Chapter 276: The Wind (2-in-1, Continuing to Repay Debts)

On the twenty-sixth day of the third month, the wind in Yanjing remained as it was.

Nianhan led a hundred or eighty armored warriors out early in the morning, moving slowly toward the Yanjing Minister Tai left by the Liao state. As he advanced, countless Jin nobles, each with their own attendants and armored cavalry, gathered one after another.

It must be known that the dignified Grand Marshal Wanyan Nianhan, having been a top figure in the Great Jin for decades, always held both military and political power—he was no fool. He knew well that if they truly practiced democracy at the highest level, with only three or four of them, if the three brothers on the other side managed to win over Talan and others, although nothing would fundamentally go wrong, losing face and then resorting to force would seem undignified.

Therefore, he had long notified many of his old subordinates and friends, all hereditary Meng'an and Mouke, to surround the Minister Tai. First, because the rumors were bad, for safety's sake; second, to pressure Wushu and the others; third, if things turned ugly on the spot, he could directly open the main hall doors of the Minister Tai and go out to speak with these people—then even if the Ancestor were alive, he would have to grit his teeth and bear it.

Of course, if the Ancestor Wanyan Aguda were still alive, how could there be all this mess?

And so, Nianhan advanced unhurriedly and calmly. When he left, there were only those hundred or eighty armored knights, but by the time he reached the intersection before the Minister Tai, he had gathered a force of nearly a thousand, with a truly imposing presence.

It was here that Wanyan Nianhan saw Wanyan Yinshu coming from the direction of the Minister Tai. He naturally dismounted to face him, but seeing the other man approaching with his mouth open yet uttering not a single sound, it seemed strange. So, as he moved forward, he was about to open his mouth to question him.

However, just then, as Nianhan reached the street corner, a gust of wind swept in from the side. Though it wasn't enough to stir up sand and stones, it was enough to make people lose their voices and shield themselves... Nianhan then realized why Yinshu had been silent for so long.

"Yanjing is fine in every way, except this spring wind blows fiercely." Only after the gust passed did Nianhan turn back and laugh at the Meng'an and Mouke who had followed him. "I'll talk to Wushu and the others; let's all go inside to take shelter from the wind."

The speaker meant nothing, but the listener took it to heart. Yinshu, who had just opened his mouth for a long time only to be struck mute, sighed inwardly but felt somewhat relieved. Not only that, among the accompanying Meng'an and Mouke, many who were perceptive couldn't help but let their thoughts wander.

Soon, someone spoke up directly:

"It's just a bit windy. Yanjing is still better than Huining Prefecture—more people, and there are ready-made palaces and the Minister Tai. In my opinion, why doesn't the Grand Marshal discuss with the Bogilie about moving the capital here? It would make it easier to manage Hebei."

At these words, the crowd below buzzed with agreement, and even Nianhan was momentarily tempted.

To be sure, the Great Jin's capital was Huining Prefecture (near present-day Harbin), but that location was a result of the thinking when the state was founded, when they hadn't even considered destroying the Liao. Now, it naturally seemed too far north, unable to effectively control the southern territories, especially the Hebei region.

But why had there been no talk of moving the capital before?

There were only two reasons.

One was that the Great Jin had long adopted the Liao political tradition of constantly moving the central government according to the seasons... going to Huining Prefecture in summer, coming to Yanjing in winter, and possibly stopping at Liaoyang in between depending on time and weather. Even Nianhan himself, to control Hebei and Hedong, often scurried between key towns like Hezhong Prefecture, Taiyuan Prefecture, Xijing (Datong), Zhending Prefecture, and Great Ming Prefecture... The significance of a capital was not absolute.

The other reason was related to the distribution of power within the Great Jin.

As everyone knew, after the Great Jin Ancestor Aguda died and the Jin army successfully created the Jingkang Incident, for a considerable period afterward, three major powers stood in a tripod within the Great Jin. This division affected almost every aspect, including the political center.

For instance, the Eastern Route Army occupied central and southern Hebei, making Zhending Prefecture and Great Ming Prefecture natural new military and political centers; the Western Route Army occupied Hedong and the original Sixteen Prefectures of Youyan, creating special political atmospheres in Hezhong Prefecture, Taiyuan Prefecture, and Xijing (Datong); while the central power of old nobles like Wuqimai mostly lay north of the Yanshan Mountains, naturally striving to maintain the special status of Huining Prefecture and Liaoyang Prefecture.

As for Yanjing, it was originally a meeting point for the three powers, a relatively neutral place. But with Nianhan's recent surge in power and Yinshu becoming the Yanjing Garrison Commander, it had subtly become Nianhan's advantage... In other words, these people thought Nianhan wanted to further strengthen his authority by moving the capital to Yanjing.

And you know, this matter was really timely, so much so that Nianhan seriously pondered it.

Yinshu also wished for this silence to continue.

However, after thinking for a while, Nianhan finally waved his hand: "Today we're here to see the Anban Bogilie. Let's put this matter aside for now... Follow me inside."

The crowd roared in response. The armored warriors stayed on the street opposite the Minister Tai, but no fewer than fifty or sixty Meng'an and Mouke followed Nianhan and Yinshu as they surged into the Minister Tai.

Entering the courtyard of the Minister Tai, they saw the so-called Great Prince, Hulubogilie Wanyan Woben; the Third Prince, Left Vice Marshal Wanyan Eriduo; the Fourth Prince, Right Vice Marshal Wanyan Wushu—these were Aguda's three surviving adult sons—then the Marshal's Left Army Supervisor Wanyan Talan, the Haobogilie Wanyan Pujianu, the former Marshal's Right Army Supervisor and current Amabogilie Wanyan Xiyin, plus the Yanjing Garrison Commander Wanyan Yinshu at his side... These were the truly top nobles currently in Yanjing.

Among them, Wanyan Xiyin and Wanyan Yinshu were both of Nianhan's faction; the three brothers on the other side needed no further comment; Talan, originally a confidant of the state ruler, was now tottering, left with only face; and Wanyan Pujianu, another cousin of Aguda and Wuqimai, had always had a good private relationship with Nianhan... In other words, if they truly wanted high-level democracy, Nianhan wasn't afraid either.

Returning to the present, seeing Nianhan bring in such a large group, the three princes, Talan, and Xiyin all changed color. Talan's face turned pale, almost matching the complexion of the severely ill Wushu. Only Wanyan Pujianu nodded from afar with a smile... The expressions on both sides formed a stark contrast.

Nianhan approached the steps. Seeing this, he sneered inwardly and, as he ascended the steps, teased Talan: "Left Army Supervisor, why is your face so pale?"

Talan, standing far off on the steps of the Minister Tai, was tongue-tied and uneasy at the words, even trembling slightly in his legs.

Seeing the other man silent, Nianhan felt contempt and quickened his pace, heading straight for Talan, ready to question him sternly.

"Grand Marshal!"

But in the nick of time, the Fourth Prince, Wanyan Wushu, who had been conversing with Xiyin, suddenly darted forward a few steps, blocking Talan. Then, looking down from above, he sternly addressed Nianhan, who had already reached him. "Today we're here to see the Anban Bogilie! He's only thirteen! You come to see such a person, bringing so many troops—what does that mean?! Are you afraid we'll harm you, or that the Anban Bogilie will harm you?!"

Nianhan stood stunned on the lower steps. Amid the wind, the many Meng'an and Mouke behind him also changed color, then grew fearful and uneasy.

"Wushu, what nonsense are you talking?" Nianhan recovered, then gave a dry laugh, before turning stern. "Is this the kind of thing you can say?"

"I could say ten thousand words, but would any of it count as action? But the Grand Marshal never speaks, yet acts swiftly!" Wushu's face was pale, but he stood firm before the Minister Tai door. "The state ruler has had a stroke in the temporary palace; Pugulu (Wuqimai's eldest son) and the others are attending to his medicine there. In all of Yanjing, this is the only place that counts as public ground, and you chose it. Yet you still bring troops to surround it, bring in officers, and then mock the Right Army Supervisor (Talan), asking why his face is pale. Why do you think he's pale? Isn't it because he's afraid you'll cut him down with one blow? Nianhan, I ask you to my face today—what exactly are you trying to achieve?!"

The surroundings were silent with awe; no one above or below dared to interject. And Nianhan, with his temper, how could he endure this? His eyes immediately widened in fury: "Wushu! Are you even worthy to question me?!"

"I am the Ancestor's own flesh and blood—how am I not worthy?!" Wanyan Wushu continued to face him sternly. "I ask you, do you truly intend to bring troops in today?"

"Is that not allowed?!" Nianhan, exasperated, flicked his horsewhip in a loop right before Wushu's nose. "I am the Grand Marshal and the Guolun Bogilie!"

"Nianhan, if that's how you speak, I have only one thing to say to you... Do you think the Great Jin has only you with troops?!" Wushu showed no fear, even raising his hand to counter as he faced the whip's motion.

Nianhan was momentarily speechless. The people around—the nobles on the steps, Yinshu at Nianhan's side, the Meng'an and Mouke who had followed, and the Yanjing Garrison soldiers on duty at the Minister Tai—were all stunned, watching the two.

At this moment, Wushu seized the momentum. He raised his hand over Nianhan's shoulder, first pointing slightly at Yinshu beside Nianhan, making Yinshu's figure waver as if struck from afar. Then he raised his hand again, past Yinshu, pointing at the many fearful Meng'an and Mouke below:

"Today, I not only question Nianhan, but also you... Since the state ruler's stroke left him unable to manage affairs, rumors have spread all over Yanjing that a collateral branch wants to kill all the Ancestor's descendants to seize power. Is this to be done today? Is it to be done by you people?! If so, since you outnumber me, come kill me, Wushu, first! If not, then all of you get out! I want you to know that if swords are drawn in the Minister Tai today, it will be a fight to the death!"

The many Meng'an and Mouke fell to their knees in a clatter, and many directly withdrew. But some looked at Nianhan with fear, clearly waiting for his word... And regardless of who it was, no one was willing to face such an accusation or be dragged into such a serious matter for no reason.

Nianhan turned back in shock, his face stern, but inwardly he regretted it just as much... His original intention was to be thorough, not to strike hard. He hadn't expected the other side to be so jumpy that even a simple show of force would lead to such an ugly scene.

The situation was deadlocked for a moment. After a while, Yinshu at his side cautiously spoke: "Grand Marshal... Fourth Prince... At this point, how about saving some face for each other? If this continues, what will become of the Great Jin in the future? The Fourth Prince saw the Battle of Yaoshan with his own eyes, and those of us who didn't, who doesn't know the skill of Woliyan (Loushi)? No matter the twists and turns, no matter how close the call, no matter how poor Woliyan's health, he still led tens of thousands of elite Jin troops and was defeated face to face! The Song people are no longer what they were!"

Hearing this, Nianhan sighed inwardly, but his face still refused to yield.

Instead, Wushu sighed to the heavens, actively stepped back, cleared the way, and then bowed sideways to Nianhan: "Grand Marshal... I was also somewhat rude today. But the Anban Bogilie is too young, and with the state ruler unable to make decisions, he can't help but be flustered. How about this? You send your troops away, and we'll send our attendants away too. Even the attendants and soldiers inside and outside the Minister Tai main hall will go far away. Just the few of us will go in to discuss matters."

Nianhan already wanted to let this matter go, but his temperament was fierce, and he couldn't save face. He just remained silent with a dark expression.

At this point, Wanyan Xiyin and Wanyan Pujianu came down together to mediate. Even Talan, standing far off, cautiously added half a sentence... But his face was still frighteningly pale.

"How about this?" Wanyan Pujianu finally said something that gave Nianhan a way out. "Fourth Prince... Don't be too particular. The Grand Marshal is, after all, the Grand Marshal, with a status unlike ours. Let him keep a dozen or so hereditary Meng'an and Mouke that everyone trusts, as an honor guard below these steps."

Nianhan said nothing, just looked at Wushu. The latter frowned, and under the gaze of his two brothers, Talan, and the others, waited a moment before slowly nodding: "Only Mouke, no Meng'an, and all the miscellaneous attendants inside the Minister Tai must leave... The rest, whether officers or armored cavalry, all go home. Don't make a scene here, lest rumors spread."

Nianhan frowned, but finally nodded under the persuasion of the others.

And so, a major conflict was ultimately resolved. Moments later, Nianhan and these highest-ranking Jin officials, who had been waiting for him for so long, entered the Minister Tai together, cleared out all extraneous personnel, and took their seats in the main hall.

A dozen or so hereditary Mouke, with expressions of helplessness, embarrassment, fear, relief, and tension, remained in the Minister Tai courtyard, scattered below the steps, putting on a show as an "honor guard" alongside the soldiers of Yinshu's Yanjing Garrison, who had been driven to a spot fifty or sixty paces away from the main hall.

"Hasn't the Anban Bogilie arrived yet?" Entering the empty main hall of the Minister Tai, after everyone was seated and he had looked around, Nianhan continued to put on airs.

"He's here. Uncle Wuye is with him, waiting in the side hall..." Wushu replied calmly, as if it hadn't been him who had just confronted the other so seriously outside.

In stark contrast, the others—Talan, the Great Prince, the Third Prince, and even Yinshu—were all somewhat tense and flustered, clearly not yet recovered from the earlier confrontation.

This obvious contrast made Nianhan sigh inwardly... Wuqimai and Loushi had each reached their limits; how many days did he himself have left? And if one day he too grew old and frail, this Fourth Prince would be the one to manage the state's affairs.

With this thought, Nianhan felt that he had perhaps gone too far in recent days.

"What do you think?" Seeing the other party silent, Jin Wushu urged slightly. "Does the Grand Marshal wish to see him now?"

"Why not see him?" Nianhan forced himself to respond energetically. "After stirring up so much trouble, isn't the point to properly meet him? Let Xiucai bring Hela here."

Xiucai was the nickname of Wanyan Wuye. Wanyan Wuye was the younger brother of Talan, but he had never liked riding horses or hunting. On the contrary, even when the Wanyan clan was still a tribal confederation—that is, when he was young—he had loved reading and learning characters, a standard Confucian scholar, hence this nickname. Of course, this man's talent for reading and strategic ability were probably far inferior to Wanyan Xiyin's; otherwise, why would he have been consistently excluded from the core circle of power?

Enough digression—shifting perspective, the Yanjing Secretariat was inherited from the Liao state, essentially an independent palace complex: a main hall in the center, a side hall on each side, and a rear hall behind, with the side halls divided into many rooms... But whether the side halls or the rear hall, they were all a certain distance from the central "Provincial Hall," making it appear extremely spacious.

Now that the promise had been made, Jin Wushu personally rose and went to the door, instructing the several Company Commanders waiting below: "The Grand Marshal orders you to go to the left side hall and invite the Heir Apparent."

The several Company Commanders dared not delay and quickly went to fetch him.

In a short while, "Xiucai" Wanyan Wuye led a young lad of only twelve or thirteen in ornate clothes, escorted by seven or eight unarmored attendants, approaching from the distant side hall.

Watching this procession, the Jin officers on the open ground before the main hall of the Secretariat, though saying nothing extra, were all somewhat dumbfounded... Simply put, if they hadn't already known who the "old Xiucai" in front was and known in their hearts who the "little Xiucai" behind was, these men would have thought they were looking at a pair of Han Chinese Confucian grandfather and grandson!

The group entered the door. The Jin nobles in the hall, from Nianhan on down, though this was not their first time seeing these two, were also dumbfounded at this sight.

Who could have imagined that, a mere sixteen years after founding the state, the future ruler of this Great Jin would have become like this?

"The junior Heir Apparent, Wanyan Dan, respectfully inquires after the well-being of all Imperial Uncles and Imperial Elder Uncles." Upon reaching the main hall, Wuye stepped aside, the eight unarmored attendants slipped behind the door, and the twelve-year-old Wanyan Hela immediately knelt in respectful obeisance at the very center of the hall, his etiquette flawless.

Nianhan and Jin Wushu, the two in charge, were momentarily flustered, then both looked towards Wanyan Xiyin.

Wanyan Xiyin quickly cleared his throat, but then smiled in response: "Although our dynasty has some special rules, the Heir Apparent is ultimately equivalent to the Crown Prince, and today we are all family—there is no need for such excessive courtesy. Please rise quickly!"

"Correct," Nianhan also forced himself to respond. "Hela, today we are all family. No need for so much formality."

Wanyan Hela, that is, Wanyan Dan, then rose and sat cross-legged on the floor in the very center of the hall, not even using a cushion.

Seeing this, Nianhan suppressed all sorts of discomfort and continued to force himself to ask: "Hela... let me ask you... do you usually ride horses and shoot arrows?"

"Reporting to Imperial Uncle," Wanyan Dan answered earnestly. "I ride horses, and I also shoot arrows."

Nianhan was momentarily at a loss for words.

"Do you read many books?" Wanyan Xiyin, growing more fond of him by the moment, couldn't help but interject out of turn. "What books do you read? Who is your teacher?"

"I do read books as well," Wanyan Dan continued to answer calmly. "I have read some of the main Han Chinese classics and histories. I have many teachers, but the main ones are Imperial Uncle and Mr. Gongmei."

"Who is Mr. Gongmei?" Nianhan truly couldn't hold back.

"Han Fang... the Liao dynasty Zhuangyuan," Wanyan Xiyin answered on the spot. "The Grand Marshal surely knows of the Yanjing Han clan."

Nianhan nodded at this, then turned his head back to the youth in the center and asked seriously again: "Hela, do you prefer reading books or shooting arrows?"

Wanyan Dan's face flushed slightly, then he responded earnestly: "May Imperial Uncle know, I most enjoy practicing archery and composing poetry with my several masters."

Wanyan Xiyin immediately clapped his hands and laughed, apparently extremely satisfied with this answer. Nianhan was stunned for a moment, then looked at Wanyan Xiyin again: "What does 'shoot lionesses' mean?"

"It means shooting arrows and composing poetry at the same time," Wanyan Xiyin explained helplessly.

Nianhan clicked his tongue on the spot. Most of the other nobles present looked solemn, though it was unclear what they were wary of or waiting for.

"Um... Hela... A-Dan," Jin Wushu finally couldn't help but speak up. "Do you still recognize me?"

"You are Fourth Uncle!" Wanyan Dan immediately responded. "Master Han was brought here by Fourth Uncle."

Jin Wushu nodded, then responded seriously: "It's like this, A-Dan. Since you have read many books, you should understand two things. One is that as the Heir Apparent, you will become the ruler in the future, that is, the Emperor of Great Jin. The other is that you should also know that our Great Jin was founded hastily, its systems are very crude, decrees vary from place to place, and the rules of the Jurchens, Khitans, and Han Chinese all operate in parallel... So I ask you, when you become the Emperor of Great Jin, what system do you intend to use? Will you still muddle along with a mix?"

Wanyan Dan blinked at this, then glanced at Nianhan and the others, remaining silent for a moment.

"Don't be afraid," Jin Wushu said, waving his hand. "As long as your uncle is here, no one can touch your position as Heir Apparent. Speak your mind!"

Nianhan frowned momentarily but said nothing.

Only then did Wanyan Dan cautiously respond to Jin Wushu: "Nephew feels that our Great Jin has its own national conditions. Trying to use only one system would be too difficult."

"That's true... Then let me ask you again, which of the three systems do you think is best?"

Wanyan Dan hesitated, then finally answered earnestly: "Nephew thinks the Han Chinese system is the best."

"Why?" Jin Wushu asked curiously.

"Because the Han Chinese system is the most complete, and it centralizes power in the middle, which allows great affairs to be managed from the center," Wanyan Dan answered cautiously. "But Master Han said not to say this for now..."

Jin Wushu, along with those around him, let out a scoffing laugh, unconcerned: "Then why did you say it anyway?"

"Because both Master Han and Imperial Uncle said that Fourth Uncle is the most trustworthy person here today," Wanyan Dan said, even more cautiously. "Before coming, Master Han specifically said that today, whatever Fourth Uncle says to do, I should do."

The hall, which had been gradually livening up, suddenly fell silent. Nianhan couldn't help but glare fiercely at the somewhat flustered "old Xiucai," Wanyan Wuye.

Jin Wushu gave another dry laugh, then quickly asked again: "Then let me ask A-Dan another thing... Before, we moved the Han Chinese and Khitans from Yanyun and Hedong to Huining Prefecture. On the road, countless numbers fled, which instead strengthened the Mongols. Then the Emperor and the Grand Marshal also felt this was a mistake, and it was halted last year... Do you know about this?"

"I know."

"Good that you know." Jin Wushu suddenly turned serious. "Now there is another major mistake. Before, we enfeoffed the Meng'an and Mouke commanders to the localities. As a result, they treated the Han Chinese commoners like slaves, causing constant rebellions. These Meng'an and Mouke, living mixed among the Han Chinese in the localities, didn't learn the Han Chinese's good points but instead learned their bad points, becoming increasingly arrogant and indulging in pleasure every day, their combat effectiveness declining, to the point of suffering a major defeat in Guanxi... A-Dan, when you become Emperor, how do you think this matter should be handled?"

"Jin Wushu!" Nianhan suddenly spoke sternly. "How could he understand such a thing?! And so many Meng'an and Mouke have already been scattered out—how can they be easily gathered back?"

"Isn't this just an examination?" Jin Wushu showed no fear. "It's not like he's ascending the throne today, reforming the system and abolishing the Boglie and Grand Marshal's offices the day after, and negotiating peace the day after that... He's just a child. What exactly are you afraid of?"

Nianhan threw up his hands in helplessness on the spot.

"Just this one question," Jin Wushu said, carefully comforting the somewhat fearful Wanyan Dan. "After you answer, you can go home for the day!"

Wanyan Dan nodded at this, then thought carefully and answered earnestly: "We should unify the laws and regulations. According to rank, distribute land, property, and clothing to these Meng'an and Mouke, so they will stop harassing the Han Chinese commoners in the localities."

Wanyan Xiyin and Wanyan Jin Wushu both nodded, and even Nianhan seemed lost in thought.

"Where will the things distributed to these Meng'an and Mouke come from?" Xiyin couldn't help but press for half a question.

"Precisely, those Han Chinese commoners should pay taxes to the state, rather than being slaves to these Meng'an and Mouke. The state collects the taxes, then distributes them to those Meng'an and Mouke," Wanyan Dan answered calmly.

Xiyin nodded repeatedly, unable to keep up.

"Go back!" Jin Wushu also nodded, but as he spoke, he personally rose to see him off, as agreed.

Wanyan Dan then performed the proper bows in turn within the hall before carefully withdrawing with Wanyan Wuye. After a short while, Jin Wushu, who had escorted them all the way to the foot of the main hall steps, returned to the Provincial Hall.

Seeing Jin Wushu return, Nianhan immediately spoke: "This is no Jurchen seed at all—he's a Han Chinese child! I'm afraid he looks at us and only sees crude barbarians."

"The Grand Marshal exaggerates..." Wanyan Xiyin quickly defended Wanyan Dan.

"Wait a moment." Jin Wushu, who had been about to sit down, turned back and went to the front of the hall, then sternly shouted at the Company Commanders and duty soldiers who were murmuring several dozen paces away. "No discussing! And no spying or eavesdropping on what's said here! All of you, get far away!"

Knowing that the nobles were about to discuss the Heir Apparent, those Company Commanders quickly moved far away. Even the few remaining duty soldiers of the Secretariat walked another dozen or so paces outward, stopping at a position seventy or eighty paces from the Provincial Hall's door.

Nianhan, who had been through a morning of turmoil, was utterly contemptuous of this, only stating his conclusion from behind: "Jin Wushu, this boy Hela is not bad. In a few years, when the realm is stable, he could be a capable ruler who maintains the status quo. But to have him ascend the throne now would inevitably stir up trouble... He truly is a Han Chinese boy!"

Wushu turned around and gestured with his lips toward the eight attendants who had entered with Wanyan Dan but had not left with him. Half of them, four men, also went out, and as they did, they pulled shut the main doors of the hall, which had only been opened four panels' width from start to finish.

The room did not suddenly darken, because many skylights around the perimeter had been opened early on. Even Nianhan at this moment still hadn't reacted, just kept talking nonstop: "Moreover, matters like deposing and establishing—how can we, as subjects, do such things lightly? In the end, it will only stir up trouble."

"But if you say that, then the Grand Marshal imprisoning the sovereign and Pulu Hu and the others—won't that stir up trouble?!" Wushu took an object from one of the attendants, turned his back, and spoke with sarcasm.

Seeing Wushu approaching with his hands behind his back, Nianhan immediately frowned and made as if to rise—an instinctive defensive move. But his thoughts had already been led by Wushu to focus on Wanyan Dan, and he never caught on... Besides, he truly hadn't considered this possibility... This action was merely a psychological defensive posture.

But soon, an unexpected event occurred. When Wushu was three or four paces from Nianhan, Wanyan Pujianu, who was on a cushion to the side, suddenly cried out in alarm, then rose and retreated several steps.

Though Nianhan was still in a fog, or rather found it hard to believe, it didn't stop him from realizing that Wushu was about to do something extraordinary. Years of battlefield instinct made him immediately grab the horsewhip at his side and lash it at the other man's head.

Wushu was caught off balance by the lash and stumbled, allowing Nianhan to seize the opening and dash toward the door from the side.

Chaos erupted throughout the hall. Wanyan Xiyin, for one, had no idea what was happening, and the rest merely scrambled to their feet, but no one dared to act directly.

"Hold him down!" Wushu, covering his bleeding face, was still the first to react and shouted the order loudly.

The four guards at the door, who came from the Han clan of Yanjing, exchanged glances upon hearing this before moving to block him. But Nianhan's battlefield experience was immense; he charged straight ahead without regard, slamming into the sealed door and forcing a two-foot gap, with half his body already out!

But what he never expected was that there were also four men outside the door. Eight attendants in total—four inside, four outside—seized the opportunity to pin Nianhan down together.

With half his body outside the hall and half still inside, his limbs held fast by eight prepared warriors, Nianhan could only shout with all his might toward the courtyard outside: "Someone is plotting treason! Come save me quickly!"

In the empty courtyard before the Hall of the Secretariat, at the farthest edge, about a hundred paces away, a dozen or so Mouke commanders all froze, then without hesitation drew their swords and sabers and prepared to charge forward.

Even the soldiers on duty seventy or eighty paces away were stunned and wavering... Clearly, if those Mouke commanders followed through, these men would definitely turn and charge right behind them.

But after only a dozen or so steps, those dozen Mouke commanders heard a piercing scream. Then the Fourth Prince and Right Vice Grand Marshal, Wanyan Wushu, forcefully pushed open the hall doors. His face was streaked with blood, and in his hand he held a bloodstained golden melon hammer. He appeared behind the screaming man, the Grand Marshal Nianhan.

Seeing this sight, the dozen Mouke commanders instinctively felt a pang of fear, and their pace slowed drastically.

Then, as Wushu struck another heavy blow to Nianhan's back, and then another, directly to the back of Nianhan's head, cutting off his screams, these Mouke commanders and the wavering soldiers alike all stopped in their tracks and exchanged glances... Some thought, 'If only there were a Meng'an commander here to make a decision!' Others thought, 'With the Grand Marshal dead from that hammer blow, what point is there in saving him?!'

What is a stratagem?

This is the most direct and effective stratagem... Three hammer blows, publicly announcing through the destruction of the other's body that this man could no longer fulfill political promises, and the matter was done. After all, Nianhan's eldest son, Sheyema, was in no way qualified to compare with those in the Provincial Hall who had founding credentials and military power.

Capture the chieftain to capture the band; three hammers finished the Grand Marshal.

"What are you waiting for?!" Wushu, kneeling on Nianhan's back, smashed his hammer into the back of the other's head, blood splattering his face. Having stunned all the warriors from various sides below, he turned back with a savage roar. "Things have come to this! The hammer has been swung! Do you still want to bet on him? Talan! Yinshuke! Eliduo! Woben! Xiyin! Pujianu! Have you forgotten how the sovereign's edict was written?! He's dead! Can the affairs of the state fall into anyone else's hands?!"

With every name Wushu shouted, the commotion among the soldiers outside the hall weakened by a degree or two. By the time he mentioned the sovereign's edict, they were almost all standing dumbfounded, to the point that his last words were practically pearls cast before swine.

Meanwhile, Nianhan, having taken two hammer blows to the back and the back of the head, was not yet dead. He struggled to extend a bloody hand. One Mouke commander below, who had once received a favor from Nianhan on the battlefield, felt a surge of hot blood, could no longer restrain himself, and made as if to step forward again.

But just then, the Left Army Supervisor of the Marshal's Office, Talan, appeared. He took the hammer from Wushu's hand and, right on the threshold, smashed it viciously onto Nianhan's outstretched hand, nearly crushing half of Nianhan's arm into the ground... The latter, in pain, spat blood.

At the same time, Wushu, having handed over the hammer, stepped out of the door and stood beside Nianhan, his blood-streaked, pale face fixed on the soldiers on duty and the hereditary Mouke commanders below the steps.

Seeing this, the one hereditary Mouke commander who had taken a few steps forward in the distance trembled like a sieve and could no longer advance... He was almost certain that one more step forward, and the Fourth Prince would call out his name and his family's origin.

After Talan, the eldest prince, the Hulubojilie Wanyan Woben, also stepped forward. He pushed Talan, shoving him out the door, then took the hammer and struck Nianhan's waist with another forceful blow.

After that blow, the eldest prince dropped the hammer and went out to stand shoulder to shoulder with Wushu. Immediately after, the third prince, the Left Vice Grand Marshal Wanyan Eliduo, also emerged from the Provincial Hall. He picked up the golden melon hammer, now a bloody gourd, and smashed it once more onto Nianhan's back.

But after Eliduo finished his blow, he dropped the hammer and stood shoulder to shoulder with Talan. Inside and outside the Provincial Hall, silence fell again, until Wushu, without turning his head from outside the hall, roared harshly: "Yinshuke, what are you waiting for?"

Yinshuke walked over slowly and picked up the hammer. Unexpectedly, Nianhan, whose back and belly were already a bloody mess, had not yet breathed his last. Instead, he strained to turn his head and glanced sideways at Yinshuke, his mouth full of blood seeming to mumble something.

Though it was a side view, though the other's mouth was already choked with blood, though he could not make a sound, somehow Yinshuke still read the words from his lips: 'Yinshuke, it's actually you?'

And so, after a moment, with only a long sigh, Wanyan Yinshuke hesitated no longer. He swung the hammer down with all his might, striking the other square in the face, smashing Nianhan's features beyond recognition.

"Third Brother, you are a long-serving marshal. Yinshuke, you are the garrison commander of Yanjing. The two of you, go out quickly now. Don't worry about anything else. Go directly to the military camps and take over the troops. Then seize Sheyema (Nianhan's eldest son) and the others. Then this matter will have no further reversals." Once Yinshuke's hammer fell, the soldiers outside the hall were all silent. But Wanyan Wushu continued to issue orders. "Xiyin!"

Wanyan Xiyin stood in the hall behind, staring at Nianhan's unrecognizable corpse as if his soul had fled. Hearing this, he looked up in shock, his expression full of grief and anger: "Things have come to this, what more do you want?"

"Things have come to this, you and Pujianu must catch up with the Anban Bojilie, properly comfort and watch over him." Wushu issued an order that Xiyin could not refuse, then turned to look at his elder brother and Talan. "Elder Brother, Talan, the two of you cut off Nianhan's head. We'll go together to see the sovereign..."

This arrangement was extremely proper. No one objected. They immediately dispersed, each to their own tasks.

As for the other two routes, we will not mention them. Let us only speak of Wushu and the other two. After waiting in the Secretariat for about half an hour, their own armored cavalry finally arrived. First, they stripped the dozen or so Mouke commanders who dared not speak in the Secretariat of their armor and threw them into a side hall to be secured. Then, fully armed, they went together to the sovereign's traveling palace. They easily took control of it. But unexpectedly, Wushu did not directly order those men to release their control over Pulu Hu and the others. Instead, he directly led the other two, who were gradually regaining their composure, into the bedchamber of the sovereign, Wuqimai, and came right up to the sickbed.

Wuqimai had long since heard the news, but half his body could not move. He could only open his mouth, letting saliva flow out continuously... And after a moment, when the men and women in the palace saw the group carrying a bloody head and leading armored soldiers surging into the palace, they all fled in terror to hide. Only the Empress, Tangkuo, led a few palace maids to guard in front of Wuqimai.

Unexpectedly, upon entering the palace, Wushu immediately knelt and prostrated himself, addressing her as 'Aunt.' Then he rose and said solemnly: "Trouble Aunt to bring a sand tray. Wushu has a matter on which I must request the sovereign's decree."

At first, they had tried to let Wuqimai draw in the sand tray. But unfortunately, the Jurchen script had been invented by Wanyan Xiyin only a few years before, and Wuqimai did not know it. As for Chinese characters, Wuqimai recognized very few as well. So they had ultimately given up.

In fact, if it were not for this, Wuqimai would not have lost his political capacity so quickly.

Therefore, the matter of bringing a sand tray was indeed strange... But then again, strange as it was, given the current situation, who dared to defy it?

And so, after a short wait, two Han Chinese consorts, seized from Bianliang, finally carried out a small sand tray and a small wooden table, trembling, and placed them before Wuqimai's couch. Then Tangkuo personally supported her husband's one movable hand and placed it on the sand tray.

"Sovereign!"

Wushu alone stepped forward and knelt before the sand tray, his expression stern. "Nianhan imprisoned you and Pulu Hu, and that was not enough. He also wanted to kill the Anban Bojilie, Hela, and us three brothers, as well as Talan, Pujianu, and others, in order to usurp the throne... But he was exposed by Yinshuke and Xiyin, and we captured and killed him together in the Secretariat. Here is his head... I beg the sovereign to pardon us for our hasty offense! If you are willing to pardon us, please draw a checkmark in the sand tray. If you are unwilling to pardon us, we will go and accept our punishment ourselves, but I ask you to draw an X!"

Wuqimai strained to glance sideways at Wushu, whose helmet was the only thing visible before the sand tray. No one knew what he was thinking. But in any case, his hand soon drew a somewhat crooked checkmark in the sand tray.

"Many thanks for the sovereign's magnanimity." Wushu sighed, then raised his head and continued solemnly: "There is one more matter... Now that Nianhan has been executed, people's hearts are inevitably unsettled. And the sovereign's body is already in this state, truly unable to handle state affairs..."

The eye with which Wuqimai stared at Wushu's head was utterly calm, without a ripple.

But soon, with Wushu's next words, the only eye this Great Jin sovereign could control still involuntarily narrowed slightly.

"I, my eldest brother, my third brother, Talan, Pujianu, Yinshuke, and Xiyin are all of one mind. That is, the Anban Bojilie is intelligent and benevolent. It would be fitting to let the Anban Bojilie succeed as sovereign, then move the capital to Yanjing to soothe people's hearts. The sovereign will be elevated to Retired Emperor, and can return to Liaoyang to recuperate in peace. Only Pulu Hu and the others will remain with us brothers to assist the new sovereign." Wushu continued speaking calmly. Behind him, Talan and Woben exchanged a glance, both somewhat caught off guard, but neither showed any intention of opposing. "Again, Uncle, just draw a checkmark or an X! Draw a checkmark, and I will go and do it together with them. Draw an X, and we can discuss it further!"

This time, perhaps because he was tired, Wuqimai drew slowly and tremblingly. He even tried once to stick out his tongue to make a sound instead of drawing in the sand tray. But finally, with the help of the Empress Tangkuo, who was sobbing beside him with her face covered, this second emperor of the Great Jin completed a neat checkmark in the sand tray.

The kind that could score ninety points!

PS: Thanks to 116 Meng, Burning Dawn classmate.