Take control of Wei Zhongxian at the start and confiscate 100 million from him!

Chapter 82: Forget the past, focus on the future.

After seeing off the emotionally charged Li Kuo, Zhu Youjian felt no sense of relief.

North Korea is merely one move in the grand scheme of things in Liaodong, and it's not even a particularly risky one.

The real deciding factor in the future of this game, and even the fate of the Ming Dynasty, is another piece.

Zhu Youjian sat behind his desk, with a map spread out in front of him that encompassed the entire Liaodong region, Korea, and even parts of Japan.

This painting was redrawn by painters from the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs over several months, based on secret archives in the palace, military reports from the garrisons, and intelligence gathered by the Embroidered Uniform Guard at great personal risk.

The text is marked in detail with different colors of vermilion ink, showing the troop deployment, farmland locations, population distribution, and even several hidden trade routes leading to Korea.

In addition, there were more than a dozen memorials with similar contents.

A memorial impeaching Mao Wenlong, the General Commander of Dongjiang.

"Since Mao Wenlong was stationed in Dongjiang in the first year of the Tianqi reign, the imperial court has allocated countless sums of money for him every year! But in these seven years, apart from exaggerating some trivial victories, has he ever recovered an inch of lost territory? Has he ever restrained the main force of the Jurchens?"

"Mao Wenlong is arrogant and disloyal, embezzling soldiers' pay, engaging in smuggling and trade, and is practically a foreign warlord! His troops number two hundred thousand, but in reality, they are mixed with the old, weak, sick, and disabled, with only twenty or thirty thousand truly capable of fighting! This man squanders national funds, wields military power for himself, and is a great scourge to the country in name only! If he is not severely punished, he may become a major threat to the nation!"

And so on.

More than a dozen memorials listed Mao Wenlong's various crimes, each of which was enough to put him to death.

In their view, Mao Wenlong was a malignant tumor, a tumor growing outside the body of the empire that was frantically sucking its blood. Cutting him out was a matter of course and an urgent matter.

Zhu Youjian knew that Mao Wenlong was wasting money and grain; he was arrogant and disloyal; and he falsely reported his military achievements.
However, Zhu Youjian knew even better that as long as he was still on Pi Island, and as long as the banner of "General Mao of Dongjiang" remained, Huang Taiji would not dare to put all his troops in Liaoxi!
As long as he is still alive, there will always be a knife hanging over the back of the Later Jin, even if the knife is rusty and dull, it is still a knife!

The court officials wanted to kill him and replace him with a so-called virtuous and capable person.

But Zhu Youjian really wanted to ask these ministers: Would any one of you dare to risk your life like Mao Wenlong and become an unremovable nail in the enemy's heartland?
Do you have the ability to raise an army of tens of thousands of people when the imperial court's food and supplies are almost depleted?
Virtue is for educating the people, not for waging war.

In Zhu Youjian's eyes, there are only two kinds of people!

Useful and useless.

Zhu Youjian returned to his desk, took out a blank imperial edict, personally ground ink, and dipped his brush in cinnabar.

There was no tedious parallel prose, nor any official tone.

His pen moved across the paper, writing a secret letter that resembled a private correspondence.

After writing, he blew the ink dry, carefully folded the letter, put it into a specially made copper tube, and then sealed it with sealing wax and stamped it with his personal seal.

"Wang Tiqian," he called softly.

A figure emerged from behind the screen in the warm pavilion and knelt down on the ground.

"The minister is here."

"Go there yourself." Zhu Youjian handed Wang Tiqian a copper tube and a jade pendant with a double dragon design, carved from the finest mutton-fat white jade, representing the emperor's personal presence.

"Leave Beijing overnight for Dengzhou and Laizhou. Find Sun Guozhen, the governor of Dengzhou and Laizhou, and tell him that this is my decree. Instruct him to use the best Fujian ships and the most reliable sailors to secretly deliver these two items, as well as the first batch of supplies I prepared for Dongjiang Town, to Pi Island. Make sure to hand them over to Mao Wenlong personally."

Wang Tiqian accepted the heavy copper tube and jade pendant with both hands and kowtowed deeply: "Your subject obeys the decree."

……

a few days later.

The wind, from the capital, blew in all directions.

Yanghewei, Governor's Office.

The plaque bearing the inscription "Governor-General of Xuanda" has been hung high.

Man Gui stood in the hall wearing the robes of a second-rank official with a qilin emblem, yet he still exuded the iron-blooded aura of a seasoned general. Standing before him were the generals and deputy generals of Xuanfu and Datong.

There was no elaborate welcome banquet, no polite small talk.

Man Gui then laid out a huge military map in front of everyone.

"The first batch of rewards and provisions allocated by His Majesty is already on its way and will arrive within three days. I'm making this clear from the start," Man Gui said, his voice suddenly turning cold as he surveyed the crowd, "From this day forward, in every border fortress and garrison, anyone who dares to steal will be punished once verified."

He paused, then pointed to his sword.

"If it falls into my hands, my blade is swift; one stroke and my head is gone. But if it falls into the hands of the Embroidered Uniform Guard and alerts His Majesty… Hmph! Then it won't just be a matter of a head! Gentlemen, you'd better watch yourselves!"

……

Pied Island Pier is unusually bustling and noisy today.

The sea breeze was sharp as a knife, but it couldn't dispel the soldiers' barely suppressed excitement on the dock.

A dozen or so official ships flying the Ming Dynasty flags docked one after another, their heavy hulls drafting deep into the water. What they unloaded from the ships were not the usual insignificant documents, but crates of grain, brand-new military equipment, and precious medicinal herbs!

Mao Wenlong was already fully dressed. He stood on the earthen slope overlooking the entire dock, the sea breeze making his general's robe flutter, like an iron statue.

His weathered face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes were fixed on the figure stepping down from the main ship's pier. The figure was fair-skinned and dressed in the robes of a high-ranking official.

Mao Wenlong's heart was in turmoil.

For the past seven years, the imperial court has either ignored the matter or issued stern reprimands!
This was the first time he had ever seen such a scene.

Was it a trap, or a genuine act of divine favor?

Mao Wenlong strode down the earthen slope with an imposing aura, but stopped three steps away, and solemnly clasped his hands in a fist salute:

"General Mao Wenlong of Dongjiang respectfully welcomes the esteemed angel!"

The sound was as loud as a bell, and it echoed throughout half of the dock.

Looking at the imposing and valiant border commander before him, Wang Tiqian was secretly alarmed, but he wore a humble and polite smile on his face: "Commander Mao, you are too kind. I am here on the orders of the Emperor to deliver an imperial decree to reward the troops."

They remained silent all the way to the central command tent.

Wang Tiqian then took a copper tube sealed with sealing wax from the yellow satin tray held by the accompanying eunuch.

"This is a personal letter and token from His Majesty to you."

Wang Tiqian's voice was humble and polite, but it couldn't hide the fatigue from his long journey.

Mao Wenlong stretched out his large, fan-like hand and grabbed the copper pipe. With a forceful twist of his knuckles, a crisp "crack" was heard, and the hard copper pipe was bent by him, causing the sealing wax to crack.

He pulled out the letter inside; it was a sheet of fine Chengxintang paper, carrying a faint scent of ink, which seemed so out of place compared to the simple and crude general's tent.

Mao Wenlong unfolded the letter, his gaze falling on the characters written in vermilion ink, as sharp and powerful as iron hooks.

The very first sentence made his heart, which had long been hardened by iron, tremble violently.

"I am in the deep palace, gazing at the East Sea. I know that the general is isolated overseas, sleeping with his sword at his side and drinking blood, and has not had a peaceful night's rest for seven years. The corrupt scholars in the court measure the battlefield with letters and calculate merits with abacuses, and I hear criticisms every day. However, I do not believe it."

I... don't believe it.

These three simple words struck Mao Wenlong like a heavy hammer, causing him to catch his breath and his initial wariness to be instantly replaced by an indescribable shock.

He continued reading, each word seeming to explode in his mind with the force of thunder.

"The pedantic scholar does not understand that the merit of defending the land lies in defense, not in battle. Your troops, General, are like a giant anchor anchored in the Liaodong Sea, preventing the Jurchens from setting sail south—this is the first great achievement. The pedantic scholar does not understand that the merit of restraint lies in preservation, not attack. As long as you are on Pi Island, tens of thousands of Jurchen troops in southern and eastern Liaodong will not dare to move lightly, nor will they dare to leave their posts for even a moment—this is the second great achievement. The pedantic scholar further does not understand that the merit of winning hearts and minds lies in hope, not in possession. As long as Dongjiang remains intact, the hearts of the million Han people in Liaodong will have a direction, knowing that the Great Ming has not abandoned them—this is the third great achievement!"

"These three achievements are incomparable to those who merely engage in battle, and immeasurable to those who conquer cities and seize strongholds. These are merits that stabilize the nation, achievements of a hidden dragon! The court officials may not see them, but I do; the world may not hear of them, but I do!"

Upon reading this, a flush rose on Mao Wenlong's weathered and unruly face, and his hand holding the letter began to tremble slightly uncontrollably.

He suppressed the turmoil in his heart and continued to look down. The tone of the letter suddenly changed, from gentle affirmation to sharp killing intent!
"However, waiting passively for a rabbit to run into a tree stump is neither the general's ambition nor my wish. Today I send this letter not to inquire about the past, but only to determine the future!"

"I do not want you to be a dog guarding the land; I want you to be a wolf devouring bones! From this day forward, I grant you three things: First, I will provide for your finances, provisions, and military equipment, so you will no longer be troubled by these matters. Second, you will make all the decisions regarding the military and political affairs of Dongjiang, and I will defend you against any criticism from the court. Third, you may act as you see fit in terms of war and defense strategies; I will not interfere from afar!"

"I only ask one thing of you: let the entire Liaonan region burn into a sea of ​​fire! Burn its grain and fodder, destroy its military farms, kill its officials, and seize its cattle and horses! Let every time Huang Taiji sits in Shengjing, he can smell the burning odor coming from his own backyard!"

At the end of the letter were a few lines of text that Mao Wenlong could hardly believe his eyes.

"I have never met the General, yet we have long admired each other. When the day comes that we drive out the Tartars and recover the Liaodong Peninsula, I will warm wine for the General in the Western Garden. Written by myself."

"boom!"

Mao Wenlong's mind went blank.

The ink on the letter seemed to still carry a trace of warmth from the Forbidden City, piercing through the lingering chill of Pi Island over the past seven years.

"...I am in the Western Garden, warming wine for the general in anticipation."

Mao Wenlong's gaze was fixed on that line of text.

In his mind, the iceberg that had stood for seven years, formed by countless suspicions, framing, humiliations, and bloodshed, silently cracked open at this moment.

Then, the entire iceberg melted into warm water.

Warm the wine and wait.

How simple, yet how heavy!
Finally, there was a pair of eyes in the world that could see beyond the many barriers of Shanhaiguan, penetrate the spittle flying from the mouths of the officials in the court, and see clearly Mao Wenlong's head that refused to bow down, and the tens of thousands of souls behind him struggling in the bitter cold but never falling down!

In this world, there was finally someone who was willing to place such an immense trust on his shoulders so casually. This trust was ten thousand times heavier than mountains of grain and silver!
Mao Wenlong suddenly chuckled softly.

The laughter was soft and harsh, like a rusty blade scraping against a stone, sending chills down the spines of Chen Jisheng and the others nearby.

But the laughter grew louder and louder, gradually taking on an indescribable sense of exhilaration, as if a person who had been trapped in a deep well for seven years had finally climbed out and seen the complete starry sky above!
(End of this chapter)