Rather Let the Armies Mutiny and Be Trapped in Anyang Than Let Their Bones Pave the Road to the Yellow River
Prefect Cui's expression changed.
The shopkeepers also lowered their heads.
Commander Wei sneered.
"Don't even mention grain. If the prince wants to eat the cured meat in your cellar tonight, he can send people to pick it up piece by piece."
But you'd better think it through: do you want to protect the cured meat, or do you want to worry about having another meal?
Prefect Cui placed the teacup back on the table, his voice becoming somber.
"Please wait in the side hall. I will thoroughly investigate the accounts of the Military Supplies Bureau."
"Find out the truth?" Boss Sun wanted to ask further.
Commander Wei placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Boss Sun glanced at the knife and swallowed the rest of his sentence.
The shopkeepers looked at each other and then left the back room one after another.
The last person closed the carved wooden door, and a cold wind sneaked in through the crack, only to be quickly blocked by the thick cotton curtain.
The only sound in the room was the cracking of the fireplace.
Only after the footsteps of Prefect Cui and the others had faded into the distance did they begin to turn over the grain deeds on the table one by one.
" Commander Wei, what's gotten into you today?"
His fingers pressed against the deed for 20,000 shi of millet.
" His Prince An sent a secret order last night through Zhou Huaili, instructing that troops, weapons, and provisions be assembled by the end of the first month."
If you reveal all the hidden shares and military supply accounts in front of these managers, and the news gets back to the Prince's residence, neither of us will escape unscathed.
So what if it gets in?
Commander Wei pulled a sheepskin register from his pocket and slammed it onto the table.
"First, check where the 30,000 soldiers the Prince's Palace requested came from."
Prefect Cui opened the register.
Commander Wei pressed down on one of the pages, his finger hovering over the lines of names.
"Thirty thousand is the number the Prince's Palace reported to the imperial court and various prefectures. The Anyang military corps only has twenty-six thousand soldiers on its register, but four thousand of them are receiving salaries without actually working."
"Of the remaining 22,000 men, over 800 broke their legs last winter when Prince An dragged them out to practice the ' Divine Steed Flying Formation '."
"With the roads blocked by heavy snow, we can't even muster 20,000 men who are truly ready to go into battle."
Prefect Cui's apple bobbed slightly.
"Military registration can be reinstated, and wounded soldiers can remain in the city. As long as Your Highness leaves Anyang, provisions can be obtained from the counties along the way."
"Fundraising?"
Commander Wei patted the stack of grain deeds.
"I went to the wounded soldiers' camp last night. More than eight hundred soldiers with broken legs were crammed into one room, and the charcoal brazier ran out of fuel by midnight."
"The Prince's mansion is now arresting even the grain merchants in the city as thieves. When the guards were robbing grain, the cooks blocked the warehouse door with kitchen knives. If I hadn't arrived with my men, there would have been bloodshed."
He leaned down to look at Prefect Cui, his voice very low.
"If I were to send these people to their deaths on behalf of the prince, that would truly mean their deaths."
The soldiers' families are all in the city. Today they're eating thin porridge, tomorrow they might be wielding knives against the quartermaster. Prince An is leading a group of starving soldiers to attack the capital; instead of purging the court of corrupt officials, he's sending 30,000 lives into the Yellow River.
Prefect Cui remained silent.
He was a protégé of Ministry of Personnel Lord Lü, and Prince An's Consort was a daughter of the Lü Family.
The Lü Family sent him to Anyang so that he could guard the westward route for Prince An.
Based on this relationship, he was already in cahoots with Prince An.
What Prince An has done in the past two weeks no longer seems like taking a risk.
A few days ago, Prince An took a red pill given to him by an unknown sorcerer and started tearing at women's clothes in the street during the day.
Now, he has suddenly ordered the city to be sealed off and its grain confiscated.
The old steward of the manor said that Prince An would not sleep at night, his hands would tremble so much that he could not even hold a wine cup steadily, and he would have to swallow a red pill every day.
When the drug took effect, he hugged a map of the capital and proclaimed himself the chosen one.
The thought of the capital made Prefect Cui's fingertips grow cold.
The emperor was ill, but Chancellor Su and Grand Commandant Lin were still there, and the Imperial Guard outside the Hall of Supreme Ultimate had not been withdrawn.
If Prince An were to lead these starving soldiers across the river, he would not be met with an imperial edict to defend the emperor, but rather with charges of treason.
"What does Commandant Yi mean?"
Prefect Cui picked up the cold tea and took a sip; the astringent taste pressed down from the back of his tongue to his throat.
"If the prince needs soldiers, we'll give him soldiers. If the prince needs provisions, we'll give him provisions."
Commander Wei sat down again and unbuttoned the iron buttons on his collar.
"But the speed of troop deployment is another matter."
How so?
"Heavy snow has blocked the mountain passes, making the roads difficult to travel. Even if we walk twenty li a day, it will take at least two months to reach the Yellow River."
Commander Wei took out a black iron key from his waist and placed it on the table.
"There are two keys to the armory. One is in my possession, and the other is with the quartermaster. Last night, the quartermaster took the ledgers and hid in the medical camp; the royal guards haven't found him yet."
"I had half of the iron gate outside the armory melted down. We told everyone the mechanism was cracked from dampness and was under repair. Without two keys, a complete inventory of the armory, and the Military Supplies Bureau's transfer stamp, no one can take what's inside."
Prefect Cui stared at the key, his heart tightening.
How much is inside?
"Twenty thousand suits of heavy armor and three thousand crossbows."
Commander Wei raised his eyes.
" Prince An can only issue orders to the camp, not directly allocate weapons from the armory. Unless I sign off on it, he can only set off with light armor and broken swords."
You can hold them off for a while, but not forever.
"I know."
Commander Wei's voice calmed down.
"At most half a month. In that time, the city will be in chaos, and the Prince's Palace will be busy investigating who is disobedient. As long as Prince An's personal guards clash with the Northern Camp first, this army won't be able to leave Anyang within ten miles."
Prefect Cui raised his head, his face pale.
"You want to incite a mutiny in the military?"
I want them to live.
Commander Wei stood up and adjusted his wrist guards.
"Don't make this sound too good to be true. If it really comes to that, whoever drops their knife first will be the rebel."
"But if I don't use this fire to block the Prince's mansion, the bones of 30,000 people will pile up along the Yellow River."
Thousands of miles away, in the Tubo Silver City.
The dungeon is hidden in a black rock cave at the foot of the snow-capped mountain.
Water droplets seeping from the rock wall fell into the brazier, turning the red-hot charcoal white and making a soft crackling sound.
The smells of mutton, sulfur, and burnt herbs mingled together, pressing heavily into the stone chamber.
Yang Tie was wearing a tattered sheepskin coat covered in mud and water, and sat cross-legged on a straw mat.
He had several scabbed scratches on his face, his hair was matted in clumps, and the wound on his shoulder had been treated.
The iron gate was kicked open.
A cold wind swept in, carrying snowflakes into the dungeon, and sparks from the brazier scattered.
Chisang, the leader of Silver City, stepped across the threshold.
He was wearing a heavy snow leopard fur cloak, and a golden-handled scimitar hung at his waist.
Several rubies were embedded in the scabbard, making a dull thud as they struck the armor plates with his footsteps.
Four Tubo guards followed behind him, each tall and imposing, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.
"The alchemists of the Great Yan."
Chisang had spent a few years in the Central Plains and spoke fluent Mandarin, but his tone was rough and heavy, sounding like stones rubbing against each other.
" Lalong said that you escaped from Yi Prefecture, claiming to be able to cure all diseases, and that you also carried with you an elixir that could greatly increase one's strength."
He stopped in front of Yang Tie.
"The shaman examined the pills found on you: cinnabar, datura, and some unidentifiable poisonous mud. You dare call this a magic elixir?"
Yang Tie looked up at him but did not answer.
Chisang drew his curved sword and pressed the tip against his throat.
I'll give you three chances to say something.