Wei Qing remained composed, his voice steady. “Prepare to meet the enemy immediately. Bring out all the prepared items. As long as we stop the enemy, we will win.”
“Yes, General,” the surrounding soldiers responded in unison.
The Turks, having recovered, assembled an army of two hundred thousand cavalry, displaying their formidable strength. However, with the Great Zhou cutting off the trade of sheepskins, it was only a matter of time before they faced severe hardship. If the army held out, the Turks would be doomed.
In the Turkish camp, Jie Li Khan’s deputy, Gomohan, rushed in with a grave expression.
Jie Li Khan, seated in his tent, barely lifted his weary eyes.
Gomohan bowed deeply. “More and more tribes are causing trouble. The four Huyan tribes have begun to waver. Every day, small tribal leaders gather at our royal court, urging you to negotiate with the Great Zhou to resume trade. They claim they cannot survive otherwise.”
Jie Li Khan’s exhaustion showed in the furrow of his brows, but at these words, his eyes widened with fury. His fists clenched, veins bulging against his temples.
“Can’t these tribes understand our situation?” His voice was low, seething with anger.
The Zhou, fortified behind their grand cities, were already difficult to conquer. Now, with unrest at his back, his frustration burned hotter.
Teeth gritted, he spat, “If the Great Zhou refuses to take our sheep, then sell them elsewhere. I doubt foreign merchants will reject them if we lower the price.”
Gomohan hesitated before speaking. “The Great Zhou is overbearing. They have forbidden us from trading sheepskins within their borders.”
Jie Li Khan’s expression darkened.
“To reach foreign merchants, we must bypass the Great Zhou’s territory…” Gomohan continued, voice thick with frustration. “The cost of transport has soared. Worse, the merchants of other nations are ruthless. They know the Great Zhou is suppressing us, and they’ve begun driving prices down.
“At prices where we once sold a single sheepskin, we must now sell fifty just to break even. They are exploiting our desperation.”
Jie Li Khan’s vision swam with rage. Greedy, shameless merchants.
Like vultures, they circled, ready to strip the Turks to the bone.
His breath came sharp and heavy, but the weight in his chest refused to lift.
At last, he exhaled slowly. “Send word to the Khatun. She is to take everything from my private treasury and buy back some of the tribes’ sheepskins.”
Gomohan stiffened. “Khan—”
Jie Li Khan’s eyes flashed. “We must stabilize the rear. Once we capture and plunder a few cities of the Great Zhou, we will recover our losses.”
Gomohan swallowed hard. Jie Li Khan had no choice. Even if he bought sheepskins himself, it would only delay the inevitable.
More than half of the Turkic tribes relied on selling sheep to survive. Could Jie Li Khan sustain them all?
Only by breaking through the Great Zhou and pillaging its wealth could he rescue his people from ruin.
In the Great Zhou, inside the Qianyuan Hall, Yang Yi sat across from the Empress. Between them lay the latest intelligence from the front lines.
Yang Yi smiled slightly. “The attacks have increased. It seems Jie Li Khan is getting desperate.”
Wu Zhao’s sharp black eyes flickered as her phoenix-like brows drew together.
“Minister Yang, Jie Li Khan has no way out. He’s no longer trying to defeat us—he’s trying to seize our cities and plunder their wealth.
“The Turks are formidable. Our forces are spread thin, and Wei Qing commands only one hundred thousand troops. Can he hold them back?
“I have heard that Jie Li Khan has mobilized nearly one hundred fifty thousand cavalry. Should we deploy the new recruits?”
Yang Yi raised an eyebrow.
The new recruits—those recently conscripted into the Great Zhou army.
Originally a small nation, the Great Zhou had, through Yang Yi’s strategies, defeated the Qing and annexed its vast territories. Most of its forces remained stationed there, ensuring stability.
Then came the war with the Song. Troops were left in the north to secure the conquered lands.
In just two years, the Great Zhou had expanded beyond recognition, rivaling the Qin, Han, Tang, and Ming dynasties in sheer landmass.
But territory alone was meaningless.
A nation’s true strength lay in its economy, its cohesion, and its military prowess.
From the previous year to now, the Great Zhou had recovered enough to begin large-scale conscription. Three hundred thousand new recruits had joined the ranks. But they were inexperienced.
Would they hold against the fierce Turkish cavalry?
Yang Yi’s fingers tapped lightly against the table.
“The Turks are like starving wolves. Jie Li Khan has no retreat. He will throw everything into this battle. Sending raw recruits against them is sending them to their deaths.”
Wu Zhao’s brows furrowed, a rare flicker of concern breaking through her regal composure.
“I know that if we hold out, the Turks will collapse. But if Jie Li Khan, in desperation, focuses all his forces on a few cities, we may not withstand it.
“If he succeeds, he will slaughter and plunder, using the lives of our people to stave off his own downfall. I cannot allow that.”
Her gaze fell on Yang Yi. A hint of expectation flickered in her dark eyes.
“Minister Yang, is there a way to deal a heavy blow to the Turks quickly?”
She knew her request was nearly impossible. Given the disparity in forces, the safest path was to endure.
But she still asked. Because before her sat the man known as the world’s deadliest poison master, the Great Zhou’s Pillar of Jade and Beam of Gold.
Yang Yi’s lips curled into a wry smile. “Your servant has a lower strategy.”
Wu Zhao’s eyelid twitched. “Is there no higher strategy?”
Yang Yi spread his hands. “There’s only a lower strategy, an even lower strategy, and an even lower strategy.
“Which does Your Majesty prefer?”