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

Chapter 86 For the Emperor, for the World, Let's Play This Game Again!

Beijing.

The East Warm Pavilion of Qianqing Palace was very quiet.

It was so quiet that you could hear the crackling of the charcoal fire inside the gilded bronze beast in the corner; the sound was faint, but reassuring.

Zhu Youjian stood alone in front of a huge map that took up almost half the room.

“The likes of Qian Longxi are nothing more than a minor ailment; once it’s cut away, new flesh will grow back.” He was talking to himself while looking at the map, as if he were speaking to an unseen audience. “But Liaodong is a deep-seated, incurable disease. If this disease is not cured, the Ming Dynasty will never have peace.”

Simply defending is like cutting off your own flesh to feed a tiger, hoping that one day it will take pity on you or die from overeating—such thinking is ridiculously naive.

We must break this deadlock.

But breaking the deadlock requires a player who can see the whole game and is willing to make moves according to his intentions.

His gaze shifted from the map, slowly sweeping across the empty, warm pavilion, as if familiar or unfamiliar figures stood there.

Zhao Shuaijiao.

The name came to mind, followed by the image of a warrior's face etched with the marks of time.

There are also some generals in Liaodong now. He respects these men from the bottom of his heart. They are the swords of the Ming Dynasty, the spears of the empire, and brave warriors who will fight to the death.

Place them atop a city wall, and they can use their lives and blood to transform the city into a reef that leaves the enemy helpless.

But they are merely reefs.

They are like the "chariot" and "cannon" on the chessboard, brave and capable of charging into battle and defending a city or territory, but they cannot see the overall structure of the chessboard.

Letting them take charge of the overall situation is tantamount to letting a peerless sword figure out how to win the entire war on its own.

A knife is only meant for wielding; thinking is for the one wielding the knife.

Who can be the one to wield the knife?
Over the past few months, one name has consistently entered Zhu Youjian's mind, carrying with it a myriad of complex emotions.

Yuan Chonghuan.

This is also the candidate recommended by many court officials in recent months.

In the original course of history, when Emperor Chongzhen's gaze slowly swept over the officials below and inquired about the affairs of Liaodong, he was met with deathly silence. The officials, who were usually eloquent and erudite, all lowered their heads and remained silent as if shivering in the cold.

In the Ministry of War, not a single person dared to step forward and volunteer!
Throughout the entire Ming Dynasty, it seemed that there was not a single person with the backbone to face the iron cavalry from beyond the Great Wall.

In fact, in the original history, this name almost embodied all of Chongzhen's hopes when he first ascended the throne.

The cannon shot that rang out from the walls of Ningyuan seemed to inject a shot of adrenaline into the crumbling Ming Dynasty. And that earth-shattering declaration, "Pacify Liaodong in five years," stood out against the backdrop of a court full of cowards. What lofty ambitions and what high spirits!

If it were still that original seventeen-year-old young emperor, facing such a situation, he would probably have already regarded him as the last straw, wishing he could immediately present the imperial sword to him and entrust the fate of the nation, which was in turmoil, to him.

But he is not.

"Five years to pacify Liaodong..." Zhu Youjian murmured these four words, slowly shaking his head, his eyes filled with complex emotions and regret.

At a time when the government and the public are silent, this heroic spirit has immense power, enough to sweep away the gloom and despondency of the world.

But Zhu Youjian understood even more clearly that this was not a well-thought-out strategy, but a military order that would put both the emperor and his ministers on the brink of disaster.

Once the deadline approaches and he has achieved nothing, the very force that once elevated him to godhood will turn into the most violent storm, turning against the emperor and his ministers and shaking the foundations of the nation!
However, this is not the most crucial point.

What was most fatal was his arrogance and his disregard for the emperor!

"A forged imperial edict has been issued, and Mao Wenlong has been killed without authorization!"

When this thought crossed his mind, Zhu Youjian's pupils suddenly contracted. This was the deepest and most poisonous thorn in his heart!
How can you expect a commander who can disregard the emperor's orders and arbitrarily kill a general in order to achieve his own goals to meticulously execute a complex strategy that requires coordination from multiple parties and even requires him to make temporary concessions at times?

Zhu Youjian could tolerate a general's strategic flaws, and even his arrogance, but he could never tolerate a commander who regarded the emperor's authority as a mere formality!

At this point, Zhu Youjian's last vestige of reliance on historical paths vanished. Having rejected Yuan Chonghuan, the image of the commander he needed was now as clear as a reflection in a mirror.

This person must understand strategy, not just tactics; must understand politics and be able to balance the complex relationships between the court, military families, and the frontier; and must have enough patience and resilience to endure long-term investment without being impatient for quick success.

Most importantly, this person must be able to fully understand his intentions and have absolute loyalty to him!
On this almost non-existent, austere portrait, a gaunt yet incredibly resolute figure slowly emerges.

Sun Chengzong, former Imperial Tutor, Grand Secretary, and former Commander-in-Chief of Liaodong!

He single-handedly constructed the framework of the Guan-Ning-Jin defense line, and its core idea of ​​"advancing step by step and gradually recovering" itself contained a long-term and steady strategic vision.

Despite being a civil official, he was able to make the arrogant and fierce soldiers and generals outside the Great Wall submit to his will.

Ability, prestige, patience, vision—he fits the bill perfectly!

Moreover, he was the emperor's tutor.

He was the mentor who taught the emperor to read the Zizhi Tongjian word by word. This teacher-student relationship, which transcended the boundaries between ruler and subject, was unparalleled by anyone else.

It's him!

Zhu Youjian made up his mind and had no more hesitation.

He abruptly stood up, walked to the side of the imperial desk, and began to grind ink. The ink stick spun in the inkstone, making a rustling sound, just like the determination in his heart to put his plans into action.

Zhu Youjian did not follow the procedures of the Secretariat and the Office of Transmission; he wanted to use the most direct method that best reflected his personal will.

He unfolded a sheet of imperial stationery with cloud and dragon patterns, picked up his pen, dipped the tip in ink, and held it above the paper. Thousands of words in his heart were finally transformed into earnest and solemn words on his pen.

"Respectfully your disciple Youjian reports to Your Excellency..."

"The nation is in dire straits, and Liaodong is in grave danger. Although I think about this day and night, what I see and think is only a superficial understanding. Only when I think of my teacher's teachings do I feel that I have a little insight into the situation. However, this plan is grand and cannot be steered by anyone but someone with extraordinary talent. I have thought of everyone in the court and the country, and only my teacher comes to mind."

"I have prepared a simple feast in the Wenhua Hall and have prepared a warm welcome for you. I respectfully invite my esteemed teacher to return to the capital and, for my sake and for the sake of the world, to play this game again!"

After writing, he put down his pen, carefully folded the letter, but did not immediately seal it in an envelope.

"comprehensive."

The sound was not loud, but it was like a pebble thrown into a still pond.

In the shadows outside the palace gate, a figure seemed to be ripped from the void by the sound, silently slipping into the palace and kneeling on the ground. The entire process was conducted without making a single extra sound, even the rustling of clothes was suppressed to the extreme.

Zhu Youjian handed over the unsealed letter, and Zhou Quan immediately bowed and respectfully accepted it with both hands.

"This is a personal letter I wrote to the Imperial Tutor," Zhu Youjian's voice remained calm, revealing no emotion.

Zhou Quan lowered his head, even slowing his breathing, waiting for what was to come.

"I want you," Zhu Youjian's gaze finally fell on him, "to send your most elite men from the Western Depot, along with the best doctors and the most comfortable carriages, to Gaoyang immediately."

He paused slightly, then said, "Bring Sun Chengzong, the old gentleman, back to me."

He pronounced the word "please" with exceptional clarity and weight, causing Zhou Quan's heart to skip a beat, but he lowered his head even further.

“The old gentleman is advanced in years; he cannot afford the slightest bump on the road, nor can he be disturbed in the slightest,” Zhu Youjian added, his voice tinged with concern. But this concern only made the order more stern. “I want to see the Imperial Tutor safe and sound in the Wenhua Hall in the safest way possible. Do you understand?”

"Your Majesty, I obey your decree." Zhou Quan's voice was hoarse but firm. "Within five days, Mr. Sun will surely arrive safely in the capital and await Your Majesty's summons."

Zhu Youjian waved his hand.

Zhou Quan kowtowed again, then rose silently as he had come, backing away and disappearing into the shadows outside the door.

The Qianqing Palace returned to silence, so quiet that only the crackling of charcoal fires and the steady heartbeat of Zhu Youjian could be heard.

The candlelight on the table flickered slightly in the breeze seeping through the crack in the door, then straightened firmly again. Zhu Youjian picked up the pen that had just been used to write down the fate of the nation and gently placed it on the cold inkstone.

A clear, resounding sound, like the sound of a chess piece being placed; the meaning was already conveyed before the sound faded!
(End of this chapter)