Demon Consort’s Father 2
After the military physician finished treating his wound, Qin Jingzhou soothed the original host’s confidants. Then he ordered the Prince’s Personal Guards’ captain and the King’s Trusted Advisor to make a thorough investigation into the traitor who had just attacked him on the battlefield.
The Prince’s Personal Guards were different from the several deputy generals kneeling on the ground—their provisions, armor, and weapons were all supplied by the original host. In other words, the Prince’s Personal Guards were the original host’s true Private Troops.
The same could be said for the advisors.
By rights, having a traitor emerge from these Private Troops was a grave matter, but this particular traitor had only been selected less than three months prior. In fact, both the original host and his confidants knew this person had come to act as a Spy, a plant sent to watch them.
After all, who in this world can guard against thieves every day?
Rather than rejecting the man and forcing Emperor Yongning to send yet another agent, it was better to keep him under surveillance right before their eyes. The only problem is that as soon as a battle broke out, the man dutifully followed the Imperial Decree and attempted to assassinate the Military Commander. Not only were the confidants unprepared for this, even the original host hadn’t expected it.
In the plot, the original host dies here. The Emperor’s little scheme, which appears to have rid him of a potential threat, actually leads to a total collapse in military morale. Even the loyal and upright ministers at court decide the Emperor is hopeless, and begin seeking other paths instead of doing their duty.
Now that Qin Jingzhou has transmigrated here, the scholars and officials may not immediately give up hope in the Emperor as in the original story, but some thoughts are bound to stir. Most importantly, the majority of the two hundred thousand border troops guarding West Gate Pass have committed their allegiance to him—as long as he can feed and provide for those two hundred thousand mouths.
When the confidants finally dispersed, Qin Jingzhou changed into regular clothes and reclined on a thickly padded lounge chair to talk to the System. “I’ve met the original host’s confidants. The good news is, they’re quite loyal. The bad news is, there are two hundred thousand of them... At the very least I have two hundred thousand mouths to feed.”
The System knew that Brother Zhou was more than capable, but it still felt obliged to sigh. “That’s right. At the very least. Strictly speaking, you’ll have to provide food and shelter for their families as well.”
Qin Jingzhou smiled. “I need to lay the groundwork in advance, before that muddleheaded Emperor summons me back to the Capital.”
The four northwestern provinces of Great Qi were bounded to the south by mountains stretching more than a thousand kilometers east to west, averaging over four thousand meters in elevation, and to the east by the North River, which regularly flooded and separated north from south. Farther north, mountain ranges blocked the way to Jin Country. On the map, it looked easy to defend and hard to attack, but in truth, the geography itself made further development all but impossible.
Although the northwestern provinces had arguably better natural conditions than his own homeland, they couldn’t compare to the fertile central and southern regions of Great Qi, which were figurative lands of fish and rice. The real killer, though, was the lack of a stable output of iron or coal mines in the northwest—not even a proper salt well. That was why Emperor Yongning felt comfortable letting the original host command troops here for ten years. The Emperor was widely known as a muddle-headed ruler, but most of the time his mind was quite clear. He only lost his senses during critical decisions—that was all.
Qin Jingzhou finished sketching out the basics in his heart: In the early days, he could only rely on what the mountains could provide—farming, selling grain, and medicinal herbs, just to keep things afloat.
After ten years commanding troops in the northwest, how could the original host have failed to prepare a way out for himself?
Because of the unending wars with Jin Country beyond the pass, there was more emigration than immigration among civilians in the northwest. As such, the four northwestern provinces didn’t have any Noble Families with substantial influence over local affairs. There were some renowned clans, but at best they were big landlords, and the most household troops they could summon amounted to a few hundred at most.
So, over the past ten years, the original host had gradually purchased a large amount of mountain forests and farmland adjacent to them, all without attracting attention.
Qin Jingzhou rifled through the original host’s memories to double-check, then summoned the Grand Steward in charge of agricultural affairs: For now, begin planting potatoes, sweet potatoes, and some commonly used medicinal herbs.
Potatoes and sweet potatoes had been grown locally for decades, but the yield per mu...was just a fraction of what he recalled from home.
He gave the Grand Steward some practical, face-to-face instruction—it’s no use teaching too much at once—sharing one practical tip to boost the harvest for each crop before sending him off.
The Grand Steward left all smiles, and Qin Jingzhou, watching the loyal confidant’s retreating figure, felt comforted as well. “The original host had a good eye. He knew how to train troops and choose his people, and his confidants all have their strengths and can be relied upon. If he raised a bunch of unfilial sons, that really isn’t his fault.”
As news spread through the northwest barracks that the Military Commander had been ambushed on the battlefield but survived unscathed, everyone made up their own minds about who the real mastermind was.
Very soon, an unspoken agreement settled over the whole encampment.
Of course, there were still people who tried to slip word to the Emperor, but, as luck would have it, a carrier pigeon carrying a Secret Message happened to be spotted by Qin Jingzhou on patrol. With a casual arrow, he shot it down.
Right in front of everyone, a confidant untied the Secret Message from the pigeon’s leg and slowly opened it: An incident has occurred, Yan Jingzhou intends to rebel. The palm-sized note had a bright red seal stamped in the bottom right corner.
Even without seeing the seal, just looking at the textured paper and the words “an incident has occurred,” it was irrefutable proof that Emperor Yongning had sought to murder the Military Commander.
At Qin Jingzhou’s gesture, the message was circulated among the assembled officers.
Afterward, his confidant carefully restored the Secret Message, tucked it away, and planned to bring it back to camp and send it back to the original host with a new pigeon.
When that Secret Message and the triumph report from the northwest arrived together at Emperor Yongning’s desk...the Emperor neither smashed things nor cursed. He simply let out a low sigh.
His attempt had failed, so for now he could only swallow his pride and endure!
But no matter how much Emperor Yongning knew he had to stay patient for the time being, he could hardly swallow his frustrations. He grew so distracted that even handling memorials became half-hearted.
He made mistake after mistake, threw his vermillion brush aside, kneaded his face, and ordered the senior eunuch waiting in the corner, “Go summon Noble Consort Guo.”
The senior eunuch, who had kept close watch over the Emperor day and night, knew well enough that Noble Consort Guo was now the Emperor’s dearest favored consort.
He went to her palace chambers himself, treating everyone with perfect manners, and even took the initiative to offer, “Your Majesty is feeling out of sorts.”
Noble Consort Guo’s brows creased gently as she rose. “Is it because of...” She pointed west. “...matters at the front that are troubling His Majesty?”
The senior eunuch nodded slightly.
She understood and quietly said, “Please wait a moment, Eunuch.”
Noble Consort Guo returned to her inner quarters to change, assisted by her maids.
When she appeared before the Emperor two quarters of an hour later, she wore a faintly troubled expression and opened with a bland reassurance. “Your Majesty, you are being too hasty.”
Emperor ofYongning didn’t mind letting his beloved consort know the cause of his worries. “Beloved, so you’ve heard too.” He drew her into his arms, and as the inner attendants and lady officials tactfully took their leave, he confessed, “I just thought, amid the chaos... If it’d worked, who knows? That man guaranteed me in his Secret Report that he’d succeed.”
Noble Consort Guo, who constantly reminded herself each day that serving a ruler is like accompanying a tiger—especially when the Emperor in question is mad—couldn’t help but curse inwardly: Good grief! Now that I think about it, in the original plot line, Yan Jingzhou was probably killed by this idiot Emperor’s tricks right around now.
That part in the novel had always been glossed over with a single sentence, so she hadn’t paid much attention.
She recalled how, since transmigrating, she had been far more proactive in approaching the male lead Yan Duan than the original plot described, sometimes even passing on tidbits of insider information; not to mention, Yan Duan was the biological son of Yan Jingzhou... She quickly worked it out: Could it be that my arrival here has altered the course of the story?
Her heart was unsettled, but she didn’t let it distract her from listening intently as the Emperor described how he had plotted the assassination...but the more she heard, the more she felt dazed. She remembered, back before transmigrating, witnessing “real-life corporate warfare” and being shocked and amused in equal measure—especially when people would lead teams to snatch company seals.
She turned her head ever so slightly and scrutinized Emperor Yongning: What a waste of those handsome looks!
Emperor Chongzhen only executed Yuan Chonghuan after Yuan killed Mao Wenlong, and there was the added slander of courtiers and the machinations of Huang Taiji... Yet history agrees no one can really blame Chongzhen for the fall of his dynasty! You want to dispose of a great general before Yan Jingzhou has even defeated Jin Country? You’re even more hopeless than Chongzhen!
She had read the novel, and knew that after Yan Jingzhou died, West Gate Pass was lost. The Jin Country cavalry swept east, and when the North River blocked their way, the local noble families even supplied them with boats. Sensing disaster, the Emperor immediately fled the Capital, and the original host frantically ran for her life alongside him…
There wasn’t much detail in the novel about this phase of “suffering the protagonist,” but recalling it still sent chills down her spine.
If Yan Jingzhou stayed alive, perhaps she would sleep more soundly at night. So she squeezed the Emperor’s hand. “Your Majesty, if you’re worried about him, why not summon him to the Capital first? Once he’s back, he’ll be isolated—what you do with him is entirely up to Your Majesty.”
If anyone else had said this, even the Empress, the Emperor would have flown into a rage.
But from his beloved Noble Consort, it sounded like nothing but concern for his own interests. For even if he was not always wise and heroic, to her he was always flawless.
Emperor Yongning thought it over sincerely: Executing a meritorious general on the spot would not benefit his reputation.
So he decided to take her advice. With her resting against him, he soon calmed down.
He patted her shoulder. “I’ll need to comfort Consort Yan for a few days... Beloved…”
Noble Consort Guo thought she was used to the nauseating affection of this self-deluding Emperor, but hearing this still made her throat tighten. She was forced to summon every bit of her acting skill, bracing herself, and said, “Your Majesty… I know your heart…”
The Emperor was thoroughly gratified. “And I know yours.”
Back in her own palace at last, Noble Consort Guo barely had time to freshen up before she changed again and sat down at her desk to write a secret note to Yan Duan, venting her frustrations.
She might privately think that the male lead Yan Duan was far too weak, but at least he wasn’t disgusting—and after all, Yan Duan had always loved the female lead and her alone.
As for the Emperor of Yongning, he was a fool through and through. The abilities of his Empress…well, you can imagine.
The palace wasn’t exactly full of holes, but “as long as you have silver” was all that mattered.
So that night, Noble Consort Guo’s personal note was soon delivered to Yan Duan.
Receiving a secret note from the one he loved, Yan Duan was thrilled. But after reading the densely written thousand-odd characters, his heart felt like it was frying in oil.
But he was outside the palace—how could he help her at all?
He paced restlessly in his study for a while, then made his decision. Instead of writing back to his beloved, he would ask his eldest sister, who was now a Virtuous Consort in the palace, for help.
With silver to speed things along, the exchange of letters went efficiently.
The next morning, Virtuous Consort Yan received her brother’s letter, opened it, then flung it straight into the brazier at her feet—her own brother actually had the nerve to tell her to show more ambition, to seek out more nights in the Emperor’s bed, and not to let down their father’s plans or their family’s expectations.