Chapter Fifty-Three: The Emperor Shows Mercy

Page 1 of 3

Having been emperor for many years and personally overseeing numerous campaigns during his reign, the emperor had long since developed a certain ability: by examining military reports, expenditures, troop movements, and the like, he could judge how difficult the fighting at the front truly was, and whether the commanders there were concealing the truth.

To put it plainly, this ability was nothing remarkable.

It was simply the ability to read reports.

Certain senior administrators could look at the reports submitted by their subordinates and tell whether those beneath them were deceiving their superiors, hiding the truth, or falsifying expenses. The emperor did the same.

He looked at only one figure:

How many battles had the Marquis of Wuning fought during his five or six years in the West Sea?

The emperor calculated silently. Clashes involving a few hundred men occurred, on average, once every day or two. Battles involving a thousand men took place about once a month. Engagements of five or six thousand men, or more than ten thousand, were comparatively rare.

Yet there was always one every six months or so, or at least once a year.

Every report claimed victory.

The emperor memorized the locations of each engagement and compared them with the map of the West Sea in his mind.

He immediately discovered that they were all near the prefectural capital of the West Sea and its seven county seats.

In other words, on the map, the West Sea Prefecture covered a vast area. In reality, however, it controlled only the strip along both banks of the Great Golden Sand River—the Irrawaddy River of later generations. Everywhere else was unsafe.

The emperor calculated in silence and concluded that there were two possibilities.

First, the Marquis of Wuning was deliberately preserving bandits in order to strengthen his own position, while falsifying his military achievements.

But after comparing this with the funds the imperial court had allocated to the West Sea, the emperor discovered that after every victory, the Privy Council had done its utmost to reduce the rewards. Based on his knowledge of the army’s methods of siphoning off money, and considering the frequency of the battles and the extent of the losses, he judged that the Marquis of Wuning could not have profited very much.

Perhaps the Privy Council had been guarding against the Wuning household deliberately preserving bandits to bolster its power.

The other possibility was that, as the He family claimed, the situation in the West Sea was unstable.

The Marquis of Wuning had already exhausted every ounce of his strength suppressing the unrest. He might even have emptied the entire fortune of his household for the sake of the West Sea.

Which possibility was the truth?

For the moment, even the emperor could not determine it.

Although the He family had wept and pleaded with great emotion, the emperor did not dare believe them easily. Everyone at court was a master actor—including himself.

Even so, he had already made his decision.

First, he would appease them.

If the He family had deceived him, he would settle accounts with them after the autumn harvest and exterminate the entire clan.

If the He family had not deceived him, then the emperor would have to respond to the situation in the West Sea.

The emperor did not want to manage affairs. He was even too lazy to do so. But that did not mean he wanted to see the West Sea fall.

Page 2 of 3

The Southern Sea campaigns were the greatest military achievement of his life.

They were accomplishments that could stand alongside the Han conquest of the Western Regions—victories that allowed him to rival Emperor Wu of Han himself. How could he permit the West Sea to be lost?

He understood all too well that many people at court treated others according to their status.

If the emperor killed He Chongan today, those below would assume that the He family had fallen from power. They would naturally exalt the mighty and trample the weak. The Marquis of Wuning was already facing grave danger in the West Sea. With pressure mounting from behind as well, the slightest misstep might cause him to lose his footing.

The West Sea could then become impossible to defend.

The emperor even entertained an extreme suspicion.

Having discovered that the situation could not be salvaged, might the Marquis of Wuning choose another path?

For instance, surrender.

Perhaps the Marquis of Wuning was not prepared to share the state’s fortunes unto death, but he was still the heir of a marquisate with a history of a hundred years. Such an act seemed to offer him little benefit. Yet many events in history obeyed no logic.

Betrayal in particular was difficult to understand. Even after a thousand years, no one could explain why Mi Fang had betrayed Liu Bei.

Previously, the emperor had thought that the Marquis of Wuning was merely an ordinary regional commander. There were dozens of men like him in the imperial court, and he was hardly worth mentioning. Why should the emperor concern himself with his thoughts?

But now he had discovered that the Marquis of Wuning was in fact the commander standing on Great Xia’s front line against the Western Barbarians, and that the West Sea was an active theater of war.

When dealing with such matters, the emperor had always been cautious. It was like handling a time bomb. One had to cut the wires carefully. Before it had been disarmed, every indulgence was permissible.

The emperor’s gaze passed over He Chongan, and he thought to himself, He is a clever man.

He Chongan’s little schemes were entirely exposed before the emperor.

But compared with affairs of state, those schemes were utterly insignificant.

“Duke Ning, what do you have to say about this?”

Duke Ning, Pei Fu, remained silent for a moment before saying, “This is my fault. I beg Your Majesty to punish me.”

Duke Ning was actually in an unjust position. The emperor himself had neglected the government, and many matters could only be handled according to precedent. Those below reported good news and concealed bad. As for the West Sea’s need for funds, where were they to come from? Someone had to make the decision.

Moreover, the West Sea appeared to be winning battle after battle. To many people in the rear who had never experienced war, the situation did not seem especially serious. What could possibly be so grave about winning all the time?

But the emperor had asked, and Duke Ning already knew what his fate would be. Taking responsibility for one more matter or one less made no difference to him. He did not care anymore.

The emperor gave a cold snort.

“Zheng Bangcheng.”

“I am here.” Zheng Bangcheng immediately stepped forward.

“Do you know about the affairs of the West Sea?”

“I know a little, but not much. In truth, over the past few years, the Southern Sea has been frequented by Western Barbarian ships, and the Southern Sea Fleet has encountered Western fleets several times.”

That was the truth.

To make money, the Westerners stopped at nothing.

Great Xia occupied the Southern Seas, including the most important spice islands. Trade between East and West was immensely profitable, and Great Xia had monopolized it entirely.

How could the Westerners simply remain obedient and refrain from crossing the boundary?

Page 3 of 3

All they could do was avoid a direct confrontation with the Southern Sea Fleet, which Great Xia had spent more than a decade building and which was no weaker than the principal sailing battle fleets of the West. They dared not fight openly. Instead, they smuggled goods across the borders. But there were too many islands and too many waterways in the Southern Seas. The Westerners secretly colluded with the natives and conducted trade with them.

The Southern Sea Governor’s Office was unable to exert much influence over such matters.

“Since that is the case, I order you to make a trip to the Privy Council on my behalf and investigate every matter related to the war in the West Sea.”

Zheng Bangcheng had been standing guard there that day, yet his heart had gone through something like a roller coaster.

At first, the emperor had seemed inclined to favor Duke Ning.

Zheng Bangcheng had immediately felt that this attempt at probing the situation had gone wrong.

Then He Chongan exposed the matter concerning Prince Jin.

Zheng Bangcheng had been shocked and enraged, and had nearly lost control of himself.

What was the Sixth Prince?

The emperor’s eldest son.

In the eyes of the civil officials, he was the undisputed candidate for crown prince.

By directly challenging Prince Jin, He Chongan had dragged the struggle for succession into the open.

Zheng Bangcheng’s first thought had been: He Chongan is trying to destroy me. There is someone behind him, and he wants to drag my family into the mire.

In an instant, countless conspiracies had flashed through Zheng Bangcheng’s mind.

There had even been a trace of murderous intent in his eyes as he looked at He Chongan.

Then the emperor had prepared to turn the charge back upon He Chongan.

Zheng Bangcheng had felt no ripple in his heart. He had even thought, It would be better for everyone if this menace died.

He Chongan had somehow turned the tables completely. When the emperor questioned Zheng Bangcheng, he still had no plan in mind. But he had served before the emperor for many years and absolutely did not dare lie to him. Naturally, he had said exactly what he knew.

He had never imagined that the emperor would send him to investigate the Privy Council.

For a moment, he was both delighted and astonished.

Although Zheng Bangcheng was the commander of the imperial guards, his rank was extremely high: third grade.

Nor was he an exception. The one or two hundred imperial guards under his command were the same. Even the lowest-ranking among them held seventh grade.

In Great Xia’s institutional design, the imperial guards were by no means merely protectors of the emperor. In fact, guarding the emperor was far from their most important duty.

Nor were the imperial guards simply the palace experts people imagined them to be.

They were the emperor’s reserve of talent.