Chapter 114 Knowing full well that this person looked like a piece of jade…
A thoughtful look flashed in Ji Chengnin's eyes.
The so-called barbarian tribes were not a monolithic entity. The tribes in the east, collectively known as Le Rong, were ambitious and had a larger population and stronger fighting power. They had always been eyeing the Central Plains with great ambition, like hungry wolves drooling over fat meat. The current king of the barbarians came from the Le Rong Ti Lan tribe, known in the Central Plains as Ti Lan Wang Yue. The tribes in the west, collectively known as Shuo Jia, were more prone to harassment and robbery and dared not launch large-scale wars. They occasionally did business with the people.
Although Shuojia is not as powerful as Lerong, it occupies an excellent horse farm and is famous for producing fierce horses. The Wind Chaser, which was once very popular among the nobles of Luoyang, was produced in Shuojia.
However, neither of them are good things.
A bright smile suddenly appeared on Ji Chengnin's lips. "Mr. Zhang, does our army have any business dealings with Shuojia?"
Zhang Yuhuai looked embarrassed upon hearing this. Zhou Mufang, fearing he would hold her accountable later, quickly interjected, "Young Marquis, as you know, there are few horse farms in the Central Plains, and the imperial court doesn't care about the Cangzhou army. Ten cavalrymen can't even muster one horse," he chuckled, "so we occasionally exchange horses with Shuojia." The young man, as valiant and agile as a wolf, lowered his head obediently, but then raised his narrow eyes and asked with a grin, "So, Marquis, are you going to hold me accountable later?"
Ji Chengnin also laughed, "You just wait and see, I'll settle accounts with you later, General Zhou."
Zhou Mufang was immediately relieved, raised her hand and made a shushing gesture by tracing a line across her lips.
Zhang Yuhuai was even more bewildered. "General?"
Ji Chengnin did not explain the reason, but only asked with a smile: "May I ask Mr. Zhang, how much food is needed to replace a warhorse?"
Zhang Yuhuai, puzzled, said, "Winter is approaching, and the various tribes of the barbarians are short of food. If we were to use ordinary warhorses, fifteen shi would be enough."
"I see." Ji Chengnin nodded, drawing out his words, and suddenly smiled at Zhang Yuhuai, giving Zhang Yuhuai a very bad feeling—this young marquis had the same expression when he threatened to make him endure the same tortures in the Qinglu Guard if he didn't confess!
“Mr. Zhang,” the young marquis’s smile grew even brighter, “send someone to contact Sawu’s envoy and tell him that we need three hundred horses.”
Zhang Yuhuai was taken aback and immediately objected, "You mustn't, sir."
Even Zhou Mufang and Zhou Qingan showed disapproval on their faces.
Why?
"General, you are unaware that our transactions with Shuojia are all conducted under the guise of merchants from the Central Plains. Each transaction involves only a few dozen horses. While three hundred warhorses may not be a large number for an army, it is certainly not the amount that ordinary merchants would purchase."
Leaving aside how ordinary merchants managed to transport so much grain right under the noses of the Cangzhou army, how were three hundred warhorses transported to the Central Plains, and what use were they? These three hundred warhorses, coupled with armor and weapons, would be enough to arm a small army!
Zhang Yuhuai continued, "This move will surely arouse suspicion among the Shuojia tribes, and may even let the barbarian tribes know about our plan in advance."
Ji Chengnin smiled upon hearing this, "Who said we are ordinary merchants?"
The flickering candlelight cast its glow on Ji Chengnin's face, revealing an almost eerie, bewitching handsomeness.
Zhang Yuhuai was taken aback.
For a moment, he didn't even dare to look Ji Chengnin in the eye.
Zhou Mufang and Ji Chengning grew up together, and she knew that although he looked like a handsome young man, he was actually full of bad intentions.
“We,” Ji Chengning said, fiddling with the wooden carving on the sand table. It was an extremely exquisite and round little red horse, his slender fingers tracing the horse’s round neck, “are the confidants of that lord in the capital.”
Zhang Yuhuai was even more confused. "Which official?"
Zhou Qing'an understood, and looked deeply at Ji Chengning, "That depends on which lord the barbarian tribe thinks we belong to."
...
Half a day later, within the Sawu tribe.
Due to the urgency of the border war, Shuojia also expanded his camp eastward at Tilan Wangyue's request.
As autumn drew to a close, the further one went into the area bordering the Central Plains, the more barren the land became. Years of war had left the land scorched and almost barren.
Autumn grazing is already difficult, and sheep love to dig up grass. The wasteland stretches for miles, with not a single patch of green in sight. The fodder is dwindling day by day, and that scoundrel Tilan Wangyue insists that they set up camp to the east. Tilan Wangyue can ask the tribes below for grain and cattle and sheep, but what about them?
The more the young prince of the Sawu tribe thought about it, the more indignant he became. He frowned and listened to his subordinate Suwua's report in a daze.
His subordinates, who were usually quite agreeable, were now nagging him incessantly, which annoyed him.
"Click".
The wine glass was gently placed beside him.
Sawulanhe suddenly looked up, and the female slave serving the wine was startled and hurriedly bowed down.
Sawulanhe pinched the female slave's face, and her fair face quickly turned red and then purple under the rough pressure of his fingers. She endured the pain and cried out, her beautiful eyes filled with tears.
“Change to three hundred horses,” Sawulanhe said ominously, his deep blue eyes flickering coldly in the candlelight. He released her and shoved her forward impatiently. The female slave stumbled and fell to the ground, kneeling trembling at his feet. “It’s not a large sum. Is such a trivial matter worth bothering me with?”
"Clang!"
With an impatient kick, the long-legged man caused the entire table to shake violently, and the cups and plates on it clattered and crashed together.
The entire tent was eerily silent.
Suwua thought to himself, "This is bad."
Because the First Prince has been holding meetings in the royal tent every day lately, the Young Prince is unhappy and his patience is even worse than usual.
Sawulanhe grew increasingly impatient, grabbed the female slave's slender wrist, and pressed her down onto his thigh.
The female slave sat in his lap, her soft, boneless hands resting on his chest, her voice trembling as she comforted him, "Your Highness."
Su Wu'a knelt down with a thud, hurriedly taking out a letter from his bosom and presenting it to the prince. "If it were only three hundred horses, I would not dare to bother Your Highness even if I had ten thousand lives. But I saw that the group of people were very well-organized and obeyed orders. I think they could not be ordinary merchants from the Central Plains. I stole them when they were not paying attention."
Sawulanhe frowned, and immediately a servant stepped forward, grabbed the letter, and crawled on his knees to present it to him.
Sawulanhe unfolded the letter, his brows furrowing even more, and kicked the servant kneeling beside him. "This thing is entirely in Central Plains language, Suwua, are you mocking me, Your Highness?!"
The servant let out a muffled groan.
Su Wu'a hurriedly stepped forward. "Your Highness, please take a look," he said, carefully pointing to a corner of the letter. "There is a pattern on it that is a dragon pattern from the Central Plains. Although I do not understand the Central Plains script, I know that this thing must have a significant origin."
Sawulanhe frowned. "Call someone who understands the Central Plains language."
The slaves inside the tent were overjoyed at being granted a pardon and hurriedly ran out.
Before long, a middle-aged man dressed as a scholar walked in. He had a fair complexion and a long beard. Although he was dressed in a narrow barbarian outfit and wore a wool felt hat, he still couldn't hide his scholarly air.
“Mr. Zhang,” Sarenlanhe was noticeably more polite to the man in front of him, though his sharp brows still betrayed a barely suppressed anger, “Take a look at what’s written in this letter.”
Mr. Zhang replied respectfully, "Yes."
Mr. Zhang read the letter with great care, but also quite quickly. Before long, he had fluently translated the contents of the letter into a foreign language.
It seems that His Highness was satisfied with the fine horses you transported before, but His Highness still needs two thousand more horses. This matter must be handled quickly. Shuojia has fine horses, but if the number is insufficient, we can disguise ourselves and exchange them with Lerong. The lord has prepared 30,000 shi of grain for this purpose. If we can exchange them for enough horses, we can transport them to Zhangzhou along the previous route.
Alternatively, you may seek out armor; if armor cannot be found, wrought iron will suffice, and it should still be transported to Zhangzhou via the old route.
Sawulanhe sat up straight, his expression becoming serious.
Those so-called Central Plains merchants have already exchanged three hundred horses from them, and they still want two thousand more. They are also looking for armor, clearly indicating that they want to arm their cavalry. What kind of place can support more than two thousand cavalry? It's nothing more than an army!
Cangzhou Army?
No, that's impossible.
Firstly, the Cangzhou army did not have enough food. As a long-time adversary, Sawulanhe certainly knew how little the Central Plains court cared about the Cangzhou army. Although it was nominally a regular army, it was actually dirt poor.
Moreover, even if they had the supplies, the Cangzhou army wouldn't dare exchange 30,000 jin of grain for them. That would be tantamount to raising a tiger to cause trouble, and that old geezer Zhou Qing'an isn't that foolish.
Since both military horses and armor were needed, Sawulanh pondered, and suddenly an idea flashed through his mind.
Suwua exclaimed in shock, "This so-called lord is plotting a rebellion!"
"Crunch."
The letter creaked in Sawulanh's hands. "Treason? Isn't that a good thing?"
According to Sawulanhe, this man was very likely a prince from the Central Plains. He had long heard that the emperor of the Central Plains had several troublesome sons, which his father had once laughed at. A ferocious look flashed across Sawulanhe's handsome face. His father was just making it sound nice, but he still let that bastard son born to Sawuzhen, that female slave, get involved in important military and political affairs, and even neglected him, the son born to his principal wife.
But regardless of whether it was a prince's rebellion or not, as long as someone harbored disloyal intentions, the Central Plains would only become more chaotic, which would be a great thing for them. Sawulanhe suddenly said, "I have heard that the emperor of the Central Plains is incompetent. It is Heaven's will that the old lion is bitten in the throat by the young lion."
Everyone inside the tent was startled and lowered their heads, pretending they hadn't heard such treasonous words.
Sawulanhe sneered.
He stared intently at the letter, not recognizing the words, yet feeling as if the black dots on it represented millions of pounds of grain.
Thirty thousand bushels of grain is enough to feed an army of fifty thousand men for a month!
Sawulanhe was calculating in his mind, a strong sense of excitement flashing across his face.
Because of Tilan Wangyue's relentless pressure, the various tribes of Shuojia were also preparing for war—they had to be wary of both the Cangzhou army and the ruthless madmen of the Lerong tribes who might suddenly launch an attack.
After all, the grasslands have always been ruled by the strong, and it's perfectly normal for sheep to be eaten by wolves.
Although they have powerful warriors, winter is coming and their provisions are still insufficient. The king has been worrying about this for a long time.
If this matter can be resolved, his father will definitely think more highly of him. No, no, if he can get those provisions, his maternal grandfather's troops will definitely obey him. His maternal grandfather has long wanted to protect him, but he was troubled because he did not have any benefits in the army. If this matter is accomplished, who will dare to say that Sawulanhe is a good-for-nothing who only knows how to drink, play with women, and take his anger out on slaves?
Sawulanhe became more and more excited as he thought about it.
He didn't have two thousand horses, but he could borrow them temporarily.
As for whether to return it or not, whether to give it or not, at that point, it won't all be up to him to decide.
“You’ve done very well.” Sawulanh’s voice was hoarse as he looked at Suu’a with satisfaction. “If things go well, I will reward you handsomely.”
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A note from the author: I went to Jingwei to change my medication and have been in a coma for the past few days. I'm currently adjusting, so please bear with me.
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