Chapter 398

Good news!

Good news!

The messenger raced to the capital at top speed, galloping through its streets, shouting "Good news!" without pause.

The Marquis of Pingjiang mobilized his troops, drove the main force of the Great Ming King into an encirclement, annihilated them utterly, and captured the Great Ming King along with several of his top generals and strategists.

The Great Ming King, a rebel who had plagued the Great Qian realm for years, was now utterly destroyed. Even if a few escaped, they were insignificant—mere clowns.

The good news reached the court, shaking it to its core; it spread across the land, causing the entire realm to tremble.

All eyes turned southward—to the rebel Chu Wang.

The Marquis of Pingjiang has crushed the Great Ming King. Now only Guo Dachun remains. Once Guo Dachun is eliminated, the Marquis will return to court. Might the court then appoint him as the Southern Pacification Grand Commander to lead the campaign against the Chu Wang faction?

Impossible!

Yu Zhaoan said this inside the signing chamber.

Impossible!

Left Chancellor Li Liangcheng said this.

Impossible!

Xie Changling, imprisoned in the Heavenly Prison, muttered to himself.

For the sake of power balance, or the old emperor's personal bias, it is utterly impossible for the Marquis of Pingjiang to be appointed Southern Pacification Grand Commander. It is impossible for him to control both northern and southern armies alone.

Impossible.

Within the Taiji Palace!

The old emperor sat in meditation, eyes closed, but his mind was far from cultivation.

His brows twitched, his expression shifting subtly—now pleased, now troubled.

Qiu Defu seized the chance and whispered, "Your Majesty has worked hard all morning—would you rest?" As he spoke, he presented a cup of tea at perfect temperature, its fragrance filling the air.

The old emperor suddenly felt thirsty. Without opening his eyes, he lowered his head slightly, and the cup was at his lips. He drank a sip, and his mood calmed instantly.

Since he had no heart for cultivation today, his daily practice would be skipped.

The moment he stirred, Qiu Defu was already at his side, supporting him with both hands, offering comfort perfectly suited to his needs.

"Your Majesty, would you rest?"

"I shall walk a bit."

Qiu Defu hurried to kneel and helped the old emperor put on his shoes and socks.

But the old emperor kicked off the shoes and walked barefoot in his cotton socks.

"Has the good news been announced throughout the realm?"

"Your Majesty, the good news arrived at the Political Council just now and has already been transmitted nationwide via the relay stations. This is a great joy—it will lift the people's spirits. The year-end draws near, and with the New Year just around the corner, the Marquis of Pingjiang has delivered a brilliant victory. This triumph is entirely due to Your Majesty's heavenly fortune!"

The other palace maids and eunuchs followed Qiu Defu, kneeling together and crying out: "Your Majesty's heavenly fortune is boundless!"

The old emperor was pleased, and for once, he smiled.

"I knew he could do it. This campaign should never have dragged on so long. The Great Ming King is nothing but a peasant, who hasn't read two books, with no capable strategists beside him—his battles rely entirely on a few old comrades leading charges. Such a ragtag force—given the Marquis of Pingjiang's ability—should have been crushed long ago. This is not his true level."

Qiu Defu's heart tightened. He ventured cautiously, "Your Majesty suspects the Marquis of Pingjiang deliberately delayed the campaign?"

Hmph!

The old emperor snorted coldly. "He's got a lame leg, not a lame brain. To defeat a few rebels, he's spent so much time, so much grain and arms—what has he been doing?"

Qiu Defu's face paled. Driven by the thought of silver, he dared to say, "But the Marquis of Pingjiang has ultimately eliminated the court's greatest threat."

"I know! He has merit—I won't erase his achievements. But he delayed the campaign, dragged it out, forcing the court to expend double the grain and arms just to crush one Great Ming King. I—" The old emperor clenched his teeth, his cheeks taut with fury.

Qiu Defu hurried to soothe him. "Your Majesty, calm yourself! Perhaps summon the Marquis back to question him directly?"

"No! If I recall him now, the ministers will suspect I cannot tolerate capable men—that I am casting aside loyal servants once their use is done. I must show the realm that I, who seized the throne, can tolerate anyone. As long as a minister or general serves the court faithfully and eases my burdens, I will never withhold rewards. Have the Political Council draft a plan swiftly—his reward must not be slight; it must be generous. The soldiers' bonuses must be disbursed promptly, without delay. If funds are tight, I will draw fifty thousand taels of silver from the imperial treasury to ease the crisis."

Qiu Defu stared, dumbfounded with shock.

The Iron Rooster actually opened his purse!

Has the sun risen in the west today?

Good heavens!

Has heaven and earth been turned upside down?

The Iron Rooster has opened his purse—and even urged the Political Council to disburse silver quickly.

Has the emperor changed his nature? Has he recovered? Returned to his former self—wise, mighty, and brilliant?

Qiu Defu bowed low, heart full of caution and doubt, and replied, "Yes." With a wave of his hand, a eunuch stepped forward to carry the order to the Political Council.

"Your Majesty is wise! The northern front still has Guo Dachun. The Marquis of Pingjiang should press his advantage and annihilate Guo Dachun at once, fully resolving the northern campaign. Only then can the court turn its full attention to the Chu Wang rebels in the south."

The old emperor grunted, noncommittal.

"Bring me all his memorials from the past two years. I will review them."

"Your Majesty means the Marquis of Pingjiang's memorials?"

"Naturally."

Qiu Defu did not fully understand, but he executed the order flawlessly. He quickly gathered all the Marquis of Pingjiang's memorials from the past two years, transported them to the Taiji Palace, and laid them on the desk. He also retrieved all battlefield reports from the north over the same period, along with memorials from local officials, for reference.

"Your Majesty, here are all the Marquis of Pingjiang's memorials from the past two years."

He had never counted before, but now, organizing them revealed the Marquis had written many—nearly two or three each month: greetings, detailed military reports, analyses of campaigns. In tone alone, the Marquis was diligent and responsible—worthy of the title Grand Commander of Pacification—always maintaining close contact with the court, ensuring it understood battlefield developments swiftly.

Of course, there were also countless memorials pleading for grain, arms, and cotton garments—begging for supplies with such heartfelt desperation it seemed the entire army would soon be eating bark and wild greens. Yet even so, he maintained strict discipline, never allowing soldiers to plunder local civilians—a fact confirmed by local officials' own memorials.

When troops assembled and marched, the local populace suffered no military violence.

Then why, in the last campaign, had military atrocities been rampant?

Probably because, last time, the Marquis of Pingjiang had limited control over his troops—many frontier generals obeyed orders only half-heartedly, pretending compliance while secretly resisting.

Qiu Defu seized the chance to speak up for the Marquis. "The Marquis of Pingjiang has had a hard time! The frontier troops are unruly and hard to control. That he has achieved this much suggests he has given his utmost."

His implication: managing these unruly troops alone consumed vast time and energy. The accusation that he deliberately delayed the campaign, causing double the grain and arms to be wasted, was likely baseless.