The cold winter wind was blowing heavy snow, and only the top of the vermilion palace wall outside the Daiming Mansion of the Land of Fire was exposed on the snow.
Rows of ice ridges hang down from the glazed tiles, the cold air penetrates through the cracks in the bricks, and the armor of the gatekeepers is also covered with a layer of white frost.
The ground dragon in the hall was fully burned, the stone bricks were so warm, and the smell of incense and wine hung in the air. After staying there for a long time, people were too lazy to move their bones.
Daimyō sank into the soft couch covered with snow fox fur, with the smell of alcohol on his face, and turned the white jade cup with his stubby fingers.
In the center of the hall, more than ten dancers danced on silk and bamboo, their gauze clinging to their waists, and sweat dripping from their foreheads.
"Okay, if you twist your waist to be smart, you'll be rewarded."
Daimyō smiled until there were only two slits left in his eyes. He grabbed the gold coins in the brocade box and threw them on the carpet. The money rolled through the thick velvet and made a muffled sound one after another.
The dancer bowed to the ground to thank her, and before her laughter had dissipated, the butler had already arrived at the soft couch with an engraved silver wine flask in his hand.
He bowed his waist and poured a full cup of wine, his eyes circled Daimyō's face several times, and waited until the music in the hall stopped for a while before handing the words out.
"Sir Daimyō, the special envoy has been to Konoha for several days. Will the order to cut military expenditures by 30% make Minato Namikaze dissatisfied?"
Daimyō didn't look back, still looking at the direction the dancer left. After the wine glass was filled again, he sneered.
The white jade cup was brought to his lips, and the red wine was drained in one gulp. The gold-inlaid folding fan fell on the red sandalwood table and made two soft sounds.
"So what if you are dissatisfied? They use Daimyō Mansion money to do things. Give them less, just so they can recognize their identity."
The soft couch sank downwards with his body, and Daimyō leaned deeper, beating the folding fan back and forth in his palms.
"Konoha has no cash and food, and now the mountains are closed due to heavy snow. How can they feed the ninjas? Minato Namikaze will crawl into this temple sooner or later to ask for money."
The butler held the wine flask, sweat quickly broke out on his forehead, and he glanced towards the palace door with his peripheral vision.
"But Konoha holds Land of Fire's strongest force, just in case they refuse to bow."
"Stupid."
The folding fan stopped in front of the housekeeper's forehead. The alcohol smell on Daimyō's face dissipated a little, and his voice became darker.
"There is a difference between king and minister. If they dare to cross this line, Daimyō Mansion will make them unable to even eat."
The white jade cup fell on the table, the cup wall cracked into several pieces, and the jade fragments rolled to the edge of the butler's shoes.
"Do you understand?"
The butler's knees weakened and he lowered his head and retreated into the shadows at the side of the palace, not daring to say another word.
Daimyō shook off his cuffs and raised his hand to point to the center of the hall.
"Then play music, then dance."
The music of silk and bamboo sounded again, the ministers raised their wine glasses, and their flattering words swirled around the hall along with the smell of wine.
"Daimyō is wise, those ninjas will not be able to survive without Daimyō Mansion."
"Konoha dare not complain at all, sir, please feel free to worry."
The cups and cups were clinking together more and more closely, and the heavy palace door blocked the wind and snow outside. No one in the palace took Konoha seriously.
The drunkenness was getting stronger when the sound of rapid footsteps came from outside the palace. The guard's shout only lasted half a sentence before the copper-clad palace door was knocked open.
The cold wind blew snowflakes into the palace, the palace lanterns swayed back and forth, and the dancers shrieked and retreated to both sides.
A man in a gray-brown torn cotton-padded jacket fell through the door, his face covered in mud, and his frozen purple hands pressed against the carpet, leaving a few wet marks.
He crawled forward a few steps, exhausted all his strength, and threw himself on the expensive Land of Wind handmade velvet rug.
The music stopped.
Daimyō sat upright on the soft couch and looked down at the embarrassed figure on the ground. It took him a while to recognize him.
A few days ago, this man was wearing official uniform and was on a mission Konoha.
At this moment, his eyebrows were covered with ice, his face was covered with mud, and the original color of his clothes could not be seen.
"You look like this, you don't have the decency of the Daimyō Mansion's special envoy."
Daimyō stood up and walked off the soft couch, holding the folding fan against the special envoy's forehead.
"Has the military spending reduction order been delivered? What was Minato Namikaze's face when he received the order?"
The special envoy was lying on the carpet, his shoulders were shaking, and he didn't even have the strength to raise his hand to wipe the ice water from his eyelashes.
He raised his neck and hit his forehead on the carpet, and a dull sound reached everyone's ears.
"Sir, the military spending reduction order has not been sent out."
Daimyō The flesh on his face twitched. The ministers were holding wine glasses, but no one answered.
The special envoy swallowed, his lips were dry and cracked, and he was gasping for air.
"Konoha no longer relies on the Daimyō Mansion's military expenditures."
The smell of alcohol in the hall had dissipated a lot. Several officials looked at each other and did not dare to touch the cups in their hands.
Daimyō leaned over and looked at him, hearing the absurdity at first, and then being filled with anger.
"What nonsense are you talking about? They don't need money when the mountains are blocked by heavy snow. How can they buy charcoal and grain?"
The special envoy grabbed the carpet tassel with his five fingers, tears mixed with muddy water slid down his face, and his voice was hoarse from shouting.
"Sir, Konoha is covered with Geothermal Pipelines underground. The house in the cold winter is as warm as spring. They don't even need to burn a pound of charcoal."
Having said this, his lips trembled twice, and the cold popsicle on the street came to mind again.
"Civilians on the street eat popsicles wearing single clothes, and the price of food and meat is still 30% lower than Daimyō Mansion Capital City."
Several wine glasses slipped down one after another, and the expensive wine flowed away along the carpet texture.
An official couldn't help but stepped forward, and his voice had changed.
"In the middle of winter, when the mountains are covered with heavy snow, where does Konoha get food and meat? Could it be that the special envoy has been hit by Sharingan Genjutsu?"
Daimyō walked around the desk, walked up to the special envoy, grabbed the moldy gray cotton-padded jacket, and lifted him half a foot off the ground.
"You went to Konoha and you came back with such nonsense to fool me Daimyō?"
The special envoy took out a soaked paper book from his personal clothes and raised his hands above his head.
The paper album was wrinkled by snow and sweat, and the cover had fallen off.
The inner page records the grain and meat prices of Konoha, and also draws the direction of Geothermal Pipelines. Next to it is the situation of Northern Suburbs farmland.
"Sir, these are all things this slave has seen with his own eyes."
Daimyō took the paper book, and the wet paper stuck to his palm. He shook his hands twice in disgust, but his eyes stopped on the crooked handwriting.
The special envoy knelt back on the carpet, and when he raised his head, his eyes were filled with fear.
"Konoha Northern Suburbs There are hundreds of acres more of glass houses, which are full of crops. The heat rises from the fields. Amaterasu sows and harvests the same in winter."
He stopped to take a breath, his chest rising and falling violently.
"According to the growth conditions there, Konoha can harvest three or even four seasons a year, and the granary can be filled in half a year."
The special envoy raised his head again, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and muddy water dripped along his chin and onto his clothes.
"Once their surplus grain is sold to various places, Land of Fire's grain prices will be manipulated by Konoha, and Daimyō Mansion will no longer be able to hold them back."
There was only the soft sound of the earth dragon in the hall, and the clothes on the butler's back were soaked with sweat.
Geothermal energy saves fuel, winter fields replenish food, and coupled with the rumored mining profits, Daimyō Mansion's most important military expenditure has lost its weight.
In the past, as long as you held the money bag, Daimyō could hold Konoha's hands and feet.
At this moment, this certainty was so absurd that he couldn't face it.
Daimyō took two steps back, his knees hit the edge of the soft couch, and the wet paper slipped from his palm and stuck to the carpet.
All the officials in the palace lowered their heads, and even those who were usually the best at flattering kept their mouths shut.
"Find a way."
Daimyō supported the table, his palms were sore from the wood carvings.
"Let me find a way. We can't let Konoha continue to develop like this."
The ministers still lowered their heads. Some people quietly moved half a step away. After noticing the eyes of others, they returned to their original positions.
Cutting off food has no effect, cutting off money is useless, and the military force of the government soldiers is not enough Konoha Ninja.
Daimyō's Adam's apple rolled twice, and the aristocratic sense of superiority gradually sank from his chest, and even breathing became laborious.
"Daimyō Mansion is the master, why do they dare to break away from control!"
The fear has not yet dissipated, and the anger has already rushed to the top of his head.
He grabbed the chiseled silver wine flask on the desk and raised his hand to smash it against the stone bricks.
The silver pot was dented and the wine splashed onto the official's clothes. No one in the palace dared to hide.
"Trash, they are all a bunch of trash!"
He picked up the half-human-high Land of Tea painted porcelain vase and smashed it against the red painted pillar in the palace.
Porcelain pieces were scattered all over the floor, and the envoy lay on the thick velvet blanket, sobbing intermittently among the broken porcelain.