Chapter 386: Ambush Battle

The capital, Taihe Hall.

“Enough!”

“This won’t do, that won’t do—why don’t you take my dragon throne instead!”

Emperor Yongning raged in rebuke.

The content of the earlier high-level meeting had leaked out.

After time fermented it, instead of fading, it grew even more heated.

The civil and military officials in court either fiercely opposed the tax reform or remained utterly silent.

This left Emperor Yongning utterly isolated.

To quell the turmoil in court and among the people, he had made many efforts, but he had overestimated his own credibility.

The series of reckless maneuvers he had employed to seize power early on had ultimately come back to haunt him.

The officials fiercely opposed the tax reform not only because their own interests were threatened, but also because they feared the emperor would recklessly disrupt things.

In the past few years, whenever domestic stability was achieved, court disputes inevitably erupted.

This involved faults on both the ministers’ part and the emperor’s.

Every initiative began with good intentions, yet each ended in chaos.

Emperor Yongning believed the officials were not working hard enough; the officials thought the emperor’s demands were too idealistic.

Many matters were such that pulling one hair set the whole body in motion.

Doing nothing brought no trouble; once action was taken, problems arose everywhere.

The combat effectiveness of the Da Yu bureaucracy had long since declined; any complex operation was a test of the bureaucratic system.

“Your Majesty, please calm down!”

“Your subjects have never harbored such treasonous thoughts!”

Seeing the emperor sulk, the officials hurriedly knelt to beg forgiveness.

Originally, it was they who were sulking, attempting to pressure the emperor into abandoning his reforms through a show of force.

Their predecessors had carried out such maneuvers countless times.

Almost every new emperor, upon ascending the throne, would go through a round of such turmoil.

Some with weak wills compromised within two or three years, entering a model of joint rule between emperor and ministers.

Others with strong will and political acumen naturally suppressed the ministers.

Either ministerial authority curbs imperial power, or imperial power crushes ministerial authority—this has been the age-old game for over a thousand years.

Their struggle was normal power rivalry; Da Yu had long since developed a system for it.

But with Emperor Yongning, some changes had emerged.

Beyond the power struggle, the empire itself now faced internal turmoil and external threats.

Besides daily power struggles, everyone now had to find ways to maintain imperial stability.

The elder ministers all hoped the emperor would slow down and avoid stirring up trouble.

As for the younger, more aggressive faction, they stood at the back of the line and had no voice for now.

The former reformists had already been purged in earlier political struggles.

Now, trying to extend the tax reform from the eight southeastern provinces to the entire empire, he couldn’t even find anyone willing to carry it out.

So much so that Emperor Yongning had briefly considered recalling several senior figures from the noble faction to court to push for comprehensive tax reform.

But that was only a thought—the noble faction’s chaos in the south didn’t cut into their own flesh.

But if it came to the north, the situation changed: the noble faction were also vested beneficiaries of the existing system; cutting their own flesh was far too difficult.

By convention, if no one in court supported him, the emperor should have backed down.

No one expected Emperor Yongning had learned to sulk too—he came out swinging hard from the start.

Saying he’d “give up the dragon throne” was effectively accusing the ministers of bullying the emperor.

Though their actions indeed bordered on bullying the emperor, they could never openly admit it.

Since the issue couldn’t be resolved, they might as well resort to magical warfare.

Throughout history, powerful ministers who bullied emperors were arrogant and domineering—they never knelt to beg forgiveness.

If word of today’s incident spread, it would become a tale of a young, foolish emperor, with ministers humbly kneeling to counsel him.

“You…”

Emperor Yongning swallowed the curse he was about to hurl.

The ministers had made their stance clear through action; pushing further would only lead to mutual destruction.

“Fine. The new tax law will not be extended for now.”

Emperor Yongning spoke with bitter resentment.

Deep inside, he had resolved to cultivate a circle of loyal officials in court.

He never wanted to endure another such act of coercion again.

He had merely mentioned tax reform once in a high-level meeting—he had never even raised it publicly in court.

Merely hinting at the idea had sparked a massive uproar; any normal person would feel suffocated.

“Your Majesty is wise!”

Having achieved their desired outcome, the ministers ignored the emperor’s grim expression and rubbed salt into the wound.

At this moment, Wan Junhui was the most embarrassed—this mess was his fault as Chief Minister.

But there was nothing he could do; Emperor Yongning was too diligent.

If only he’d learned from the former emperor—who, when trouble arose, simply hid in the palace and never showed his face—this scene of ministers forcing the emperor would never have happened.

Or if he’d just had thicker skin and outright denied it.

The officials who attended the meeting would never expose themselves.

Anyone else who dared to speak out would be accused of planting spies in the palace—a crime punishable by execution and family annihilation.

With no evidence at all, it was mere rumor; under the pretext of harshly punishing false accusers, he could even eliminate those he disliked.

The emperor himself refused to use this ready-made imperial tactic—he was helpless.

If he couldn’t handle the emperor, he certainly couldn’t control the ministers.

Emperor Yongning appointed him Chief Minister precisely because his faction was weak, lacking the power to monopolize authority.

The effect was clear—he had never monopolized power.

The cost was that when problems arose, he, as Chief Minister, could not suppress the ministers either.

“Your Majesty, the Prefect of Qiongzhou has submitted a memorial: the Annan people sent assassins disguised as an envoy delegation, attempting to infiltrate the capital to commit treason.”

“The envoy group has already been detained by the Qiongzhou authorities; the court is requested to issue judgment.”

Wen Siyuan immediately reported.

As Minister of the Honglu Temple, under normal circumstances, he should not have meddled in this mess.

But the Chief Minister had given him a hint, so he had no choice but to raise the matter and shift the awkward atmosphere in the hall.

Deep inside, he cursed the entire family of the Prefect of Qiongzhou.

If assassins disguised as envoys, why not report it directly to the court? Why send the documents to the Honglu Temple?

They did handle foreign envoys, yes—but their job was only reception.

Foreign diplomacy was irrelevant.

In international relations, Da Yu was heaven itself; all vassal states were merely to obey.

“Ministry of Justice, how should these vassal-state assassins be punished?”

Emperor Yongning asked coldly.

“Your Majesty, according to Da Yu law, the assassins should be publicly executed and their vassal state held accountable.”

Minister of Justice Di Deyu immediately gave his answer.

In truth, Da Yu law was so extensive he wasn’t even sure such a provision existed.

Not remembering it didn’t stop him from giving an answer.

Da Yu had never been a purely legalistic state; human rule had always outweighed legal rule.

Da Yu law had to conform to collective moral views; if conflict arose, the Ministry of Justice held the authority to interpret the law.

Adding a new clause to convict them was not impossible.

After all, phrases like “vassal state sending assassins disguised as envoys to plot treason” were too obscure.

Da Yu had endured for 280 years—this was the first time such a thing had ever happened.

No normal person could imagine such a bizarre, absurd event occurring right beside them.

Had the two nations not been at war, the court would surely have dispatched investigators to trace the full story.

“Hmm.”

“A pack of petty clowns—let the Qiongzhou Prefecture handle them according to law.”

“As for sending envoys to demand accountability from Annan—skip it.”

“Tell Marquis Hanshui: strike them hard. I don’t want Annan to exist in this world.”

Emperor Yongning spoke with murderous intent.

Clearly, these Annan people had run straight into his gun barrel.

The emperor, seething with pent-up rage, had no outlet—then they came right to him.

The ministers unusually offered no opposition to the emperor’s decision.

The emperor venting his anger on Annan was far better than turning it on them.

Even the most active censors fell silent at this moment.

The information everyone received was that Annan had invaded Guangxi, and Dayu was merely responding defensively—there was no question of reckless militarism.

Now they’ve sent assassins to provoke us; if Annan continues to exist, where will we save face?

Dayu was founded on lessons learned from the Song, and in dealing with foreign enemies, its political stance is far more resolute.

…

At dawn, as the sky just began to lighten, the Annan camp outside the city was empty.

Standing on the city gate tower, watching the abandoned enemy camp, Li Mu smirked with disdain.

“Issue orders: have all Guangxi garrisons sortie to pursue the enemy.”

Tell the troops to latch onto the enemy’s rear and strike hard, gradually devouring their forces.

This campaign prioritizes annihilating the enemy’s combat strength—not rapid victory.”

If the hundred-thousand-strong Annan army stood firm in formation, wiping them out would come at a heavy cost.

But now the battlefield has become the march route; even if the enemy departed last night, their rearguard has only advanced a few li.

At this distance, Dayu troops can catch up quickly.

The one-line snake formation looks imposing, but in actual combat, the head and tail cannot support each other.

These basic military truths must have been pointed out to the Annan King.

If nothing goes wrong, the enemy has surely assigned a rearguard.

In the past, Li Mu would have repeatedly warned his subordinates to beware of ambushes.

Now, he doesn’t need to.

After so many wars, if one lacks even this basic battlefield instinct, one is fit to be only a Platoon Leader.

Climbing to higher rank would only harm oneself and others.

“Yes, sir!”

Upon receiving the order, Wu Dagé immediately sprang into action.

Compared to before, Li Mu’s faction had now become institutionalized.

Previously, military orders were passed verbally; now, all such orders required official documents stamped with the Commander’s seal and encrypted with unique authentication codes.

This sacrificed some efficiency, but to prevent blame-shifting and bureaucratic infighting, this step had to be taken.

Relying solely on verbal orders made forgery far too easy.

In foreign wars, it didn’t matter; no soldier, no matter how desperate, would defect to Annan, a dead-end cause.

But if it turned into an internal war, all manner of deceit and treachery would surface—and bribing insiders would become routine.

Li Mu was certain his own ranks contained spies planted by other political factions.

With the methods of this era, no internal investigation could guarantee absolute purity.

He’d avoided trouble not only by being cautious in personnel choices, but mainly because everything he did stayed within the bounds of political rules.

Even if he occasionally crossed some lines, these were not matters of principle.

If it reached the imperial court, he’d likely be scolded and fined a few months’ salary.

Only during factional struggles might he lose his post.

In times of chaos, for a general with outstanding battlefield achievements, such punishments were negligible.

The court now cannot do without the Merit Nobility faction; unless the Emperor had lost his mind and decided to discard the bow after shooting the birds, he’d dismiss him today and reinstate him tomorrow.

In an instant, the tightly closed city gates slowly opened, and the imperial troops marched out in orderly formation.

Watching the departing troops, Li Mu’s mind conjured images of distant battlefields.

…

“Boom… boom… boom…”

“Who fired the cannons? I haven’t given the order yet!”

At the sound of artillery, Shi Yufeng angrily demanded an explanation.

As an aging minister disfavored by the Annan Emperor, the miserable task of rearguard duty had fallen to him without surprise.

To block the Dayu army, he’d set an ambush along the only viable route, planning to deliver a crushing first blow.

He never imagined that, despite all precautions, his own artillery fired before the enemy even entered the ambush zone.

“General, the cannon fire isn’t from our side.

Judging by the sound, the rearguard has encountered trouble.

Perhaps the enemy took a side path, got ahead, and ran into our rearguard.”

Hearing this, Shi Yufeng’s face darkened.

The border between the two states was long, but the only major road suitable for large armies was Zhennan Pass.

As for how many small trails existed, no one could say.

The rugged mountain paths might halt other troops, but for Guangxi soldiers, they were as easy as walking on flat ground.

A force of a hundred or so, carrying rations, could slip through without difficulty.

Stopping the Annan army entirely was impossible, but disrupting their retreat and slowing their withdrawal was feasible.

“Forget the rearguard—our mission is to hold the enemy for three days.

If they haven’t reached safety after that long, they deserve their fate!

Keep everyone hidden—don’t let the enemy…”

Before he finished speaking, the crack of Dayu arquebuses and the roar of field artillery shattered his illusions.

“Bang, bang, bang…”

“Boom… boom… boom…”

He didn’t know where they’d been exposed, but the fact remained: the enemy had discovered their ambush.

Enemies now appeared not only on the front, but on both flanks.

“Deploy everything we prepared—drop it all, then set the mountains on fire!

Afterward, evacuate this position immediately.”

Shi Yufeng gave the order without hesitation.

What was meant to be an ambush had turned into a defensive battle—he was helpless.

The expensive preparations—fire oil, boulders, straw balls—could no longer serve their intended purpose, but he wouldn’t let them fall into Dayu hands.

If he couldn’t kill the enemy, he’d use them to buy time.

The mission was rearguard: delay the enemy’s advance. Victories were secondary.

Once the fire took hold, it would inevitably slow the enemy’s pursuit.

In an instant, flames erupted from both sides of the mountain path, blocking the road entirely.

Thick, rolling smoke was visible for miles.

“Damn it—the enemy is far more cunning than we thought!

Order the vanguard to organize firefighting immediately—don’t let the fire spread!”

Li Sanqi urgently ordered.

To lead his first independent campaign and face this—no one had it worse.

(End of Chapter)