At Shen Duan's words, Wei Nisheng stopped, turned, and looked at him.
"Your insight is keen, Grand Secretary."
Then he walked back without the slightest pretense, resumed his seat, picked up the cup of tea, and took a shallow sip.
The tea was already lukewarm. He set down the cup and raised his head, lamplight illuminating his austere, handsome features.
"Since Grand Secretary Shen has accepted my teacher's words, I would not dare deceive you.
I did indeed come tonight to ask you to grant me one favor."
"Speak."
"The command of Ningxia remains undecided.
You wish to delay, Grand Secretary Shen. I know you have your own considerations," Wei Nisheng said.
"But I venture to ask you to consider this:
As you delay and delay, whose time are you truly consuming?"
Shen Duan did not answer.
"Peng Ding suffered a defeat, and Imperial Judgment has yet to be delivered."
"What is His Majesty waiting for? Nothing more than a plan from Grand Secretary Shen.
Every day you delay is another day His Majesty spends in doubt!
Doubting Peng Ding, doubting Xu Zhen, doubting thirty years of grain and silver, troop numbers, and beacon towers in the frontier garrisons."
Wei Nisheng's voice was clear and his tone mild, giving nothing away.
"In war, clumsy haste has been known, but clever prolongation has never been seen."
"You know those words from The Art of War better than I do, Grand Secretary Shen.
The Tangut cavalry are watching like tigers ready to pounce, while your plan still lies on your desk for consideration...
This word 'delay' is a blade! But the one it cuts is Grand Secretary Shen himself."
Shen Duan's hand paused slightly around his cup, and he raised his eyes to Wei Zi.
"And consider this, Grand Secretary Shen: once