Meng Xizhao frowned, remaining silent and not letting her go.
Gu Pingting grew nervous.
After all, Meng Xizhao was a stranger to her. They shared no history. Previously, his help had likely been out of sympathy. Now, her thoughts were exposed. Any reasonable person, he would likely suppress them immediately.
They were already acquainted, and if she lost control, he would be implicated.
Gu Pingting, who had begged for scraps as a child and later served in the Su household, had endured life’s harshness while protecting the young Su girl with her frail body. She knew that, unless absolutely necessary, she could not confront force with force. She simply did not have the ability.
She pressed her lips together, weighing whether to kneel and cry, hoping to trigger Meng Xizhao’s pity and be allowed to leave.
Kneeling was not new to her. Her godmother had been like that—constantly following someone like a sticky salve, kneeling and kowtowing, discarding all dignity just to earn a meager favor.
Her godmother had exploited her widowhood, living close to the palace and connected to a deceased military officer. Seeing Gu Pingting’s nimbleness, she took her in as unpaid labor.
Such lowliness brought no true affection, but Gu Pingting did not mind—it suited her well: both parties gained what they needed without indebtedness.
Now, her hesitation was not about shame—it was whether this tactic would even work on Meng Xizhao.
At first, she had thought him an ordinary man from Qi with a few resources. Now, she was unsure.
Just as she finished her deliberation and was about to risk it all, her knees bending to the floor, Meng Xizhao spoke, interrupting her motion.
He said, “Miss Gu, I have something I want to ask you.”
Gu Pingting froze. “You… you may speak.”
Meng Xizhao guided her back onto the chair and then asked, “Ten years ago, when Lord Su Wanjun committed suicide in prison out of fear of punishment, do you know if he was guilty?”
Gu Pingting stared at Meng Xizhao for a long moment before she finally spoke. “How… how do you know my master’s name?”
Meng Xizhao blinked. “Don’t worry about that for now. Just tell me—what really happened back then?”
“…”
After a pause, Gu Pingting looked at him suspiciously. Hesitating for a few seconds, she said, “At the time… I was still very young, always by Lady Su’s side. I knew nothing of my master’s affairs. But after he was taken, my lady held me close and said that my master would never commit such a crime. She told me not to bear resentment toward anyone, to forget the past, even to forget my father. To grow up in peace—that was her greatest wish for me.”
Meng Xizhao considered this quietly.
Gu Pingting noticed his expression and suddenly remembered something else. She added, “Ah, yes. On the day my master was arrested, I was standing nearby. Everything happened so suddenly, so vividly I remember. My master appeared calm, and my lady did not cry—she just held me tightly. It seemed as if they had foreseen this event.”
Meng Xizhao let out a derisive laugh. “Qiu Suming, holding the tax collections from Hebei’s transport officials—all the goods and silver went through his hands. His power grew, and so did his audacity. Frankly, he was a local tyrant. Altering tax records, doubling corvée, appointing and dismissing officials—it all depended on his word. He could push out a prefect he disliked and make him take the blame. That was nothing at all.”
Thinking of the man made Meng Xizhao angry—but the truth was, in his current position, there was nothing he could do to Qiu Suming.
Meng Xizhao could technically be called a provincial governor. He governed Longxing Prefecture, the only prefecture in the Western Jiangnan Circuit. In that sense, he was like a high-ranking official in half of the Western Jiangnan Circuit. Qiu Suming, however, controlled the whole circuit.
Ten years ago, Qiu Suming was already so powerful. Now, as a commander of the Three Offices, he seldom stayed in Yingtian Prefecture, instead traveling everywhere to amass wealth. The entire Qi state seemed like his private garden—where he went, he went; and Emperor Tianshou did not intervene. His father-in-law supported him even more.
To challenge Qiu Suming, Meng Xizhao would have to confront Grand Tutor Gan and all the officials bribed by Qiu Suming. No matter how clever he was, a sharp mind could not match so many mouths.
Unless he could bypass the ministers and appeal directly to Emperor Tianshou. If he could stand up and demonstrate that Qiu Suming had gone too far, the ministers would have no choice but to fall silent.
Pressing his lips together, Meng Xizhao sneaked a glance at Gu Pingting, only to realize she had been staring at him for some time, wide-eyed.
Meng Xizhao: “….”
Gu Pingting stared back, stunned. “You… who… who exactly are you?”
Meng Xizhao let out a small “ah,” pinching his fingers nervously. “I apologize for not being honest before. The main reason was I did not know your background and feared you might have been sent by Rosahua to watch me. Actually, my surname is not Jin—it is Meng. My given name is Xizhao. You probably haven’t heard of me. I only came to Longxing Prefecture in February this year as the new prefect.”
Gu Pingting was shocked.
“P… Prefect?! So, you were sent by the court? You’re here to coordinate with the Qi army and undermine the Nanzhao dynasty from within?”
Meng Xizhao: “….”
The sequence of events was all wrong; he had just been unlucky to be captured.
He vaguely nodded. “Something like that.”
After a pause, he added, “So, as for revenge, you need not worry. That Luomailong… won’t survive the month.”
Gu Pingting asked, “And the others?”
Meng Xizhao was momentarily taken aback. “Others? Who else?”
The one who killed Lady Su was just Luomailong.
Gu Pingting: “The Nanzhao emperor Zhen’an Luo, who ordered the attack on Hongzhou, the Nanzhao people who abducted Qi men and women, the Nanzhao princess Rosahua who mixed bloodlines, and all the Nanzhao people in Ningren Mansion who aided and abetted them.”
Meng Xizhao: “….”
He was stunned.
He had assumed Gu Pingting only wanted Luomailong dead—he had not expected her plan was to annihilate the entire Nanzhao line.
Ruthless…
Meng Xizhao’s heart skipped. Clearing his throat, he said with effort, “What you say… is not impossible.”
Just as Gu Pingting’s eyes lit up, Meng Xizhao hastily added, “But! If you do this, the border will never know peace again.”
The light in Gu Pingting’s eyes dimmed. Her brow furrowed. “Why? If all the Nanzhao people are dead, this land belongs to Qi. No more tragedies would occur in the future.”
Meng Xizhao: “….”
After a moment of silence, he said, “The Nanzhao people cannot be exterminated. Throughout history, countless have tried. Killing alone never succeeds, because there are always survivors. They hide, recuperate, and when they resurface, the group is again formidable. Rosahua understood this principle—mixing bloodlines, so no one can tell who is Nanzhao or Qi. Eventually, a nation is absorbed, and its people vanish into history.”
Gu Pingting: “What about wiping out just the Nanzhao royal family?”
Meng Xizhao pressed his lips together. “I do not intend to do that.”
The words slipped out unconsciously, yet Gu Pingting looked at him in surprise.
How to treat a foreign royal family shouldn’t even be Meng Xizhao’s concern, yet he had not only considered it, he had made a decision as if he already knew it would be carried out.
Gu Pingting remained silent, watching him, while Meng Xizhao continued patiently explaining: “Qi state now… is in a dangerous situation. There are too many surrounding nations, and except for Nanzhao, almost none are at war. Even the Xiongnu coexist peacefully with the Yuezhi and the Jurchens. Even if there are minor clashes, they do not escalate into major wars. That means they all have the leisure and capacity to attack Qi.”
“The three northern nations aren’t a real threat. They are walking a tightrope—one wrong step and war would erupt—so we don’t need to worry about them for now. But the south, and the west… the Tubo tribes have maintained peace with the Central Plains for a very, very long time.”
When he emphasized the last few words, Gu Pingting looked at him blankly, clearly not understanding what the problem was.
Meng Xizhao explained further: “…Tubo and Qi are at peace because there are no conflicting interests and no reason for war. But if Qi were to strike Nanzhao, Dali would panic. Their borders with Qi would expand manyfold. Even if we have no intention of attacking them, they would be fearful. After all, Dali has plenty of snakes… and if their emperor decided to act, what then?”
“Everyone knows the principle of striking first. Qi has waged countless campaigns over the years; even if it’s not obvious, it’s clear that our treasury is depleted. If Dali were to join forces with Tubo to seize the opportunity, the frontlines would be far longer than they are now. I have no desire to test Tubo’s current strength firsthand.”
In historical records, the Tubo tribes were conquered by Genghis Khan—a once-in-millennia military genius. On this entire planet, few could even be compared to him. Although Zhan Buxiu is the protagonist of this story, Meng Xizhao honestly thought he was nowhere near Genghis Khan’s level.
It had already taken several years to subdue Nanzhao—expecting him to conquer Tubo as well? Forget it. That task was for the talents of a later generation.
Meng Xizhao’s focus now was simply to let the people farm properly, to ensure they had enough food, and only after that consider expanding territory.
Gu Pingting seemed to understand his concerns but could not accept the result. “So we’re just letting them go? After all the suffering they’ve caused for so many years, you, sir, are willing to let what we’ve gained slip away?”
Meng Xizhao blinked. “Who said we’re letting it slip?”
Gu Pingting: “…”
Wasn’t that exactly what you said just now?
Meng Xizhao smiled. “What I mean is, we leave Nanzhao a bit of space. Let them continue to be neighbors with Dali. Qi still needs this buffer, still needs time to recuperate. If the Nanzhao people know they can escape, they won’t fight recklessly. Rational people make rational choices, and that benefits both them and us.”
Though Meng Xizhao spoke lightly, on the battlefield, his words could save nearly a hundred thousand lives.
Even though World War I and II weapons were far more advanced than the black powder and firearms they had, victories were still built on human lives. Meng Xizhao could not control what others would do afterward. He knew that eventual unification was inevitable, and by then, many would still die. He simply felt a quiet satisfaction—because his era allowed him to act boldly, rather than become numb standing on the shoulders of reason.
Gu Pingting looked at him for a long time before lowering her head. “Your foresight and wisdom are far beyond me. I cannot match it, nor can I achieve it.”
Meng Xizhao glanced at her. “Luomailong will die on the battlefield; Emperor Zhen’an Luo will be routed, his lifelong reputation ruined—worse than killing him directly. Rosahua will walk the most difficult path in the world. We can watch together—see whether she climbs step by step, or is pushed down midway, shattered to pieces.”
Gu Pingting paused. “I thought you spared her life because you felt pity for her.”
Meng Xizhao: “….”
How clingy she was even in her words.
He twitched the corner of his mouth, thought for a moment, then nodded. “There’s a bit of that. After all, Rosahua is a formidable woman. But she is Nanzhao. Our positions are different. No matter how much I sympathize with her, I cannot let her go. I sympathize far more with the people of Qi.”
Gu Pingting pondered, looking at him. “So today, you’ve spoken so much you shouldn’t have… also out of sympathy for me?”
Meng Xizhao looked at her and couldn’t help but smile. “Miss Gu, you truly are perceptive.”
After a pause, he shook his head. “Go back for now. Don’t let anyone notice anything unusual. Today… is not a good day. Rest, calm yourself, and when a better day comes, I will come to find you again.”
Gu Pingting hesitated, but ultimately left.
Soon after, Jia Renliang and Wang Sili curiously approached. Wang Sili had been drawn out by the woman’s cries, but because Meng Xizhao and Gu Pingting had spoken for so long, Wang Sili feared he couldn’t complete the task Meng Xizhao had assigned and went back to carve a nameplate. By the time he returned, Gu Pingting was already gone.
They asked Meng Xizhao who the young woman was. Meng Xizhao hummed and said, “A Qi native. I saw her crying and learned that someone dear to her had passed away. I couldn’t bear it, so I brought her back and comforted her a bit.”
Jia Renliang: “….”
Wang Sili: “….”
It wasn’t that they wanted to misinterpret, but Meng Xizhao’s words practically demanded it!
Are you really such a kind-hearted man? Your past heroic deeds are still remembered!
Seeing their expressions, Meng Xizhao became annoyed. “What’s the matter? I’m telling the truth! That girl has suffered enough—how could I have such thoughts? Besides, I don’t have that kind of courage!”
Huh? You can pacify a Nanzhao princess with ease, yet there are women you dare not act on?
The two men both wore puzzled expressions, about to ask for clarification, but Meng Xizhao impatiently waved them off, shooing them out.
Once they left, his expression gradually softened. He lowered his gaze and sat quietly—two full hours passed.
When he finally came back to himself, the moon had already risen high in the night sky.
Pushing open the window, Meng Xizhao looked at the silver-white moon above. His tangled thoughts slowly faded, replaced by simpler, more immediate ones.
Su Niangzi… died so miserably.
So many people live poorly, so many bear injustice.
He felt tired. He just wanted to lie down, quietly, comfortably, and sleep.
Cui Ye…
Perhaps it was from not blinking for so long, or perhaps for another reason, but Meng Xizhao lowered his head, sniffed, closed the window, and went to rest.
What Meng Xizhao didn’t know was that at the same time, Cui Ye also raised his head, bathed in the cool moonlight, gazing at the same patch of night sky.
Today’s great victory: thousands of Nanzhao soldiers had perished. The gunpowder hadn’t breached the walls of Ganzhou, but at this rate, within five days, Ganzhou would fall.
Inside Ganzhou, Qi spies reported that the Nanzhao people were in chaos, fleeing for their lives. Their crown prince forbade escape—anyone caught fleeing was immediately executed. The city was full of complaints and fear. The Nanzhao prince’s actions grew increasingly extreme, seemingly intent on forcing the entire population to support the frontlines.
Luomailong was a man of principle, unwilling to retreat. Fine—let him die here.
Lowering his head, he fixed his gaze on the distant city walls of Ganzhou. Cui Ye thought of Meng Xizhao standing just ahead, a complex feeling stirring in his heart.
Zhang Shuogong had stood with him silently, only speaking after a long while. “Your Highness, it’s late. You should return to rest.”
Cui Ye nodded and turned to leave. Zhang Shuogong followed him into the main tent. Observing Cui Ye’s expression, he felt it was slightly better than two days ago, so he quietly asked, “Your Highness, when exactly do you plan to start taking the antidote?”
It had been frustrating. Zhang Shuogong had spent months tracking down a renowned doctor, only for the treatment plan to be rejected by the prince. Meanwhile, Yu Fulan—who had gotten lucky—found an obscure physician in just half a month. Yu Fulan swore the doctor was excellent. Zhang Shuogong, skeptical, had personally tested him on a man poisoned by snake venom. Seeing the cure succeed firsthand, he allowed the doctor to treat the prince.
This doctor immediately recognized the prince’s symptoms and proposed a different regimen: a year-long detoxification. During this period, if the prince took care not to suffer injuries, the residual poison could be fully removed.
Zhang Shuogong asked anxiously how long the prince would live after detoxification. The doctor replied: “That depends on fate.”
…Well, better than dying in ten years, at least.
Cui Ye immediately agreed to the plan. They arranged daily doses of herbal broth and a medicinal bath every seven days. Once begun, the treatment could not be interrupted—or all progress would be lost. The bath was reportedly painful at first, but the pain would vanish once the course began.
No one expected Meng Xizhao would be kidnapped mid-process. The herbs were ready, but Cui Ye didn’t mention detoxification. Zhang Shuogong didn’t push him; after all, the prince was still at the army camp—it wasn’t the right time. Zhang Shuogong mainly feared that Cui Ye might change his mind.
It was a classic case of success and failure hinging on a single factor. If Cui Ye abandoned treatment because of Meng Xizhao, Zhang Shuogong didn’t care what plans the prince had. He would risk everything to retrieve that unscrupulous Meng Xizhao from Nanzhao.
Seeing Zhang Shuogong’s anxious demeanor, Cui Ye understood why he had asked. Pausing briefly, he said, “I will begin taking the medicine on the day Meng Xizhao returns.”
Zhang Shuogong: “…………”
So he truly intended to live and die alongside the man surnamed Meng.
Zhang Shuogong panicked. “Your Highness, detoxification isn’t a game! If Meng Xizhao remains in Nanzhao for a year or more, must you also postpone for the same duration? If something happens to him and he never returns—”
Cui Ye abruptly glanced at him. One look, and Zhang Shuogong shut his mouth.
Seeing Zhang Shuogong stop, Cui Ye frowned slightly. “He will return. And soon. His urgency in pushing Zhan Buxiu to kill Luomailong shows his plan is pressing. The two men tracking Xie Yuan, following normal travel speed, will return to Nanzhao in a month. Even if he delays, it won’t be for long. At most, one month. He will be back by my side.”
Cui Ye spoke with absolute certainty. Zhang Shuogong couldn’t help but wonder, “Then why wait until the day he returns to start taking the medicine? Wouldn’t it be better to take it after returning to Yingtian Prefecture?”
Cui Ye paused, then said, “Because I want to teach him a lesson.”
Zhang Shuogong froze.
“He always wants to rush out, to escape danger. He thinks he has no obligations. I want him to understand the consequences of his recklessness.”
So… he intended to use the medicine to scare Meng Xizhao?
Zhang Shuogong: “…………”
Even he thought this strategy was cruel.
Wouldn’t it give Meng Xizhao lasting psychological scars?
Ah—no, that’s exactly the point…
Zhang Shuogong felt speechless. After a long pause, he finally said, “But Your Highness, this time Meng Xizhao didn’t enter danger of his own accord—”
It was others who kidnapped him! Can we at least be reasonable?
Cui Ye shot him a glance. “And yet? Even being sent to Longxing Prefecture, it was still his choice. If he had stayed in Yingtian, or gone to Lin’an or Yangzhou, somewhere closer, this wouldn’t have happened.”
The two men were left speechless—after all the talk, it turned out he still held grudges. Only then did Zhang Shuogong truly realize that Cui Ye was a true descendant of Cui Xun.