"Minister Han, you are mistaken," Wan Qixie said expressionlessly. "When national interests are involved, how can they be constrained so simply by the word 'etiquette'? Have you forgotten Duke Xiang of Song's cautionary example, Minister Han?"
Hearing the veiled jab at his pedantry, Han Tuozhou was secretly enraged. "From the Left Chancellor's tone, you seem certain that the Mongol Empire will return Sichuan. If something goes wrong, can the Left Chancellor take responsibility?"
Wan Qixie chuckled. "Those grassland barbarians have always been crafty and cunning. Even if they truly refuse to return Sichuan, it will only be because Minister Han failed to see through their scheme and fell for it. What does that have to do with me?"
Having spent decades in officialdom, he had long become incomparably slick. He knew that the greatest principle in government was not to seek merit, but merely to avoid fault. History had proven that those hot-blooded fools who made impassioned declarations and shouldered responsibility before matters were settled never came to a good end. Why would he foolishly promise to take responsibility for this?
"You!" Han Tuozhou was nearly angered to death by the man's shamelessness. The people under him were all furious as well, but because of their status, it was inconvenient for them to openly curse him.
"Minister Han, there is no need to be so nervous." Unmoved by everyone's murderous stares, Wan Qixie continued, "Even if Sichuan cannot be recovered, it does not matter. During this trip to Yangzhou, I have already successfully persuaded Minister Li. He has agreed to lead the Jianghuai region in submitting to Great Song. Gaining Jianghuai is no worse than recovering Sichuan. Furthermore, there will be no need to pay tribute to the Mongol Empire or provide provisions for the Golden Snake Camp. Ah, Minister