Since it was agreed, Marquis Dingyuan immediately returned to carefully tell the messenger word for word the reply to Tuomu, also adding: “Tell Tuomu that his royal court, I’ve heard, is not as impregnable as all that. Don’t let his own feet catch fire without realizing it.”
The remaining time naturally couldn’t be idle either. They distributed tasks—those several small county towns that had been stubbornly resisting were all cleaned up. They took time to carefully arrange city defenses again, then began distributing weapons and such, and further compiled lists of the fallen. After this round of busyness, they quickly received a reply from Tuomu’s side.
Perhaps it was truly that human nature was inherently base—Tuomu, who had previously been pretending and wavering uncertainly, gave a definite answer: he agreed to cooperate.
Marquis Dingyuan took the reply and carefully listened to the words of the messenger dispatched from the Tartar side. He smiled contemptuously, led people to see Cui Shaoting, showed both the letter and documents to Cui Shaoting, and asked him: “What do you think—how credible is this?”
When dealing with this type of person who bites precisely at your weak spot when biting, terrified you won’t hurt enough or won’t die, one must be extraordinarily careful. Using however much thought to fathom him was extremely necessary.
Cui Shaoting placed the letter and documents on the table, his fingers tapping on the tabletop several times as if pondering. After a while, he asked the messenger who had followed in: “Your great king has no other conditions this time?”
The messenger understood the implication behind Cui Shaoting’s words. He shook his head several times and earnestly answered Cui Shaoting’s question, also telling him: “What you said is correct—our Tartar royal court is also not stable. The Jurchen to the west eye us covetously, and below, people’s hearts are also not united. You see, when the Grand Preceptor sent out troops, he didn’t communicate much with our great king either…” The messenger was carefully ingratiating, trying his utmost not to anger this Grand Administrator: “Our great king also knows Grand Administrator your temperament—most steadfast in keeping your word, one is one, two is two. Our great king said he indeed has some private interests, but knows which way the wind is blowing now.”
This did sound like something Tuomu, the person most adept at reading which way the wind blew, would say. Cui Shaoting remained noncommittal, waiting until the messenger had begun breaking out in cold sweat before nodding at him: “If that’s the case, then your great king agrees to our conditions?”
The messenger hastily nodded: “Agreed, agreed. Our great king said, as long as you send the Grand Preceptor back to the Tartar royal court, he’ll issue documents summoning Ye Tan back to the royal court.”
This was an extremely insidious scheme. Never mind that the Tartar royal court had disunited hearts, never mind that the Tartar king currently had no real power—in this world, titles and legitimacy by birth naturally held enormous advantages. If even the Tartar king had issued an edict not wanting to fight, and Ye had also been defeated and repatriated, then what would it mean for Ye Tan to keep fighting? His cause would lack legitimacy and justification. Moreover, although Great Zhou’s soldiers were indeed enduring very arduously, the Tartar side was absolutely not relaxed either. The Tartar side originally didn’t have particularly abundant supplies to begin with, and this battle was also far, far more difficult than Ye and Ye Tan had anticipated. The method they’d originally envisioned—sustaining war through plunder—simply hadn’t succeeded, because Cui Shaoting and his group had bitten down far too tightly. That they could persist until now was only because Han Zhengqing had voluntarily withdrawn from Datong, and they had burned, killed, and plundered in Datong to replenish their energy. Later, when Prince Gong and Han Zhengqing successively lost power and were defeated in battle, their situation became extremely difficult and awkward. Eventually they couldn’t plunder much of anything—the common people along the way had all grown clever, fleeing at the first sign while bringing their dry rations and valuables into nearby large cities. What they could scrape together simply wasn’t enough for such a massive army.
And since it wasn’t enough, naturally they had to request from the rear. The Tartar royal court’s supply was also extremely strained, and now the Tartar commoners were also already complaining bitterly.
If Tartar King Tuomu said to stop fighting, yet Ye Tan still insisted on fighting, then Ye Tan would basically be finished. The Tartar army had a tradition of mutiny, you see. Previously they’d naturally obeyed Ye Tan’s older brother’s every word, but now wasn’t Ye being sent back to the royal court? Moreover, they could originally listen to the royal court’s words anyway. The Tartar king had already issued orders—so why should they still follow the illegitimate and unjustified Ye Tan to their deaths?
Back then, Han Zhengqing and Ye had wanted to use precisely this move against Cui Shaoting and his group—thinking to directly kill Emperor Jianzhang and support Prince Gong to ascend the throne. But now, the situation had reversed.
“This is called using a person’s own methods to deal with that person.” Prince Zhennan, hearing this, said nothing, but instead smiled at Marquis Dingyuan: “I finally understand why the Song and Cui families could become in-laws. These two families—not a single one of them isn’t a fox. This move is good—steady, accurate, ruthless.”
Indeed it was steady, accurate, and ruthless. On the very day they received the edict, within the Tartar forces that had already reached beneath Zijing Pass’s walls, an upheaval occurred. At first no one believed the royal court had issued a ceasefire order, but later on, not only did rumors spread rampantly, provisions also ran out, supplies also disappeared, and the Tartar royal court had even personally dispatched an envoy. Although that envoy hadn’t had time to say anything before being secretly executed by Ye Tan, precisely because he hadn’t said anything made people even more suspicious, didn’t it? If there truly was nothing that couldn’t be shown to others, why would Ye Tan be so desperately trying to cover it up?
The Tartar soldiers, who had originally been fighting very arduously, were already physically and mentally exhausted, and simply hadn’t seen the benefits Ye and Ye Tan had promised—they couldn’t hold on anymore. They had originally thought what awaited them ahead were Great Zhou soldiers bleating like lambs waiting to be slaughtered, were endless fine wines and beauties, were blinding gold and jewels. But fighting until now, not a single ghost had appeared. Instead, people kept dying continuously. Just this Zijing Pass alone—if they told those back home, they probably wouldn’t believe it—they’d been attacking for two whole months yet hadn’t even managed to break through this damned Zijing Pass’s gates once.
But Ye Tan still disregarded their wishes, killed the royal court’s envoy, saying there was absolutely no such thing, saying the plan remained unchanged.
The plan remained unchanged?! That very day, the Tartar soldiers who had again been attacked by Zijing Pass’s cannons refused to believe and refused to listen anymore. First some people began to cry, and then more and more people began to cry. When Ye Tan sent people down saying those who wailed would be dealt with by military law, conflict finally erupted.
Ye Tan never dreamed a mutiny would occur in his own army. He understood all too clearly why Tuomu had pulled this move—wasn’t it just fear that his achievements would overshadow the master? He couldn’t possibly fall for his trick, but he hadn’t anticipated that this bunch of stupid donkeys below would actually believe it. Victory was clearly right before their eyes—Zijing Pass was fundamentally already at the end of its strength. Recently they hadn’t had it easy, but Zijing Pass had it even worse. Moreover, Cui Shaoting and their forces were still being restrained by Prince Gong’s remnant forces, completely unable to move. As long as they waited a bit longer, as long as they waited just a little more… He was unwilling! Absolutely unwilling to be blocked at Great Zhou’s doorstep like this. As long as they advanced one more step, just one more step forward, ahead would be vast mountains and broad seas. He could become a hero of the Tartar people, could be recorded in Tartar history.