"This humble official, Liang Youda, requests an audience with General Zhong!"
The newly appointed Prefect of Mianzhou City knelt outside, trembling as he begged for an audience, surrounded by other officials from the city.
This scene was rather unbelievable. In the Qian State, civil officials were often regarded as three ranks higher when interacting with military personnel, frequently treating even military officers of higher rank with disdain.
Yet, the elderly Minister Zhong, who resided in the prefectural office, was an exception. Zhong Wenhao, having already reached a ripe old age, was a living fossil in the military circles of the Qian State. The Zhong Family had been guarding the Southwest for Qian for nearly a century.
Zhong Wenhao’s influence could no longer be described merely by the term "military officer."
Faced with the Mianzhou Prefect’s request for an audience, Zhong Wenhao merely wiped his face with a towel passed to him by his personal soldier, neglecting to respond.
He was too disdainful, too lazy to bother.
After a moment, Zhong Wenhao sat down in a chair and waved his hand, signaling his personal soldier to move the fire basin away from him.
Winter in the North was bitterly cold, unlike the humid heat of the Southwest. Due to his age, Minister Zhong disliked the dry heat emanating from the fire basin.
The one brought in was not the Mianzhou City officials begging for an audience outside, but Meng Geng, who entered from a side hall.
Meng Geng’s hair was somewhat disheveled, and his eyes held a vacant look. However, upon seeing Zhong Wenhao seated at the head, he immediately prostrated himself.
"This guilty general, Meng Geng, pays his respects to General Zhong!" Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novel★fire.net
"Get up." COUGH, COUGH... Minister Zhong started to cough again; he truly detested the climate in the North.
Yet, there was nothing he could do. He had previously known that the defenses along Qian’s three frontiers were lax. However, they consumed at least half of the court’s annual military expenditure. Minister Zhong thought, Even if they are lax, they should still maintain some semblance of order, right?
Grand Commandant Yang’s memorial and the reactions of the various ministers in court had surprised even Zhong Wenhao. These three frontiers, consuming the lion’s share of military funds each year, have actually become this absurd?
If one claimed it was impossible to stop the Yan people’s Northern Garrison Army when they advanced from the desert, that might be somewhat excusable. But now, the Yan’s Northern Garrison Army had not even moved south. Only their South Stabilization Army had mobilized once, and yet it had already scared Grand Commandant Yang out of his wits.
It was impossible for Zhong Wenhao not to feel a surge of anger. If those military funds could be allocated to his own West Army Division, he reflected, the soldiers would live more comfortably. The campaigns against those restless chieftains could be far more decisive. With a few years of dedicated effort, it might even be possible to completely subdue the southwestern chieftains.
Of course, Zhong Wenhao could only entertain these thoughts privately. For some years now, the court had begun efforts to dismantle, suppress, and divide the West Army Division as a military collective. However, although the West Army Division did not belong to his Zhong Family, its various warlords, in reality, all closely rallied around the Zhong Family, looking to them for leadership. This had rendered the court’s methods largely ineffective.
This time, the impending southern invasion by the Yan people had, in a way, provided a reprieve for the West Army Division.
As a man from a military family, Zhong Wenhao genuinely preferred facing the enemy’s blades and cavalries to wracking his brains dealing with the grandees at court.
"Guilty general? What crime have you committed?"
"This..." Meng Geng hesitated, unsure how to respond.
"You successfully defended Mianzhou City; that is a merit."
Meng Geng kowtowed again, saying, "Thank you for your protection, General Zhong."
At this juncture, Zhong Wenhao indeed had the authority to pass judgment on this matter.
Of course, even though there was shockingly infighting among their own people within Mianzhou City when the West Army Division arrived, the city ultimately did not fall to the Yan.
"It has been hard on you," Zhong Wenhao sighed.
"This humble general dares not claim such," Meng Geng said, bowing his head.
Looking at Meng Geng, Zhong Wenhao couldn’t help but think of Meng Geng’s father. Then he recalled the past, when he and Meng Geng’s father stood together beside the Tattoo-faced Master.
Regretfully, those times were long gone.
At this moment, a personal soldier walked in and whispered something in Zhong Wenhao’s ear.
Zhong Wenhao’s eyes narrowed slightly.
He ordered, "Seal off the entire city. Search it!"
"Yes, sir!" The personal soldier departed.
Zhong Wenhao sighed and said, "Prince Fu is dead."
"His body was found in a stable, but his head was missing."
"How... how is that possible?"
"It must have been a Yan spy who infiltrated the city."
"Prince Fu... Prince Fu was a good prince."
"Heh," Zhong Wenhao said dismissively. "What I worry about is this: if it truly was the Yan people’s doing, then even though they failed to breach Mianzhou City this time, possessing Prince Fu’s head could have an even greater impact than if they had actually conquered the city again."
Meng Geng lowered his head, saying nothing.
"So be it. Since Prince Fu is dead, then you, Meng Geng, are as good as dead too."
"This subordinate obeys."
With that, Meng Geng stood up, preparing to take a sword from a personal soldier to end his own life.
Zhong Wenhao observed all of this and spoke again, "From now on, you shall be called Zhong Geng."
Meng Geng was stunned.
"For now, you’ll take my surname. Let’s just say I’m getting a fine general, a little ’perk’ thanks to your father. After this war ends, your own merits will allow this to be set aside, and you can be Meng Geng once more."
This was the simplest way and would save a lot of trouble.
"Thank you, General Zhong!" Meng Geng knelt and kowtowed once more.
"Do you know who led the troops attacking the city this time?"
"This subordinate does not know."
"It’s written on the pillar outside the gate: Zheng Fan, Commander of Green Willow Fortress."