“Your Majesty is formidable!” This was said with genuine sincerity.

Feng Miaojun leaned lazily against the tree trunk, but Fu Lingchuan said, “The thrill of the hunt is irresistible. Let me play the next round.”

Hu Yan Long certainly didn’t want to give up his seat to him. After all, it was this man who had been sitting at the side creating such pressure that he had lost so miserably. However, when the State Preceptor spoke, he had no qualification to refuse, so he had to stand and yield his place.

Fu Lingchuan sat in the position Hu Yan Long had just vacated and took out the white pieces: “Changle, you go first.”

“No, this time it’s your turn, Elder Cousin,” Feng Miaojun said slowly. “You have always yielded to me. Now, it’s your turn to take the initiative.”

Her words carried deeper meaning, and this time, she didn’t refer to herself as “We.” Fu Lingchuan raised his eyes to look at her, his gaze flickering.

Was she making a double entendre?

Fu Lingchuan stopped refusing and moved the black stone bowl to the side: “Very well, I’ll go first.”

This game of chess became protracted, and by mid-game, both sides spent a long time contemplating each move.

Hu Yan Long sat idly for two hours, truly unable to endure any longer, and had to excuse himself and leave.

After he left, Fu Lingchuan said to Feng Miaojun: “I have reliable intelligence that the Hu Yan family is colluding with Yan Kingdom, aiming to replace me, regain control over Changle and New Xia, and serve Yan Kingdom.”

Feng Miaojun’s willow-like eyebrows slightly furrowed, then she gave a cold laugh: “Only if they have such capability!”

Her eyes flickered: “Does the State Preceptor have evidence of Hu Yan’s collusion with Yan?” Such evidence isn’t easy to find. Both Yan Kingdom and the Hu Yan family would be extremely cautious when meeting secretly. After all, as a local power in New Xia, the Hu Yan family frequently liaising with foreign leaders behind the royal court’s back could be considered treasonous from a certain perspective, equivalent to plotting rebellion.

“Direct evidence? Naturally, there is none.” Fu Lingchuan placed a stone at the central star point. “But a military officer at Jumping Tiger Pass in the southwest saw Zhao Yun’s group passing through the checkpoint heading northwest, disguised as merchants; half a month later, the Hu Yan family received mysterious guests on four separate occasions, each time meeting in a private chamber for discussions before leaving with their faces covered.”

Feng Miaojun thought for a moment and said impartially: “Even if they truly met in private, it doesn’t prove the Hu Yan family wants to overthrow you.”

“This was shortly after the royal court issued the military reduction order.” Fu Lingchuan snorted. “According to regulations, troops demobilized across regions should return to their hometowns to farm and work; but I received reports that personnel cut from Hu Yan’s army weren’t sent back to their original homes. Instead, there are numerous extra positions in various patrols, border guards, and even local militias under his jurisdiction, although no one was ever dispatched to these places—just empty names on the roster.”

Feng Miaojun uttered an “Oh”: “Ghost soldiers drawing ghost salaries.”

“Furthermore, in Hu Yan’s territories, several inconspicuous counties have been fortified into military towns, with traces of frequent troop movements along several routes.” Fu Lingchuan summarized, “In other words, they have quietly reincorporated the demobilized military personnel back into their private army, moving them from open view into the shadows, making their forces even stronger. This portion of the private army is not bound by royal court restrictions and only obeys the Hu Yan family’s orders.”

He laughed coldly: “To my knowledge, many local aristocratic families emulate the Hu Yan family, but their private army expansions are limited, with at most seven or eight thousand men, which is already significant. None are as brazen as him, actually maintaining a private army of fifty thousand!”

Feng Miaojun certainly understood the implications: “Supporting fifty thousand troops alone is not something a local aristocratic family can bear, even if the Hu Yan family’s territory is large and resources abundant.” After New Xia’s establishment, the royal court allocated military funds each season, so regional armies mainly relied on central support, with local aristocratic families bearing only a small portion.

An army of tens of thousands—the food, clothing, armor, and weapons for these robust men, plus regular training exercises—was a bottomless pit; no matter how much money was thrown in, it would disappear without a trace.

If the burden wasn’t so heavy, why would Feng Miaojun and Fu Lingchuan advocate for military reductions? It was to lighten the load on the royal court and the common people.

“I calculated their accounts long ago.” Fu Lingchuan made a gesture with his hand. “If the Hu Yan family had to support them alone, they could at most maintain a private army of twenty-seven thousand men, which would nearly bankrupt the provincial and county finances, and they could sustain it for at most one year. Beyond this number—” he shook his head, “Yet now, he maintains an army of fifty thousand and still appears to have reserves. Where do you think his money comes from?”

Feng Miaojun seemed lost in thought.

After just over a year of New Xia’s establishment, both central and local governments were destitute. Central finances were better off, with several major income sources, so they didn’t need to worry about funds temporarily. Local regions were different—granaries were empty, resources scarce, and they depended on central allocations to develop public works. Otherwise, why would local aristocratic families obediently report to Wusel after the military reduction order?

So the Hu Yan family’s behavior was completely abnormal. Without someone backing them, Hu Yan Bei wouldn’t dare act this way.

“Another thing,” he recalled, “Red Zha Kingdom in the northwest borders New Xia and has always traded with our people. I discovered that since this summer, their grain imports to New Xia have increased more than twofold, but these don’t appear in the customs records.”

“Changle, where do you think all this grain is going?”

Feng Miaojun pressed her lips together: “You came to White Horse Lake today just to tell me these things?”

“The Hu Yan family is plotting rebellion, and you are their target.” Fu Lingchuan said gravely, “If Hu Yan Bei succeeds, you can forget about choosing your marriage partner. He will surely marry you off to Zhao Yun.”

Feng Miaojun held a chess piece, tapping it twice on the stone serving as a table: “Haven’t both sides forgotten something important?”

“What?”

“I won’t be easily manipulated by either of you. You cannot force me, and neither can Hu Yan Bei force me to marry the Yan prince.” She smiled slightly, “No matter who wins or loses between you, I remain the Queen of New Xia.”

Fu Lingchuan’s thin lips tightened.

“Besides, these are just conjectures, not evidence,” she analyzed calmly. “To present in court as testimony, you need concrete evidence to convict and imprison the Hu Yan family!”

“Soon,” Fu Lingchuan’s long eyebrows raised, “In at most ten days, evidence seized from Hu Yan’s territories will be delivered to Wusel!”

Ten days? Feng Miaojun’s eyes flickered slightly. Too long.

By now, the situation on the chessboard had become clear. Fu Lingchuan sighed: “It seems Changle was indeed letting me win last time.”

“Just luck. Wins and losses are perfectly normal, aren’t they?” She had won by an advantage of two and a half points. Feng Miaojun rested her chin on her hand, earnestly placing the final stone. “They say life is like chess, but I disagree.”

“Oh?” Fu Lingchuan predictably asked, “Why?”

“In chess, regardless of winning or losing, you can always play again,” she said slowly. “In reality, that’s not possible. The victor becomes king, the vanquished becomes the outlaw—there’s only one chance!”