WNST - 111

Xie Queshan clearly felt his tears slide down his cheeks, pooling by his ears and seeping into the pillow. Unable to lift a hand to wipe them away, the sensation of dampness became even more pronounced. 

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to think of something else. 

Song Muchuan’s warning to Jinling would surely have some effect. 

If Wanyan Pu hadn’t uncovered anything in Jinling, did that mean he would be safe? 

He was not one to hope for the best; he always prepared for the worst. But at this moment, he couldn’t help but imagine the most favorable outcome. 

However, the traitor lurking in the shadows of Jinling—what could they possibly uncover? How far could their eyes truly see? Everything remained unknown. 

He thought he’d lie awake in anguish all night, yet amidst the quiet rhythm of his breathing, he drifted off to sleep. 

The night passed without dreams, perhaps because he was already lost in one. 

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in Jinling, the city was still alive with revelry, its nights unending. 

The banquet for Wanyan Pu was held at Feixian Pavilion, the largest establishment in Jinling. It was the fifteenth day of the lunar month, and the night market bustled with activity, teeming with people and exuding an air of prosperity. 

Before the feast began, Shen Zhizhong and several ministers had already been embroiled in heated discussions about how to handle Wanyan Pu. The tension among their own ranks was so high it nearly erupted into physical altercations. 

The situation remained tense. 

Though Wanyan Pu had been given the title of envoy, her movements were closely monitored, severely restricted under everyone’s watchful eyes. But this arrangement wouldn’t hold for long. If Wanyan Pu wanted to leave, she could easily find an excuse to overturn the entire situation and depart whenever she pleased. And if she secretly returned later, no one would know.

Moreover, there was still a traitor hidden in the shadows among their own ranks. 

The group argued until they were red in the face, each proposing ideas only to have them shot down. No one could come up with a way to keep Wanyan Pu in Jinling. 

—Could they just kill her? 

—Why not? 

Some hot-headed individuals were seriously contemplating how to make Wanyan Pu meet an untimely demise. Back and forth the arguments flew, and the scene descended into chaos. 

Meanwhile, Shen Zhizhong sat silently in his chair, saying nothing. 

“Lord Shen, what should we do now? Say something!” Finally, someone noticed the silence of the Grand Secretary and anxiously pulled him into the fray. 

Shen Zhizhong, well past fifty, looked aged as wrinkles gathered at the corners of his eyes when he lowered his gaze. But when he suddenly raised his head, his sharp, bright eyes revealed a commanding presence. 

“Negotiate,” he said, uttering just two words. 

The others exchanged glances, none understanding what he meant. 

By this time, Wanyan Pu had already arrived at the banquet hall in a luxurious carriage, passing through bustling streets. Seeing the crowded streets reminded her that there hadn’t been as many people just a few days ago—it must be market day. She couldn’t help but marvel at how industrious and resourceful the Han people were. Even as the frontlines raged, Jinling remained a city of extravagance and indulgence. 

But Jinling wasn’t a place for her to linger long. The ministers had done everything in their power to delay her, and now it was finally time to openly discuss her “diplomatic mission.” She had already made up her mind: no matter what those old fools said, she wouldn’t concede. She’d throw a tantrum, leave, and get out of Jinling as quickly as possible. 

The Yu Dynasty was already on its last legs. Aside from stirring up public outrage with petty tricks, she couldn’t think of anything else they could pull off. 

Everyone had already gathered, and Wanyan Pu arrived fashionably late, her attitude nothing short of overbearing. 

“If you want to negotiate with me, I have only one condition: the Yu Dynasty must fully surrender, acknowledge our Great Qi as their sovereign, and allow you to select one person from the collateral branches of your royal family to be established as a regional lord.” 

Wanyan Pu paused, and for a moment, the room fell silent. Some were angry, some astonished, but no one spoke. 

Seeing this, Wanyan Pu smiled, confident and smug. “If any of you have other intentions today, then I’m afraid I can’t oblige.” 

With that, she prepared to leave. 

Shen Zhizhong raised his wine cup and slowly said, “What about mutual trade?” 

Wanyan Pu froze, her movement to rise halting. She suddenly understood why Shen Zhizhong had chosen this day, this place—to showcase the prosperity of Yu’s trade. 

And this was precisely Great Qi’s weakness. 

Great Qi had risen to power through war, which drained resources. With most able-bodied men sent to the frontlines, commerce and even agriculture lagged far behind. Relying solely on plunder could no longer cover the deficits. Meanwhile, the Yu Dynasty’s economy thrived, which was why, despite being pushed back repeatedly, they could still cling to a sliver of hope. 

In the end, wealth was the foundation of a strong nation. Plundering others made you nothing more than a bandit. Even if you established a new dynasty and silenced the masses, dissenting voices would always emerge. 

The court of Great Qi basked in the false prosperity of battlefield victories, but Wanyan Pu saw clearly: conquering a land was easier than ruling it. To govern effectively, they couldn’t exterminate the Han people—they needed to rule wisely, integrating the two peoples and drawing on each other’s strengths. That was the path to long-term stability. 

If they had swiftly crossed the Yangtze River and unified the Central Plains, things would have been simpler. They could have started anew amidst the ruins. But now, three months had passed with the stalemate at Lido Prefecture. Despite appearances of neither side winning, the resistance of the Yu Dynasty grew fiercer by the day, and the balance was beginning to tilt subtly. 

If the Yu Dynasty continued to resist to the death, it would harm both sides irreparably. 

But if the Yu Dynasty agreed to open trade, acknowledge Great Qi as their sovereign, and pursue peaceful integration between the two peoples, allowing Great Qi to prosper rapidly, it would be a worthwhile deal. 

It had to be said, Shen Zhizhong was an exceptionally seasoned politician. With just a few pointed words, he laid bare the pros and cons, making Wanyan Pu willingly sit back down at the negotiating table. 

Shen Zhizhong, originally a military general, spoke with a voice as clear and resonant as a bell: “Forcing our entire Yu Dynasty to submit is absolutely impossible. But if Princess Wanyan values trade and is willing to pursue shared prosperity, this old minister does have some compromise solutions.” 

Wanyan Pu’s demands had been firmly rejected. Yet she didn’t grow angry, maintaining her composed smile, graceful and self-assured. 

“While our troops are fiercely fighting at the frontlines, I’m sitting comfortably here discussing compromises. Doesn’t that feel like a betrayal of our brave Qi warriors?” 

“Does Her Highness intend for our Yu Dynasty to deplete the last ounce of silver in our treasury and fight until our last soldier falls? If so, all you’ll gain is a body count.” 

“Lord Shen shows no sincerity. How can we negotiate?” 

“As long as Your Highness agrees to withdraw the troops stationed at Lido Prefecture, deliver Prince Ling’an to Jinling, and allow the Yu Dynasty to establish a southern capital divided by the river, our dynasty is willing to pay annual tribute, waive tariffs, and engage deeply in trade with Great Qi. Plundered wealth will eventually run out, but only when Great Qi’s own coffers overflow and its people prosper will true longevity be achieved. We Han people have a saying: it’s better to teach a man to fish than to give him a fish.” 

Wanyan Pu didn’t rush to respond. She took her time sipping her wine, her lowered gaze masking deep thought. 

“So, what price is Lord Shen willing to offer?” 

Seeing that Wanyan Pu had softened, Shen Zhizhong took a sip of wine and smiled. “This old minister is merely acting as regent for now, and today’s actions already border on overstepping. The specific terms must wait until a rightful ruler ascends the throne to make the final decision.” 

The conversation circled back, pressuring Wanyan Pu to release Prince Ling’an. 

But Wanyan Pu was clear-headed and refused to be drawn into Shen Zhizhong’s trap. Prince Ling’an was a bargaining chip. The reason negotiations were possible now was because he hadn’t yet been captured, and the situation remained unresolved. Neither side could afford the consequences of the other winning, so each had to take a step back, find a compromise, and reap some benefits. 

Seeing Wanyan Pu’s silence, Shen Zhizhong added, “How about this: Your Highness can present your conditions, and I’ll have the Ministry of Revenue calculate them. This will provide a basis for future decisions.”

Shen Zhizhong had effectively passed the ball back to Wanyan Pu. 

She wanted to know exactly how much money was left in the treasury so she could gauge how high to set her price. After all, Great Qi’s victory was still obvious, and if the Yu Dynasty could buy peace with money, why not? 

But precisely because she couldn’t determine what figure the other side had in mind, if she blurted out a number too high, negotiations would collapse; too low, and she’d lose out. The negotiation appeared to have reached a deadlock. 

Wanyan Pu waved her hand, signaling for a maid to pour her more wine. For some reason, the maid fumbled nervously, accidentally spilling wine on Wanyan Pu’s dress. Surprisingly, Wanyan Pu didn’t lose her temper this time. Instead, she took the opportunity to excuse herself to change clothes. 

When she returned, she was fully prepared. 

“Three hundred thousand in annual tribute—how does that sound?” 

Shen Zhizhong abruptly slammed his wine cup onto the table, the sound reverberating like a stone thrown into calm waters. The others quickly chimed in: some looked angry, one person slammed the table hard, and another impulsively shouted at Wanyan Pu, accusing her of making an outrageous demand. 

“It seems Princess Wanyan isn’t here to negotiate sincerely today. In that case, let us take our leave.” 

With that decisive statement, Shen Zhizhong swept his sleeves and left, taking the rest of the ministers with him. 

Wanyan Pu was stunned. Why had Shen Zhizhong stormed off? Wasn’t he supposed to be the one desperate to keep the negotiations going? 

Now she found herself stuck—unable to leave easily. She instinctively felt that this deal wasn’t a losing proposition, but she also couldn’t appear too eager, as though she were certain to accept the terms. She realized she had fallen into Shen Zhizhong’s trap and had no choice but to stay in Jinling and wait. 

Still, something about the situation struck her as odd. 

… 

The night was pitch-black, and a man clutching a bulging bundle hurriedly slipped out of the back courtyard of his house. He cautiously glanced around, ensuring no one was watching before scurrying along the wall of the alley. 

But just as he turned the corner, two towering figures suddenly blocked his path. Their faces were obscured by the darkness, but each held a large blade. 

The man was none other than Ding Xu, the Minister of Personnel, who was already feeling uneasy. Startled by the sight, he instinctively stepped back, tripped over his own feet, and landed flat on his rear. 

“Minister Ding, Her Highness Princess Wanyan requests your presence for a discussion.” 

Two guards dragged Ding Xu to a dim alleyway where an inconspicuous carriage awaited. A lantern hung outside the carriage, casting a faint glow that revealed a shadowy figure inside. 

Panicking, Ding Xu dared not offend the noblewoman within. He dropped to his knees with a thud. 

“Your Highness, you must protect me! I’ve been stealing intelligence for you, but tonight was all a setup orchestrated by Shen Zhizhong! He gave everyone different figures! I’m now in grave danger and have no choice but to flee!” 

The figure in the carriage remained silent for a long moment. 

Desperate, Ding Xu blurted out, “Your Highness, I’ve also uncovered a top-secret piece of information—the spy codenamed ‘Goose’ in the Bingzhu Bureau is none other than Xie Queshan, who betrayed the country years ago! I know many other things too. If you ensure my safety, I’ll tell you everything!” 

“Is that so?” A middle-aged man’s voice emerged from the carriage, and a hand lifted the curtain. “Minister Ding, I had no idea of your loyalty—or should I call you… Daman?” 

Ding Xu stared in shock at the man in the carriage. 

Several hidden guards silently emerged, and a sword pierced through Ding Xu’s chest. 

Xie Zhu stepped down from the carriage, his expression grim as he gazed at Ding Xu’s lifeless body. Shen Zhizhong’s elaborate scheme that night had not only ensured Wanyan Pu stayed in Jinling but also exposed a spy. Shen had instructed Xie Zhu to intercept Ding Xu and extract whatever information he possessed. 

But the words Ding Xu had spoken moments before his death… mentioned Xie Zhu’s nephew, Xie Queshan.