Chapter 102

First Volume, Chapter 102: Refuting in the Imperial Court

Li Xu stepped forward, his emotions wildly agitated, and bowed deeply to the Liang Emperor to offer counsel.

"I humbly beg the Sage Emperor to rescind the Golden Belt! Those granted the Golden Belt in our dynasty have all been National Pillars, the very backbone of Heaven and Earth, symbolizing the supreme grace of our Great Liang. How can Qin Feng, a mere commoner, possibly deserve such an honor? If this becomes public, it will devalue the Golden Belt and tarnish the achievements of our past ministers—this must not stand!"

Li Xu knew full well that the honor of the Golden Belt was minor; the privileges it conferred were immense.

With the Golden Belt on his person, Qin Feng would henceforth be subject to review by only one institution—the Dali Temple—among all thousands of yamens across Heaven and Earth. From now on, dealing with Qin Feng, or even the Qin Family, would become impossibly difficult.

The Ministry of Revenue officials naturally echoed Li Xu's words, one after another pleading with the Emperor to rescind the ImperialCommand.

Even the Great Confucian Cheng Yin could no longer remain silent; he bowed and said:

"Qin Feng is young, holds no official rank, no noble title, and has no meritorious achievements. His reputation in Jingdu is notoriously poor—he is utterly unworthy of this supreme honor. If word spreads, how will the people of Heaven and Earth view the Emperor? Has the Emperor forgotten the bloody lesson of the previous dynasty: when its ruler was corrupt and incompetent, favoring treacherous ministers, it lost its glorious River and Mountains?"

Bold, unflinching admonition was the privilege of a Great Confucian. Throughout the entire Imperial Court, even high-ranking ministers dared not speak to the Liang Emperor in such a manner—but Cheng Yin dared.

Facing the accusations and counsel of all, the Liang Emperor merely smiled, as if he had long anticipated this outcome, and said calmly:

"Your concerns are not without merit. I bestowed the Golden Belt upon Qin Feng only after deep deliberation. The claim that Qin Feng's reputation is poor is merely gossip among Noble Youth circles. If he were equally despised among the Folk, I would not spare him!

"Qin Feng submitted the Military Strategy diagrams, laying the foundation for our expedition against the North Di Barbarians. Who among you, my ministers, can match that achievement? Moreover, our National Treasury is empty and state finances strained. In just one month, Qin Feng has replenished the treasury with hundreds of thousands of Silver. Who among you can match that?"

"As Great Confucian Cheng says, Qin Feng indeed holds no official rank or noble title—he is but a commoner. Yet his devotion to the greatness of Liang moves me deeply. I wish to promote him, but he has not passed the imperial examinations nor earned battlefield merit. After much thought, the Golden Belt is the only honor left to bestow."

The court fell utterly silent. No one had expected the Emperor to go this far. This was not an explanation for Qin Feng—it was blatant favoritism!

The officials dared not voice their anger; the Confucian Scholars could only offer verbal counsel, powerless to sway the Emperor's decision.

Qin Tianhu was also taken aback—but more than that, he felt pride. After all, his own son had earned such imperial favor; it was a glorious moment for the Qin Family.

The tide of the court shifted instantly. The Ministry of War officials, who had long remained hidden and restrained, now seized the moment and stepped forward.

It was not that they were opportunists; before the court session, Qin Tianhu had already instructed them: unless the timing was perfect, avoid debating the Confucian Scholars.

After all, officials and Confucian Scholars held opposing positions and fundamentally different priorities; they rarely gained advantage, and risked being misquoted, slandered, and ultimately losing more than they gained.

But now was the perfect moment to refute them.

"The Golden Belt is the supreme honor; past Emperors treated it as paramount. This is the first time in our dynasty that the Golden Belt has been conferred—it must be the Emperor's deeply considered decision. Are you, Ministers of Revenue, questioning the Emperor?"

"Since Qin Feng now bears the Golden Belt, he has the right to discuss state affairs. If you, Ministers of Revenue, persist in interfering, you are the ones committing the grave offense of overstepping your bounds!"

The situation instantly turned completely in Qin Feng's favor.

Facing the accusations, Cheng Yin sneered and stubbornly retorted: "Fine, let us set aside the Golden Belt for now. But launching a campaign against the North Di will consume over ten million Tael of Silver, while relocating refugees requires only one million. Tell me, gentlemen, which should you choose?"

"This..."

"Can't answer?" Cheng Yin looked down contemptuously at the Ministry of War officials, preparing to speak again—when suddenly, a voice rang out.

"Of course we can!"

At that moment, Qin Feng spoke.

His body, moments before hunched and submissive, now snapped rigidly upright, his head nearly tilting to the heavens.

What else could he do? It was time for little master to show off!

He immediately raised his hand and pointed directly at Cheng Yin.

"Master Cheng, your entire premise is wrong—profoundly, catastrophically wrong! National War cannot be measured in silver! It must be decided by unwavering resolve. If we continue to tolerate the North Di Barbarians' incursions, they will only grow bolder, shifting from targeted raids to threatening the entire Border's security!

"There are seven neighboring states bordering Liang—all arrogant and self-important. If they see Liang as weak, they will all follow suit. At that point, Liang will know no peace again!"

"Solving the North Di problem now requires ten million Tael of White Silver—yes, the Item: Military Expenditure is high. But if we continue this way, more and more border states will begin harassing us, and military spending will rise year after year until it reaches an irreversible point. At that time, even the full strength of the nation may be powerless to turn the tide!"

"So I ask you, Master Cheng: is ten million Tael of White Silver more important—or is the Great Liang Dynasty more important?!"

Seeing the man gaping, unable to reply, Qin Feng smiled—but his tone turned sharply heavier.

"Master Cheng, you memorize the Treatise on Governance by rote, yet understand only its surface, never its depth. In governing the state and the people, though you are a Great Confucian, you have zero practical experience. All your arguments are mere paper talk—hardly more valuable than the practical wisdom of a lowly County Magistrate!"

Cheng Yin, once so haughty, was instantly flushed crimson, breathing heavily, several times opening his mouth to retort—but each time, the words died in his throat.

For Qin Feng spoke the truth: Cheng Yin, though learned, had zero experience in governance. All his arguments were hollow, never tested in practice.

In contrast, Qin Feng's claims were backed by data, internally consistent, forceful, and impossible to refute.

Even the Confucian Scholars who had staunchly supported Cheng Yin fell silent, beginning to reconsider Qin Feng's words.

They were not unreasonable men.

Until now, they had only known that war drained the people and wasted wealth—but had never considered the deeper issue: neighboring states would emulate the North Di, expanding the Battle Line.

The North Di was a malignant tumor. While still small, it must be excised now. If left untreated, it will spread throughout the body—until Liang is beyond salvation, beyond Returning to Heaven.

Qin Feng's words had struck straight into the Liang Emperor's heart.

The prestige of Liang must not be damaged. Once this crack opens, it will be fantasy to ever make neighboring states submit again.

Qin Tianhu's gaze burned with fervor. As leader of the Pro-War Faction, Qin Feng's words were nothing short of divine law—filling him with fierce determination.

The Ministry of War officials looked at Qin Tianhu with deep admiration, whispering among themselves: "The Minister's son is well-raised—truly admirable."

Qin Tianhu beamed with pride.

But the fire had not yet burned out. Since it had ignited, Qin Feng would see it through—to the end—so these so-called Confucian masters would feel shame, and never again dare interfere in state affairs.

Qin Feng pressed Cheng Yin relentlessly, pressing forward with One-Strike Victory: "Master Cheng, you claim to be the leader of scholars, the foremost of Liang's Confucian Scholars, living your comfortable literary life under Liang's protection. You should lead all scholars to wield the pen as a blade, strike down the North Di, and proclaim Liang's glory. Yet you obstruct at every turn—fearful before battle, spouting empty words, meddling in state affairs. If judged lightly, you lack the scholar's pride and integrity—you are a disgrace to all scholars. If judged severely, you embolden the enemy and crush your own nation's spirit, interfering in matters of national importance, plunging Liang into internal strife and external threat—what crime do you deserve?"

Cheng Yin's face turned deathly pale; he staggered backward several steps, nearly falling.

Strangely, behind him, countless Confucian Scholars offered no support.

The Confucian Scholars blushed with shame, humiliated by Qin Feng's words, deeply ashamed of their own prior beliefs. And now, they began to question Cheng Yin himself: were they, these so-called Confucian Scholars, even qualified to interfere in state affairs? Did they possess the right—or the ability—to do so?

No one noticed the Liang Emperor quietly exhale.

After this debate, no one in Heaven and Earth would dare question the necessity of the campaign.

This Qin Feng, though often careless and unreliable in daily life, had never failed at the critical moment. The Liang Emperor found himself liking him more and more; his suspicions and defenses gradually melted into pure admiration.

Just as the Liang Emperor prepared to announce the verdict, Qin Feng's voice rang out again.

"Our resolve to strike down the North Di must never waver! But the one hundred million Tael of White Silver in military expenditure remains an insurmountable challenge. Our National Treasury is depleted, and we must also aid disaster victims—pressure is unprecedented. Raising military funds is paramount. I have a modest suggestion—please consider it, Your Majesty."

As he spoke, Qin Feng pulled a slip of paper from his sleeve and raised it above his head with both hands.

Li Zhan saw this and hurried over to take it, presenting it carefully to the Liang Emperor.

As he flipped through the paper and saw the dense, tiny script upon it, even the Liang Emperor, whose depth of cunning rivaled the vast ocean, could not help but beam with delight; he rose to his feet at once, fixing Qin Feng with an intensely burning gaze: "Qin Feng, did you devise this secret strategy for raising military expenditure?"

Everyone was utterly baffled.

What kind of secret strategy for raising funds could possibly stir a sage to such excitement?

All eyes turned toward Qin Feng in confusion, yet the very Qin Feng who had just shut down the Great Confucian Cheng Yin until his face flushed crimson and he nearly fainted on the spot, now wore a mischievous grin, reverting to his usual wastrel demeanor—he scratched the back of his head and chuckled foolishly: "I have no such talent. This secret strategy for raising military expenditure was created by my father."

At these words, the Liang Emperor's burning gaze instantly shifted to Qin Tianhu.

Qin Tianhu, however, looked utterly bewildered—what secret strategy for raising funds? He had no idea what they were talking about.