HPDBC Chapter 609: The Strategist
Chapter 609: The Strategist
Chapter 609: The Strategist
Initially, when Tang Buqi forcibly dismissed them and stripped them of their commands, the generals harbored considerable resentment. The other officials in Jiangnan were even more displeased.
Those who did not support Tang Buqi’s ambitions for secession thought that he was finally making his move and considered ways to sabotage him.
Those who did support him thought of him a fool. After all, they were backing him, yet he was taking away their authority.
Some of those summoned to report to Zhao Changhe did not even know who he was. Their hearts simmered with discontent.
Who do you think you are? Just because the Tome of Troubled Times praised you a few times, you think you’re some king?
But once they witnessed Zhao Changhe astride his flying steed, all grievances vanished. They were left with a single thought: Whatever this man says, goes. In Jiangnan, all private ambitions and schemes were silenced.
When people encounter strength beyond comprehension, it evokes a primal reverence within them. Once, only one person wielded such overwhelming, irrational power—Xia Longyuan.
But Xia Longyuan’s aura of invincibility had long crumbled. Ever since the Tome of Troubled Times reported his pyrrhic victories—or defeats, public sentiment toward him grew even worse. And just at that moment, Zhao Changhe rose like a blazing sun.
Only Zhao Changhe himself knew that his actual strength could not even touch Xia Longyuan’s heels. But appearances were everything.
As they left Gusu and sailed north across the river, Zhao Changhe refrained from further displays of power, quietly leading Snow-Treading Crow onto the boat. After all, he could not leave his companions behind while basking in glory. He glanced southward toward the receding lands of Jiangnan. The once-intense royal qi over Jinling was already fading, a mere shadow of what it had been hours ago.
It was proof that the flow of energy—qi—could indeed be altered. With deeper cultivation, it could perhaps even be wielded directly.
“Your Highness,” Wu Weiyang, standing cautiously beside him, spoke up. “The Marquis of Wu himself isn’t entirely ready to rebel yet... Though he has thoughts of secession, without the support of the bureau chief, his hands are tied. The current situation isn’t entirely his doing. Others are pushing for greater ambitions. How can he simply bow his head and play the obedient child? How would the heroes of Jiangnan perceive him then? Could he still lead them?”
Zhao Changhe nodded. “That’s understandable... Do you feel the same way?”
Wu Weiyang hesitated before answering, “I won’t lie to you, Your Highness. I’m torn. On the one hand, I respect the bureau chief’s resolve and would willingly lay down my life for her. On the other... I wonder what in this dynasty is still worth preserving.” His voice grew earnest. “The allure of becoming a founding general, of securing noble status for generations, is hard to resist. We live but one life—what else is there to strive for? And in these times, who’s to say history will brand us as traitors? Even that last shred of concern for posterity is gone. Your Highness, I consider myself loyal. If even I waver, how could others not?”
Zhao Changhe sighed deeply. It was true. This was true even in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms—did history label the generals of the Kingdom of Wu, men like Zhou Yu or Lu Su, as traitors? Of course not. They became legendary figures, celebrated through the ages. When even the concern for legacy was gone, any lingering loyalty was simply habit.
Zhao Changhe was indeed not entirely sure about this. Gui Chen had once looked down on the Wang Clan and made a pact with him, but if the rewards exceeded expectations, who could say for certain where his loyalties would lie?
Yet Gui Chen was a Daoist adept skilled in talismans, and observing qi was practically a required skill. Even Zhao Changhe could tell that Langya lacked the presence of dragon qi—it was below even Jiangnan in this respect. Could Gui Chen not see the same?
A wise man follows the prevailing tide.
Another telling clue was that the so-called expulsion of the Demon Suppression Bureau and the failure of Cui Clan assassins had left no casualties. No one had actually died.
“I can’t be completely certain,” Zhao Changhe admitted. “You’re a seasoned operative of the Demon Suppression Bureau. Trust your instincts. If things seem off, withdraw immediately. There’s definitely risk involved, but the rewards are all the more valuable. Are you afraid?”
Faced with the danger, a long-forgotten surge of heroism welled up in Wu Weiyang’s chest. He laughed heartily. “This is what the Demon Suppression Bureau exists for! If Your Highness trusts me, then I’ll return to the jianghu once more.”
Zhao Changhe patted him on the shoulder, his voice low. “That noble legacy you seek may not be found solely in Jiangnan.”
Wu Weiyang’s eyes gleamed with understanding. The same spark ignited in the eyes of the other silent warriors nearby.
Jiangnan, after all, was only suited for regional rule. Since time immemorial, trying to unify the north and the south was as difficult as reaching the heavens. No one truly believed the Tang Clan could unite the world.
But if it was the man before them making that promise... then there truly was a chance.
As they spoke, the boat docked on the northern shore.
Wu Weiyang and the other three leaped onto the riverbank, their figures vanishing in swift, graceful movements. Zhao Changhe, Lady Three, and Xia Chichi stood at the bow of the boat, watching their retreating forms. The energy in their strides seemed transformed, imbued with new purpose.
Xia Chichi glanced at Zhao Changhe, her eyes narrowing slightly. After a long pause, she muttered, “Boss Zhao, if you’d had this kind of cunning, foresight, and power to inspire back in the mountain stronghold, you might have already founded a kingdom at Beimang.”
Zhao Changhe smiled, ruffling her hair gently. “But they’re doing it for you.”
Xia Chichi turned to look at him, her eyes swirling with unreadable emotions.