Chapter 355: Internal Troubles, External Threats

Jiang Mingyu frowned at the map; Xixia had just been pacified, with factions deeply entrenched—there was no guarantee that remnants of Tuoba Jiqian hadn’t lain low among them. Moreover, he had killed too many in Xixia, and public sentiment was unpredictable. Should the Xixia garrison be redeployed and unrest erupt in the rear, the southern campaign would be ruined.

Yet the southern frontier war loomed imminent, and scattered forces could not secure victory. At this moment, Tukesiluo entered, saw Jiang Mingyu lost in thought, and stepped forward to ask: “Big brother, what military secret are you pondering?”

Jiang Mingyu snapped back to attention, gesturing for Tukesiluo to come and sit, then said gravely: “I’m troubled by troop allocation. Xixia has just been pacified—hidden dangers lurk everywhere; the southern frontier demands immediate conquest, yet our army cannot fight on two fronts. I fear either Xixia will rebel, or the south will catch us unprepared.”

Tukesiluo nodded understandingly: “Big brother, you overstate it. Xixia’s foundations are still unstable, so any disturbance could be fatal. But the southern frontier is a strategic stronghold—this war concerns the entire empire. I believe the south is more critical. What do you think?”

Jiang Mingyu sighed: “I think so too. But most of our troops now guard Xixia; a southern campaign would drastically reduce our garrison. Should Xixia turn...”

Tukesiluo waved him off: “Why overthink it, Big Brother? Xixia has no strength left to resist. I’ve maintained firm control there—any further unrest can be dealt with. Right now, the priority is seizing the southern frontier and securing the Jiang Empire’s realm!”

Jiang Mingyu opened his mouth to speak, but Tukesiluo continued: “Let me finish. Intelligence shows the Jiangzhou garrison numbers roughly 80,000—even if Wei Yangyao mobilizes reinforcements, it won’t exceed 100,000. In contrast, even if we station 50,000 troops to guard Jiancheng, we still have 120,000 for the southern campaign. We hold overwhelming numbers—our chances of winning both siege and open battle are high!”

Jiang Mingyu toyed with his teacup, speaking coolly: “Numbers favor us on paper, but leaving behind fresh troops creates rear vulnerabilities, and siege warfare demands initiative. Relying solely on quantity may be a grave mistake...”

Tukesiluo hurried to explain: “Big brother, you misunderstand. I only mean: instead of obsessing over Xixia’s instability, seize the southern opportunity and strike decisively. Then we can swiftly redeploy troops to hold Xixia—wouldn’t that be prudent?”

Jiang Mingyu fell silent. Seeing his lingering doubts, Tukesiluo pressed on: “Big brother, if you hesitate again, you’ll hand the advantage to Wei Yangyao. The southern frontier’s climate is volatile—opportunities vanish in an instant. We must seize the initiative and decide this battle now. Don’t you agree?”

Jiang Mingyu pondered, knowing sheer troop counts wouldn’t work—he needed a strategy that resolved this apparent dilemma, a steady plan to win this hard-fought siege with limited forces...

Tukesiluo fell silent for a long while before speaking.

“Perhaps the only solution now is to conscript new soldiers?”

Conscription?

Jiang Mingyu didn’t hesitate—he shook his head outright.

“No. When Fei Hou governed, his relentless conscription sparked rebellions across the land.”

“After his Zheteng , even conscripting one in two able-bodied men, the Jiang Empire’s manpower is nearly exhausted.”

“Since my ascension, we’ve been fighting on all fronts—our funds and grain have been drawn entirely from the people.”

He sighed, then added:

“Though Zhuge Yu doesn’t say it, I know the people are already murmuring in resentment.”

“If we conscript again, our fate may be no better than Fei Hou’s.”

Tukesiluo, too, came from hardship—he understood that oppressive rule was fiercer than tigers—and frowned.

“We can’t conscript new troops, yet we must fight the southern frontier—what do we do?”

Just as the two stared at each other, utterly stumped, a guard outside the mansion suddenly reported:

“Your Majesty, the official sent by the Chancellor to take over Jiancheng has arrived—he’s waiting outside the mansion.”

So soon?

Jiang Mingyu had expected the man to take days—he hadn’t anticipated his arrival so quickly.

He forced a faint smile.

“Let him in.”

Soon, the middle-aged scholar named Shi Zhuo stood before Jiang Mingyu and Tukesiluo.

After bowing, seeing their grim expressions, Shi Zhuo bowed again and asked: “Your Majesty, what troubles you?”

Jiang Mingyu sighed and briefly recounted what he and Tukesiluo had just discussed.

To his surprise, instead of looking worried, Shi Zhuo merely smiled faintly.

“Your Majesty, this matter is not difficult.”

Not difficult?

Jiang Mingyu was nearly desperate—he hurriedly asked:

“Then tell me your insight.”

Tukesiluo said nothing, but leaned forward, clearly waiting for Shi Zhuo’s words.

Shi Zhuo, of course, dared not delay—he met their gazes and spoke:

“Your Majesty may not know, but before I arrived in Jiancheng, the Chancellor had just completed a nationwide inspection.”

“According to the Censorate’s report, the vast majority of the people in the former six provinces of the Jiang Empire greatly approve of Your Majesty’s benevolent rule.”

“Many even say that our governance is worlds apart from Fei Hou’s.”

Previously, to rival Fei Hou, Jiang Mingyu had issued policies of light taxes and reduced corvée.

Later, during his struggle with Li Haoyang for the three southern provinces, the scale of his benevolent rule had reached its peak.

Thus, it was only natural that the Jiang Empire’s people cherished Jiang Mingyu’s grace.

Tukesiluo, hearing this, felt he understood—he spoke up:

“Shi Zhuo, are you saying the people, grateful for Big Brother’s benevolence, will never rebel again?”

“And we can use this opportunity to transfer most of the troops from those six provinces to the southern front?”

He calculated quickly, then beamed:

“Big brother, if so, we can mobilize at least 200,000 troops—this would ease our immediate crisis!”

Before Jiang Mingyu could reply, Shi Zhuo gently shook his head.

“Your Highness, that is not what I meant.”

"Your Highness, that is not what this subordinate meant."

Tukesiluo blinked, then asked directly:

“Then what do you mean?”

Shi Zhuo smiled again.

“I mean: if Your Majesty can lighten taxes and reduce corvée in the Jiang Empire, why not do the same in the southern frontier?”

“The people’s heart is Heaven’s heart—if the southern frontier’s people feel Your Majesty’s benevolence, why station heavy garrisons?”

When Shi Zhuo proposed his idea, Jiang Mingyu and Tukesiluo both froze. After a long pause, Tukesiluo spoke:

“Shi Zhuo, your idea is brilliant! We forgot the most basic truth—why rely on armies to win hearts?”

Jiang Mingyu nodded vigorously: “Yes! When I implemented benevolent rule in the Jiang Empire, the people supported me. Why not here?”

“Ha! Your Majesty is wise!” Tukesiluo laughed. “With the people’s support, our southern campaign will be like a tiger gaining wings—recruits and grain will no longer be a problem!”

But Jiang Mingyu frowned: “Yet when I first took the southern frontier, I requisitioned much grain, tax, and troops to meet military needs. The people likely already resent me.”

Tukesiluo’s expression darkened: “Alas, Your Majesty speaks truth. We were indeed too harsh in handling the southern frontier. Winning back their hearts won’t be easy.”

The two fell into brief silence.

Then Shi Zhuo smiled and spoke: “Your Majesty, I believe winning hearts is not difficult. The people care most about livelihood. Now that warfare has subsided, this is the time to bestow grace. If Your Majesty grants a general amnesty, reduces taxes, and appoints former southern generals, you will surely stabilize both public and military morale.”

Jiang Mingyu suddenly understood: “So that’s it! I clearly lack political experience. Thank you, Shi Zhuo, for guiding me!”

Jiang Mingyu was about to praise Zhuge Yu for sending him such a wise man, when Tukesiluo, after a long silence, spoke again, troubled:

“Big brother, Shi Zhuo’s idea is good—but there’s one flaw.”

He added, with grave seriousness:

“A major flaw.”

Flaw?

Jiang Mingyu glanced at Shi Zhuo and asked instinctively:

“What flaw?”

Tukesiluo, who had been pondering this since then, hurried to explain:

“Big brother, think: benevolent rule boils down to four words—light taxes, reduced corvée.”

“Our treasury is already strained—not just from war, but from light taxes.”

He paused, ignoring whether Jiang Mingyu was pleased or not, and continued:

“To win hearts, you repeatedly exempted people from one to three years of taxes.”

“The direct result? When tax season came, the yamen collected not a single copper coin.”

“If we repeat this in the southern frontier, not only will court expenses suffer—our army may soon lack even basic rations.”

Tukesiluo knew well how much silver tens of thousands of troops consumed daily.

Tukesiluo’s question plunged the room into silence. After a long while, Jiang Mingyu smiled faintly and said: “This isn’t difficult. We can reduce the frequency of corvée without lowering taxes.”

Tukesiluo frowned, baffled: “What do you mean—‘part one, part two’? Speak plainly, don’t beat around the bush.”

Jiang Mingyu didn’t mind his brother’s bluntness. He patiently explained: “‘Light taxes, reduced corvée’ includes both taxes and corvée. We can keep taxes unchanged but reduce unpaid labor duties—that greatly eases the people’s burden. We gain their support without sacrificing revenue—a win-win.”

Tukesiluo nodded vigorously: “Ah! I get it now! This arrangement truly solves both problems.”

Shi Zhuo listened quietly, occasionally adding: “Your Majesty is wise—this is precisely the point. The people suffer most from corvée; easing it will win their heartfelt loyalty.”

Jiang Mingyu smiled: “Exactly. When I was young, my father often said: the people are the foundation of the state. To ensure peace and prosperity, the people must live in comfort. If we implement this policy in the southern frontier, we may better secure their loyalty.”

Tukesiluo couldn’t help laughing: “Big brother, you and I grew up fighting beside Father—we know nothing of governance. If not for Shi Zhuo’s reminder, we’d still be spinning our wheels.”

Jiang Mingyu chuckled ruefully: “Yes. I’ve been so absorbed in warfare, I’ve neglected domestic affairs. Fortunately, you and Chancellor Zhuge are here to assist me—I’ve had less to worry about.”

Shi Zhuo bowed deeply: “Your Majesty overpraises me. I merely do my duty—I am far inferior to Your Majesty and Your Highness.”

Soon, a gate guard arrived before Jiang Mingyu.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness—the hour is late; it’s time for your meal.”

Jiang Mingyu’s mood was now good—he nodded slightly.

“Very well. Tukesiluo, Shi Zhuo—since we’re done, join me for a drink?”

With the matter resolved and the guard’s reminder, he suddenly realized his stomach had been growling for some time.

Tukesiluo merely nodded—he was used to dining with Jiang Mingyu.

But Shi Zhuo looked terrified, as if this were the highest honor imaginable.

Even in retirement, he could boast for years about this single meal.

Jiang Mingyu raised his cup, took a sip, and looked at Tukesiluo and Shi Zhuo: “There’s time ahead—let’s talk more. Do you think we should strike now, launch a surprise attack on the southern frontier?”

"This..." Tukeslu frowned in thought. "The southern border is heavily fortified; a surprise attack would be difficult."

"Hah! Old Tu, you’ve become increasingly cautious." Jiang Mingyu laughed loudly, clapping Tukeslu on the shoulder. "I was only joking—how could I possibly launch troops recklessly? Our dynasty faces internal strife and external threats; we must work together."

"Your Majesty is wise!" Shi Zhuo quickly chimed in.

"Enough, don’t just flatter me." Jiang Mingyu waved his hand. "By the way, I’m still worried about Liu Yifei. She’s been in the southern border for over half a year—how is she faring now?"

"Rest assured, Your Majesty," Tukeslu said gravely. "The spies I sent have already secretly reported: your wife is unharmed, but the mission is arduous, and she cannot withdraw."

"I certainly believe that. But..." Jiang Mingyu’s expression darkened; he shook his head slightly. "Perhaps I’m just worrying needlessly. Last night, I dreamed she was surrounded by southern border troops—the situation was dire. I know it was only a dream, yet I still cannot help but worry."

Tukeslu and Shi Zhuo exchanged a glance, each seeing a flicker of concern in the other’s eyes.

Half an hour later, as Tukeslu was still trying to reassure him that concern clouded judgment, a soldier suddenly strode in.

"Your Majesty, one of our scouts has returned and is waiting outside."

Scout? Jiang Mingyu froze.

"How could he return so quickly?" From distance alone, even on a fast horse, it would take two days to reach Jiangzhou from Jiancheng. How could the scout be back in barely half a day?

Something must have happened. Could his dream have come true—had Liu Yifei truly encountered danger? The thought made Jiang Mingyu’s face darken; his sharp eyebrows trembled as cold light flashed in his eyes. He spoke in a low, tense voice: "Quick—bring him in at once!"

Soon, a scout drenched in sweat, dressed as an ordinary civilian, stood before Jiang Mingyu and the other two. Jiang Mingyu studied him, recognized his face, then asked: "Why are you back so soon? Has something major occurred?" He still remembered the fake messenger incident, so he first confirmed the man’s identity before pressing for details.

The scout, unaware of the earlier deception, hurriedly bowed to Jiang Mingyu: "Your Majesty—a major crisis has occurred."

Tukeslu’s heart jolted. Seeing Jiang Mingyu’s expression change, his narrow eyes darted sharply, and he snapped: "Speak plainly—why the theatrics?" The scout instinctively flinched and hurried to report:

"Your Majesty, Prince—this is what happened..."

They had been ordered by Tukeslu to scout the situation in Jiangzhou and Liu Yifei’s forces. But after only a few hours of travel, they heard that Ke Bin, the Governor of Jiangzhou, had been thrown into panic upon learning Jiang Mingyu was about to attack Jiancheng. As commander of Jiangzhou’s troops, Ke Bin knew that if Jiancheng fell, Jiangzhou’s gates would be wide open. To defend the southern border and Jiangzhou’s security, he immediately dispatched swift messengers to other prefectures under Jiangzhou, urgently summoning reinforcements to aid Jiancheng.

The moment the scout finished speaking, Jiang Mingyu felt a great weight lift from his chest. A faint smile tugged at his lips; his furrowed brows relaxed, and his entire posture softened.

Sixty thousand southern reinforcements. Jiang Mingyu silently recited the number. Combined with Jiancheng’s original garrison of fifty thousand, the southern forces now totaled one hundred and ten thousand. Had the Da Jiang army not been so formidable and menacing, these one hundred and ten thousand troops might have sealed Jiancheng off completely.

Yet at this moment, Jiang Mingyu felt no concern for the sudden arrival of sixty thousand reinforcements. He knew clearly: even if the southern border mobilized every soldier, they would merely be walking into a trap—uselessly increasing the Da Jiang army’s victories. These sixty thousand men were like panicked lambs, stepping straight into the tiger’s jaws, doomed to slaughter.

Jiang Mingyu narrowed his eyes, his gaze slowly sweeping over the scout and Tukeslu. He saw the scout’s face slick with sweat, rivulets tracing his cheeks, soaking his temples; he saw Tukeslu’s sharp brows knotted, his eyes filled with doubt.

"This doesn’t make sense..." Tukeslu muttered under his breath. "Our army only captured Jiancheng yesterday—how could news reach the southern border so swiftly, prompting Ke Bin to mobilize troops immediately? Could it be... a traitor in our ranks?"

Jiang Mingyu snorted dismissively. He glanced at Tukeslu with cool indifference. "Why overthink it? When troops come, we meet them head-on—it suits us perfectly. How Ke Bin learned the news is irrelevant; what matters is our army’s overwhelming strength. These sixty thousand troops change nothing."

He rose and stepped before the scout, looking down upon him. "Those who remain here are of no further use. Return at once—discover the deployment positions and commanding officers of the southern troops. Report back immediately. Go, and return swiftly."

The scout bowed deeply, pledging his obedience, then strode out. Jiang Mingyu watched his retreating back, a faint, almost imperceptible smile curling at his lips. His air of certainty drew Tukeslu’s curious gaze.

Jiang Mingyu returned to the table, picked up a cup of tea, and took a sip. The fragrant liquid slid down his throat, bringing a moment of calm. That peace shattered as shouts and clashing weapons erupted outside, followed by screams and cries of agony. Jiang Mingyu startled, about to speak—when a blood-splattered soldier burst through the door.

"Your Majesty! Southern spies infiltrated the camp and attempted to assassinate the patrol commander—they’ve been captured!"

Jiang Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a flash of cold light in his eyes. He stood, smoothed his robe, and spoke calmly: "Bring me word: interrogate the spies immediately—find out their intentions and numbers." He knew the spies’ infiltration had a purpose—he must uncover the truth.

Soon, the prisoners’ piercing screams rose in waves, punctuated by the splatter of blood against the walls. Jiang Mingyu stood motionless, listening to the interrogations, his mind turning over the reason behind the sixty thousand southern troops’ sudden appearance...