He straightened his back, deliberately raising his voice. “Our Princess Mingzhu is thirty years of age, a woman of peerless beauty and virtue. She is our King’s most beloved eldest daughter.”
“That she is willing to marry into your country is an act of grace, born of the old friendship between our nations.”
The Vice-Envoy paused, a flash of greed dancing in his eyes. “If we are to forge this bond, our empire shall naturally provide generous gifts. As for the dowry…”
He dragged out his words. “According to the ancient customs of Eastern Liao: one million taels of gold, one million bolts of silk, one hundred camels from the Western Regions, and the addition of three horse-breeding grounds in the Northwest.”
The court fell into an uproar.
This wasn’t a marriage alliance—it was blatant extortion!
“A million bolts of silk?!”
“The horse-breeding grounds in the Northwest? Have they gone mad?”
The faces of every official in the hall changed. The “alarmist” warnings Gu Huaiyu had given in Chuigong Hall a few days ago had now become a cold, harsh reality.
At the time, some had privately whispered that he was exaggerating, claiming that Great Chen and Eastern Liao had been at peace for years and wouldn’t suddenly hike their prices.
But today’s demand for “ten times the gold and silk” was like a stinging slap to the face of every doubter.
Chancellor Gu was right.
The appetite of the Eastern Liao was growing ever more voracious.
Pei Jingyi was also surprised by Gu Huaiyu’s foresight. Standing at his side, he could see the faint curl of Gu Huaiyu’s lips—the look of a man who remained unmoved even if Mount Tai were to collapse before him.
Pei Jingyi touched the cheek that had been patted moments ago. The lingering scent of Agarwood made him narrow his eyes, wanting more.
The young Emperor on the dragon throne remained calm, showing no signs of panic. This was a habit formed from childhood; even if Eastern Liao demanded the moon itself, as long as Gu Huaiyu said “no,” Yuan Zhuo knew they would emerge unscathed.
“Unfortunate.”
Gu Huaiyu’s brow furrowed slightly. He had already prepared his response for the delegation. “Our Emperor is already engaged,” he said with feigned regret. “The wedding is set for next year.”
Yuan Zhuo’s eyes brightened inexplicably, his hands tightening on his knees.
“Then break the engagement!”
The Vice-Envoy’s gaze was arrogant as he flicked his sleeve. “To marry Princess Mingzhu is a symbol of peace for the Three Provinces and Six Commanderies! It is His Majesty’s good fortune!”
“How dare you refuse such a blessing? Do you want me to tell the Prince Regent that Great Chen has no desire for an alliance?”
Gu Huaiyu didn’t get angry. He continued to lead them into the pit he had dug. “Perhaps your delegation does not know.”
“In Great Chen, from the Emperor down to the commoners, an engagement is a sacred vow. To break it without cause is to be spat upon by the entire world.”
The Emperor on the throne nodded solemnly, fully endorsing this statement.
Gu Huaiyu’s furrowed brow smoothed out as he changed his tone. “However, if you insist on this alliance, our empire can select an auspicious day to welcome the Princess into the palace… as a Consort.”
The Eastern Liao delegation’s faces twisted.
In Eastern Liao, there was no such thing as a “Consort.”
If she was not the primary wife, she was a concubine.
A concubine was little more than a servant—no formal wedding, no crown, no dowry, no right to titles, and not even allowed into the main halls of the household.
“Presumptuous!” the Vice-Envoy roared, veins bulging on his forehead. “How dare you humiliate us so!”
Yelü Chi’s gaze finally landed on Gu Huaiyu’s face, scrutinizing him with intense focus.
Gu Huaiyu ignored him. He was long accustomed to being studied. He shed his lazy indifference and suddenly slammed his hand against the table.
Bang!
The loud crack startled everyone in the hall.
“Humiliate you?” He stood up, one hand pressing against his stinging palm as he stepped toward the delegation, his presence closing in on them. “So, your country actually knows the meaning of humiliation?”
Pei Jingyi instinctively followed. Gu Huaiyu’s silhouette was slender and fragile, looking as though a gust of wind might knock him over, while the Eastern Liao men were all hulking warriors. Any one of them could have crushed him.
And yet, for every step Gu Huaiyu took forward, the Eastern Liao delegation instinctively retreated half a step. Cold sweat beaded on the Vice-Envoy’s brow, and even the most muscular warriors lowered their heads.
Though he was unarmed, he seemed to wield an invisible sword, forcing these wolves of the plains to bow.
Gu Huaiyu stopped directly in front of the Vice-Envoy, leaning in to stare him in the eye. “Why play these games? If you want something, why not say it plainly?”
The Vice-Envoy’s face twitched. Under that piercing gaze, his composure finally shattered.
“The Annual Tribute,” he gritted out, lowering his voice in an attempt to maintain some dignity. “Eastern Liao demands a thirty-percent increase, plus additional gold and silk for the Annual Bride Tributes.”
Hearing this, some of the older officials actually breathed a sigh of relief. Compared to marriage and ceding land, money was a minor issue.
It was exactly as Gu Huaiyu had predicted. He slowly straightened his back, his heavy cloak sliding down his shoulders with the movement.
Pei Jingyi immediately stepped forward, catching the edge of the cloak and carefully draping it back over him. He did it with such natural grace, his tall frame casting a shadow over Gu Huaiyu that felt strangely protective and submissive.
“We follow the existing treaty,” Gu Huaiyu said, allowing Pei Jingyi to adjust his collar as he looked at the Vice-Envoy. “Not a copper less than what is owed, but not a single penny more than what is required.”
The civil officials exchanged glances. They had never seen anyone stand so firm against the Eastern Liao. This was the empire that had kept Great Chen under its heel for a century. Every Chancellor and Emperor before this had bowed and scraped when it came to the tribute.
To these old men, the fact that the delegation had lowered their demands was a godsend—a “peaceful resolution” they would have begged for.
But Gu Huaiyu refused to yield even an inch.
