Free Web NovelXu Qing's voice wasn't loud, but every word was crisp and clear, like a heavy hammer striking the hearts of everyone in the hall, one blow after another.
Each time he read out a line, he flipped a page of the archives. The rustling sound of the pages turning, in the silent great hall, actually seemed somewhat piercing.
"In the spring of the twenty-second year of Yongtai, Dingxiang City..."
"In the summer of the twenty-third year of Yongtai, the Battle of Blackwater River..."
"..."
One shocking battle report after another, strings of blood-soaked numbers, were recited from Xu Qing's mouth.
The expressions of the Northern Barbarian delegation gradually turned ugly. The Northern Barbarian Chancellor, in particular, had his composure completely shattered.
This list was far too detailed.
When Xu Qing reached "In the twenty-fourth year of Yongtai, refugees fleeing the three northern prefectures due to the war totaled three hundred and seventy thousand households, over one million two hundred thousand people," he finally stopped.
He closed the archives, raised his head, and once again looked at the ashen-faced Northern Barbarian Chancellor.
"Lord Chancellor, do you still think that having your dynasty return the three cities is not caring for the people and would cause them to be displaced and homeless?"
"That... that's a battlefield!"
Before the Northern Barbarian Chancellor could respond, the hot-tempered Deputy Envoy beneath him, Grand Marshal Batu, suddenly slammed the table and stood up.
"On the battlefield, swords and blades have no eyes, how can there not be casualties?" Batu glared with eyes as round as bronze bells, his voice like a great bell, trying to overwhelm everything with sheer momentum. "Do you think your Great Xing's army has killed few people?!"
His roar was filled with brutish logic.
Yet, Xu Qing remained unmoved.
Just then.
On the imperial throne, the Great Xing Emperor, who had remained silent all along, suddenly let out a light cough.
"Cough."
The sound wasn't loud, even a little weak.
But he didn't speak.
At the same time, the Emperor's gaze swept, as if by chance, toward Su Ming on the side seat. The look seemed to be confirming something, or silently transmitting some kind of message.
That roaring Marshal Batu, upon hearing the Emperor's cough, had his arrogance immediately deflated by half. He might not fear a Minister of Revenue, but he absolutely wouldn't dare to ignore this earthly sovereign who held the power of life and death over the entire world.
He sat back down resentfully, muttering something under his breath.
Inside the great hall, the suffocating silence returned.
Everyone's gaze refocused on Xu Qing.
Xu Qing stood up. He no longer looked at the archives but walked to the center of the hall, his eyes meeting the Northern Barbarian Chancellor's directly.
"His Majesty's meaning is very simple."
Xu Qing's voice turned cold and hard, every word seeming to be chiseled out of ice.
"First: The three cities of Northwind, Cloud Center, and Dingxiang must be unconditionally returned. The government treasuries, grain and money, weapons and equipment within the cities—not a single needle or thread may be touched."
"Second: The four years of war have caused our Great Xing immense losses, all of which must be compensated."
Xu Qing raised three fingers.
"I've already calculated this account for you, Lord Chancellor. Soldier's pensions, resettlement of the people, city reconstruction... all things considered, not a bit more, not a bit less."
Xu Qing paused, then spat out a number that made every member of the Northern Barbarian delegation gasp.
"One million five hundred thousand taels of silver. To be paid over ten years, fifteen thousand taels annually."
"What?!"
The Northern Barbarian Chancellor's composure shattered completely at this moment. He stood up abruptly, his voice distorted with agitation.
"One million five hundred thousand taels?! Minister Xu, why doesn't your Great Xing... just go rob someone!"
This number, for the Northern Barbarian, whose national strength was already inferior to Great Xing's and who had just endured four years of brutal war, was nothing less than bleeding them dry!
Xu Qing stared coldly at him, saying nothing.
The atmosphere in the hall tightened to the breaking point.
At this tense, sword-drawn moment.
On the side seat, Elder Qingquan, who had kept his eyes closed as if asleep the entire time, slowly opened his eyes.
Elder Qingquan's movement was very slow.
He simply opened his eyes and cast a plain, calm glance at the red-faced, almost manic Northern Barbarian Chancellor.
He released no earth-shattering pressure, and his voice wasn't even loud, like an elder reminding a noisy junior in his own backyard.
"This old man will only say three things."
Elder Qingquan's voice carried a special, elderly hoarseness, yet it entered the ears of everyone in the hall with perfect clarity.
"First: Your Northern Barbarian's so-called National Teacher, the one who could summon the wind and rain and turn beans into soldiers, is a fake."
As these words fell, the Northern Barbarian Chancellor's pupils contracted sharply, and most of the color drained from his face.
"Second," Elder Qingquan's voice didn't pause at all, "that vaunted, 'arrow-proof' Undying Iron Cavalry of yours was forged from the souls of your own Northern Barbarian soldiers, using evil cultivation methods. Their souls are scattered to the winds, without even a chance for reincarnation."
"Boom—"
This sentence struck the heads of every Northern Barbarian delegate like a thunderbolt from the nine heavens!
The hot-tempered Marshal Batu, in particular, seemed struck by lightning, frozen stiff in his seat, his face pale as paper, his lips trembling violently, unable to utter a single word. His most elite cavalry... was forged from the souls of his own brothers-in-arms?!
This realization was more devastating to a soldier's will than defeat itself.
"Third."
Elder Qingquan picked up the cup of long-cold tea on the table, took a light sip, as if speaking of an insignificant matter.
"That evil cultivator who refined those things has already been cleaned up by our Cloud Hidden Sect. I went to your Northern Barbarian court a few days ago to have some tea and had a chat with your Great Khan."
He set down the teacup, his gaze falling back on the Northern Barbarian Chancellor's face, his tone flat but carrying an air of finality that brooked no argument.
"This war, from the very beginning, your Northern Barbarian was being played like a fiddle by a jumping clown. Continuing to entangle will benefit no one."
"I've said my piece. You all, weigh it yourselves."
With that, Elder Qingquan closed his eyes again, as if those words had exhausted all his energy, and "fell asleep" once more.
Within the hall, a deathly silence fell.
The Northern Barbarian Chancellor stood there in a daze, his entire body cold, as if plunged into an ice cave.
He wasn't a fool. He knew that a Golden Core elder of the Cloud Hidden Sect would never joke about such things in this setting.
The National Teacher was a fake...
The Iron Cavalry was refined from the souls of brothers...
It was all a hoax...
This old man, who had navigated the Northern Barbarian bureaucracy for over fifty years, felt the world spin around him. The national war he had painstakingly supported for four years, the belief he had held of expanding the Northern Barbarian's territory—in this moment, it all came crashing down.
It turned out they were just a group of pitiful pawns being used by others.
For a long, long time.
The Northern Barbarian Chancellor seemed to have aged ten years in an instant. He slowly, dejectedly, sat back down, his entire spirit drained completely.
He raised his head and looked at the Great Xing Emperor on the throne with a pleading gaze.
Then, with great difficulty, he lowered that proud head of his, which had been held high for a lifetime.
"My dynasty... agrees."
