Chapter 348: Another Marriage Alliance

Chengdu Prefecture.

Days of continuous battle had left the defending troops physically and mentally exhausted.

With no reinforcements arriving, no matter how hard the officials tried to boost morale, it could not stop the collapse of morale.

“Your Excellency, the rebel forces’ assaults are growing fiercer.”

Yesterday, three hundred and eighty-six soldiers were killed, and over two hundred were wounded.

At this rate, we won’t hold out much longer.”

Regional Commander Zhong Chenliang spoke with a bitter expression.

The number of dead exceeded the wounded, mainly due to backward medical conditions.

Minor wounds received only basic bandaging; serious injuries had no treatment at all.

To ease suffering and claim a pension, comrades often ended the lives of the gravely wounded themselves.

A daily loss of six hundred soldiers may seem small, but Chengdu Prefecture has been under siege for over half a year.

Had weather not forced the rebels to halt their attacks for a time, they would not have held out this long.

“Where are the Yunnan-Guizhou allied forces?”

Xu Wenyue asked, frowning.

The Great Ming’s power was declining, and its control over local regions was gradually weakening.

A few years ago, one order from him would prompt immediate action from troops across the land.

Now things had changed; subordinates began selectively obeying his orders as Viceroy.

The local tribal troops of Shu, citing rebel roadblocks, refused to send reinforcements to Chengdu Prefecture.

The Yunnan-Guizhou allied forces accepted the order, but encountered rebel ambushes during execution.

After a major battle, the Yunnan-Guizhou allied forces, having suffered losses, became sluggish.

They had originally agreed to launch an offensive toward Chongqing Prefecture, forcing the rebels to split their forces and relieve the siege of Chengdu.

Yet after months of delays, they still engaged in only minor skirmishes.

“Your Excellency, the Yunnan-Guizhou allied forces remain in Luzhou Prefecture and have not attacked Chongqing.”

Our envoys sent there have received no response.

They seem to be deliberately avoiding us, refusing to carry out the order to attack Chongqing.”

Lu Junliang replied with a dark expression.

Chongqing Prefecture’s location is critical; only by capturing this eastern gateway and opening the route to Huguang can reinforcements be secured.

This is the best route for the imperial court to reinforce Sichuan.

Otherwise, they would have to detour through Hanzhong and Guizhou.

The difficulty of Shu’s roads—harder than ascending to heaven—is no joke.

Detouring is bad enough, but the key issue is the inability to use the Yangtze River for logistical support.

Transport is difficult, and both Guizhou and Shaanxi are now destitute, suffering severe food shortages.

The Yunnan-Guizhou allied forces’ rapid entry into Shu was largely because local administrations wanted to reduce their own fiscal burdens.

Now, after months of war, the devastated prefectures of Shu can no longer provide logistical support for additional troops.

“Damn bastards!”

“The collapse of the empire’s situation is due to these damn soldiers!”

…

Xu Wenyue could not help but curse aloud.

Use Chengdu Prefecture as bait to draw the rebel main force into siege, masking the imperial army’s plan to retake Chongqing Prefecture.

The plan was sound, but the subordinates were a bunch of useless fools.

The Yunnan-Guizhou allied forces failed to capture Chongqing on schedule, exposing his entire strategic layout.

Even if the rebels did not react immediately, they must have woken up by now.

They will inevitably strengthen Chongqing’s defenses, leaving no opening for the imperial army.

The hard-won deal with the noble clans to secure their reinforcements for Shu has now been wasted.

The imperial army gained not a single benefit from retaking Huguang.

“Your Excellency, calm down!”

“Since the Yunnan-Guizhou allied forces are useless, we must adjust our plan to hold Chengdu Prefecture.”

Without reinforcements, the city’s troops and civilians alone cannot hold out much longer.”

Provincial Administration Commissioner Li Yongliang offered his counsel gently.

Chengdu Prefecture’s geography ensures that prolonged defense will inevitably lead to its fall.

Throughout history, countless Chengdu defense battles have occurred; without reinforcements, few have held out for six months.

They have already held out for over half a year; continuing to hold will only delay the inevitable fall.

“We must hold, even if we cannot hold.”

One day held is one day gained.

I have decided to die with the city; if any of you wish to leave, break out on your own!

Xu Wenyue refused decisively.

Logically, abandoning Chengdu Prefecture and retreating to northwestern Sichuan to continue resistance would be the best choice.

But politically, such a move would be fatal.

Whoever issued the retreat order would bear immense political pressure.

Most crucially, even if they wanted to retreat now, they might not be able to extract the troops.

One misstep, and retreat would turn into total rout.

Xu Wenyue knew the quality of the garrison troops inside the city.

If discipline were strict enough to allow orderly, alternating cover during withdrawal, they might still hold Chengdu.

Now, retreat would serve only to give the city’s nobles a legitimate excuse to flee—nothing more.

“Your Excellency, calm down!”

“Blessed by the Emperor’s grace, we have been entrusted to govern this land.”

Failing to protect our people and territory is already a grave sin.

At such a critical moment, how could we abandon the city and flee!”

Seeing Xu Wenyue’s fury, all present quickly declared their loyalty.

“Self-initiated breakout” sounded noble; in truth, it meant “desertion.”

The Great Ming never showed mercy to deserters.

Not only would they lose their heads, but their families would be punished too.

Especially now, with the Viceroy choosing to die for the city, their escape would bring even worse consequences.

The blame for Shu’s collapse and Chengdu’s fall would almost certainly fall on them.

Given Emperor Yongning’s nature, if captured and sent to the capital, they might be flayed alive.

…

Guangzhou Prefecture.

Since confirming his wife’s pregnancy, Li Mu had become a full-time caretaker, devoting daily time only to official duties.

Beneath a pavilion, Li Mu and his wife watched a maid play the qin.

The melodious, flowing music drifted into their ears like celestial tones, soothing their spirits and relaxing their bodies.

“Your Excellency, the Marquis of Wuyang has arrived.”

The maid’s voice shattered the tranquil atmosphere.

“Show him in at once!”

Li Mu sighed helplessly.

Some things are simply unavoidable.

The Marquis of Wuyang had come personally; he could not refuse to see him.

“My dear, I must go attend to matters. I’ll return to you shortly.”

Saying this, Li Mu rose to head toward the reception hall.

“Wait, husband—change your clothes first.”

Jing Yaqing immediately reminded him.

Compared to Li Mu, as a traditional noblewoman, she placed far greater emphasis on propriety.

When receiving subordinates, attire did not matter; no one would criticize it.

But facing a superior, one could not be so careless.

“Fine.”

Li Mu replied reluctantly.

In the feudal dynasty, ritual governed every aspect of society.

From clothing and food to housing and travel, every detail was bound by propriety.

…

Entering the reception hall, Li Mu noticed a young man beside the Marquis of Wuyang.

“What are you standing there for? Quickly pay your respects to your cousin, Master Li!”

The Marquis of Wuyang’s words startled Li Mu.

The Li family was a great clan, with many cousins of the same generation, but status and rank differed—not everyone had the privilege to address him as brother right away.

Aside from close blood relatives, everyone else had to respectfully address him as “Marquis.”

Li Mu had met all these people, but this man before him was not among them.

“Greetings, Cousin Mu!”

The young man immediately bowed in salute.

“Viceroy, who is this?”

Li Mu asked, puzzled.

A distant collateral relative of his own generation appearing out of nowhere wasn’t strange—but for this man to be personally brought and introduced by the Marquis of Wuyang? That was entirely different!

“Hahaha…”

“This is my eldest legitimate son.

Recently, the Empress Dowager took it upon herself to play matchmaker and betrothed my son to your uncle’s eldest daughter. Would it be unreasonable for him to call you Cousin?”

The Marquis of Wuyang replied with a smile.

For newcomers seeking to quickly integrate into the aristocratic circle, the simplest move was a political marriage.

The only question was whether the Emperor would approve such a consolidation among the top aristocratic families.

After all, the current aristocratic faction held power and political resources far beyond what they had just a few years ago.

Considering the Empress Dowager’s special status, Li Mu quickly set aside his concerns.

With two top aristocratic families involved, the Empress Dowager could not have succeeded in arranging this match without the Emperor’s tacit approval.

The purpose was simple: to send a political signal to the world that the Emperor trusted the aristocracy.

With the rebellion entering a critical phase, from the Emperor’s standpoint, he could not afford any disruption.

Releasing this political signal now would aid the coming suppression of the rebellion.

“Oh!”

“We’re family—what’s not allowed?”

Li Mu replied with a smile.

In an era where marriages were arranged by parents and matchmakers, once the elders agreed, the betrothal was sealed.

His cousin’s marriage was being handled by the Marquis of Zhenyuan and his wife—Li Mu had no need to worry about it.

The Marquis of Wuyang had come with his eldest son merely to inform him of the outcome, not to seek his opinion.

“Since we’re family, I’ll leave my son in your care.

I originally planned for him to grow slowly, but military merit is so hard to earn. Miss this chance, and it’ll be difficult to gain any again.

He’s never been on the battlefield—be patient with him. Let him stay by your side and learn, and perhaps he can pick up some military merit along the way.

Aristocratic youths are tough; if he misbehaves, beat him without holding back—I won’t hold it against you.”

The Marquis of Wuyang spoke frankly.

The distribution of military merit had already been agreed upon in advance—just follow the arrangement.

The only issue was that no one had mentioned he’d be responsible for mentoring a “disciple”—but since his old superior, the Marquis of Wuyang, had personally asked, Li Mu naturally had to agree.

“This is simple. Three of my cousins serve in the headquarters. If you’re willing, join them.”

Li Mu immediately proposed the arrangement.

One sheep is herded; a flock is herded too.

How much one learns depends entirely on one’s own talent.

Compared to established aristocratic families, the Marquis of Wuyang’s household had only just begun accumulating military experience.

Relying solely on widely available military texts, without extraordinary talent, it was nearly impossible to cultivate a capable general.

“Very well. It’s settled.”

“By the way, while you’ve been resting at home, you may not have noticed—the situation in Sichuan has become extremely dangerous.

The Yunnan-Guizhou allied forces failed to retake the eastern gateway of Sichuan; Grand Secretary Xu’s strategy to lure the enemy trapped him in a desperate position.

The imperial reinforcements dispatched by the court were halted halfway by the Guanzhong rebels and cannot provide support to Sichuan anytime soon.

The reinforcements sent by the Marquis of Zhenyuan from Huguang have also been blocked at Kuimen and cannot advance into central Sichuan.

To prevent the rebels from launching a counterattack, His Majesty sent a secret edict ordering us to swiftly exterminate the rebel Fu.”

As he spoke, the Marquis of Wuyang’s expression grew grave.

He did have grievances with Xu Wenyue, but that was merely a temporary clash of tempers.

Even if he wished to retaliate, he could not sacrifice all of Sichuan.

With imperial reinforcements unable to enter, Grand Secretary Xu, trapped in Chengdu, could only rely on himself to find a way out.

Full imperial support would only come after the Fu rebels were crushed.

The court’s strategic plan to deal with Jiangnan first, then Sichuan, was undoubtedly correct.

But for Grand Secretary Xu and his group, it was cruel—effectively abandoned by the court.

Rubbing his forehead, Li Mu silently groaned.

He had thought that after eliminating the Wei rebels, he could retreat to the rear, resting and preparing for the campaign against Annan.

From the Marquis of Wuyang’s tone, it was clear he expected Li Mu to return to the front lines to command the army and crush the Fu rebels as quickly as possible.

If that happened, the invasion of Annan would inevitably be delayed.

“Viceroy, once the autumn grain is stored, you should lead the troops personally against Fu.

The imperial forces should launch a full-scale offensive from Huguang, Jiangxi, and Zhejiang simultaneously, while the Liaodong forces will join in to exploit the chaos.

With four-pronged encirclement, the rebels won’t be able to hold out.

Ignore enemy movements—advance steadily, methodically, compressing the rebels’ strategic maneuvering space.”

Li Mu thought for a moment and said.

He could offer strategies and assist in commanding the battle, but he had no interest in being the Regional Commander.

Sometimes, too much merit was a burden.

He needed to promote several distinguished generals to dilute his own prominence.

Otherwise, securing the post of hereditary governor of Annan later would be difficult.

Reason told him the feudal dynasty could not survive the Little Ice Age.

No matter how hard the civil and military officials of Great Yu struggled, faced with endless natural disasters and human calamities, they could only accept reality.

To prolong the dynasty’s life, one had to either abandon the north and relocate south, or open new granaries.

Two options seemed available—but in truth, neither was feasible.

Great Yu’s fundamental nature meant it could not abandon its responsibilities and retreat into a corner merely to preserve rule.

Opening new granaries, given Great Yu’s current capacity for mobilization, was impossible within the necessary timeframe.

The state might collapse before the granaries were even built.

After all, Great Yu’s bureaucracy was far too “honest.”

They dared to embezzle military funds, let alone administrative expenditures.

Of the funds allocated by the court, if two or three percent actually reached their intended purpose, the officials were considered conscientious.

Sometimes, funds were entirely siphoned off before they even left the capital.

Li Mu’s ambition for Annan was merely to seize the most fertile part—the Red River Plain—and then slowly absorb the rest.

Swallowing all of Annan at once would choke him.

For a regional lord, this foundation was enough to carve out an independent domain.

To fill Great Yu’s grain deficit, it would be like a drop in the ocean.

Only by conquering the entire Zhongnan Peninsula and developing it could he hope to offset the famine in the northern provinces.

“I can serve as Regional Commander—but you must accompany the army and command alongside me.

This war is too critical—it must be won, not lost.

The three armies combined will mobilize a total of three hundred thousand troops.

We will march from Jiangxi, positioned centrally, responsible for coordinating the two flanks.

I myself admit I cannot do it; neither your father-in-law nor your uncle has confidence in their ability.

Across all of Great Yu, those who have commanded large-scale operations are few, and only you have achieved decisive victory.”

As the Marquis of Wuyang finished speaking, before Li Mu could respond, Zheng Jiarong beside him was startled.

He had assumed his father’s claim of lacking military talent was merely modesty.

After all, the world praised the Marquis of Wuyang as a legendary general, with a long record of glorious victories.

Yet this scene revealed that his father truly lacked the ability to command large armies—and even the other two aristocratic leaders had no confidence.

After a brief moment of shock, Zheng Jiarong instantly understood why his father had sent him here to learn.

“Alright.”

Li Mu reluctantly agreed.

In the end, there was no escaping it—building strong fortresses and fighting slow, grinding battles still tested a general’s military ability.

With three hundred thousand troops operating together, if the Regional Commander lacked competence, he might not even know where his own forces were.

In fact, the highest-ranking commander in Great Yu to have ever led the largest army was Xu Wenyue during his tenure as Viceroy of Five Provinces.

But his military ability was limited; he frequently mishandled troop movements and suffered repeated defeats at the hands of the rebels.

Fortunately, the rebels at the time also lacked experience commanding large-scale operations; both sides were amateurs clashing, which is why neither side was utterly destroyed.

Later, thanks to Li Mu stabbing the rebel army in the back and reclaiming vast territories, they could barely claim victory in the battle.

Compared to before, the rebel army has long been transformed beyond recognition.

The rebel army never lacks manpower; major military operations routinely mobilize hundreds of thousands of troops.

Even if they were nothing but a rabble, simply moving such large forces trained the commander’s strategic ability.

If anyone else took command, they might truly suffer a crushing defeat.

(End of Chapter)