge."

His fingers moved outward by one circle.

"The guard strength on the two wings of the central army was also drawn away to fill the pocket formation, the numbers marked on the map are forty percent less than before the war."

Zhang Wenqian leaned to the edge of the desk, his eyes sticking to those numbers as he looked.

"Zhuguo, does this mean the area around Nuhe Ti's central army tent is now at its weakest?"

Chen Yan's fingers pointed three times at the several curved annotations representing the shift change lines on the map.

"It's not just weak; his entire defense system has cracks."

He turned to face Gao Jiong and Zhang Wenqian.

"The Personal Guard Camp lost half, and one-third of the remaining half are wounded; the time interval for shift changes is nearly double what it was before the war, the patrol coverage area has shrunk by thirty percent, and the grain and grass storage points have been reduced from four to two."

Gao Jiong stood on the other side of the desk, both hands crossed on his chest, that pair of eyes lifting from the deployment map to look at Chen Yan.

"Zhuguo has already seen through Rouran's underpants."

Chen Yan ignored the wording of this sentence, withdrawing his fingers from the deployment map.

"Mobile force less than fifteen thousand, wounded soldiers account for thirty percent, grain and grass consumption spent more than half during the long-distance expedition and not yet recovered, trust from various affiliated tribes has begun to waver because of the rumors of the camp slaughter order."

He rolled up the deployment map from the desk and stuffed it into the secret pocket on the inside of his cloak.

"This is the current Rouran."

The corners of Gao Jiong's mouth moved; the amplitude was very small, but the torchlight in the storeroom illuminated it very clearly.

He walked forward one step.

"Subordinate has a plan that can make Rouran fall into chaos before the large army presses on the border."

Chen Yan leaned back into the Grand Master's chair, his two legs crossed together.

"Speak."

Gao Jiong's voice dropped half a degree, grinding out word by word from between his teeth.

"Not many people know about the camp slaughter order Nuhe Ti issued against the Qifu tribe, but subordinate can make everyone know."

Zhang Wenqian's eyebrows twisted toward the middle by a section.

Gao Jiong did not look at him, his gaze fixed only on Chen Yan.

"Among the thirty thousand refugees outside the city, many are herdsmen who ran out from the small tribes around the Qifu tribe's camp; these people are now circled in the fences waiting to sign contracts and receive porridge, and the hatred in their hearts toward the Rouran Royal Court is burning."

"You want to use these people?"

Gao Jiong's voice dropped another tiny bit.

"Subordinate wants to have Mingjing Si people mix into the refugees, pick a few loose-lipped ones, and stuff a piece of news into their ears."

"What news?"

"Just say that Nuhe Ti didn't just issue a camp slaughter order against the Qifu tribe; after returning to the Royal Court, he also wants to take action against all non-direct affiliated tribes; any tribe that has had dealings with Qifugu, had trade, or even just didn't immediately stand in line after the Chaotic Stone Valley, has all been listed on the cleaning list."

Zhang Wenqian's abacus showed a section from his sleeve and then shrank back.

"This news is fake."

Gao Jiong gave him a look.

"What does it matter if it's fake? Whether those affiliated tribes believe it is the key."

He turned back to look at Chen Yan.

"Nuhe Ti had already lost trust in each department because of Qifugu's rebellion; in these few months, several tribes that defected to Qifugu left; Nuhe Ti knows that thorn in his heart better than anyone. Subordinate only needs to stab that thorn deeper, and those affiliated tribes that are still watching will panic."

Chen Yan's fingers tapped three times on the chair armrest, the rhythm even.

"After panicking, then what?"

"After panicking, they have two paths."

Gao Jiong stretched out two fingers.

"One path is to run quickly, taking their tribes to run far away before Nuhe Ti takes action, running to the edge of the grassland, running to the Turkic side, running anywhere, anyway not staying in the Royal Court's control range."

He withdrew one finger.

"The other path is to gather together and huddle for resistance, just like Qifugu did at the beginning; a few small tribes gathering together can also gather a few thousand people, not enough to fight the Royal Court but enough to add chaos for Nuhe Ti."

Chen Yan's fingers stopped.

"Regardless of which path they take, the result is that Nuhe Ti's control range is shrinking, and the mobile force he can mobilize is decreasing."

Gao Jiong bent his waist.

"Subordinate has exactly this meaning; without Great Zhou moving a single soldier or a single horse, as long as the rumors run fast enough, Nuhe Ti won't be able to spare his hands to look south before the beginning of spring."

"Three days."

Chen Yan stood up from the chair.

"Can you make this news spread across the grassland within three days?"

Gao Jiong's waist bent lower.

"Subordinate will arrange manpower tonight, ensuring that every tribe from the Royal Court to the western edge will hear this news within three days."

Chen Yan nodded.

"Go handle it."

Gao Jiong turned and walked toward the stone steps, the sound of his boots treading on the blue bricks as light as a cat.

When he reached the stone step entrance, he stopped for one step and looked back.

"Zhuguo, there is one more thing."

"Speak."

"For those people mixed into the refugees to spread the news, subordinate plans to pick eight old scouts proficient in the Rouran language from under Songqi's command; after they finish the matter, should they stay in the refugees or be pulled back?"

Chen Yan thought for one breath.

"Keep them; they will be useful later."

Gao Jiong responded and bent over, drilling into the shadow of the stone steps.

Zhang Wenqian stood in place watching him walk far away, turning his head to look at Chen Yan.

"Zhuguo, this plan of Chief Clerk Gao..."

"What do you want to say?"

Zhang Wenqian's voice dropped to the lowest.

"Killing people and punishing the heart, it is indeed ruthless, but what subordinate is worried about is the other end."

"Which end?"

"Our Xia Prefecture's six thousand elite cavalry are enough to fight the Rouran remnants, but the casualties won't be small; even if Nuhe Ti's men only have a little over ten thousand left, they are old soldiers who have rolled on the grassland for decades; if we clash head-on..."

Chen Yan picked up the tea bowl from the low table beside the chair; the tea in the bowl had long since gone cold, but he took a sip without minding.

"That is why this Duke does not intend to rely only on his own men."

Zhang Wenqian's eyebrows loosened by a section and then wrinkled back.

"Zhuguo means... the Turks?"

Chen Yan set the tea bowl down and walked toward the desk.

"Prepare paper, prepare ink, top-grade silk and wolf-hair brush; this Duke wants to write a letter."

Zhang Wenqian was stunned for half a breath.

"Who does Zhuguo want to write to?"

"Moheduo."

Zhang Wenqian's mouth opened a bit.

"The Turkic Crown Prince?"

Chen Yan had already walked to the front of the desk, pushing all the sundries on the desk to one side.

"That sworn brother of this Duke has been stifled in the west for too long these past few years; it is time to let him taste some sweetness."

Zhang Wenqian walked quickly to the side of the desk, digging out an inkstone and a piece of top-grade pine soot ink from the drawer at the bottom of the desk, and taking a roll of silk from the cabinet beside it to spread on the desk surface.

He muttered while grinding the ink.

"Zhuguo, subordinate has seen that Moheduo; he is as cunning as a fox; he will never easily pull chestnuts from the fire for others..."

Chen Yan pulled a wolf-hair brush from the brush rack on the desk, dipping it in ink at the edge of the inkstone.

"He doesn't need to pull chestnuts for this Duke."

Zhang Wenqian stopped grinding the ink and looked at him.

"This Duke only needs to tell him that the chestnuts are lying right there, and he can go pick them up himself."

Chen Yan's brush tip landed on the silk.

When the first line of words was written, Zhang Wenqian's ink-grinding action stopped.

He stared at that line of words, his Adam's apple rolling once.

Chen Yan wrote: The three thousand li of grassland in western Rouran, Great Zhou will not take a single cent, all offered as a gift.

Zhang Wenqian's throat felt like it was being choked, and it took several breaths before he could squeeze out a sound.

"Three thousand li of grassland... Zhuguo, that is the most fertile pasture in the entire western Rouran, a place enough to raise hundreds of thousands of cattle and sheep..."

Chen Yan's brush did not stop, the second line of words already falling.

"That piece of land never belonged to Great Zhou anyway."

Zhang Wenqian's mouth hung open, unable to close.

"But... Zhuguo uses a piece of land that doesn't belong to us to promise others; can Moheduo believe it?"

Chen Yan's brush tip moved rapidly on the silk, the handwriting flowing like clouds and water, spreading out line after line.

"Whether he believes it or not is not important; whether he craves it or not is important."

The brush tip paused at the end of a paragraph, and the corners of Chen Yan's mouth pulled to one side.

"What is three thousand li of grassland to the Turks? It is life. Nomadic people without pasture are like farmers without fields; how many years has Moheduo been stifled in the one-third of the territory in the west pressed by Rouran? This Duke sends this piece of meat to his mouth; even if he sees it is a trap, he has to drill into it."

Zhang Wenqian pushed the inkstone toward Chen Yan's hand; the ink was already ground thick enough.

"Then what else did Zhuguo write in the letter?"

Chen Yan did not answer him, the words under his brush writing faster and faster.

Zhang Wenqian could only tilt his head to look at the handwriting on the silk, scanning down line by line.

The first half of the letter reminisced about the sworn friendship with Moheduo in the past, the wording earnest, every word between the lines full of frankness between brothers.

"Sworn brother in the west, younger brother in the east, though separated by a thousand li, the heart's thoughts have not diminished."

Zhang Wenqian read this line aloud, his voice carrying three parts of strangeness.

"Zhuguo, is your friendship with Moheduo really this deep?"

"Whether it is deep or not is not important." Chen Yan's brush did not stop. "He just needs to remember."

"Then what if he doesn't remember?"

"He will remember." Chen Yan's brush tip turned a corner on the silk. "Back then, this Duke blocked a knife for him at the foot of the Yin Mountains; that scar is still on his left shoulder. This kind of thing, the Turks cannot forget."

Zhang Wenqian closed his mouth.

The middle section of the brush tip turned, writing the current weakness of Rouran clearly.

No troop numbers were given, but descriptions like "end of the tether" and "troubled internally and externally" were enough for Moheduo to make a judgment.

"Zhuguo didn't write the troop numbers?"

"If I wrote them, he wouldn't believe it." Chen Yan did not lift his head. "Moheduo is the kind of person who, if you place numbers in front of him, his first reaction is that you are lying to him. But if you only give him the direction and not the details, he will send people to check it himself, and he will only believe what he checks out."

"Then wouldn't it delay time for him to check it?"

"How many eyes do you think I don't know he has placed on the border of Rouran? He can verify every word in this letter in less than five days."

Zhang Wenqian did not speak, continuing to grind the ink.

The last few lines of words were written the slowest.

Chen Yan's brush tip hovered above the silk for two breaths before falling.

"The troop movements in the direction of Jinyang in the Qi State have been frequent recently, and the northern border of Great Zhou has to be guarded against. If the Turks do not take this opportunity to move east, Great Zhou may negotiate peace with Rouran for self-preservation; at that time, the ownership of the three thousand li of grassland will not be something Great Zhou can control."

Zhang Wenqian turned this paragraph over in his mind, his face changing.

"Zhuguo is forcing him."

"If I don't force him, he won't move."

"But... are there really troop movements in the Qi State?"

Chen Yan placed the brush on the edge of the inkstone, blowing on the ink marks that had not yet dried on the silk.

"Does it matter if there are?"

Zhang Wenqian's Adam's apple rolled once.

"Subordinate understands; Moheduo is thousands of li away; he has no way to verify this point."

"Everything that can be verified is true; what cannot be verified is placed at the end." Chen Yan lifted the silk to look at it against the torchlight. "Once he verifies everything in the front and believes it seventy or eighty percent, he will round out this last point for this Duke himself."

"Then what if he still doesn't move?"

"He will move." Chen Yan's tone did not have half a hesitation. "What kind of person is Moheduo? A person shrewd to the bone; if you give him ten benefits, he will first think about whether there is a pit in it. But if you tell him this opportunity is fleeting and will be gone after today, he won't have time to think about the pit."

"How is this different from merchants snatching goods in the market." Zhang Wenqian muttered.

"No difference." Chen Yan folded the silk into three folds. "People are all the same; the more shrewd a person is, the more they fear missing out. Stupid people are the opposite, because they don't know what they missed."

"Zhang Wenqian, the bamboo tube and fire wax."

Zhang Wenqian dug out a specially made copper-core bamboo tube from the drawer at the bottom of the desk; the tube body was three parts longer than an ordinary letter tube, and the wall thickness was also double.

"Zhuguo, use this one?"

"Hmm."

Chen Yan stuffed the folded silk into the bamboo tube, removed the private seal of the Duke of Wei from his waist, dipped it in the box of bright red seal paste beside him, and pressed it heavily onto the sealing wax of the bamboo tube.

The seal text entered the wax, clear enough that even the fuzzy edges of the brush strokes could be seen.

"Call the fastest person in the Mingjing Si."

Zhang Wenqian responded and ran toward the stone step entrance.

In less than half a stick of incense, a young man as thin as a bamboo pole floated down from the stone steps, his boot soles making almost no sound as they trod on the blue bricks.

Chen Yan handed the bamboo tube to him, sizing him up.

"What's your name?"

"Subordinate Sun Shisan."

"How many li is the furthest road you've run?"

"From Liang Prefecture to Chang'an, three days and two nights without getting off the horse."

Chen Yan nodded.

"This trip is further than that. One person, three horses, day and night without stopping, deliver it to the hands of Moheduo in the Turkic Royal Court. If you encounter any obstruction on the road, destroy the tube, not the letter; if that's impossible, then destroy the person. Do you understand?"

Sun Shisan tucked the bamboo tube close to his body.

"Zhuguo, rest assured; the letter arrives, the person arrives; if the letter doesn't arrive, the person doesn't return."

He touched one knee to the ground and then bounced up, disappearing into the darkness above the stone steps in three steps.

Zhang Wenqian stood at the stone step entrance watching that shadow disappear, turning back.

"Zhuguo, the rest is just waiting."

Chen Yan sat back into the Grand Master's chair, picking up the sword from beside the chair armrest and laying it across his knees.

"It's not waiting, it's preparing."

"Preparing for what?"

His fingers tapped on the scabbard twice.

"During these few days while the letter is still on the road, let Ye Zhuxi pull the combat readiness of the six thousand elite cavalry to the full. Grain, grass, and baggage should be loaded onto carts in advance; all troops that need to be mobilized, all grain that needs to be stored, all blades that need to be sharpened, get them all moving for this Duke."

"Zhuguo means not to wait for Moheduo's reply before moving?"

"If we wait for his reply before moving, it will be too late." Chen Yan's fingers moved away from the scabbard and rested on the armrest. "What this Duke wants is that when he moves, we are already in place; biting up from both sides, Nuhe Ti won't even have room to breathe."

"Then what if Moheduo doesn't move? We have already deployed our six thousand men..."

"Then this Duke will eat it himself."

Zhang Wenqian looked at him.

"Six thousand against ten thousand?"

"Fighting a war is not comparing head counts." Chen Yan leaned back into the chair. "After Gao Jiong's news spreads, thirty percent of Nuhe Ti's troops will be able to run away, and among the remaining seventy percent, half are fence-sitters with wavering hearts. The ones who really need to be fought are only three or four thousand."

"Subordinate understands."

Zhang Wenqian pulled the abacus from his sleeve and held it in his hand, turning to walk toward the stone steps.

When he reached the third step, he stopped and looked back at Chen Yan.

The torchlight in the storeroom reflected on Chen Yan's face, half bright and half dark, the sword laid across his knees, the cloak hanging on both sides of the chair.

What was turning in those eyes was not satisfaction with twenty-four thousand guan of gold and silver, but an appetite for the entire grassland.

Zhang Wenqian withdrew that look and walked quickly up the stone steps. ===== CHAPTER 915 =====