Chapter 82: The Toxic Fishing Conspiracy!
In Changcheng, Guo Jingzhi scratched his head.
“General, Qianlong definitely won’t surrender, right? Then… why tell them we infected them with smallpox?”
Heichi Changzhi spoke in a low voice.
“Of course, he won’t surrender. As for the smallpox, out here in this desolate wilderness, even the thickest-headed would eventually realize it was us.
“Telling him now forces his retreat—there are likely smallpox cases still hidden among them. If they take those soldiers back, it will wreak havoc on the Qing Dynasty.”
Guo Jingzhi was stunned, his mouth hanging open in shock.
“So that’s the plan… General, when did you start strategizing like Prime Minister Yang? Uh, I mean, your methods are becoming just as ruthless.”
Changzhi shot him a glare. “This was in a letter from Prime Minister Yang. After all, the Qing army isn’t his only target.”
The soldiers nearby fell silent, sharing looks of astonishment. As expected of Yang—the man was as thorough as he was ruthless.
Guo Jingzhi swallowed hard, his eyes wide with amazement.
“So Prime Minister Yang saw this coming. Truly ruthless. Any other instructions?”
Heichi Changzhi looked at him and the eager soldiers.
“Prime Minister Yang said that if Qianlong retreats, he’ll likely abandon all soldiers infected with smallpox. We’ll take those men and send them to Qing cities.
“Qing citizens won’t suspect their own troops. By the time they realize the infection has spread, it’ll be too late, and conquering those cities will be a breeze.”
A shocked silence settled over the tent as every soldier took in the sinister brilliance of Yang’s plan. Using their own infected soldiers as a weapon against their homeland?
Guo Jingzhi stared, awestruck. “Brilliant. It’s chilling. Only someone entirely devoid of sentiment could devise such a scheme. This is vintage Prime Minister Yang.”
The soldiers nodded in agreement. Yang’s strategies rarely left room for mercy.
Three days later, Qianlong led a hasty retreat, knowing that lingering meant certain death by the Zhou army’s smallpox. The infected soldiers were mercilessly left behind.
Half a month later, in the Qing capital, a weary Qianlong hurried back to the palace. This campaign had cost him dearly—he’d barely escaped with his life. The Zhou had unleashed smallpox, a monstrous act.
Ten days passed before his peace was shattered.
“Your Majesty, it’s terrible—smallpox has broken out everywhere,” reported Fu Cha Fu Heng.
“Cases are spreading daily, with hundreds of thousands infected already. The enemy is advancing deeper into Qing, and they’ve captured six of our cities.”
Qianlong’s eyes widened. “How did it spread so quickly? I ordered all troops stationed in the wilderness to prevent this!”
Fu Cha Fu Heng nodded. “The Zhou took the soldiers we left behind and sent them to our cities. The officials, thinking they were wounded soldiers, allowed them in. By the time they realized it was smallpox, it was too late.”
Qianlong’s face turned red with rage. “The Zhou are truly vile, sending infected soldiers to our cities. Who could think of such a scheme?”
Fu Cha Fu Heng continued, voice tense. “Your Majesty, citizens are panicking. The Zhou army is using their smallpox cure as leverage to encourage our people to surrender. If this continues, the Qing Dynasty may fall.”
Qianlong’s veins bulged with anger. He never expected the Zhou to weaponize variolation so effectively. Now, he had no solution.
He rubbed his temples, grimacing. “Order all local officials to combat the outbreak. Summon Niohuru Aligun to lead a counterattack. As long as we weather this…”
Before he could finish his sentence, his vision darkened, and he collapsed.
Fu Cha Fu Heng shouted in alarm, “Your Majesty!”
The imperial physician rushed in. After examining him, he turned pale.
“The Emperor has contracted smallpox.”
Everyone backed away, terrified. Even the Emperor had fallen ill. This truly was the end.
In the Council Hall, Shangguan Wan’er handed a report to the Empress, her face alight with joy. She wore a striking white tulip palace dress, her elegance aloof and refined.
The Empress read the report, a smile flashing across her lips.
“Excellent. Our forces have already captured six cities, advancing unchallenged. The Qing’s downfall is near.”
Dressed in a golden dragon robe, her ample chest trembling with excitement, Wu Zhao’s pale fingers gripped the report tightly. She turned to Yang Yi beside her, lips curving in amusement.