Chapter 874

The Mongol southern expeditionary force’s encampment, Ordos tribe tents.

Jirang Khan had just witnessed Anda Khan’s troop deployment and stratagem within the tent, pondering its intent, and had formed his own conclusions.

He intended to inform Noyan of this matter, partly to test him—but he had barely finished speaking.

Noyan’s mind was so sharp that in mere moments, he had dissected Anda Khan’s military intent with pinpoint precision, even more meticulous than Jirang’s own thoughts.

He could not help but feel profound satisfaction: with such a bloodline heir, the Ordos tribe had a worthy successor; given time, it would surely rise above the other three tribes.

Noyan Taigi smiled: “Father Khan, don’t speak such words. You are still vigorous and strong—why should I shoulder such burdens?”

You are the eagle of the steppe; I only wish to be the swallow beneath your wings. That is the life I truly desire.”

Jirang Khan sighed: “I do not wish for you, so young, to bear such weight and exhaust yourself day and night for the tribe.

But the current situation is unpredictable. If Anda Khan’s plan succeeds and Manhai reaches Wawu Town and secures a foothold near the Divine Capital,

even before the great battle begins, the Mongols will hold the advantage. If Anda Khan wins decisively, the Tumeng tribe’s power and prestige will surge.

Other tribes will sink further into submission, the steppe’s winds will shift, and his ambition will swell further.

With this imbalance, he will not be content with the current Three Myriads Alliance—he will turn and swallow the Ordos and Yongshelun tribes.

If Great Zhou suffers a crushing defeat in this campaign, it will not only affect the two nations’ fate for over a decade, but the Ordos tribe will be dragged into the whirlpool…”

…

Noyan Taigi said: “Father Khan need not worry excessively. Though I deduce that Anda Khan’s strategy may lead to a southern victory,

it is merely a deduction. The world is ever-changing; unforeseen turns are inevitable. Great Zhou is vast and rich, brimming with literary and military talent.

Anda Khan focuses only on troop movements and supply lines, his gaze fixed only on Liang Chengzong, Chen Yi, and others—he cannot have overlooked everything.

Father, you must have heard: in recent years, Great Zhou has been crafting firearms, said to be devastatingly potent.

When Jia Cong once led a thousand firearm troops, he crushed the Jurchen Three Garrisons’ numerically superior elite forces. We Mongols have never seen it ourselves—there must be unknown variables.”

Jirang Khan said: “You’ve noticed this too. Just now in the main tent, Anda Khan mentioned it—he too is aware of firearms.

He even instructed Manhai, upon reaching Wawu Town, to destroy Great Zhou’s external firearm workshops if the opportunity arises.”

…

Noyan Taigi’s expression shifted slightly. “Jia Cong is shrewd and cautious—he is the Director of the Firearm Division under Great Zhou’s Ministry of Works.

He is also the chief officer of Great Zhou’s firearm workshops. Given his past intellect and methods, Manhai will find it hard to succeed.

I have had frequent dealings with Jia Cong in the Divine Capital; we discussed everything under the sun—but he never once mentioned firearms. He is extremely guarded.

Father Khan, Jia Cong is a man of deep cunning, far from ordinary. His silence on this matter, his utter secrecy, suggests the rumors about firearms may be true.

Han military doctrine emphasizes concealing sharpness and striking unexpectedly.

When he campaigned in Liaodong, he was ennobled for his merit and gained widespread fame—it was not baseless. He may yet be a variable.

Anda Khan, Altang, Manhai—they have never encountered Jia Cong.

Their knowledge of him is nearly blank; they may even think him a mere youth who rose by luck.

They do not know him as I do, so they pay him no heed and dismiss the rumors…”

After speaking these words, Noyan Taigi turned southward, his gaze flickering. “Father Khan, I am somewhat tired—I shall return to rest.”

Jirang Khan noticed Noyan’s expression change at the mention of Jia Cong. “Noyan, I know you are close to Jia Cong—but at this critical juncture, do not act rashly!”

…

Noyan Taigi halted, smiling bitterly. “Father Khan, you worry too much. Do you think I would warn Jia Cong?

Even if I wished to, it would take at least two to three days to reach the Divine Capital—and Manhai has already led his troops out under cover of night. I am too late.

The war between the two nations has begun; the bow is drawn, no turning back. Can the fate of hundreds of thousands hinge on one man’s whim?

Moreover, Anda Khan has already taken precautions: after ordering Manhai, he immediately issued a camp lockdown. The Ordos tribe must already be under his watch.

Tomorrow, we march against Yaoshan Relay Station, yet he deliberately does not deploy our troops. If I move even one man now, Anda Khan will notice.

Then the Ordos tribe will give him grounds to strike, inviting countless troubles—truly not worth the risk.

Besides, I am a Mongol commander, an enemy of Great Zhou. Why should the Zhou people trust me?

I will not do such a foolish thing. After all, I am a Mongol.”

…

Jirang Khan’s expression turned slightly resigned. “If you understand the gravity and risk, why did you secretly release two Zhou prisoners a few days ago?”

Noyan’s face stiffened slightly. “So Father Khan already knows.”

Jirang Khan said: “It matters little that I know—but now our army advances southward, amid urgent warfires.

If word leaks of this, you commit treason by leaking military secrets. Anda Khan could use it to blackmail us—we would be hard-pressed to respond.

Do not take such risks again. Even if you keep the two prisoners in camp, there are ways to preserve their lives.”

Noyan Taigi said: “Father Khan does not know: I did this because these two prisoners are not ordinary.

One comes from the Rongguo Jia family—he is Jia Cong’s childhood attendant, his mother Jia Cong’s wet nurse.

He is Jia Cong’s milk-brother. According to Han custom, he is as close as a brother to Jia Cong, and one of his trusted officers in the army.

When I participated in peace talks in the Divine Capital, Jia Cong treated me sincerely, whether in official or personal matters.

We once rode together hunting, drank wine and laughed. He never wronged me. When he saw me off from the city, he even promised we would meet again.

Who could have imagined the delegation did not return to the steppe, but instead launched a surprise attack on Great Zhou’s supply depots? How ironic.”

Noyan Taigi’s face bore a self-mocking smile, tinged with helplessness and a trace of anger.

…

He continued: “Now that we have reached this point, I feel guilty toward him.

I secretly released them to preserve the bond between us, so they might meet again someday.

Since their capture, I have kept them under tight confinement—no one but my personal guards knows of them.

I only asked them casual questions about Jia Cong’s childhood; I revealed no military secrets. They were clever enough to speak with restraint.

On the day our army marched, I had Shuergan take them away under cover of night. Both had their hands bound and eyes covered.

I sent them twenty miles beyond the camp before releasing them to return to Liaodong. I kept all proper bounds—even if discovered, I accept the consequences.

Father Khan, I did this not merely out of conscience, but to leave the Ordos tribe a chance, a retreat path.

I am certain I did not misjudge him: given time, Jia Cong will never remain a fish in a pond…”

…

The Marquis’s residence, Jia Cong’s courtyard.

Afternoon sunlight blazed; the garden’s blue-brick path wound sinuously, flanked by dense, evergreen hedges.

Zi Juan wore a light purple embroidered satin-lined fur-lined jacket, beneath it a pink five-petal-patterned standing-collar jacket, and a pink long skirt.

She walked along the path toward Jia Cong’s courtyard; the cold wind lifted her skirt, revealing her slender, willow-like waist—youthful and graceful.

When she pushed open the slightly ajar courtyard gate, finding the yard silent and empty, she went straight to the main hall.

Opening the hall door, she saw the incense brazier warm, yet only Qing Wen sat inside.

Dressed in a crimson floral-patterned silk vest, her slender waist tied with a bright red embroidered sash, her cloud-like hair adorned with deep red palace flowers—exquisitely lovely.

In her hand, she held a bamboo embroidery frame, threading needle and silk with swift, nimble motions—pleasing to watch.

Zi Juan smiled: “Such a large courtyard—why are you the only one guarding it? Where are the other girls?”

Qing Wen laughed: “Oh, it’s Zi Juan sister! What brings you here at noon?”

Today’s coincidence: Ping’er and Wu’er went to the Eastern Mansion; Zhi Shao left early this morning for Muniyuan outside the West City.

Because of the war outside, Abbess Xiushan and Miaoyu live alone beyond the city walls. Young Master and Zhi Shao were worried, so they brought them to live in the mansion for a while.

When Zhi Shao left, she took several maids from this courtyard to help pack and organize belongings.

Qi Guan and Dou Guan were called away by Fourth Miss—no one knows where they went to play.

Ying Lian is a bookworm, hiding in the study reading idle books, glued to her seat—can’t even be pulled away. So it’s just me, the lonely ghost left behind.”

…

Qing Wen noticed the bundle in Zi Juan’s hand and smiled: “What good thing did you bring?”