Chapter 309

"If Your Majesty does not rescind this idea, I—I shall kneel here until I die!"

Even with Zhang Zhang Jie supporting him, Chen Wen still insisted on kneeling.

The idea of burying captives alive was utterly contrary to the Confucian teachings of "benevolence and righteousness" he had absorbed since childhood.

He could not bear to witness such a scene before his eyes, nor did he wish Zhang Zhang Jie to bear eternal infamy.

After all, burying hundreds of thousands of captives was no trivial matter.

Could Wu Yong's offer to take the blame possibly absolve the Emperor of responsibility?

Seeing Chen Wen's resolute expression, Zhang Zhang Jie felt a mix of exasperation and amusement.

Though with his strength, even a scholar like Chen Wen—who barely trained—

or a towering brute eight feet tall and equally wide in girth could be lifted effortlessly,

he had known Chen Wen for years and understood he was a true gentleman.

If he said he would kneel until death, he would indeed kneel until death.

Zhang Zhang Jie had no desire to see his close friend and capable aide die over this.

For gentlemen like Chen Wen, he had a proven method: deceive them with righteousness.

His expression hardened, as if angrily questioning:

"Brother Wen, do you truly believe I am a tyrant who slaughters captives at will?"

"This—this…"

Determined to kneel here until death unless Zhang Zhang Jie abandoned his plan to bury the captives,

Chen Wen was left speechless by this question.

How could he possibly answer?

What if his ill-chosen words enraged Zhang Zhang Jie and triggered an immediate order to kill the captives?

Would that not cast the Emperor into moral ruin?

On one side stood Confucian benevolence and righteousness; on the other, the duty of loyalty between ruler and minister.

Caught between them, Chen Wen was torn in agonizing conflict.

"Brother Wen, please rise first."

Knowing he had gained the upper hand, Zhang Zhang Jie smiled inwardly and helped him up.

Struggling internally, Chen Wen had lost his earlier resolve to die kneeling, and Zhang Zhang Jie lifted him easily.

Then he turned his gaze to Wu Yong, still kneeling:

"Minister Wu, do you think if you issue the order to bury the captives yourself,

and I pretend ignorance, I can avoid the world's condemnation?"

"I—I…"

Wu Yong, hearing this, was left speechless.

Who in the entire Great Qian court did not know the army was firmly held in the hands of the Emperor above him?

Since Liang Shan, anyone who dared reach for the army had their hand severed by this Emperor of Great Qian.

In Great Qian, matters concerning the army were always decided solely by Zhang Zhang Jie.

We civil officials could only advise—we held no authority to decide.

Without Zhang Zhang Jie's command, we could not even mobilize a single low-ranking soldier, let alone move an army to bury tens of thousands of captives!

If you issued such an order, which soldier, officer, or official would not know whose command it truly was?

That would be casting Zhang Zhang Jie into moral ruin as well!

"I—I am guilty. I beg Your Majesty's punishment."

Realizing he had merely covered his ears while stealing a bell, deceiving himself, Wu Yong closed his eyes in anguish and prostrated himself before Zhang Zhang Jie to beg for censure.

"Enough, enough. Minister Wu, you are loyal.

All are loyal ministers. There are no traitors."

Zhang Zhang Jie gently helped Wu Yong to his feet.

Though Wu Yong had acted rashly and seemed to cast the Emperor into moral peril, his intentions were unquestionably pure.

A loyal minister willing to sacrifice his life and his reputation for centuries to bear the blame—

such a man must not be punished; he must be richly rewarded.

Otherwise, who would ever serve him faithfully again?

Besides, Wu Yong's treacherous scheme has not yet been enacted—everything can still be undone.

The sages judge actions, not intentions; if we judged intentions, no one would be flawless.

In the dead of night, who among us has not harbored thoughts forbidden by the world,

by society, even by the gravest treason?

"Your Majesty, if you intend to spare them, then what of the grain?"

With the tension eased, Wu Yong returned to the original problem.

Even Chen Wen's expression grew grim: without resolving this root issue,

no matter how eloquently one spoke, no matter how dazzling the rhetoric, it would be useless.

Without food, people die!

Even if one could speak with such eloquence that lotuses bloomed from the tongue and flowers rained from heaven while gold lotuses sprang from the earth, it would be of no use.

Zhang Zhang Jie smiled faintly—he had already devised a plan:

"If Emperor Emperor Tianzuo intends to live off our Great Qian lands,

then our Great Qian may just as well live off Great Liao's lands.

If they can come, so can we!

Issue orders: all tribes must surrender their allotted cattle, sheep, and horses.

All cities of Great Liao must pay a protection tax!"

It was not that Zhang Zhang Jie did not wish to annex Great Liao into Great Qian—he simply lacked the strength.

Great Qian had been founded barely a month ago; the north of Great Song had only just stabilized.

Even the wealthy southern regions had not yet been absorbed, let alone the harsh northern steppes.

Though Zhang Zhang Jie smiled, Wu Yong and Chen Wen felt boundless coldness and bloodshed in it.

With this order, countless lives across the steppes and within Great Liao's borders

would be stripped of their wealth, their homes shattered, their families torn apart.

But war is always cruel: either you die, or I do.

If Emperor Emperor Tianzuo truly invaded the heart of Great Qian,

what they would do would be ten or a hundred times more brutal!

Three days of unrestrained slaughter was standard for steppe nomads.

Historically, Liao had records of mass city massacres!

When Emperor Taizong of Liao, Yelu De, returned north from Central Plains,

due to the treacherous conduct of the prefect of Xiangzhou, Liang Hui,

he stormed the city and carried out a brutal massacre in retaliation.

Records state: all men were slaughtered, women abducted,

infants tossed into the air and pierced on sword tips for sport.

The death toll afterward reached hundreds of thousands!

Now, for the future of Great Qian, the Liao people must die.

Better that the other monk dies than the one who chants.

"We humbly obey Your Majesty's decree!"

Understanding the gravity of the matter, Chen Wen and Wu Yong both bowed deeply.

"Your Majesty, what shall be done with these captives afterward?"

After receiving the order, Wu Yong asked about the captives' fate.

They could not be released—returning them would strengthen the steppes and undermine Great Qian's rule.

But they could not be killed either: first, killing captives was ill-omened and would stain their legacy;

second, these hundreds of thousands came from nearly every corner of Great Liao—

killing them all would create blood-deep enmity.

Even in his own mind, he only intended to kill a portion,

leaving the rest as food—yet a significant number of captives still needed to be accommodated.

"Your Majesty's imperial tomb has yet to be constructed. In my humble opinion,

why not use them as laborers, exiling them to build the imperial tomb?"

Chen Wen considered and offered this suggestion.

Wu Yong immediately brightened and agreed:

"Brother Wen's suggestion is excellent. This way, we avoid conscripting civilians,

yet ensure Your Majesty's imperial tomb is built smoothly—a perfect solution."

And it ensures the emperor's auspicious burial ground can be constructed without hindrance—truly a win-win solution.

"A auspicious burial site?"

Upon hearing this term, Zhang Zhang Jie's lips twitched slightly.

The name "Ji Rang" sounds pleasant, but it actually refers to the emperor's tomb—the grave!

What Wang Lun and the others were discussing as "cultivating Ji Rang" was in fact building his grave!