Chapter 124: I Could Do It Too

Within a month, the rebels of Jinzhou captured five cities, shaking the entire realm.

Some even saw local officials open their city gates to welcome the rebels, enraging scholars and officials across the land to curse them with all their might—so viciously that they abandoned even the basic decorum of literati.

Insulting them was secondary; the real goal was to declare allegiance and sever ties with the surrender faction.

The rebels of Jinzhou surged forward like an unstoppable tide; the court seemed to have no one capable of stopping them, no general able to hold the line. The impact of this event—especially its psychological effect on the people—was incalculable.

Oh!

It turned out the mighty Daqian Dynasty was so frail. The seemingly impregnable realm, upon the slightest probe by the Jinzhou rebels, collapsed—its costly defenses crumbling like paper.

If the Daqian army was rotten, did that mean opportunity had arrived?

The realm never lacked ambitious men. But previously, due to entrenched perceptions of Daqian’s strength and the emperor’s terrifying mastery of power, these ambitious men had all behaved with extreme obedience, giving the court whatever it demanded, never daring to entertain rebellion.

Now, with the Jinzhou rebels causing chaos, ambitious men everywhere stirred restlessly, all arriving at the same thought: If I stepped up, I could do it too!

With the court too preoccupied to look elsewhere, it seemed time to recruit soldiers and gather supplies, preparing in advance.

According to reliable reports, the old emperor possessed only fourth-rank Qi, and his lifespan was limited. Moreover, his suspicion of the Crown Prince deepened daily. The emperor and the Crown Prince were at odds; the emperor and his ministers were at odds; the emperor favored the sycophant Jiang Tu, obsessed with Daoist cultivation and immortality, squandering vast wealth and igniting public fury.

The timing is right!

This is the perfect timing!

As for geographical advantage and popular support, they are already in hand.

The ambitious men grew more excited by the thought—this realm seemed within reach; all they needed was the right moment to raise their arms, and followers would flock to them like clouds.

The pot of water that was Daqian was about to boil over.

…

The Marquis’s eldest lord, dragging his crippled leg, arrived at the imperial palace and waited outside the Taiji Palace for an audience.

The household’s messes were not his concern—they were the second branch’s responsibility. The first branch needed only to occasionally add fuel to the fire.

After several years, the eldest lord had once again been summoned by the old emperor, which genuinely surprised him. Yet upon deeper reflection, it made perfect sense.

He still remembered his last visit to Taiji Palace—his leg had not yet been crippled, he still commanded heavy troops and held real power as the First Marquis. Back then, the Hou Fu was truly flourishing, like flowers in full bloom and oil on a roaring fire. But after his leg was crippled, his dismissal, and his retirement from military service, the once-bustling Hou Fu gradually grew quiet.

For a time, he was deeply despondent.

Later, he came to terms with it.

Watching the old emperor obsessed with Daoist cultivation and immortality, executing officials who opposed him, stripping them of office and throwing them into the imperial prisons, he felt grateful he had withdrawn from court early, preserving the Hou Fu and sparing it the old emperor’s wrath.

As for his feud with Jiang Tu, it was a struggle over interests—and more importantly, over principles. The Hou Fu had to enter the fray and fight to the end. Born from military merit, its foundation lay among the noble warriors and generals. Even though he had retired from court, he could never retreat or show cowardice before the universally despised sycophant. To yield would mean the collapse of the Hou Fu’s core base.

Fortunately, the Hou Fu had gained a slight edge.

Not long after, Grand Eunuch Qiu Defu personally came to escort the eldest lord into the Taiji Palace.

The eldest lord offered a slight courtesy, “How could I possibly trouble Grand Eunuch Qiu?”

“Your Lordship humbles this servant. The Emperor awaits within—please enter at once.”

Qiu Defu, rarely so courteous, displayed an unusually respectful and kind demeanor as he personally led the eldest lord into the Taiji Palace.

Inside the Taiji Palace, a thick scent of incense and candles filled the air.

The eldest lord’s face remained expressionless; he did his best to ignore the pungent odor, limping slowly forward to the center of the hall, bowing deeply, “Your servant pays homage to Your Majesty—may Your Majesty enjoy boundless fortune!”

“Rise.”

Emperor Taixing looked weary, his thin face sallow and dull.

“Over these years, I have neglected you. Do you harbor resentment?”

Emperor Taixing cut straight to the point—his opening question was a death trap.

The eldest lord bowed slightly, his demeanor neither humble nor defiant: “Both thunder and rain are the Emperor’s grace. Moreover, I am physically crippled and no longer fit to serve the court or ease Your Majesty’s burdens.”

“No, no! An old steed in its stall still dreams of a thousand li. I know you well—I have never doubted your abilities. Now that the Jinzhou rebels grow ever more rampant, what do you suggest?”

The old emperor had finally grown desperate.

Whether Jinzhou was in chaos or not did not truly affect the grand picture. What he feared most was that the people’s hearts had scattered, and the ranks could no longer be held together.

The emperor had reigned for over forty years. His own ascension to the throne had been steeped in conspiracy and treachery—not easy, not honorable, even tinged with coincidence and fate. That was the folk tale.

He knew better than anyone what would happen if the people’s hearts were lost.

The best solution was to crush the Jinzhou rebels with overwhelming force—whether through appeasement or annihilation, a result must be achieved before year’s end. It need not be perfect, it could be bloody and corrupt, but it must produce a result the people could see, a result that could deceive the heavens and preserve the court’s face.

To achieve this, he could not rely on the young generals in court, still lacking even a single hair of experience. He needed seasoned generals—ideally, those with the highest prestige in the military.

After much deliberation, the old emperor chose from his limited pool of candidates: the eldest lord of the Hou Fu.

A crippled leg meant he could not harbor rebellion. Since ancient times, no one who sought to dominate the realm had ever been physically disabled. In the common mind, to vie for the throne, one need not be handsome, but at least one must have all limbs intact, a healthy body. Only with a sound body could one have a future—and could one’s ministers and generals willingly follow, hoping for lasting wealth and honor.

A sickly man dreaming of dominating the realm? He’d likely die before even securing a single corner of the land.

Who, following a short-lived leader, could calmly focus on duty? They’d all be scrambling to find a new patron.

The eldest lord of the Hou Fu’s face remained impassive. He bowed and said, “Your servant believes the court should send a steady, experienced minister to Jinzhou to oversee affairs.”

“You and I think alike,” Emperor Taixing laughed heartily, pleased. He asked further, “Then who do you suggest?”

The eldest lord paused thoughtfully. Though he already had a candidate in mind, before the old emperor he must appear to deliberate carefully. He did not keep the emperor waiting long, and replied slowly, “Your servant suggests the Minister of War be sent to Jinzhou to oversee affairs.”

The old emperor’s expression darkened—he was clearly dissatisfied.

He shook his head. “The Minister of War has other duties—he is unsuitable. Aside from him, are there other candidates? Say whatever you wish—no fear of punishment. I swear, I will not punish you for your words.”