Chen Yi spent two hours finishing the policy question, and he knew Ma Shuhan was doomed beyond doubt.
Whether His Majesty intended to raise an army or not, the moment such a question appeared, it would surely cause an uproar among the scholars.
The Great Wei Dynasty had enjoyed Heaven's favor for two hundred years, and its campaigns beyond its borders had been few and far between.
Those worth praising could be counted on both hands.
One was Elder Master Xiao personally leading a great army to trample Poshushuo Kingdom beneath its hooves; another was the western expedition against Loulan fifty years ago; the third was a century ago, when the Northern Expedition slaughtered the Rong Tribe, then the largest tribe upon the grasslands.
Beyond these, all were merely small-scale affairs.
Such as suppressing the Guangyue Prefecture rebellion and launching eastern campaigns against the Japanese pirates—though victorious, they received scant mention in the history books.
And now, the realm had only just been stable for several decades.
At least, the prefectures beyond Shuzhou had been stable for several decades.
If the Imperial Court wished to move its armies on a grand scale, how could it avoid shaking the whole realm?
Some would support it, some would denounce it, and some would roll up their sleeves, eager to make a great show of it. There was no shortage of reactions.
Once the matter caused such a stir, what fate awaited Ma Shuhan, the one who had started it all?
It was plain to imagine.
Yet Chen Yi's thoughts were no longer on Ma Shuhan, but on the person directing him from behind the curtain.
Shuzhou had only just been pacified, and the general tide of the realm was turning northward.
That person had surely seen this as well, which was why