Chapter 915: Every Word a Pearl, Fully Displaying the Strategy of Open Schemes, Discussing Matters in the Golden Tent, the Butcher Wa

The Turkic Royal Court's Golden Tent was more than three times as spacious as Rouran's large tent.

The tent roof was sewn with whole white yak hides, the inner side of the tent walls inlaid with a layer of thumb-thick gold-thread felt carpet, the ground covered with three layers of tiger and leopard skins, one's feet sinking in half an inch when treading upon them.

In the center of the tent, a fire pit burned pine wood as thick as an arm, the flames leaping as high as a person, illuminating the inside of the tent thoroughly.

Moheduo sat on the wide chair covered with white tiger skin behind the fire pit, his right hand resting on the chair armrest, his left hand pinching a silver wine bowl and turning it, half a bowl of mare's milk wine remaining, reflecting a milky white luster under the firelight.

A piece of silk was spread on the low desk in front of him.

He had already read the words on the silk for the third time.

After finishing the third reading, Moheduo set the wine bowl on the desk, lifted his head to look at the tent roof, as if talking to the copper lamp on the tent roof.

Laughter surged from his throat.

First a muffled laugh, followed by two, and then it couldn't be stopped, the laughter growing louder and more wanton, finally shaking the copper bells hanging on the tent walls.

The two guards standing at the tent door looked at each other, neither daring to glance inside.

Moheduo laughed for a long while before stopping, reaching out to wipe the moisture of laughter from the corner of his eyes, and patted the silk on the desk twice.

"Chen Yan, Chen Yan..."

He recited the name twice, the arc of the corners of his mouth still hanging without being retracted.

"You take a piece of land that doesn't belong to you to lure this Crown Prince, using open schemes so nakedly, aren't you afraid this Crown Prince will see through it and not accept?"

The silk was thrown back onto the desk by him.

"It just so happens that this Crown Prince wants to accept."

He stood up from the wide chair and walked two steps toward the tent door.

"Someone come."

A guard outside the tent door knelt on one knee and responded.

"Beat the General-Gathering Drum, call Zhishi Sili, Qibi Ge Leng, and Sunongtutun to discuss matters; arrive at the tent within a quarter of an hour."

The General-Gathering Drum sounded nine times on the high platform outside the tent, the drum sound dull and heavy, spreading from the center of the Royal Court to the camp areas in all directions.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the tent door curtain was lifted open.

The first to enter was Zhishi Sili.

This person was nearly six feet tall, his shoulders as wide as a door panel; he wore nothing over his iron armor, the armor plates still stained with mud splashes from today's drill; his walking steps were like smashing the ground, the carpet trembling with every step.

The second to enter was Qibi Ge Leng.

Compared to Zhishi Sili, he was half a head shorter, but his body was as lean as a tightened bowstring, with very little flesh on his face, the contours of his cheekbones and jaw fully exposed, a pair of eyes long and narrow, picking toward the sides, looking at people as if measuring them with a ruler.

The third person to enter made the flames in the tent seem to tremble.

Sunongtutun.

He was not as tall as Zhishi Sili, nor as lean as Qibi Ge Leng; medium build, his walking steps neither fast nor slow, but the crisscrossing knife scars on his face made everyone who saw him move their gaze away within the first breath.

One scar from the left eyebrow to the right cheek, one from the center of the forehead to the chin, and another short one across the bridge of the nose; the three scars cut his face into several irregular areas, each with a different color, some old scars turning white, some new wounds turning red.

After entering the tent, he did not walk to the front of the fire pit, but turned to the low stool in the corner of the tent and sat down, his two legs spread, his right hand digging out a dagger from his bosom and flipping it between his fingers.

The handle of that dagger was ground out of a human calf bone.

Moheduo waited until all three had arrived before sitting down again from the wide chair, his left hand picking up the silk on the desk and lifting it forward.

"All take a look."

Zhishi Sili walked to the desk with big strides, taking the silk and rolling his two eyeballs twice over it; after reading, the blood color on his face rose from the root of his neck to his forehead.

"Three thousand li of grassland?"

His voice exploded, and the copper bells in the tent shook again.

"Great Zhou's Chen Yan wants to give the western grassland of Rouran to us?"

Qibi Ge Leng took the silk from his hand, reading more than three times slower than him, scanning line by line, his eyebrows knitting together when he reached the last few sentences.

Sunongtutun sat in the corner without moving, the dagger flipping twice between his fingers.

"Read it out."

Qibi Ge Leng cleared his throat and read the content of the letter from beginning to end.

After reading, the Golden Tent was quiet for three breaths.

Zhishi Sili opened his mouth first, his voice still as loud.

"What are we waiting for? Point out the troops! Point out the troops now! While that old dog of Rouran is still lying in the nest licking his wounds, take all the western grassland!"

His fist smashed onto the desk surface, the low desk shaking, and that silver wine bowl slid off the corner of the desk and fell onto the carpet.

"Three thousand li of grassland, Crown Prince! How many rivers and springs are on that land? Enough water and grass for our cattle and sheep to eat for ten or twenty years!"

Qibi Ge Leng placed the silk back on the desk without speaking immediately.

Moheduo gave him a look.

"Geleng, your complexion is not quite right."

Qibi Ge Leng's fingers tapped on the desk surface twice.

"Crown Prince, as for this man Chen Yan... your subordinate will speak the truth to you: the depth of this man's cunning is the greatest I have ever seen in my life."

Qibi Ge Leng's fingers rubbed the edge of the silk, pushing it back to the center of the desk.

"He will never do a losing business; three thousand li of grassland sounds good, but where in the world is there anything given for free?"

Zhishi Sili turned his head to glare at him, the veins on his neck bulging out.

"What do you mean? Is three thousand li of grassland not big enough? Is it not big enough? Ask our herdsmen whose half-herds of cattle and sheep froze to death last winter!"

"What are you rushing for." Qibi Ge Leng's speed of speech did not change, popping out word by word. "I didn't say we don't want it; I said don't lose your life while taking it."

"Who is losing their life? That old dog of Rouran had his spine broken by Great Zhou last winter, and the soldiers under his hand are thirty percent fewer; now is the time to bite."

"You only see that Rouran has thirty percent fewer soldiers." Qibi Ge Leng walked forward half a step, those long and narrow eyes staring at Zhishi Sili's face. "You didn't see why Chen Yan didn't bite it himself."

Zhishi Sili's mouth opened a bit.

Qibi Ge Leng didn't give him a chance to take the conversation.

"What subordinate is worried about is that Chen Yan leads us to fight Rouran to the death, and when we have fought to the point of exhaustion, he bites back from behind. We consume ourselves with Rouran in the west, and the six thousand elite cavalry of Xia Prefecture stab up from the south; attacked from both front and back, at that time this three thousand li of grassland will be a piece of meat hanging in front of a wolf's mouth, smellable but un-eatable."

Zhishi Sili's face turned even redder, his fist smashing onto the desk surface again, the silk being shaken and sliding to the corner of the desk.

"You're afraid of a fart. Chen Yan only has six thousand men on the surface; we Turks can pull out two or three thousand cavalry at will; does he dare to move?"

"Six thousand is what he puts on the surface." Qibi Ge Leng's voice carried a taste of patience reaching its limit. "There are still garrison troops in Xia Prefecture City, and infantry drawn from various departments, adding up to no less than ten thousand men."

"So what if there are ten thousand?"

"Ten thousand is nothing, but he doesn't need to defeat us. He only needs to come out to clean up the mess when we and Rouran have fought to the point of exhaustion, and eat up the rest."

"You—"

"You what you, use your brain."

The two started arguing, their voices growing louder one after another.

Zhishi Sili's table-slapping movement made the silver bowl on the desk spin, spilling a puddle of mare's milk wine.

Although Qibi Ge Leng's voice was not as loud as his, every sentence stuck to the vital point; sticking one sentence, Zhishi Sili had to hold back for a long time before finding words to refute.

Moheduo sat on the wide chair watching them argue without interrupting, lifting the mare's milk wine in the bowl and taking another sip.

Sunongtutun in the corner stood up.

That human-bone dagger flipped a round in his hand, point down, and was stabbed into the wooden sand table in the center of the tent by him.

The location stabbed was Great Zhou's Xia Prefecture.

The arguing sound stopped.

Sunongtutun's voice scraped over from the corner, as hoarse as a dull knife sawing wood.

"You two have been arguing for a long time, all revolving around Chen Yan's routine. He wants you to go east, so you discuss whether to go east; he wants you to go west, so you discuss whether to go west."

He walked to the front of the sand table, his two feet standing still without moving again.

"Think in another direction. Chen Yan wants to send troops to fight Rouran, right? He draws his troops out and goes north; what does he leave in Xia Prefecture?"

Zhishi Sili's mouth moved, but no sound came out.

Qibi Ge Leng's eyes narrowed into a slit.

Sunongtutun's corners of the mouth pulled, the knife scars on his face twisting into another shape.

"Leaving a city, a few thousand old and weak garrison troops, and thirty thousand-plus mouths just swallowed. What are thirty thousand-plus mouths? They are a burden, not military strength. Grain in the city is already tight; after Chen Yan takes the main force away, just feeding these people is enough to give the garrison troops a headache."

His fingers tapped on the dagger handle once.

"And the gold, silver, and jewelry moved back from Qifugu."

Zhishi Sili's complexion slowly changed, turning into something unclear, as if digesting a piece of meat that was too big.

Qibi Ge Leng didn't speak, but his body leaned forward by two points.

"Crown Prince." Sunongtutun turned around, facing Moheduo. "Chen Yan wants us to be the knife, replacing him to bite Rouran from the east. Why don't we do the opposite?"

He pulled the dagger out from the sand table, the blade tip carrying a small pinch of sand, drawing an arc on the sand table from Rouran's location to Xia Prefecture.

"Agree to his alliance on the surface, and do the appearance of sending troops sufficiently. Pull the cavalry to the northern grassland to turn a circle, insert a few flags, and release scouts for Rouran's spies to see. Once Chen Yan confirms we have moved, he will rest assured and pull his main force out to fight Rouran, unable to return—"

The blade tip pointed twice at the location of Xia Prefecture.

"We turn around and head south, and twenty thousand cavalry will pounce on the Xia Prefecture city walls within three days."

No one in the Golden Tent spoke.

A piece of pine wood in the fire pit burned through, the cross-section collapsing downward into the ash pile, splashing a cluster of sparks.

Zhishi Sili swallowed a mouthful of saliva, the sound of his Adam's apple rolling being particularly obvious in the quiet.

"Then... the garrison troops in the city—"

"A few thousand old and weak." Sunongtutun turned the dagger in his hand to another direction, blade tip down, his speed of speech neither fast nor slow as he ground over. "The gold and silver in the city, the refugees outside the city, the Weaponry Bureau in the city, the granary in Tongwan City, are all ours."

Zhishi Sili's lips moved, as if wanting to take the conversation, but being blocked by something.

Sunongtutun didn't look at him, continuing to speak down.

"When Chen Yan is fighting Rouran to the point of blood and flesh in the front, his old nest is taken. At that time, he won't even have a retreat."

"Then what if he returns the division?" Qibi Ge Leng asked.

This question was not urgent, but everyone in the tent heard the weight.

Sunongtutun turned his head to look at him.

"Return what division?"

"His troops are tangled with Rouran; if he wants to pull out, he can't. Even if he gritted his teeth and pulled them out, four or five days of travel, can they walk?"

Qibi Ge Leng didn't take the conversation.

Sunongtutun walked forward one step, his toes closer to the sand table, his tone chewing on a piece of wind-dried meat.

"By the time he rushes back, the city will have changed masters. Returning with remnant soldiers who have fought half their lives to attack the city? Attack his own city?"

His fingers tapped twice on the edge of the sand table.

"On the city walls are bed crossbows built by his own Weaponry Bureau, piercing both man and horse within three hundred paces; which one does he let go first?"

Zhishi Sili's breathing grew coarse.

"Good, what a good 'besiege Wei to save Zhao'." He slapped his thigh, the leather armor slapping with a 'pa' sound. "Isn't Chen Yan fond of letting others be the knife? Let him taste what it's like to have a knife stabbed into his own stomach."

"What's the rush." Qibi Ge Leng lifted his hand, pressing down Zhishi Sili's momentum, his gaze still falling on Sunongtutun. "I have a few questions."

Sunongtutun turned to face him, the dagger retracted to his waist, waiting.

"First, Chen Yan is not a stupid person. Will he leave a backup in Xia Prefecture before sending troops?"

"He will." Sunongtutun answered crisply. "But the backup he leaves is to guard against scattered soldiers, to guard against robbers, to guard against refugees making trouble. He won't guard against twenty thousand cavalry falling from the sky."

"On what basis do you say that?"

"On that letter of his." Sunongtutun gestured with his chin toward the silk on the desk. "He wrote a letter to call us to fight Rouran, which shows that in his eyes we have already taken the bait. For someone who has already taken the bait, what is he guarding against?"

The texture line on Qibi Ge Leng's eyebrows squeezed in by another fraction.

"Second question. We pretend to send troops, pulling the cavalry to the north to turn a circle; what about Rouran? If Rouran's spies see our flags, will they retreat east ahead of time? If Rouran runs, Chen Yan doesn't fight, and his speed of returning will be fast."

"Good question." Sunongtutun nodded, his right index finger drawing half a circle on the sand table from the north side. "So we can't just do the appearance. Three thousand vanguard cavalry must really push toward the Rouran border, pushing to where Rouran's scouts can see, letting them think the large force is following behind. Rouran was just scattered by Great Zhou, and they are birds startled by the mere twang of a bow; seeing our flags, they will only shrink west, not daring to retreat east. Once he shrinks west, he will just happen to bump into Chen Yan's main force, and the two dogs will bite each other in the west."

"Once they bite, they can't be pulled apart." Zhishi Sili took the conversation, this time taking it quickly. "People who have been beaten by Rouran won't let go of any chance to retreat; even if he risks his life, he will drag Chen Yan down."

Sunongtutun glanced at him.

"You got it right this time."

Zhishi Sili let out a 'hei', rarely praised, his waist straightening a bit.

Qibi Ge Leng didn't mind him, his eyes still staring at Sunongtutun.

"Third. What after taking Xia Prefecture? The city is taken, but whether it can be held is another matter. Chen Yan has six thousand elite cavalry under his hand, plus infantry, ten thousand people. Even if beaten to remnants, five or six thousand are enough to give us a headache. We are cavalry, good at attacking cities, but defending cities is not our strong suit."

"Who said we have to defend?"

Sunongtutun's corners of the mouth pulled, the knife scars on his face twisting into another shape.

"Move everything valuable in the city out within three days. Gold, silver, jewelry, iron materials and finished crossbows from the Weaponry Bureau, grain in the granary, everything that can be pulled away, pull it away. Burn everything that can't be pulled away."

He looked at Qibi Ge Leng, his speed of speech half a beat slower.

"Even if Chen Yan returns, what returns is an empty city. No grain, no money, no military equipment, and carrying thirty thousand-plus mouths waiting to eat. You tell me, is he chasing us or pacifying those people in the city who are about to starve to death first?"

Qibi Ge Leng didn't speak again.

His body leaned back, his line of sight moving away from Sunongtutun and falling on the position on the sand table that had been stabbed by the dagger.

The tent was quiet for a long while.

Moheduo poured the last mouthful of mare's milk wine into his mouth, a confused gurgle coming from his throat.

His gaze moved from Sunongtutun's face to the position representing Xia Prefecture on the sand table, lingering for a long time.

The empty bowl was set on the desk, the bottom of the bowl knocking out a dull thud.

He leaned forward from the wide chair, his right hand slowly touching the handle of the curved saber at his waist.

Drawing it out.

The back of the blade tapped on his left palm one by one.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

"Sunongtutun."

"Subordinate is here."

Moheduo's corners of the mouth split open.

That smile was completely different from the smile when looking at Chen Yan's letter; the previous smile had appreciation, had playfulness, like a cat looking at a fast-running mouse.

Now there was nothing in this smile.

Only one thing remained.

Hunger.

That kind of hunger of staring at a large piece of raw meat, wanting to chew even the bones to pieces and swallow them.

"Your appetite is very big."

The back of the blade tapped once more on his palm.

"But this just happens to suit this Crown Prince's heart." ===== CHAPTER 916 =====