What they didn’t know was that Gu Huaiyu was already being “lenient” to their nerves. His real plan was to stop paying what was “owed” entirely, and eventually, he intended to dig silver out of Eastern Liao’s own pockets.
The Vice-Envoy had dealt with countless Great Chen officials who treated him like their own grandfather. He had never met someone like Gu Huaiyu who took a mile when given an inch. He flew into a rage. “Fine! Is the Chancellor not afraid of war?”
He threatened darkly, “When the iron cavalry of Eastern Liao sweeps south, it will be just like the thirteenth year of Changping…”
Gu Huaiyu suddenly laughed.
The smile was breathtakingly beautiful, like peach blossoms falling onto water, but the words that followed were sharp enough to draw blood. “Can your soldiers even still ride their horses?”
The delegation’s faces collectively paled.
Gu Huaiyu’s gaze swept over them, his words light and airy. “You’ve lived comfortably for too long. Drinking, gambling, whoring… you’ve spent years ravaging the women and peasants of the Three Provinces and Nine Commanderies. Most of you have probably forgotten how to even saddle a horse.”
“I suspect your soldiers would be screaming in agony before they even cleared the Northern Pass.”
An uproar erupted in the hall.
The officials stared at each other, their faces masks of disbelief. The Eastern Liao they had feared for a hundred years—the enemy they knelt to before a single sword was drawn—was it truly as decayed as Chancellor Gu described?
Was the invincible Eastern Liao truly just a paper tiger?
The Vice-Envoy turned white, his mouth working, but no rebuttal came.
Yelü Chi had been watching the Chancellor this entire time. Like an experienced hunter on the plains, he could lie motionless in the grass for an eternity just to observe his prey.
But now, he had to speak, or the delegation would lose all face.
He set down his wine cup and slowly straightened his hunched back, finally revealing a hint of his hidden authority. “You are right. But if war breaks out, Great Chen has no chance of victory.”
This wasn’t a bluff.
Eastern Liao had indeed declined. Their military was lax, their generals were corrupt, and the once-dreaded iron cavalry was no longer what it once was. The warriors of the plains were drowning in wine and vice, and their hands were no longer steady on their bows.
But Great Chen’s fear ran deeper.
It was a shadow that had seeped into their very blood over generations. Decades of defeat and a century of indemnities had hammered the idea that “the Northern barbarians are invincible” into their souls.
Yelü Chi knew this all too well. A real war wasn’t decided by who was stronger, but by who flinched first.
As long as the soldiers of Great Chen still trembled at the sound of the horn, as long as the generals’ legs turned to jelly at the sight of the wolf banners—Eastern Liao would win. It didn’t matter if their soldiers couldn’t stay on their horses or if their armor was rusted through.
The moment Yelü Chi spoke, Gu Huaiyu’s gaze snapped to him. He narrowed his eyes and glanced at Pei Jingyi.
No words were exchanged, only a fleeting look.
Pei Jingyi understood instantly and gave a microscopic nod.
Gu Huaiyu knew.
This “interpreter” wasn’t sitting in the main line of the delegation. There was a specific distance maintained between him and the others. He wasn’t draped in gold and jewels like the envoys, and his build wasn’t that of a typical plains brute.
When Wu Wei raged, when the Vice-Envoy jumped in anger, and when the delegation clamored, this man had remained as cold and still as frost. He hadn’t moved a finger.
A mere subordinate didn’t have the right to be that calm.
Gu Huaiyu’s eyes sparked with a rare, brilliant light, as if he were looking into a mirror. He knew this kind of person all too well—someone who stood at the peak of power at a young age, with ruthless methods and a calm exterior.
Someone who had to suppress frontier armies while controlling the dark undercurrents of the court. He was looking at his own reflection. One in the Central Plains, one in the Eastern Liao. One assisting a young Emperor, one controlling an infant sovereign. Both “acting regents” who never intended to return power to the throne.
Gu Huaiyu suddenly leaned down, bringing his face inches from Yelü Chi’s. His breath was light, his voice honeyed with a trace of a smile. “This Chancellor does not agree. The people of Great Chen fear you because they think your cavalry is invincible. They think your soldiers are more than human.”
Yelü Chi’s pupils contracted.
He was too close.
So close he could see the shadow of long eyelashes against porcelain skin. So close he could smell the rich, heavy scent of Agarwood. In the daylight, that pale skin glowed like amber, and those vivid lips were still damp from the tea.
—Does this man even know what he is doing?
Gu Huaiyu was very satisfied with the reaction. He could feel the other man’s muscles tense instantly and saw the silent tremor in those grey-blue eyes.
Like two alpha wolves fighting for territory, he intended to crush the other’s spirit. He leaned in half an inch closer. “But if you lose just once…”
“When the soldiers of Great Chen see with their own eyes that your men also scream, bleed, and die.”
“Considering what you’ve done to the Three Provinces and Nine Commanderies, guess what they will do to you?”
Yelü Chi felt Gu Huaiyu’s warm breath against his cheek. He could see the perfect, soft curve of those lips. If he just moved forward an inch…
His Adam’s apple bobbed. He forced down the absurd thought, his voice rasping. “The battlefield shall provide the answer.”
Pei Jingyi’s eyes were sharp. He caught the way Yelü Chi’s gaze lingered on Gu Huaiyu’s parted red lips and the slight glimpse of his tongue.
“Chancellor.” He grabbed Gu Huaiyu’s arm and pulled him back, his tone casual as if he were joking. “Don’t get so close. Careful he doesn’t bite you.”
Yelü Chi finally snapped back to reality, instinctively licking his dry lips. The action made Pei Jingyi’s eyes turn even colder.
Damn it all, not another catamite-hunter.
Gu Huaiyu took the opportunity to step back. Pei Jingyi was right. He and Yelü Chi were like two wolves at a standoff. The first one to show weakness would be the first to have his throat torn out.
