Chapter 68 : The Rustic Song Ended in Desolate Reflection
Word Number：406
Author：闲穿径竹
Translator：
Release Time：2025-06-27
At the next morning’s court, Li Mi faithfully presented the strategy proposed by Yang Muzhi to Emperor Suzong. His Majesty listened in silence, eyes half-lowered in thought, his fingers gently tracing the armrest of the Dragon Throne. After a long pause, the Emperor murmured inwardly: “The edict of the retired sovereign still lingers in my mind: ‘Once the capital is reclaimed, I shall retreat into quietude, turn my heart away from affairs of state, and dwell as the reclusive sages once did by Lake Dinghu.’ If I am to inherit the Mandate in earnest and command the allegiance of the realm’s princes, then the twin capitals must first be restored. For without rightful title, there can be no authority in speech; and without authority in speech, no deed shall come to fruition. Only through the reconquest of Chang’an and Luoyang may I raise a righteous army with the legitimacy to lead.” And thus, despite the soundness of Yang Muzhi’s plan, the Emperor set it aside. After court was dismissed, Li Mi sought out Yang Muzhi and conveyed the Emperor’s decision not to adopt the plan. Yang lifted his gaze, and though a faint shadow of disappointment flickered behind his eyes, his voice remained calm and clear as moonlight over still water. “First, the rebel forces entrenched in the twin capitals are the enemy’s most seasoned troops. To fight them head-on is to wound a thousand only by losing eight hundred of our own—a bitter arithmetic. Second, should we provoke a full withdrawal, the rebels will retreat with ample supplies at their backs, while we, stretched thin over distant terrain, must ferry grain across mountains and rivers. Such a burden defies the art of war. Third, if we lay siege to their strongholds and fail to take them swiftly, we shall grant the rebels time to dig deep into their bastions. In years to come, the Tang realm may find itself splintered, its authority undermined by warlords ruling from their private fiefs. So then—what is to be done?” That night, sleep eluded Yang Muzhi. He sat alone by lamplight, weighed down by a restless melancholy. The Emperor had set aside his counsel—war, he feared, would now drag on for years. He thought of the realm, fractured and bleeding, of broken cities and wandering souls. And amid the ruins of empire, his thoughts turned to Lady Li—the twelfth
This is a paid novel, please pay
24 coin
24 coin