"Tap, tap, tap."
Luo Jing walked through the Imperial Palace, step by step, with Jia Yi beside him. They had come together. Jia Yi suddenly coughed twice, and Luo Jing asked, "Have you been unwell lately, Chancellor?"
Jia Yi spoke in a somewhat hoarse voice. "Once a man grows old, he falls ill easily. I fear my health no longer allows me to serve as Chancellor.
"But Your Majesty is about to wage a great war against the Xiongnu. I cannot retire yet. I must hold on until this war is over, then petition Your Majesty for leave to take these old bones home."
At these words, Luo Jing frowned with a trace of concern and looked up at the clear blue sky. Of everyone still alive in the world, Luo Ling was the most accomplished in military strategy, especially in commanding vast armies. The Battle of Handan, which had destroyed the Qin Dynasty's main forces, had been his and Xiang Yu's masterpiece.
When Luo Jing had previously returned to Zhao City to pay respects to his ancestors, he had asked Luo Ling for his views on the war between Great Han and the Xiongnu. Luo Ling had believed that this was not the right time, because Liu Che had yet to assemble his own circle of officials. Those he currently employed had all been left to him by Emperor Xiaowen.
These men were indeed quite capable, but they were all getting on in years. Jia Yi, for example, had been recommended during Luo Xin's time. He had toiled in mind and body ever since, and had long been approaching the point where his oil would run dry and his lamp go out.
A major campaign could last several months at the shortest, or even several years at the longest.