Chapter 26

"Is the news... is the news reliable?!"

Wang Shirong composed himself before offering an apology to Lin Feng and the two senior officials. "Reporting to my lord, the news is without a doubt correct!" Seeing a flicker of doubt in Lin Feng's eyes, he added, "My Ministry of Ordnance and Provisions has agents stationed in the Southern Zhou, and one of Wu Sangui's imperial physicians is actually taking silver from our Great Han!"

Lin Feng nodded, but Zhou Peigong asked, "Lord Wang, as for that Wu Sangui... well, calculating by the hour, approximately when did he pass away?"

"Nine days ago, right at... about this hour," Wang Shirong calculated silently. "According to our agent's report, Wu Sangui was over seventy years old and had long been suffering from depleted vital energy and blood. The imperial physicians diagnosed the cause of death as a feverish chill and asthma, compounded by old wounds that flared up intermittently. That night, he ate half a bowl of honey porridge before taking a turn for the worse around dawn. He struggled for breath for over an hour, and the attending eunuch hurriedly dispatched word to the imperial physicians and the duty ministers. By the time the physicians arrived, however, he was only exhaling and not inhaling. When they tested with acupuncture needles, they found that phlegm had blocked his throat, and he passed away before any treatment could be administered, leaving not a single word behind."

Regarding this situation, the imperial court and public of the Southern Zhou were split into two factions, each with its own loyalties. One faction was headed by Prime Minister Xia Guoxiang, who supported Wu Shifan, the son of Wu Xiong; the other faction was led by the Senior Pillar of State and Grand General Ma Bao and Cavalry General Gao Dajie. Ever since Wu Sangui's health had begun to decline, the rift between the two factions had gradually shifted from beneath the surface into the imperial court, becoming increasingly open and explicit. By the time Wu Sangui became bedridden, it had reached an irreconcilable point where they attacked, slandered, and even dispatched assassins against one another by any means possible. Yet up to now, neither side could do anything to check the other. Xia Guoxiang's faction held the banner of "righteousness," winning the support of most civil officials and senior clan members, while Ma Bao's faction relied on the military as its backing. In terms of strength, they were roughly evenly matched.

It was precisely because such a terrifying power struggle had broken out within the Southern Zhou dynasty that the political situation in the Jiangnan region had appeared so calm over the past few years. Aside from Zheng Jing occasionally instigating minor skirmishes against Shang Zhixin and the bogus Prince Consort Jieshu, there had been almost no large-scale military operations. The primary reason was that the most powerful vassal, the internal administration of the Southern Zhou court, was in utter chaos, with nearly all powerful ministers and generals channeling their energy into infighting. Under such circumstances, the lesser vassals dared not make any rash moves, fearing they might provoke the colossus of the Southern Zhou and become the target upon whom its internal conflicts were unloaded. Like Lin Feng thousands of miles away, the power players everywhere were holding their breath, waiting for the exact moment Wu Sangui breathed his last.

The four men in the study were all deep in thought. After a long silence, Li Guangdi broke it by cupping his hands toward Lin Feng. "Reporting to my lord, I believe that since our Great Han is linked to the Southern Zhou by marriage ties, both reason and ritual dictate that the Ministry of Rites must dispatch envoys to Changsha to offer condolences."

Lin Feng nodded. That reasoning was sound; logically speaking, Wu Sangui was still his father-in-law, and this formality could not be neglected. "Very well. Then, Jinqing, whom do you think we should send?"

"Replying to my lord, the Southern Zhou is a major state of the era, so the choice of envoy should be made with utmost care." Li Guangdi lowered his head and pondered carefully. "Li Fu, the Minister of Rites, is in the prime of his life, well-read and articulate, and enjoys a fine reputation among the literati. He is fit to undertake this diplomatic mission!"

Lin Feng shook his head. "His rank is high enough, but Li Fu is not one for detours or flexibility. Things must be quite chaotic in the Southern Zhou right now; we need someone sharper."

"Then what are my lord's intentions regarding our Great Han's next steps?"

After a long moment of contemplation, Lin Feng slowly said, "We are too far away. Even if they were a juicy bone, we couldn't possibly bite into it!" He turned to look at Zhou Peigong. "We must capture Shandong and Henan! Until these two provinces are pacified, the Central Plains will never know a single day of peace!"

Li Guangdi's face lit up with joy. "Does my lord mean that our Great Han should bide our time and build up our strength while they tear each other apart?"

"We can hardly call it resting and building up strength," Lin Feng waved his hand. "We will seize this opportunity to swiftly conquer Shandong and Henan, reorganize four to five armies, and merge them with my personal Guard Army to form a Southern Expedition Corps. When the time is right, we will march south in full force and unify all of China in a single stroke!"

At this moment, Wang Shirong interjected, "My lord, Lord Zhou, we are forgetting about another massive army!"

Surprised, Lin Feng turned his gaze toward him. Wang Shirong said solemnly, "The Southern Zhou still has a formidable army of over one hundred thousand elite troops, commanded by Ma Yaizi and Wang Pingfan. They occupy the Sichuan and Gansu regions, standing in a standoff against our Great Han's pacification generals Zhang Yong and Zhao Liangdong. To my knowledge, though these two commanders are high-ranking officials of the Southern Zhou, they have maintained strict neutrality in the succession dispute due to their distance from the central government. Now that Wu Sangui has perished, I fear they may begin to stir!"

Judging from the military campaigns of the past few years, the Southern Zhou army stationed in the Northwest—whether under Ma Yaizi or Wang Pingfan—possessed considerable combat effectiveness. They had repeatedly thwarted Qing offensives and securely guarded the gateway to Yunnan and Guizhou for Wu Sangui. Although their offensive capabilities were somewhat limited due to supply constraints, if driven to desperation, they could certainly cause trouble for the Han army in the Shaanxi and Gansu regions.

Lin Feng thought for a moment. "It would be best to persuade that army to surrender. I have heard that this Ma Yaizi is not entirely blindly loyal to Wu Sangui and harbors his own ambitions; we can offer him some sweeteners." He glanced at Zhou Peigong. "Though their combat strength is impressive, they are located in a remote area and cannot shake the overall situation for the time being. As long as we keep them steady, it will suffice. What do you think?"

"Your judgment is brilliant, my lord; exactly so!" Zhou Peigong stroked his beard. "Sichuan and Gansu have been ravaged by war and are terribly impoverished. The armies of Ma and Wang have more than enough strength to secure themselves, but lack the capability to expand. I believe that if we can swiftly take Shandong and Henan and link up with Anhui, the fate of the Central Plains will be sealed. In the end, they will have no choice but to submit and will pose no further threat."

Ultimately, the conversation circled back to Shandong. Zhou Peigong smiled bitterly. "Reporting to my lord, Wang Chengye in Dezhou is currently extremely stubborn, and our forces have made little progress in the siege. Do you think we should dispatch reinforcements or send a flanking force to detour and attack Lu?"

"Jiyun, is there any news from Zhao Shenqiao's steward?" Lin Feng pinched his chin. "That Zhao Shenqiao is always lukewarm, playing games with us. Now that Wu Sangui is dead, the balance of power in the world has shifted, and I have no patience left to play games with him!"

"Reporting to my lord, news arrived from Shandong yesterday evening!" Wang Shirong pulled a document from his boot shaft, presented it to Lin Feng, and bowed deeply. "The situation remains largely unchanged. Old Zhao's steward says Zhao Shenqiao is still willing to pledge allegiance to the Great Han, but most of the officials in Shandong refuse to comply. Compelled by circumstances, he has had to put up a false front for now. However, he has promised once again that if the heavenly troops of the Great Han break through Dezhou, the other officials will either abandon their posts and flee or defect to the Great Han. When that time comes, Zhao Shenqiao will be the first to exit the city and surrender!"

"Disregard him. Time is pressing; we have no time to dance around with him," Lin Feng waved his hand, sneering. "If this drags on, he might actually think I must have those few trinkets in Shandong. Jiyun—" He pointed a finger straight at Wang Shirong. "Pass word to him immediately: tell him to surrender at once, or when the main army arrives, he need not blame me for using his head to establish authority!"

"Yes, yes!" Wang Shirong was startled and lowered his head. "I shall strictly obey my lord's command!"

"Furthermore—Peigong," Lin Feng turned and pointed at Zhou Peigong. "Immediately issue orders instructing Zhao Yingkui and Wang Chongxiao to detach four brigades each, along with the remaining artillery units of the Fifth Guard Army, and place them all under Ma Jinliang's command. Make it clear to him: regardless of casualties or consequences, he must capture Dezhou within three days..."

Zhou Peigong was taken aback. He glanced at Lin Feng and cautioned him carefully, "Reporting to my lord, to my knowledge, there are still over twenty thousand defending troops in Dezhou, alongside nearly three hundred thousand citizens within the city walls. The fortifications are sturdy and supplies are abundant. I'm afraid..."

"We don't want it. We no longer want Dezhou!" Lin Feng waved his hand impatiently and angrily. "Order Ma Jinliang that if Wang Chengye wants to fight, we will fight him to the bitter end—let those hundreds of thousands of commoners in Dezhou be buried along with him!"