When one bows in courtesy before another, one is surely asking something of them.
Luoyi treated Ye Zhen as it would a powerful minister, while Tong Dehai, the Grand Supervisor of the Inner Palace who had once held Great Zhou in the palm of his hand, did not even dare sit too long before Ye Zhen. The reason was simple: Tong Dehai had come with a mission.
Whether it was the title of Duke of the State, the generous ennoblement of the generals under Ye Zhen's command, or his marriage to Princess Changle—allowing Ye Zhen to decide the wedding date and location, even appointing the former Grand Priest Bai Xiang, who was exceptionally close to Ye Zhen, as the marriage envoy—all of it was, in truth, Luoyi's bargaining chips.
Bargaining chips for a political deal with Ye Zhen.
Of course, such a political deal would not be declared openly. It was raised by Tong Dehai, the Grand Supervisor of the Inner Palace, as though in passing.
"Duke Ye, His Majesty has been so generous because His Majesty and the gentlemen of the court have placed great hopes upon you."
"Oh? Great hopes?" Ye Zhen understood that these were Luoyi's terms. A trace of amusement appeared at the corner of his lips again. "I only fear that His Majesty and the gentlemen's hopes may be too heavy for Ye to bear."
"How could that be? Absolutely not." Tong Dehai gave an awkward laugh and hurriedly said, "His Majesty and the gentlemen of the court hope that Duke Ye will firmly defend Great Zhou's seas and territory, crush the Devil Race in the east, crush the Water Clan in the north, ensure the long-term peace and security of Great Zhou's northeastern coast, and stabilize the northeastern interior regions that concern Great Zhou's