Chapter 937 – Rabbit and Sheep Poison Strategy (Part Ten)
Sun Wen and Jiang Pengji are like two little grasshoppers on the same rope; they’re good only when the other is good.
Putting aside all these matters, the Northern Border tribes are still foreign entities.
If they were to rule over the Central Plains, it would be disastrous—the common folk would suffer, and the Han people would be in peril.
Don’t be fooled by the likes of Wu Libai, who reveres Han culture; he’s but one of the few. The majority of the Northern Border tribes maintain a fierce aggressiveness and destructiveness, far surpassing their ability to protect or develop civilization. Even Wu Libai—studying Han culture merely to comprehend its strengths and weaknesses—is trying to invade the Central Plains using Han culture to occupy fertile lands.
What might happen if such foreign tribes were to invade the Central Plains? History has already provided an answer.
Let’s not look too far; just consider recent history.
The Southern Barbarians’ four tribes and the three Northern Border tribes are all foreign peoples. After the former conquered Nansheng, the land was left barren everywhere they went.
Brutal slaughter, wanton looting, and unspeakable atrocities—nothing was spared.
The bloody tactics of invasion have sparked resistance and disgust among the Han people of the Central Plains.
We absolutely cannot allow a repeat of the Southern Barbarians’ experiences in Dongqing!
Sun Wen lowered his gaze, concealing the fierce glint and deep thoughts in his eyes.
Wei Ci told him what to do next, but didn’t detail the steps; he still needed to plan for himself.
“The Northern Border King has nine sons; which one should I choose?”
Choosing wasn’t hard; the challenge lay in making sure the nine princes fought evenly, ensuring they splintered the Northern Border into pieces.
“The Eldest Prince lost his mother at a young age. Although he is the eldest, his nature is violent and debauched, even finding amusement in killing Han slaves for entertainment.”
Sun Wen wrote a “Big” on expensive rice paper, then quickly crossed it out.
Encouraging Halencha to support the Eldest Prince? Even a fool like Halencha wouldn’t fall for that.
Why? Because the Eldest Prince is like a pile of mud that can’t hold up a wall; even though he was smart in his youth, he’s grown exceedingly foolish in recent years.
“The Second Prince, brave in battle, has a powerful maternal clan; supporting him might backfire and be unwise.”
Sun Wen wrote down “Two,” briefly listing his pros and cons, and easily crossed it out.
“The Third Prince is close to Wu Libai, shamelessly calling him Master to learn Han culture.”
Sun Wen pondered. He’d seen this Third Prince from afar; he appeared mellow, yet ambition brewed in his brows. Supporting this guy would just create another Wu Libai, making things harder for the Lord. So, this one was out too.
“The Fourth Prince is born of a female slave, of low status and bloodline, yet has been adopted by the Northern Border Queen, making him somewhat connected to a powerful family. However, since the Queen’s sister gave birth to the Sixth Prince, the Fourth Prince would surely be a stepping stone for the Sixth Prince. This could be considered. Furthermore, he could stir up a rivalry with the Sixth Prince. It’s worth a thought.”
Sun Wen dismissed three princes and found the Fourth one somewhat interesting.
He continued counting; the Fifth Prince and Third Prince are biological brothers, but the two clearly have different goals, secretly undermining each other.
The Sixth Prince is the son of the current Queen’s younger sister, and holds the highest status among the nine princes.
In other words, besides the army-backed Second Prince, the Sixth Prince is the most likely candidate for the Northern Border throne.
The Seventh Prince is closely tied to the Northern Border commerce, benefiting from his maternal clan, making a fair amount of money.
Not a worry; this guy is too cozy with the Eighth and Ninth Princes.
Though not full-brothers, the Seventh Prince treats the Eighth Prince wholeheartedly, offering money and support.
For now, these two can be considered allies.
As for the Ninth Prince, he shares the same mother as the Fourth Prince but hasn’t been adopted by the Queen and holds a very low status.
Sun Wen analyzed the situation of the Northern Border King’s nine princes, forming a rough plan in his mind.
To be on the safe side, he planned a scheme within a scheme.
On the surface, support the Fourth Prince while secretly backing the Ninth Prince, using the Fourth Prince to eliminate the other princes one by one, before having the Ninth Prince deal with the Fourth Prince. As for how to remove the other Northern Border princes aside from these two, he would need to think keenly.
Ideally, he could hit multiple birds with one stone—not directly killing the Northern Border princes but inciting further conflict with the Northern Border King.
Then—
Hehe, that would be a spectacle to witness.
With a straight face, Sun Wen burned the expensive but useless rice paper in the candlelight, erasing all traces.
“Zixiao, oh Zixiao—you must remember your promise, or else my plan will go to waste.”
Sun Wen found his timing of entry into this world rather awkward.
If he had been a bit earlier, he and the Lord could have built a bond through hardship.
If he were a bit later, he could have enjoyed the spoils.
Even if unable to be prominent, Sun Wen had no ambition; he merely wanted a place to settle.
But at this time—
The Lord was preparing for war against the Northern Border. Although odds seemed favorable, victory wasn’t guaranteed.
What if they lost?
His grandchild was still in Wanzhou.
Sun Wen could not afford to gamble.
Thus, he must give his all, risking his life to help Jiang Pengji.
Images of his adorable little grandson filled his mind, softening his hardened heart momentarily before it steeled once more.
The Northern Border must be exterminated!
Just when Sun Wen was stirring up trouble in the Northern Border, Jiang Pengji and others were snacking in the military tent.
Not on watermelons; she was roasting sweet potatoes and yams.
“Uncle Gu, where have you been doing business these years?”
Jiang Pengji tossed the sweet potatoes and yams into the fire per the audience’s advice and turned to ask the worn-looking Gu Xin beside her.
Gu Xin had traveled north and south for trade, often taking half a year just to send a letter back; Jiang Pengji could hardly pinpoint where he had been.
Gu Xin chuckled, “I’ve been to Beiyuan, Xichang, and Shalan Country. The yams were found on the Xichang border, while the sweet potatoes came from Shalan Country. The Old Woman asked the locals and finally managed to bring back their seedlings, just wanting to let the young lady taste something fresh.”
Wei Ci remained silent.
In the previous life, when Jiang Zhao was established, the nation flourished, and emissaries came from all directions.
The smaller neighboring countries often brought various gifts to please the Emperor.
Jiang Zhao’s officials were not to be outdone.
Sweet potatoes and yams were offerings from that time.
However, these small items almost sparked a bloody massacre.
The sweet potatoes appeared on the Xichang border; locals chopped them up to feed pigs and had never tasted them themselves. To them, these were not meant for people to eat, only suitable for livestock. Likewise, yams were food for the poor in Shalan Country, deemed lowly wild fare.
Yet these two humble foods were served as dishes at the royal banquet, and just as she enjoyed the first few bites, someone stood up to reveal the truth. Wei Ci still recalled that moment of complete silence, everyone dripping sweat and trembling in shock.
Who brought pig feed and food for the lowborn onto the Emperor’s table?
Is this mocking or shaming?
