To be honest, Li Jingxuan felt considerably reassured.
He had originally thought Wang Yang would become the Prince of Badong's most trusted man, soaring straight into the clouds, second only to the prince himself. But now it seemed that was not the case.
By rights, this was exactly what he had hoped for. Yet somehow, hearing those words brought him little pleasure. If anything, they left him feeling stifled.
Perhaps a ruler's suspicion of his subjects made him grieve for one of his own kind?
Or perhaps he felt the Prince of Badong lacked the breadth of spirit to be a heroic sovereign.
Perhaps it was simply instinctive regret. Regret that Wang Yang possessed such great talent yet would never be allowed to put it to great use. He might even still be lost in a dream of "wind and clouds meeting," imagining that one day he could fulfill his ambitions like Marquis Zhuge Liang, unaware that it could never come true.
To use his strategies without granting him authority, employ his talents while fettering his influence-even someone capable of ordering heaven and earth could only stand to one side and offer advice. That was no different from shelving him away on a high shelf. Li Jingxuan's earlier words had truly hit the mark.
Regret was one thing. What needed saying still had to be said.
"Though Your Highness is wary of Wang Yang, the crux of his plan has nothing whatsoever to do with whether our troops are concentrated or dispersed!"
The Prince of Badong's curiosity stirred.
"Then what does it concern?"
"May I ask Your Highness, in our present circumstances, what matters most?"
"The gentry, naturally," the Prince of Badong replied.
"Your subject believes otherwise.
Winning a realm rests on blades and soldiers, not anything else.
Now that