Chapter 629: Mediation

April 9, 164, wind force north-by-east, overcast turning to rain.

The rain, enough to sway the course of battle, finally fell from the sky this morning.

However, it was already too late.

At the very moment the rain began to fall, the gates of Shunhua, capital of South Yue, slowly swung open. In the next instant, Northern Vietnam's troops surged into the city like the tide, lending a faint hint of irony to this belated downpour.

The irony wasn't very strong. After all, the Northerners' victory this time was built on the back of industrialization. Had the Southerners inside Shunhua known the truth, they would have cried out that the northern bastards had no martial honor.

A pity, then, that the Vietnamese did not understand what industrialization meant, nor did they have the time to learn. They were very busy now, busy watching the northern army enter the city with complicated expressions.

The army had entered the city this morning.

As early as the middle of the Mao hour, before the first sun had risen, the Northern Vietnam troops had already begun gathering, forming ranks and blocking the northern gate of Shunhua.

After this, at the beginning of the Chen hour, greeting the first ray of dawn, the civil and military officials of the Southern separatist regime, led by Ruan Fuyuan, followed the ancient script and collectively left the city to surrender, offering up the seals and land registries that represented actual ruling authority.

A historic moment, and the powerful minister Zheng Zhuang naturally had to savor the fruits of victory; he gladly accepted it all with a smile on behalf of the Later Le Dynasty.

Next, with little idle talk, the great army entered the city.

All in all, aside from a few scattered incidents, the opening of Shunhua's gates this time was relatively peaceful; no excessive conflict occurred, nor were there any dramatic, sudden events.

This outcome was predictable.

The nature of Northern Vietnam's offensive against Shunhua this time was somewhat similar to the liberation wars of later generations—both were wars of internal unification.

It was different from barbarians sweeping through the passes in a slaughter-fest. This kind of war, to put it plainly, was one's own people fighting one's own people, so in many respects, everyone exercised restraint. After all, they were originally one family; deciding a victor was enough, as they would still have to live together in the future.

Adhering to this principle, having won on the battlefield, the northern army—which had just this morning been elevated to "Imperial Court Army"—quickly and smoothly took over the city defense facilities inside and outside Shunhua.

The defending troops also laid down their weapons according to last night's agreement and did not create any trouble. In fact, many local soldiers had already fired themselves and gone home last night, their armor doffed; the army had long since lost its fighting strength.

After that, upon receiving the report that the entire city was under control, it was not Northern Vietnam, but rather the current Qingdu King, Zheng Zhuang, who—dressed in a purple silk python robe, astride a tall, fine steed, and leading his civil and military subordinates—swaggered with supreme confidence and was the first to stride through Shunhua's northern gate.

Due to the state's power, the royal palace buildings in Shunhua were considerably shabbier than those in Shenglong Prefecture. However, this did not affect the victor's mood in the slightest.

After the large entourage arrived at the main hall of the royal palace, Prince Zheng immediately stepped onto the central high platform, then turned around to overlook the scene. Amidst the congratulations of his ministers, he slowly sat down on that wide, rosewood armchair.

As for the joke that was Li Weiqi, the sovereign of the Later Le Dynasty who theoretically should have been sitting in that chair at this moment—how could such a critical moment, a highlight destined to be recorded in the history books afterward, allow that puppet brat to steal the spotlight?

Today, in this great hall, the only person who could issue administrative orders on behalf of a unified Annam was him, Prince Zheng Zhuang.

Needless to say, the immensely proud Prince Zheng had now entered a mode of man-god communion.

In essence, the moment he sat in that rosewood chair in Shunhua's palace, it meant that the Zheng Clan, under his leadership, had unified the entire country. It also meant that he himself had become the de facto ruler of Annam.

As for the matter of formal title, that was even less of a problem. With the great cause of unification as his endorsement, Prince Zheng now fully possessed the political prestige to drive a dynastic change.

The advanced prestige of "territorial integrity" is, for any nation, the hardest of hardcore strengths, regardless of dynasty or ethnic group.

For example, if one day in later generations, a certain island were recovered at a certain moment, what immense national prestige and historical acclaim would the people of that era receive? A little imagination makes it clear.

Sitting on the armchair in the main hall, gazing out at the realm, Prince Zheng Zhuang's cheeks were flushed, his heart surging with emotion. He knew that as long as he proceeded step by step, peacefully securing the old southern lands, the day he himself ascended the great treasure in Shenglong Prefecture was not far off.

As for that sovereign who had proactively "caught a sudden chill" and was resting in camp early this morning, Zheng Zhuang no longer took him to heart. Later, he only needed to handle a few "procedures" to properly arrange that brat's departure.

All the steps had precedents in the Han people's history books; the Prince now only needed patience, just a little more patience, and that would be enough.

"Let that brat live a few more days, then."

Having thought everything through, Prince Zheng composed his feelings, his eyes clearing as he looked down at the rows of civil and military officials below the platform.

The officials were tactful as well. Seeing that the Prince and sovereign had returned to his senses, they hurriedly formed ranks and stepped forward to once again congratulate the great man on his magnificent achievement.

The Prince chuckled this time, waved his hand to signal them, and began issuing orders.

When a new power occupies a city, if it wants to quickly settle the people's livelihood and stabilize the court situation, the matters are naturally many and complex. However, Zheng Zhuang had managed the governance of Northern Vietnam for many years; this little scene before him was not difficult to handle. Very quickly, orders flowed from his mouth like water, and the Prince entered work mode.

First, naturally, were routine matters such as occupying Shunhua, issuing proclamations to reassure the populace, and taking inventory of the money, grain, and warehouses.

Once the routine administration within Shunhua was arranged, the next step, and the most critical matter for the court, was the occupation of the entire southern territory.

Thus, some low-ranking generals and civil officials entered the hall to receive their appointment documents.

The advantage of the South Yue regime's cooperative surrender was that the court smoothly took over important local tax, money, grain, and military registries. However, those territories were still in the hands of southern bureaucrats; the court needed to send people to take over as quickly as possible.

As for the common people, they just needed to honestly turn the millstone and pay their taxes; a change of sovereign mattered little to the mud-legged peasants in the countryside.

At this point, the benefit of the Northern Vietnam regime having thrown its full weight into this campaign became apparent. Following the Prince's orders, garrison forces sufficient to overawe the various southern regions began to deploy one after another.

Not only that, but alongside each garrison force setting out for rotation, the court simultaneously dispatched surrender-envoys from the "old dynasty" and enough civil officials to take over the localities.

This way, the local officials would certainly not put up stubborn resistance, and the southern regions could be considered more or less "pacified by proclamation."

And so, the royal hall transformed into a large-scale, comprehensive office. The new dynasty's ruler and ministers, their spirits high, worked incessantly from early morning. It was only approaching noon that they managed to somewhat sort out their thoughts and settle all urgent matters.

After a rough lunch and a brief half-hour rest, shortly after noon, another major event of the day began—the handling of the former dynasty's civil and military old officials.

The "old officials" referred to here were solely those high-ranking bureaucrats of the South Dynasty who could influence the court situation, and had nothing to do with the low-ranking officials in green robes awaiting reassignment.

Overall, the new court was extremely cautious in handling these important officials, and did not let things become too ugly.

The reason was simple: many of the old officials came from prominent local clans, with intricate connections running up and down the hierarchy. Since the new court needed to pacify the regions and ensure a smooth transition, it was impossible for these important officials to suffer large-scale persecution.

For some among them who had prestige and had not previously opposed the court too fiercely, the court this time had to honestly arrange positions for them, putting them to work on the spot. Without doing so, the new court's magnanimity could not be demonstrated, which would be detrimental to quickly restoring a peaceful and stable, excellent situation.

And so, the former dynasty's old officials, who had been waiting bitterly outside the hall since early morning, began entering one by one to await the pronouncement of their fates.

Prince Zheng, who had long had a draft plan in mind, was indeed mostly amiable when receiving the old officials, and would even chat and joke a little when encountering old friends from years past.

In the end, there was indeed one group of old officials who acknowledged their new master on the spot; under Prince Zheng's verbal assignment, these people easily obtained a position in the new dynasty.

As for the others, the majority managed to secure the treatment of "retiring to their hometowns due to old age," which counted as preserving their safety and leaving an opportunity to maneuver for a comeback in the future—a conclusion that was also not bad.

However, since most officials were let off lightly, naturally, there had to be a minority of unlucky ones used to establish authority.

Watching the number of "pending processing" former dynasty old officials outside the hall gradually dwindle, the Prince, at the next moment, cast a meaningful glance and then fell silent.

And the skinny old man who had been prepared at the side, Li Sun—a major minister of the Northern Dynasty holding the office of Grand Marshal—smoothly stepped forward, took out a stack of already-prepared Later Le Dynasty imperial edicts, and began summoning people in to have them read aloud.

From the moment Li Sima took on the role of reader, those pending-processing individuals summoned into the hall met no good end. One after another, they were either exiled or beheaded; blood began to appear on the scene.

And the edicts dealing with these people were all issued in the name of the Later Le Dynasty's sovereign—the old villain Zheng Zhuang had played the good guy earlier, handing out promotions to everyone; now that it was time to kill, the blame fell on the young sovereign.

The bloody scene was discomforting, so it proceeded rather quickly.

Not long after, having dealt with a batch of appetizers, finally, the main course appeared: over a dozen people dressed in white, their hands bound behind their backs—the Ruan Clan, led by Ruan Fuyuan, the core civil and military figures of the South Yue separatist regime.

Most of this group bore the surname Ruan, and the few with different surnames were die-hard allies tied to the Ruan Clan by marriage or similar bonds. Zheng Zhuang knew all their names well, and was familiar with many of their faces too — they were the kind of enemies he dreamed of boiling and eating.

At last, the Prince could now settle years of grudges.

The imperial edict targeting the Ruan Clan was brief and brutal: all males to be beheaded, female dependents exiled to military servitude, and all family property confiscated.

What slightly surprised the Prince was that, after the edict was read, he saw no reaction from Ruan Fuyuan — neither the furious curses nor the desperate pleas for mercy that the Prince had envisioned as the grand finale appeared on Ruan Fuyuan at all.

This great foe, somewhat younger than himself, knelt below the dais in coarse hemp garments, yet his upturned gaze was filled with calm, as if the target of the clan-extermination edict were not him personally.

"Could he be scared witless?"

Somewhat dissatisfied, the Prince muttered under his breath, then waved to signal the Samurai before the hall to drag his mortal enemy out for execution first. "What impressive self-cultivation! Let's see how long you can remain composed!"

"Hahaha."

Just at this oppressive moment, a long laugh rang out in the hall: "Prince, stay your blade!"

Who would dare be so bold?

The civil and military officials in the hall turned toward the sound and saw that the one who had let out the long laugh was none other than Sheng Nan, Commander Sheng, dressed in a front-buttoned short jacket, who had been silently watching the excitement since entering the hall that morning.

After Sheng Nan spoke, Prince Zheng was momentarily stunned. He asked, puzzled, "Sir Sheng, why do you say this?"

"Well, that's a long story. I beg the Prince to allow me to explain in detail."

———————————————————————————

In truth, from the moment the gates of Shunhua opened, the brief honeymoon between a certain power base from the Great Ming and the Northern Vietnam regime was over.

From this point on, the fundamental goals of both sides had already begun to diverge: the new Vietnamese dynasty wanted to pacify the remaining forces throughout its territory, unify the nation, and only then consider external expansion.

The Transmigrator, however, wanted to preserve and support those very forces, to create internal strife, leaving sufficient backup plans, a Guide Party, and scapegoats for a future single-stroke overthrow and annexation of the country.

Therefore, from now on, he absolutely could not let these scapegoats all kick the bucket.

The real reasons above for Sheng Nan's intervention naturally could not be stated openly. But in such matters, since he had already spoken up, Sheng Nan was certain to have other ample justifications — preserving the Ruan Clan and its core troops to form an Allied Force was a case of "making use of waste," as he would need Ruan troops in the coming campaign to attack Ayutthaya.

"This is outrageous!"

After hearing Sheng Nan's speech, the first to speak out was Grand Marshal Li Sun.

Li Sun was a man grown shrewd with age. Halfway through Sheng Nan's words, his heart gave a thump as he realized something was wrong: failing to eliminate the roots when cutting weeds was a great taboo for a ruler. Moreover, this Sir Sheng wanted to preserve the Ruan military forces — wasn't this blatantly nurturing a threat?

And Li Sun quickly realized that he absolutely could not let the Prince himself speak on this matter. Once the Prince spoke, whether he agreed or not, it would be a final decision that would force their side into an extremely awkward position.

This was the role of an old minister. Realizing Sheng Nan's words were ill-intentioned, Li Sun waited for the other to finish, then immediately bellowed, "This is outrageous! These rebels are defeated remnants of a lost state — they should be publicly executed to serve as a warning. How can they be allowed to command troops again and disrupt our court's order?"

Sheng Nan was utterly unmoved by Li Sun's shout. He leaned lazily back in the first armchair on the right, crossed his legs, and picked at his ear with a finger: "Marshal Li is overreacting a bit. Rest assured, old sir, according to my plan, the Ruan Clan will stay in Ayutthaya from now on and never return, which counts as a form of exile. I'll give everyone here my personal guarantee that the Ruan Clan will cause you no trouble in the future."

Sheng Nan's proposal provoked an even more intense reaction from the assembled high officials.

Immediately, a fully armored military officer rose angrily to his feet. This man was Zheng Wenxiong, the Northern Vietnam front-line commander, a clan nephew of Zheng Zhuang who controlled thirty percent of the Northern Army's forces as a direct-line general.

After rising, Zheng Wenxiong pointed at Sheng Nan from across the hall and shouted with a face full of fury, "Isn't this just giving the bandits a rest? When these rebels have eaten their fill of Ayutthaya's Rice, recovered their Essence Refining, and come back to wreak havoc on our dynasty, where will you, Mister Sheng, be?"

Hearing Zheng Wenxiong's blunt accusation, Sheng Nan's expression changed: "Someone's getting cocky!"

After a cold laugh, Sheng Nan leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees, and stared at Zheng Wenxiong as he asked, "Sir Zheng, those Cannons that blasted open this Shunhua city yesterday — were they big enough?"

The moment Sheng Nan spoke these words, it was as if a basin of cold water had been poured over the heads of the agitated civil and military officials. In that instant, everyone suddenly remembered: this usually smiling General Sheng across from them was a fiend backed by a fleet and mighty cannons!

"Though we're out of shells at the moment, the Guangzhou City armory never lacks for shells."

After delivering this naked Threat, Sheng Nan ignored the speechless Zheng Wenxiong completely and turned his head to look at Zheng Zhuang, who sat high on the throne with an uncertain expression.

In the next moment, Sheng Nan resumed his smiling expression and said to the Prince with ease, "You see, the matter is very simple now: since mine is big, everyone in this court will probably have to endure it a little."