The Demon Lords

Chapter 439 51 Two-faced_2

Li Fusheng nodded.

Zheng Fan let out a long sigh.

Li Fusheng smiled.

Zheng Fan also smiled.

"Commander Zheng Fan of Green Willow Fortress, hear my command!"

"Present!"

"I order you to set out for the imperial capital of Qian State tonight to deliver an official dispatch!"

"This general... obeys!"

Previously, when he asked if I dared, I could have played coy, I could have been shameless. But once it's a formal military order, by military law, those who disobey are... beheaded!

Li Fusheng stretched, apparently pulling at his wound, and his movement stiffened for a moment. Then, he said, "Before you go, I'll have men shout beneath the walls of the imperial capital: 'Dare to kill my envoy, and I, Li Fusheng, will slaughter one hundred thousand civilians in their capital city to be buried alongside him!'"

...

"So, that's how things stand," Zheng Fan said, having recounted the earlier events by the campfire. "I initially refused. I know my personal safety is a minor concern, but I couldn't bear the thought of you all coming to harm because of me."

Xue Three then said, "My lord, don't worry about us. The thought of being envoys to the imperial capital of Qian State at a time like this... it's thrilling just to think about!"

Liang Cheng nodded.

A Ming nodded.

Siniang nodded.

Fanli slapped his forehead and exclaimed, "Exactly!"

Even the Mo Wan inside Zheng Fan's armor quivered slightly.

Zheng Fan was speechless. He felt utterly helpless and quite dismayed.

"My lord," Siniang said, "since you have to go, we need to decide who you'll take. Even though it's supposed to be a solitary diplomatic mission, you should be allowed a couple of attendants, right?"

"Yes, I can take two," Zheng Fan replied.

Xue Three immediately volunteered, "I'll go!"

"No," the Blind Man interjected.

"Why not?"

"It would be an affront to our state's dignity."

Xue Three was rendered speechless.

The Blind Man straightened his clothes. A trace of fatigue still lingered on his face, but he spoke with conviction, "I've spent this time researching the affairs of the Qian State's imperial court. I will accompany My lord. As for the other, it should be A Ming."

A Ming inclined his head slightly, signaling his assent.

There was nothing to be proud of; A Ming understood perfectly why he was chosen.

Fanli asked, somewhat puzzled, "What about me?"

"You, be quiet," the Blind Man said curtly.

They wouldn't dare take Fanli. What if he blurted out something outrageous in the Qian State's imperial court? He might provoke the Qian people to such an extent that they'd feel compelled to execute the envoy, diplomatic immunity be damned. For instance, he might bellow in the grand hall: "Hey, Emperor! Get your old butt off that dragon throne and let my lord have a sit!"

"Alright then," Zheng Fan declared, "let's prepare. We'll set out after dark."

He had resigned himself to it. The worst that could happen, he figured, was being riddled with arrows by the city defenders beneath the walls, turning him into a human pincushion.

"What about the official dispatch?" the Blind Man asked. Weren't you supposed to deliver one? So, where is it?

"Er..." Zheng Fan finally recalled. He said to the Blind Man, "Li Fusheng told me to write it myself."

The Blind Man nodded; preparing the dispatch would undoubtedly fall to him. He asked again, "And the requirements for it?" Even if you're writing an essay, you need a central argument.

Zheng Fan covered his face with his hands and sighed. "There's only one requirement."

The Blind Man let out a sigh of relief. Just one requirement? That should make things much simpler, he thought.

"It is to make the Qian people furious."

The Blind Man was speechless.

...

This diplomatic mission had not been part of the original plan; rather, it was a situation born from the intricate and evolving complexities of the war.

Li Fusheng's forces, after a Baili forced march, had forcibly crossed the Bian River and then swiftly captured Qian State's West Wind Crossing. This maneuver isolated the Qian troops in West Mountain County from their capital city.

Essentially, Li Fusheng faced only two options. One was to seize this window of opportunity and directly assault the imperial capital. The other was to employ various alternative methods to exert pressure on the civil and military officials of the Qian State's court, and on the Qian Emperor himself.

Zheng Fan didn't know if Li Fusheng would actually decide to assault the city. However, as he was leaving the military encampment, Zheng Fan had already seen soldiers of the North Defense Army conscripting nearby Qian civilians to fell trees and construct various implements. Some of these, it was clear at a glance, were siege engines.

The walls of the imperial capital were exceedingly high; the city itself teemed with a vast population. To conquer it in a short period was nigh impossible. Yet, with their army already at its gates, it would feel damnably remiss not to launch an assault at least once.

Most importantly, the consistently bizarre behavior of the Qian people encountered along their march had greatly boosted Li Fusheng's confidence. If they could manage to seize the imperial capital of Qian State in one fell swoop, capturing the emperor and all his civil and military officials, then Qian State would likely be finished for good.

One must always have dreams, but one also needs to lift a finger to strive for them.

The Blind Man, mounted on horseback, said, "My lord, if there is truly to be an assault on the city, they will undoubtedly use the captured civilians as the first wave of sacrificial troops."

"Mm," Zheng Fan acknowledged.

He understood what the Blind Man was implying; the latter was worried Zheng Fan wouldn't be able to stomach such a sight later on and was trying to prepare him.

But human beings were strange creatures. Chief Zheng had previously found himself unable to kill the young sword boy. Yet now, the thought of driving captured Qian civilians forward as the first wave of cannon fodder, to deplete the defenders' resources, somehow didn't seem like such a terrible thing.

It was either their lives or the lives of his own men. People are often quite compassionate, it seems, until their own interests are on the line.

A Ming raised a banner. In this era, the tradition of raising a white flag as a sign of truce didn't exist. While white was generally considered inauspicious, they needed something to declare their envoy status without diminishing their own side's prestige. Thus, they had to carry some sort of standard.