Seeing Zhan Buxiu remain silent, Meng Xizhao thought he was unwilling. “What, you think this is too much?”
Zhan Buxiu paused, then shook his head. “If it works, then it’s a good strategy.”
Meng Xizhao immediately broke into a grin—only to hear him add, “Though… it is rather excessive.”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
Zhan Buxiu lifted his gaze, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “In war, deception is never too much. Being excessive toward the enemy is only what they deserve.”
Could you not pause like that mid-sentence?
Feeling a bit speechless, Meng Xizhao fell silent for a moment before saying, “Recently I made a little device. It should be useful to you—I’ll bring it to you later.”
Then he paused and suddenly asked, “If I remember correctly, part of Poyang Lake lies within Jizhou, and the area is full of marshes.”
Zhan Buxiu nodded. “The marshlands are also part of Nanzhao’s defenses. Most of our soldiers don’t know how to traverse them, but the Nanzhao do. On top of that, the marshes are filled with miasma. They’ve tried several times to lure us closer, but fortunately General Ding is familiar with Jizhou’s terrain, so we haven’t fallen for it.”
Meng Xizhao blinked. “Then… have the soldiers’ health been affected?”
Zhan Buxiu gave a quiet “mm.” “Some fell ill after arriving in Jizhou. But there’s nothing to be done about it.”
Meng Xizhao immediately refuted him. “Who says there’s nothing to be done?”
Zhan Buxiu froze.
Meng Xizhao leaned in, lowering his voice mysteriously. “I knew this would happen. When you set out, you were fighting for Longxing Prefecture, so it didn’t occur to me. But now that you’re at Jizhou, I remembered—miasma entering the body makes people sick. Before taking office, I brought along a physician who’s especially skilled in toxicology. Take him with you when you leave tomorrow. He’s not only good at making poisons, but also at curing them. Isn’t miasma just another form of toxin? Let him stay with your army and study how to counter it.”
Zhan Buxiu was visibly moved. Meng Xizhao had truly thought of everything for him.
He nodded gladly. “Good. But will this physician be able to endure living and eating alongside the army?”
Meng Xizhao answered without hesitation, “He can.”
“He’s even been to the Xiongnu and never fell ill along the way. Clearly, he’s in excellent health.”
Zhan Buxiu: “…………”
He looked confused. “The Xiongnu?”
Meng Xizhao met his gaze, then calmly picked up his teacup.
He sipped leisurely, while Zhan Buxiu’s tone rose. “The Xiongnu??”
Since entering the prefectural office, Zhan Buxiu realized his usually half-lidded eyes hadn’t relaxed once.
Now wide open, he could hardly believe his guess. “This physician… is the same one you took to the Xiongnu?”
“Didn’t you say he was just a government physician? Since when does a government doctor know how to make poison?”
Then suddenly, he fell silent—because he remembered the former Xiongnu chanyu, whose cause of death had always been unclear.
The way Zhan Buxiu looked at Meng Xizhao became downright horrified.
He had suspected something before—everything had aligned too perfectly, always turning out the way Meng Xizhao wanted. But he never imagined Meng Xizhao would dare to assassinate the Xiongnu chanyu so openly.
And succeed.
And walk away unscathed.
Meanwhile, Meng Xizhao continued sipping his tea, unhurried. No matter what Zhan Buxiu asked, he gave no answer. And seeing this, Zhan Buxiu understood.
“…………”
He abruptly stood, both shocked and furious. “Do you have any idea what kind of consequences a single misstep could have brought?!”
Only then did Meng Xizhao set down his teacup. He looked up at him. “Then do you know what kind of consequences would have come if I hadn’t acted? With the Chu princess’s fierce temper, the old chanyu’s muddleheadedness, and the ambitious nature of the Xiongnu crown prince?”
Zhan Buxiu was momentarily stunned, but quickly replied, “But those things hadn’t happened yet.”
Meng Xizhao said, “Precisely because they hadn’t happened—that’s why they needed to be strangled in the cradle.”
As he said this, his gaze lowered, his expression calm and indifferent.
But Zhan Buxiu could hear the firmness in his voice—unyielding, unquestionable.
Of course. This had been planned all along. Step by step, Meng Xizhao had carried it out. He had never intended to tell anyone. Even now, he had only revealed the truth on his own. Otherwise, Zhan Buxiu would never have known what had truly happened behind the scenes while they were in Xiongnu territory.
And yet, this Meng Xizhao was not unfamiliar. In Zhan Buxiu’s mind, he had always been this kind of person.
What he couldn’t accept was that Meng Xizhao had made such a monumental decision alone—and never once told him.
“If you had told me back in Xiongnu, then I—”
Meng Xizhao looked at him, puzzled.
Zhan Buxiu’s words caught in his throat.
He had wanted to say—
Then I could have helped you.
I could have protected you… and made your plan even more foolproof.
But the matter had already passed. And truthfully, whether he had known or not, things would have unfolded the same—dangerous when they had to be, safe when they could be. His presence wouldn’t have changed anything.
A deep sense of frustration suddenly welled up in Zhan Buxiu.
From kneeling before his father’s killer in Chongzheng Hall to earn the rank of Guerrilla General, to finally leading troops into battle—this Longxing Prefecture had been taken with him at the head of five thousand elite soldiers, charging through the breached gates and tearing open the first line of Nanzhao defenses for the army behind.
To fight on the battlefield—what exhilaration. To protect the people—what honor.
He had always believed he had lived up to what Meng Xizhao once said: to serve only the people, not the court.
No one had ever asked him, and he had never said it aloud, but deep down, he had been proud.
And yet, that pride came to an abrupt halt today.
Because he realized—what he had done was nothing.
Meng Xizhao had gone farther, climbed higher, and was still moving upward. Zhan Buxiu thought himself a general, but in Meng Xizhao’s eyes… he was probably no different from the ordinary soldiers outside.
Same weight. Same inability to truly help him.
Zhan Buxiu fell silent, his expression dimming.
Meng Xizhao looked at him strangely, feeling increasingly irritated.
He truly could not get used to this ancient habit of suddenly clamming up mid-conversation.
If you’re thinking something, just say it! If you don’t, how am I supposed to guess?!
So, after some thought, he awkwardly tried to comfort him. “I didn’t tell you back then because the situation was special. I didn’t even know if I’d succeed. If I failed… wouldn’t that have been embarrassing?”
Zhan Buxiu glanced at him but said nothing.
He didn’t believe a word of it.
Since when did Meng Xizhao care about appearances? He only cared about results.
The real reason he hadn’t been told was simple—whether he knew or not made no difference.
Zhan Buxiu lowered his eyelids, lips pressed together, clearly unwilling to speak further.
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
Even if he wouldn’t talk, Meng Xizhao still had to. “After you take the physician back, get a transfer order from General Ding. Then take some troops and head to Jian Dao Ridge, south of Mount Lu. There’s a rebel group hiding there—go capture them.”
Zhan Buxiu looked up in surprise. “Rebels?”
Meng Xizhao nodded. “They’re all from Jiangzhou. The leader’s name is Guan Yousan. He used to be a household guard, but after his employer dismissed him, he turned into a thug, gathering a gang of ruffians who caused trouble all over Jiangzhou. After Longxing Prefecture fell last year, Jiangzhou also descended into chaos for a while. There was a rebellion, but it was quickly suppressed—the leader was captured and executed. But the remaining forces were taken in by Guan Yousan. The authorities didn’t pursue them, and they stopped causing open trouble. Instead, they began stirring things up in secret, sowing discord, and winning people over.”
After a pause, he continued, “Those they recruit are mostly refugees, beggars, hooligans, and others who can’t make a living. Afraid of being discovered by the Jiangzhou governor, Guan Yousan relocated them all to Jian Dao Ridge. There’s an old nunnery there from the Jin Dynasty—long abandoned. Only two elderly nuns over fifty were still living there. Guan Yousan saw the place was remote and had buildings, so he killed the two nuns and turned it into his base.”
Zhan Buxiu’s face darkened with anger. This Guan Yousan wasn’t fit to be called human—he was scum.
Then a thought struck him, and he paused. “How do you know all this?”
Meng Xizhao sighed. “Because Guan Yousan has already extended his reach into Longxing Prefecture.”
Zhan Buxiu was startled.
Meng Xizhao continued with another sigh, looking helpless. “When I first arrived, the people in the city were already causing trouble. Someone even dared to assault the newly appointed Vice Prefect. These incidents all erupted at once—it felt suspicious. So I investigated and found someone had been manipulating things from behind the scenes. Once we caught a few and put them under interrogation, they couldn’t hold out and confessed everything.”
At this point, he turned to Zhan Buxiu and blinked. “The man who led the unrest here is named Sun Houquan—one of Guan Yousan’s right-hand men. He said their plan was to win over the people of Longxing Prefecture as well, then pick the right moment to rise up, kill all officials and soldiers, seize Longxing Prefecture and Jiangzhou, declare themselves kings, and then march on Yingtian Prefecture.”
“They also said the world is in chaos because officials are useless. So they want to kill every official under heaven—exterminate their clans to the third degree, leave no family members or servants alive.” Meng Xizhao sighed. “If they actually succeed… not just you and me—even our families wouldn’t survive.”
As he spoke, he casually observed Zhan Buxiu’s expression.
Good. He was completely enraged now.
Family was Zhan Buxiu’s bottom line—especially his sister. Anyone who dared touch her was as good as dead.
Still, since none of this had happened yet, he retained some rationality. Frowning, he asked, “How many men have they gathered?”
Meng Xizhao quickly replied, “Around ten thousand. But they’re not real soldiers—more like a mob. Take troops there under the pretext of bandit suppression. Capture the leaders, and the rest will scatter. Nothing to worry about.”
Zhan Buxiu, however, disagreed. “If they joined Guan Yousan, then they already know they’re rebelling. If we spare them, what if they cause trouble again?”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
As expected of a future emperor—already worrying about instability before even taking the throne.
After a pause, he said, “Are you planning to kill all ten thousand? They’re people who couldn’t survive to begin with—whether they die or not may not seem different. But ten thousand lives on your hands… could you truly live with that?”
Zhan Buxiu glanced at him, pressed his lips together—and said nothing.
He really could stay calm.
If he simply decided that this group of people were rebels, then as one of Great Qi’s generals, for Zhan Buxiu to lead troops over and wipe out this rabble wouldn’t be a problem at all.
But since Meng Xizhao had asked him that question, Zhan Buxiu began to think. Sometimes rebellion was just rebellion—but sometimes, it was the people being driven to revolt by corrupt officials.
At that thought, Zhan Buxiu let out a sigh. “In the end, I’m not as kindhearted as you.”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
Kindhearted?
Since when did those two words have anything to do with him?
Meng Xizhao twitched his lips. “I’m not kindhearted. I just think it’s unnecessary. You’ve never had to manage a region’s manpower and grain—you don’t realize how valuable people are. Every single life lost pains me.”
Zhan Buxiu shook his head, unconcerned with his explanation. He only asked, “When do you want me to bring the troops over?”
Meng Xizhao thought for a moment. “Ten days from now. I need to send Sun Houquan and the others to Jiangzhou City first and inform the prefect there. Once the Jiangzhou prefect issues a formal request, you can set out.”
With something this big happening, the Jiangzhou prefect was probably scared out of his wits. With the soldiers under his command, there was no way he could handle an army of ten thousand rebels. Under normal circumstances, he would report to Ying Tian Prefecture immediately, then request troops from the regional military commissioner to suppress the rebellion.
But since Meng Xizhao had already brought Zhan Buxiu in, there was no way he would let such a massive military merit fall into someone else’s hands.
Only now did Zhan Buxiu finally understand why Meng Xizhao had told him to request a transfer order as soon as he returned.
Meng Xizhao was handing him a tremendous military achievement on a silver platter.
Zhan Buxiu looked at him for a long moment before asking, “You kept asking about Ji Prefecture before. You want us to take it back as soon as possible, don’t you?”
Meng Xizhao paused, then nodded. “I’m the prefect of Longxing Prefecture. Of course I want Ji Prefecture recovered quickly. With Ji Prefecture, we gain a strategic pass, and Nanzhao’s threat to Longxing Prefecture will be greatly reduced.”
However, after hearing the details from Xie Yuan and Zhan Buxiu, Meng Xizhao had realized this wasn’t something that could be accomplished overnight.
The terrain was too advantageous, and the Nanzhao people were famously fearless. They might abandon Longxing Prefecture, but they would never easily give up Ji Prefecture.
After all, Meng Xizhao wanted a defensive pass, and they wanted their national gateway. A city that was easy to defend and hard to attack—who wouldn’t want it?
Meng Xizhao didn’t understand military command. He could offer a few underhanded tricks to help break a stalemate, but as for actual troop movements, that was up to Ding Chun and Zhan Buxiu.
After hearing him out, Zhan Buxiu’s expression didn’t change. He simply said, “Understood.”
Meng Xizhao: “……”
Understood what?
Bringing along the crude amplifier Meng Xizhao had previously lent to Daoist Zangchen, as well as a thoroughly dispirited Teng Kangning, Zhan Buxiu set off back toward Ji Prefecture.
Teng Kangning couldn’t help but feel that the places he was being sent were getting more and more remote.
Last year it was the Xiongnu. This year it was Nanzhao. What about next year? Where would Meng Xizhao send him then? Across the sea to Dongying?
……
Meng Xizhao stood there smiling as he saw them off. On the way back, he passed several commoners. He smiled at them, but they responded with nervous bows.
Well—such was the state of the people. There wasn’t much he could do to change it.
After seeing them off, Meng Xizhao returned to the prefectural office and repeated what he had told Zhan Buxiu to Xie Yuan. This time, there was no need to exaggerate and claim the rebels wanted to slaughter all officials and their families. Xie Yuan was a man of steady temperament—even if he heard such things, he wouldn’t react dramatically.
After listening, Xie Yuan frowned slightly. “Sun Houquan—is he the Jiangzhou man you arrested during the court session that day?”
Meng Xizhao nodded. After Sun Houquan was captured, his three accomplices were quickly turned in by eager citizens hoping to claim the reward. Finding spies was difficult, but finding outsiders was easy—just ask a few questions, and their cover would fall apart.
This large-scale “spy-catching movement” even brought an unexpected bonus.
They had accidentally caught several spies from Nanzhao.
Only after seeing them did Meng Xizhao realize that, unlike the Xiongnu, Nanzhao people were almost indistinguishable from the people of Great Qi. As long as they changed clothes and spoke fluent court language, no one could tell them apart.
It was said that when Nanzhao assassins once infiltrated the imperial palace, they had done so in exactly this way. Compared to other nations, Nanzhao truly had a unique advantage.
……
Xie Yuan gathered his thoughts, considering the matter carefully. After a while, he looked up. “Why must you go to Jiangzhou personally? Sending a few constables to escort them would suffice. You said yourself that Jiangzhou is about to fall into chaos—why risk entering danger?”
Meng Xizhao sighed. “I don’t want to go either. But if I don’t, how can I be sure others won’t collude and steal the credit?”
Xie Yuan: “…………”
Even after working with him for some time, he still couldn’t get used to Meng Xizhao’s blunt honesty.
Meng Xizhao smiled at him. “Besides, there are some matters I need to oversee personally to feel at ease.”
Xie Yuan sensed that he wasn’t talking about the rebel situation. “What matters?”
Meng Xizhao only smiled without answering.
Xie Yuan: “……”
Fine.
If he didn’t want to say it, then he wouldn’t ask.
Xie Yuan simply sighed lightly. “Then I hope you return soon, my lord. My life is now tied to your safe return.”
Meng Xizhao laughed. “No problem, no problem.”
After finishing his instructions with Xie Yuan, Meng Xizhao returned to write a letter and had a constable deliver it to the Jiangzhou prefect. Only after making these arrangements did he leisurely head to the prison—to pay a visit to the rebel spies.
When Sun Houquan saw Meng Xizhao appear, his face filled instantly with naked fear.
Meng Xizhao had told Zhan Buxiu and Xie Yuan that everything he knew about the rebel army had been extracted from Sun Houquan through brutal torture—but in truth, this was only the second time the two had ever met.
The first had been in the courtroom.
After Sun Houquan was captured, Meng Xizhao had ordered the constables to beat him every day—beating him until he wished for death, yet never letting him die. Medicine was applied, he was given one night to recover, then dragged somewhere else the next day to be beaten again.
After living like this in endless darkness for some time, Sun Houquan had completely lost his former viciousness. Now he was like a rat afraid of the light. When he saw Meng Xizhao, he didn’t even dare beg for mercy anymore—he was afraid it would only earn him another beating.
A constable brought over a chair. Meng Xizhao sat down across from him, a faint smile on his face, simply watching him.
Sun Houquan trembled as he met his gaze. Time passed, second by second. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.
“M-my lord, spare me! I won’t dare again! I truly won’t dare again!”
Meng Xizhao let out a soft, ambiguous chuckle. “Spare you? Then who will spare my people? Because of a few words from you, the prison is now overflowing—every one of them a condemned man. Your life is a life—are theirs not lives too?”
…
Of course, he was only saying this because Sun Houquan was locked in solitary and had no way of knowing what was happening outside.
In reality, those “condemned prisoners” were doing just fine—three meals a day, working up a sweat, their muscles visibly growing stronger by the day.
Hearing Meng Xizhao’s words, Sun Houquan’s face turned utterly miserable. His lips trembled twice, and then he burst into loud sobs.
“I was wrong… I know I was wrong…”
Heh. If he could truly know he was wrong, Meng Xizhao might as well change his name.
…
Anyone capable of doing something this vile—there was no point expecting them to have a conscience.
Meng Xizhao glanced at him once, then stopped wasting words. “If you want me to spare you—that’s impossible. What you’ve done, whether judged here at the prefectural court, or by the judicial office, or even sent all the way to Ying Tian Prefecture for the Ministry of Justice to decide—you won’t escape death.”
“And not just death. You’ll be executed by lingchi.”
Sun Houquan’s face was soaked with tears. He knew Meng Xizhao wasn’t lying, and his despair deepened even further.
At that moment, Meng Xizhao’s expression softened slightly. “That said… after so many days of beatings, you’ve suffered enough. Perhaps I can grant you a quick death—spare you some of that pain.”
Sniffling and choking, Sun Houquan still managed to stammer, “Th-thank you, my lord…”
Meng Xizhao shook his head. “Don’t thank me yet. If you want to avoid the punishment of lingchi, then you’ll have to do something for me. Only after you’ve done it will I fulfill my promise.”
Sun Houquan wiped his tears, looking at him with confusion. “What… does my lord want me to do?”
Meng Xizhao smiled slightly. “Very simple. In a few days, I’ll take you to Jiangzhou. Your boss, Guan Yousan, will also be brought there to reunite with you. All you have to do is tell the Jiangzhou prefect that you are his deputy—his right-hand man.”
“And that while you appeared to be rebelling on your own, in truth, Guan Yousan accepted benefits from Nanzhao. He planned to attack Jiangzhou and Longxing Prefecture from within and then present them to Nanzhao. In return, he would receive endless wealth and glory.”
Sun Houquan: “…………”
He stared at Meng Xizhao in utter shock, so stunned he didn’t even question how Meng Xizhao knew his leader was Guan Yousan.
“B-but… how could we possibly do such a thing? We never thought of that!”
The smile vanished from Meng Xizhao’s face. He shot to his feet, glaring. “I said you will say it this way! What—are you unwilling? Fine. Then forget Jiangzhou—stay here and take those three thousand six hundred cuts!”
Sun Houquan: “…………”
“N-no! I’m willing! I’m willing!”
Either way, he was going to die. If Guan Yousan hadn’t sweet-talked him into joining in the first place, he wouldn’t have abandoned his butcher’s trade and ended up like this.
Just accusing Guan Yousan of colluding with a foreign power and secretly siding with Nanzhao? No problem!
Sun Houquan even decided to embellish it a bit himself. “My lord, how about adding another line? Say that the Nanzhao emperor wanted to marry his daughter to him, and he committed all these crimes just so he could marry into their royal family!”
Meng Xizhao: “……”
He looked at Sun Houquan with a complicated expression.
Thinking about how, in the original story, Xie Yuan had been killed by people like this—if he were Xie Yuan, he definitely wouldn’t be able to rest in peace.