The Demon Lords-Chapter 785 - 172: Fall into My Trap_2

"Master Mao, do you think that Great Yan can continue this war?"

Although the terms offered by Chu State were very generous, letting the nearly forty thousand Blue Luan troops return home felt rather galling—not to mention the series of problems this might cause—even from a purely personal standpoint.

Mao Mingcai, the Minister of War, rose and replied, "In response to Your Highness, now that Prince Jingnan has mobilized all his forces from the Three Jin, he has, in essence, prepared for an all-out war with Chu State. However..."

The Crown Prince nodded and said, "It’s best not to fight if it can be avoided, is that it?"

"Indeed, Your Highness. The soldiers are weary. Continuing this war would be an ordeal for both the state and the army. Prince Jingnan, when deploying troops, is typically as immovable as a mountain, but when he acts, it’s with the sudden force of a thunderclap. Now, however, adopting such a posture to pressure others is not Prince Jingnan’s usual style of warfare. It suggests that Prince Jingnan also understands that ceasing hostilities now is the most advantageous outcome for our Great Yan."

"I understand. Elder Ning, regarding the protocol for the state communiqué and other such details, I must trouble you to oversee them meticulously. Ensure there are no lapses in etiquette. Also, have Honglu Temple inform the Qian State envoy that they are nearly three years in arrears with their annual tributes."

The Crown Prince then turned to Hsu Guanghuai, Minister of Revenue, and said, "Qian State must not only pay the arrears of tribute from the past three years, but the amount itself also needs to be revised. At the very least, it must not be less than that of the Chu people. Let’s treat these two matters as one and deal with them together."

"Your ministers obey the command."

"Your ministers obey the command."

Before the war between the three states began, tensions were already high along the border between Yan and Qian. Consequently, Qian State failed to deliver its annual tribute that year. Later, when hostilities erupted, the Yan Army invaded Qian State, which mounted a desperate defense. Even after that conflict, the two states technically remained in a ’state of war.’ Although the Qian people made no move northwards after the Yan people withdrew their forces, and an outward ’calm’ soon returned between the two states, the formal ’state of war’ was never rescinded.

Now, seizing the opportunity of negotiating peace with the Chu people, the idea is to pull Qian State into the discussions as well, so everyone can talk together and, while we’re at it, sign a new peace treaty. Great Yan needs to rest and recuperate. So, this opportunity should be seized. If one is to be strong-armed, one might as well strong-arm two. It’s practically a windfall, and why refuse a windfall?

This was not the Yan Emperor’s idea, but the Crown Prince’s. This also reveals the Crown Prince’s own decisiveness and ability.

"By the way, Minister Hsu, how has Ji Chengjue been doing in your Ministry of Revenue recently?"

His Imperial Father had sent him to the Ministry of Revenue, ostensibly for an observational role—a task that, given his status as the Sixth Prince, could be interpreted as either minor or significant. And the Ministry of Revenue was Hsu Guanghuai’s domain. In the Crown Prince’s view, this Minister of Revenue was not one of his own men, yet a considerable tacit understanding existed between them. This was especially true regarding the matter of ceasing hostilities and recuperating, on which their views aligned. Though to forget war is to invite danger, to be too fond of war is to invite chaos. Great Yan’s ascendancy was now established; it was time to manage affairs well, convert this dominant position into tangible strength, and aim for stability.

"In reply to Your Highness, the Sixth Prince has been rather idle at the Ministry of Revenue these days, spending his time drinking and making merry with colleagues."

Hearing this, the Crown Prince shook his head and said, "Ji Chengjue is young and of a rather idle disposition. As his elder brother, I must trouble Minister Hsu to be patient with him and offer more guidance."

As he spoke, the Crown Prince rose and bowed deeply to Hsu Guanghuai. Hsu Guanghuai immediately rose and knelt respectfully in return.

Ning Fangsheng, the Minister of Rites, stroked his long beard and smiled. He was pleased with the Crown Prince, who possessed the demeanor of an heir apparent and the bearing of a future sovereign.

Mao Mingcai remained as still as a mountain, silently reopening a dossier.

Was it truly profound brotherly affection? Not entirely.

The Eldest Prince, defeated in battle, was due to return. Rumor had it he would marry a barbarian princess, thereby eliminating any possibility of his contending for the throne.

The Third Prince spent his days at the lakeside pavilion: enjoying the spring breeze, listening to summer thunder, observing autumn leaves, and admiring winter snow. His life had been reduced to that pavilion and the endlessly cycling seasons.

With the decline of the Deng Family, the Fourth Prince lost his greatest support. The Yan Emperor’s military reforms swept away the power of regional military commanders, leaving the Fourth Prince like a kite with broken wings.

The Fifth Prince disliked going out, preferring to stay home and engage in carpentry. Despite being rebuked by the Yan Emperor for this on several occasions, he obstinately continued his ways.

The Seventh Prince was too young. Moreover, Great Yan was not a state where a weak monarch could be propped up by powerful ministers, making it very difficult for the Seventh Prince to ever reach that position.

Taking all this into account, aside from the Sixth Prince who had recently surfaced at the Ministry of Revenue, His Highness the Crown Prince effectively had no rivals left.

In the struggle to seize the throne, there is never a path of retreat. Even the slightest inkling of ambition, when the final accounts were settled, would be considered a monumental transgression.

Who among those capable of attaining the rank of Minister was not a shrewd veteran who had clawed their way through the treacherous battlefield of officialdom? Even Minister Hsu Guanghuai, who had been so moved as to kneel in reciprocation, how could he not understand the Crown Prince’s underlying meaning?

But such was the grand scheme, such was the level of play; even if something started as pretense, if played out long enough, it could become real. It was this quality of the Crown Prince—reserved yet possessing an undeniable edge—that these veteran ministers most approved of. With such an heir apparent as the foundation of the state, the future was indeed promising.

At their echelon, there was no need to pledge fealty to any particular faction or act as anyone’s lackey. Apart from the Yan Emperor, no one could truly control them. Therefore, what they valued most was compatibility in political agendas. If your agenda aligned with theirs, they would support you.