Chapter 1641 – Seizing Nan Sheng and Killing An Huan (51)
Zheng Hao was so full of confidence that his brainless advisors, who loved to flatter him, couldn’t help but boast excessively. They shared his unfounded optimism.
Or perhaps, it was because they had never witnessed the terrifying combination of Qi Guanrang and Sun Wen and had no concrete understanding of their capabilities.
Those advisors who refused to flatter and retained some rationality naturally did not support Zheng Hao’s ideas.
Didn’t Zheng Hao check the opponent’s record before gambling with a tiger’s skin?
Let’s not even mention Qi Guanrang. His presence might be low-key, but if one were to lay out his past deeds, it would send chills down the spine.
And what about Sun Wen?
Sun Wen’s presence was far stronger than Qi Guanrang’s. Not to mention the unfortunate souls in the North Border—let’s look at recent examples where Jiang Ji led Nie Liang to disaster, and Sun Wen played a significant role in the negotiations. Such a person who could quietly scheme the enemy’s downfall—who would be foolish enough to see Sun Wen as just an ordinary old man? The fighting power of these two combined wasn’t just simple addition.
However, gamblers never want to listen to words that go against their interests.
Zheng Hao was that gambler, convinced he could gnaw off a large piece of meat from the hands of the cheating dealer.
A discerning eye could see Zheng Hao was nothing but a fat sheep waiting to be butchered by the dealer, but those already in the game would never think that way.
Anyone who tried to stop them from betting was merely a class enemy hindering their chance to get rich overnight!
Thus, a few rare rational advisors’ suggestions were cast aside by Zheng Hao.
With more people than less, their advice didn’t create much of a ripple.
Once Zheng Hao tasted the benefits of this gamble, he cared even less for the “bitter truth” from his advisors.
“Haha, it’s rare; even that young pup Nie Qing has moments of being soft-spoken!”
Zheng Hao flipped over the letter from Nie Qing and stroked his beard, revealing a somewhat triumphant smile.
When Nie Liang, Nie Qing’s father, was alive, Zheng Hao always feared facing repercussions from him. For years, he had been on edge, trying to please Nie Liang by employing a roundabout diplomatic strategy, buttering up Nie Liang’s relatives, such as that little brat Nie Qing.
In terms of age, he was a whole ten years older than Nie Liang.
When it came to hierarchy, he was a generation above Nie Liang, being of the same generation as Nie Liang’s father, rather like Nie Qing’s grandfather.
Years ago, when Nie Qing got married, Zheng Hao eagerly sent him a generous gift, only to receive two letters in return.
One was a standard thank-you note, extremely formal, clearly written by someone else without an ounce of sincerity.
The other was a personally penned letter from Nie Qing, which left Zheng Hao fuming.
In that letter, Nie Qing subtly pointed out that Zheng Hao, as a local county magistrate, should focus on the livelihood and welfare of the common people instead of lining his own pockets at their expense, and then went on to confiscate the entire value of the generous gift he had sent.
Upon learning of Nie Qing’s actions, Zheng Hao was infuriated, privately cursing him as a hypocritical moralizer.
Why did he curse him like that?
Nie Liang, Nie Qing’s father, was notorious for being ruthless, even to his relatives. In the shadows, he engaged in unethical dealings to build his power and seize control of the Nie Clan—he was far more brutal and underhanded than Zheng Hao! Given that Nie Liang was such a supposed paragon of virtue, he shouldn’t have taken the moral high ground and be the first to slap his dad in the face. Instead, it was Zheng Hao who ended up being indirectly mocked.
Comparing himself to Nie Liang and then looking at Nie Qing’s “hypocritical” behavior, Zheng Hao held a grudge against Nie Qing.
He had kindly gifted him a lavish present, only to be scolded for sending it through dubious means—what a toxic situation!
Now the tides had turned, and Zheng Hao was feeling pleased with himself.
After mocking, he picked up the overturned letter again, reading each word as if savoring that delightful taste.
“General, do you think Nie Qing will catch on?”
Zheng Hao replied rhetorically, “Catch on to what? Even if he realizes it, what’s the worst that could happen? Without his father’s protection and without Wei’s schemes, Nie Qing is just a puppy weaned too soon. What can he do, bark at me? Can he really bite hard enough to hurt me?”
The implication was clear: Zheng Hao had no regard for Nie Qing.
All the weapons Nie Liang had left for him were stripped clean by Jiang Ji, so what kind of storm could this little fierce pup stir up?
An advisor voiced concerns, “Nie Qing might not be a problem, but if he reveals that the General is secretly colluding with Liu Xi…”
Among the aristocracy, there exists a hierarchy of disdain.
Since Zhong Zhao was once the mightiest state of the five nations, the aristocrats harbored an inexplicable superiority complex.
Dongqing, being at the lower end of that contempt chain, had a neutral yet slightly dismissive attitude toward Jiang Ji. Plus, given that Jiang Ji had killed many of Nie Liang’s elite commanders—who mostly had ties to the Zhong Zhao aristocrats—old grievances added more fuel to their dislike.
To put it lightly, Zheng Hao’s actions could be seen as treasonous.
To put it more harshly, Zheng Hao was an outright traitor, destined to face collective retaliation from Zhong Zhao’s aristocrats.
Zheng Hao had considered this, yet in the face of profit, what was a mere crisis?
Furthermore,
“Hmph, don’t worry. That little brat Nie Qing won’t spill because he has no evidence.” Zheng Hao said confidently, “That kid of Nie Liang’s doesn’t resemble him at all. Nie Qing is meticulous and rigid—he won’t freely slander anyone without solid proof. I’m being careful with my dealings with Dongqing, leaving no traces, so even if Nie Qing wanted to scold me, he wouldn’t be able to…”
An advisor responded, “Nie Qing’s temperament does seem…”
Not that Nie Qing was too naive—it was just that his mindset was different from those of warlords in chaotic times; he was more of a “gentleman.”
If he were in peaceful times, it was only a matter of time before Nie Qing became a renowned figure under the banner of righteousness.
It could be said that he was simply born at the wrong time; he shouldn’t have lived in such turbulent times.
The advisors suggested that Nie Qing take the initiative and label the disrespectful Zheng Hao as a rebel.
Using the strategy of leveraging strength against strength, they could make Zheng Hao a target for criticism, curtailing his rise.
Whether Zheng Hao was truly treasonous or just pretending to be, they needed to teach him a lesson to let him know to tone down his arrogance, but Nie Qing remained indecisive.
He had his own thoughts.
“If I manage to frame Zheng Hao unfairly, that could undermine the trust in our alliance.” Nie Qing sighed, “Since the battle at Zhanjiang Pass, everyone has been terrified of Liu Xi, losing faith in resistance. It took a while to recover some morale, and if I were to smear our own alliance as colluding with the enemy now, who knows what others would think? Fear would spread, scattering the gathered support into disarray.”
The advisors leaned toward a more aggressive stance, focusing on how to suppress Zheng Hao’s rise and arrogance, paying little mind to the possibility of slander. Nie Qing’s focus, however, was on the “potential irreversible consequences” of wrongfully slandering Zheng Hao.
Both of their viewpoints were valid, but it was clear that Nie Qing still held to his “righteous” ideals too firmly.
