“The barbarians seek only the profit of gold and silk. Our empire is rich in treasures; a little generosity can turn swords into plowshares. Why mobilize the masses for war?”
He looked at Gu Huaiyu, nodding with calculated respect. “The Chancellor cares for the world, and I admire that. But once war begins, the people are displaced. Surely that is not what the Chancellor desires?”
The atmosphere in the hall grew so tense it felt physical. In the military ranks, several young generals’ eyes turned blood-red, their fists creaking. One adjutant tried to step forward, only to have his wrist caught by Lao Yan’s iron-like grip.
“Hold it in!” Lao Yan hissed through his teeth. “The Chancellor hasn’t spoken yet. Is it your turn to show off?”
The veins on the adjutant’s neck bulged, but he eventually let out a heavy grunt and pulled his foot back. The officers exchanged glances, fire burning in their eyes.
“Damn it! These weak-boned scholars are trying to throw dirt on the Chancellor!”
“Exactly! They’re both educated men, but look at our Chancellor…” One of them peeked at Gu Huaiyu’s slender but upright figure, his eyes full of reverence. “Now that’s a real man!”
Lao Yan glared them into silence, but suppressed mutters of “spineless” and “cowards” still echoed in the quiet hall.
Qin Zijin acted as if he hadn’t heard, and several elder Pure Stream officials rushed to support him.
“The barbarians only come for wealth. Give them some silver and silk, send some Annual Brides, and won’t they stop?”
“Our great nation shouldn’t lower itself to deal with these tribes.”
“If we start a war over border skirmishes, aren’t we throwing the people into the fire?”
Gu Huaiyu suddenly laughed. It was a soft sound, but it made every official in the court hold their breath.
He sat up straighter and asked the elders with genuine interest, “So, you all think the Eastern Liao are mere barbarians?”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
“Then do you know…” His voice dropped to a whisper, as if sharing a secret. “What we are in the eyes of the Eastern Liao?”
The question hit like a clap of thunder. The Pure Stream elders stammered, none of them daring to answer—not because they didn’t know, but because they didn’t dare say it aloud.
Gu Huaiyu answered for them. “We are fat sheep who kneel to give them money. We are cowards who surrender our women when we lose a battle. We are…”
“We are weaklings who kneel before we even draw our blades!”
“You think sending money and women buys peace?” Gu Huaiyu sneered at their willful ignorance. “The Eastern Liao will only see that we are easy targets. Next year, they will want more! If they can take ten thousand bolts of silk this year, they’ll demand a hundred thousand next. If they want a hundred thousand coins this year, they’ll demand a million next.”
“You call them ignorant barbarians. But when you are on your knees, do you have the right to say those words?”
Dead silence.
The elders’ faces flushed a deep red, as if they had been stripped naked in public. They were humiliated and furious, yet they couldn’t utter a single word. The younger scholars hung their heads, their expressions conflicted.
As scholars, they were taught that “a gentleman must be broad-minded and resolute” and to “worry before the rest of the world worries.” Yet, they had to admit—in this hall, the person who most embodied those words was the very “Gu the Cat” they cursed daily.
Meanwhile, the military ranks were boiling with excitement. Gu Huaiyu had just shouted out everything they had been forced to swallow for years!
“My life is for fighting, not for kneeling!”
“Motherfucker, that’s our Chancellor!”
A young lieutenant’s eyes were wet as he thudded a fist against his chest, wishing he could charge out and slaughter a hundred Liao soldiers right then and there. Lao Yan’s eyes were also red as he struggled to keep his subordinates in line.
“Stay calm, stay calm. Don’t make trouble for the Chancellor.”
“But damn it, those are real words!”
Pei Jingyi stared at that frail, slender figure, momentarily dazed. Without realizing it, the way he looked at Gu Huaiyu was exactly how he used to look at the Biographies of Great Generals as a boy. Back then, he had read by candlelight, imagining the glory of legendary heroes, hoping to one day bleed for his country.
Now, the man before him wasn’t a general on a horse, yet he understood better than any soldier… what it meant to be a peerless statesman. It was a power that didn’t rely on blades, yet it overwhelmed everyone.
Gu Huaiyu couldn’t be bothered with the people pretending to be fools anymore; you can’t wake someone who is feigning sleep. He preferred to talk to those who were awake.
He walked toward the military officers. His movement was like a ladle of cold water hitting hot oil. The officers erupted.
“The Chancellor! The Chancellor is coming!”
“Make way! Make way for the Chancellor!”
“Don’t push! I was here first!”
Lao Yan stepped forward first, cupping his hands and speaking in a gravelly voice. “This general is Yan Ju, formerly of the Regional Army—”
“I remember you,” Gu Huaiyu interrupted gently. “Seven years ago, you were ambushed by the Eastern Liao. With eight hundred men, you held off two thousand, killed one hundred and seventy enemies, and captured a commander alive. You were transferred to the rear guard due to a leg injury.”
Lao Yan’s eyes widened, and he suddenly looked like he might cry. He opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could only offer a deep, respectful bow.
This set off a frenzy. Other officers scrambled to get closer.
