Xijing, a side hall of the emperor's temporary palace.
Although it is called "Imperial Palace", it is actually just a slightly renovated former imperial palace.
Compared to the magnificent imperial palace in the capital, it appeared rather cramped and shabby.
The hall was dimly lit and filled with a mixture of old sandalwood and medicinal scents.
Yinji entered the hall and bowed to the middle-aged man on the throne, who was dressed in an ochre-yellow robe and had a pale, puffy face: "Your subject greets Your Majesty."
This person was none other than Yin Zhao, the nominal emperor of the Great Yin Dynasty.
The hasty and bloody palace coup a year ago propelled him to the throne, but the ensuing invasion by the Northern Barbarians and the unequal treaties cemented his place in shame.
He fled to Jinzhou, then to Jinyang, and finally to Xijing. He was already a frightened bird, holding only the title of emperor while real power was in the hands of Prince Yinji of Jin and Zhao Muyun.
"Ji'er is here, please sit down."
Yin Zhao's voice was somewhat hoarse, with a deliberately feigned gentleness, "Any new news from the front lines? Is everything going well for Minister Zhao in Wannian?"
Yinji sat down on the brocade bench beside him, his expression calm: "Your Majesty, I have just received a military report. Yang Chao has repelled Zhang Tao's vanguard, Sun Han, and won a minor victory. The Grand Commander is currently overseeing the situation in Wannian, and the situation has temporarily stabilized."
"A narrow victory? Zhang Tao's main force remains intact; a bigger storm is likely yet to come."
Yin Zhao coughed lightly twice, his cloudy eyes scrutinizing Yin Ji. "Minister Zhao... truly a pillar of the nation. However, with such a large army at his disposal, constantly traveling between Hedong and Xijing, strategizing and winning battles from afar, isn't the burden on his shoulders a bit too heavy?"
"Ji'er, as the regent, you should be more considerate of him and not let him work too hard, so that... his power becomes too great and attracts criticism."
Yinji lowered his eyelids slightly: "Your Majesty's concern is appreciated by your nephew on behalf of my master. All that my master has done is for the sake of our Great Yin Dynasty, devoting himself to the cause until his dying breath. I'm sure he won't take any of this hardship to heart."
"The nation and its people..."
Yin Zhao repeated these four words, his fingers unconsciously stroking the armrest. "This empire ultimately belongs to the Yin family. I know that you and Minister Zhao have a deep teacher-student relationship, and you rely on him for support."
"But since ancient times, powerful ministers from outside the imperial family have... Alas, I am only thinking of you. Recently, there seem to be some rumors circulating in Xijing, saying something like 'Zhao Gong holds up the sky, the Yin family is about to collapse,' and there are also some unfounded prophecies and nursery rhymes..."
"Has Ji'er heard of this?"
Yinji suddenly looked up, his gaze sharp as he looked at Yinzhao: "Your Majesty has also heard these things? Your Majesty, I was just about to ask you, where did these rumors that are bewitching people and sowing discord between the ruler and his ministers originate?"
"Could it be the work of Li Jingang's spies? Or..." He paused, his tone turning cold, "or perhaps someone in Xijing City is restless and wants to learn that trick of sowing discord?"
Yin Zhao's expression changed, and he forced a smile, saying, "What do you mean by this, Ji'er? I have been living in the deep palace for so long, how would I know where the rumors from the outside world originated?"
"I am merely reminding you that one should always be wary of others! Zhao Muyun's prestige is growing daily, and he holds military power. His generals only know of Grand Commander Zhao, and are unaware of the Yin family."
"If this continues, it will not be a blessing for the nation! I have been through it all, and I have seen too much! This empire must not be allowed to change hands!"
"Your Majesty!" Yinji suddenly stood up, his voice suppressing his anger, "If it weren't for the Grand Commander's efforts to turn the tide, Hedong would have already fallen, and Xijing would have been difficult to recover. You and I, as ruler and subject, probably wouldn't even have the chance to speak here!"
"With a formidable enemy at hand, Li Jingang sharpening his sword, and Yang Chao's rebellion affecting the entire situation, it is time for everyone to unite and fight against the foreign aggression!"
"Your Majesty does not think about how to boost morale and restore order to the country, but instead listens to rumors and suspects meritorious officials. What is the reason for this?"
He took a deep breath and looked directly at Yin Zhao: "Whether those rumors were spread by His Majesty or not, I do not wish to delve into it."
"But please remember, Your Majesty, if Master harbored any disloyal intentions, why wait until today?"
"This capital city was won by my master! This situation was saved by my master! Your Majesty, please do not destroy our own Great Wall and chill the hearts of our soldiers!"
After saying this, Yinji bowed deeply, no longer looking at Yinzhao's flushed and pale face, and turned to leave.
As he reached the palace gate, Yin Zhao's voice, filled with exasperation and a final warning, came from behind him: "Yin Ji! You... you'd better watch yourself! Don't forget, your surname is Yin! This empire belongs to the Yin family!"
Yinji did not stop walking and went straight out of the palace.
The sunlight was a bit too bright, so he squinted, but his heart felt icy cold.
The emperor's suspicions never ceased, and even intensified at this time.
He clenched his fist, then slowly relaxed it.
Right now, maintaining overall stability is more important than anything else.
...
The night was as dark as ink, but Zhang Tao's camp, located thirty miles southeast of Wannian, was brightly lit.
The camp was built along the mountainside, with wooden fences deeply embedded in the frozen ground. The sentries on the watchtowers were wrapped tightly in fur coats in the cold wind, their eyes scanning the dark plains like those of hawks.
Inside the central command tent, the tallow torches crackled, casting long, distorted shadows of the dozen or so generals onto the rough tent cloth.
The air was thick with the smells of sweat and leather, and a sense of oppressive anxiety.
Zhang Tao stood before a huge cowhide map, his armor still on, the lion-head saddle on his shoulder gleaming coldly in the firelight.
He was over forty years old, his face etched with deep lines, and a scar on his right cheek ran diagonally from his cheekbone to his jaw, a mark left from his suppression of bandits in Henan.
At this moment, he gripped the sword hilt, his brow furrowed.
"You know everything?" His hoarse voice broke the suffocating silence in the tent.
The generals nodded silently.
The detailed battle report of Sun Han's defeat two hours later was already known to everyone.
"The oil tank was raging and ignited upon contact with the ground, with the fire spreading for three zhang (approximately 10 meters) without being extinguished."
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