Chapter 341: Fate

Your Majesty, after the great defeat at Wuchang, the State of Chu is finished.

Even if the Chu King barely escapes, he can only cling to life for a few more days.

After the fall of Chu, the imperial army’s next target will surely be us.

At this point, we must expand our army and prepare for war to face the coming upheaval.

Once war breaks out, consumption of all strategic supplies will surge dramatically.

The original plan to exchange grain for warhorses must now be halted entirely.

Left Chancellor Hu Ruiyang was the first to state his position.

Halting the horse trade means terminating the plan to train cavalry.

The manpower, funds, and materials already invested cannot be said to be entirely wasted—most of it has gone down the drain.

Though the losses are severe, Wu has no choice now.

After the defeat at Wuchang, they have not only lost troops and officers, but also lost control of Huangzhou and De’an Prefectures.

Next, Jiujiang Prefecture will become the frontline.

The northern prefectures have long since become battlefields.

Wu’s available financial and material resources will inevitably shrink drastically.

Once war begins, consumption of all strategic supplies will skyrocket.

Everything else can be cut, but grain cannot be spared.

“Hmm!”

“Chancellor speaks wisely—war must come first.

Not only is the grain-for-horses plan suspended, but palace repairs are halted as well.

From now on, all palace supply allocations shall be reduced by twenty percent; those deemed excessive shall be canceled outright.”

Fu Haoxuan agreed without hesitation.

Having risen from the chaos of war, he understood the difference between fleeting wealth and lasting power.

At this critical moment of survival, the emperor must lead by example to inspire loyalty below.

“Your Majesty is wise!”

The ministers cried out in unison.

After taking Nanjing, the upper echelons of the rebel army inevitably descended into luxury and debauchery.

As emperor, Fu Haoxuan immediately assembled three palaces, six courts, and seventy-two concubines.

It was not out of lust—during wartime, marriage alliances were vital for securing regional stability.

Early on, he had been too ruthless; gentry families fled at the mere mention of the rebel army.

Still, no matter how far they ran, only the direct branches left; distant relatives always remained.

On his subordinates’ advice, Fu Haoxuan forcibly took these families’ collateral daughters as concubines.

Winning hearts was one goal, but the main purpose was to sow discord between Dayu and the Jiangnan gentry.

The methods were base, but the results were undeniable.

Dayu’s court was rife with factional infighting; hearing that a political rival’s kin had allied with rebels, they would never pass up such an opportunity.

Whether forced or not, they would impeach first and ask questions later.

“Your Majesty, since Chu’s defeat is certain, we need no longer restrain ourselves on the southern front.

Rather than let these lands fall into the hands of the false regime, let our forces take them—it will better serve our cause against Dayu.”

Minister of Rites Hu Yuzhe stepped forward to propose this.

Since Wu’s founding, its territory had not expanded, largely due to the Wu-Chu alliance.

Now that Chu is finished, the alliance is void—this is the perfect moment to expand southward.

Seizing Chu’s territories in Jiangxi and Zhejiang will greatly increase Wu’s strategic space.

With these lands integrated, Wu’s financial and material strength will rival the shattered Dayu’s head-on.

“Minister Hu, is this wise?

After all, they are allies. Attacking Chu will make us the laughingstock of the realm.”

Fu Haoxuan spoke hesitantly.

When he was a bandit, such actions didn’t matter.

Now that he is emperor, he must care about appearances.

“Your Majesty, we naturally cannot strike our ally.

But Chu’s defeat was caused primarily by traitors within betraying them.

To save Chu, we must first eliminate these traitors.

I propose sending eloquent envoys to Chu to persuade its generals to form a deeper anti-Dayu alliance.

Should any refuse, they are surely Dayu's moles within Chu—and must be crushed with thunderous force!

Hu Yuzhe spoke with righteous indignation.

No matter how noble the words, the essence remained betrayal of an ally.

The emperor could not bear this blame—it must fall on his ministers.

After large-scale defections among Chu’s court officials, Wu was also affected.

Fu Haoxuan gave no public sign, but secretly raised his vigilance.

Officials with past ties to Dayu became prime targets for surveillance.

As a defector, Hu Yuzhe, despite his merit in surrendering the city, could not escape suspicion.

“Minister Hu speaks wisely—entrust this matter to the Ministry of Rites and the Ministry of War to coordinate.”

Fu Haoxuan immediately made his decision.

He had long coveted Chu’s territory.

But the alliance had constrained him—until now.

With Chu collapsing and his ministers providing a ready justification for war, there was no need to hesitate.

…

Wuchang City.

“Uncle, it seems we must halt our advance.”

Looking at the compiled battle reports, Li Mu said helplessly.

Earlier, to break the enemy, our inside agents burned the rebel grain depots.

The effect was clear: it shattered rebel morale and secured victory.

Precisely because enemy morale collapsed, imperial forces captured vast numbers of prisoners.

Incomplete estimates place the number of prisoners taken in the Wuchang Campaign at over 350,000.

This number continues to rise.

Adding the earlier 100,000 prisoners, we have captured over half a million in the reconquest of Huguang alone.

Prisoners must be fed.

The rebel army was already short on grain; battlefield captures yielded little.

Suddenly adding so many mouths has placed a heavy burden on imperial logistics.

If we press on, we will collapse not from enemy attacks, but from our own supply lines breaking.

“Ah!”

“What a wasted opportunity!”

Li Yuan sighed.

He, as Viceroy of Huguang, knew full well the scale of the logistical strain.

Though Huguang has been reclaimed, it has just endured war—there is no way to collect much grain in the short term.

The army’s needs rely entirely on supplies from Guangdong, Guangxi, and Fujian.

Yet these three provinces themselves have very limited grain production.

That we have held out this long is already a miracle.

“Not a wasted opportunity—we’ve halted, but the other punitive armies have not.

Before Fu Ni moves, we can seize considerable territory.

Having reclaimed so much land, it is time to pause and regroup.

If you wish, we can retain some of these prisoners in Huguang for land reclamation.

The rest, I plan to exile to the frontier under Dayu law, to strengthen southern defenses.”

Li Mu calmly slipped in his own agenda.

In terms of cost-effectiveness, farming directly in Huguang yields far greater returns.

But Huguang lies deep within Dayu’s heartland, the empire’s granary, under the watchful eyes of court and countryside alike.

To seize unclaimed land as military farmland, as we did in Guangdong and Guangxi, is impossible.

Even if we forced it through, we would face fierce backlash.

With no time for internal scheming, Li Mu simply sent them away.

After a period of labor reform, the unstable elements are weeded out; the rest become excellent laborers.

Dayu lost Annan largely because there were too few Han settlers there.

In the early years of the dynasty, population was too low for large-scale migration.

Never forget the past; it is the teacher of the future. Li Mu would naturally learn from the same mistakes.

The Zhongnanbandao was underdeveloped; ordinary immigrants had no desire to go there.

Exiling rebels required no consent.

“Are you truly determined to become Grand Coordinator of Annan?”

Li Yuan asked, frowning.

Among Đại Việt’s many vassal states, Annan was undoubtedly the most unusual.

Its ability to break away from the Jiaozhi Provincial Administration stemmed not only from court factional struggles but also from its own formidable strength.

With over three hundred thousand troops, it was an absolute giant in Southeast Asia.

If progress went smoothly, fine; but if it accidentally sank into a quagmire, it would become a black mark on his military career.

“Uncle, I wish to leave my name in history!”

Li Mu replied solemnly.

This reason was utterly unassailable.

Though they fought fiercely within the empire, it was still suppression of rebellion—historical judgment would never be high.

To have one’s name recorded, to earn even a single page of documentation, was already a favor from those civil officials.

The records of the Great Victory at Jinan likely contained more detail than those of suppressing rebels.

It wasn’t about revenge; internal unrest was a black history, to be recorded with the subtle brush of the Spring and Autumn Annals.

If Annan were destroyed and the Jiaozhi Provincial Administration restored, it would be different.

Losing Jiaozhi Provincial Administration had long been regarded as a disgrace by all of Đại Việt.

During the late emperor’s reign, plans were made to launch an expedition to reclaim Annan, but financial constraints prevented action.

A war of national annihilation with the character of avenging humiliation was most highly esteemed.

“I knew it—you young people could never settle down.

Going south to stir things up now is better than lingering in court, annoying others.

But you must carefully assess the risks involved.

If you lack confidence, just fight a few symbolic battles to ensure Guangxi doesn’t fall.

Annan’s climate is harsh, and it’s a remote, poor land; whether you recover it or not isn’t important.”

Li Yuan spoke with solemn gravity.

Sometimes, when junior descendants are too capable, it becomes a burden.

A military commander like Li Mu, who achieved great feats at such a young age, was most feared.

Drawing from historical precedent, returning to the capital to join court struggles meant either dying mid-fight in internal strife or overthrowing the throne.

It wasn’t a question of ambition; the situation forced them upward.

Once the emperor developed murderous intent, and one refused to sit idle, the only choice was to strike back.

In a clan-based society, one’s loss was the clan’s loss; one’s glory was the clan’s glory.

If Li Mu became entangled, the entire Li clan would be dragged in involuntarily.

No matter the outcome, it was not what Li Yuan wished to see.

“Uncle, you’re mistaken.

Annan is not poor—it is extremely wealthy.

According to gathered intelligence, Annan contains several fertile plains, but the Annanese have failed to develop them.

In my view, present-day Annan is like Jiangnan a thousand years ago.

Once developed, it could support tens of millions.

The Annanese have already laid the groundwork; subsequent development will be far easier.”

Li Mu smiled.

To gain clan support, certain information had to be revealed.

Rebuilding another Jiangnan carried immense profits.

Once the truth was confirmed, even the most conservative scholar-officials would instantly become fervent advocates of war.

“Are you certain?”

Li Yuan exclaimed in shock.

If it were truly another Jiangnan, it could not be abandoned.

Guanzhong suffered constant natural disasters and human calamities; it could become a battlefield at any moment.

Staying put and developing meant eventually being drawn into war.

For the sake of family continuity, migration of clan members was inevitable.

But good land was already occupied; as powerful outsiders, wherever they went, they would face resistance.

Originally, we planned to disperse clan members into Guangdong and Guangxi, relying on official protection to establish roots—no great difficulty.

Now, with a better option suddenly available, there’s no need to fight local powers for land.

Eating alone isn’t realistic, but seizing the initiative remains essential.

“Uncle, without absolute certainty, I wouldn’t dare speak rashly.

Developing Annan requires time; without decades of effort, results won’t appear.

To reach Jiangnan’s level, it may take centuries.”

Li Mu replied conservatively.

To gain trust, what one says must lie within the listener’s understanding.

“If Jiaozhi truly is this wealthy, you may exploit the information gap to seek hereditary rule over the Jiaozhi Provincial Administration.

The civil officials are eager to weaken our noble clans.

Find an opportunity to subtly push behind the scenes—they’ll propose it themselves.

Recovering the Jiaozhi Provincial Administration demands massive manpower, resources, and funding.

The support your family can provide is but a drop in the ocean.

I’ll try to remain two more years as Viceroy of Huguang to supply you with materiel.

As for captured prisoners and their families, they will all be exiled to Lingnan for military service.

All prisoners taken in subsequent pacification campaigns will be treated the same.

The conditions aren’t ripe yet; hold off for now. Once you’ve invaded Annan, send them there.

I’ll coordinate this with the Marquis of Cheng and the Marquis of Wuyang.

As the price, you and I will relinquish all future pacification battle merits.”

Li Yuan’s sudden shift startled Li Mu.

Moments ago he spoke of Annan; now he called it Jiaozhi—clearly intending to claim it entirely.

To help him realize his plan, he was even willing to exile millions.

Clearly, the allure of fertile land to traditional scholar-officials was unparalleled.

“Hereditary rule over the Jiaozhi Provincial Administration is indeed an excellent choice.

Uncle, rest assured—I won’t disappoint you.

The Annanese king has died; the new king has just ascended. By custom, he will petition the court for a royal investiture.

The new Annanese king is arrogant and will surely provoke His Majesty in the state letter.

When the court refuses their unreasonable demands, Annan will likely launch an invasion of the border within no time.”

Li Mu immediately laid out a plan for the new Annanese king.

No matter what the state letter contained, the version sent to the capital would deliver a brutal slap to Emperor Yongning’s face.

Merely verbal provocation might anger the emperor and ministers.

But at this moment, the court would never initiate a major war.

Yet if news arrived of Annan’s invasion, even if the court didn’t want to fight, it would be forced to order troops to march.

Fundamentally, the provocation in the state letter was meant to convince the court that Annan would invade Guangxi.

…

(End of Chapter)