Longcheng, the General Staff Department.
This was a department that ordinary people had never even heard of.
Even many government officials were unaware of its existence.
Only a handful of people and departments had any dealings with this place — certain senior figures in the Security Bureau, and a small number of prison officials among them.
And all were required to maintain absolute secrecy.
"Just as the Master predicted — war draws out human potential to the fullest."
"This piece here is a steel armor developed by the imperial court. It's far weaker than the Dragon Cavalry's armor, but it's no longer completely defenseless."
"The armor itself isn't bad, but the people using it are worthless — sold it off for ten taels of silver apiece, with bulk discounts available. Ha!"
"Indeed, the quality is decent. I hear the Ming Emperor's side has been researching something similar, though I'm not sure how far along they are."
"Meanwhile, the northern barbarians are still in disarray. Word is they're setting up several regent kings to keep the new emperor in check."
"If we don't want them closing the gap on us, we need to develop better armor of our own."
"I'd say it's not so simple. The Wolf Army's strength doesn't rest on armor alone."
"The Master's thinking is: leave the armor as it is, and pour everything into developing cannons — keep shrinking the caliber until it's small enough to hold in one hand."
"There's real promise in that direction. The steel produced using the method the Master provided is remarkable."
"Then let's push that way. The Master is never wrong!"
…
A brief dispatch from the front.
This past summer, the Ming Emperor sent a force of over ten thousand men across the Great River to harass enemy territory in the southern regions.
After roughly half a month, they were routed and crushed by imperial troops sent to meet them.
Those imperial troops numbered barely ten thousand as well — yet they won the engagement with negligible losses.
It was worth remembering that the Ming Emperor's forces had always held a psychological edge over imperial troops.
After all, the imperial court had been chased by them all the way from the northern capital, driven first south of the Great River, then further south still beyond the Dajiang.
They had been herded like rabbits the whole way, and on the several occasions the imperial side had attempted to resist, they had been beaten so thoroughly they didn't know which way was north.
And so this latest result stunned everyone — everyone, that is, except the Ming Emperor, who was decidedly unhappy.
…
Aguda was brought to Longcheng. He knelt on the ground weeping bitterly, repenting with all his might, calling himself a barbarian, a pig, a worm — every degrading thing he could think of.
Gone entirely was the proud bearing he had shown when he first read Mingxin's letter.
He had tried to throw his arms around Jinyi's legs and sob, but was kicked away.
Jinyi felt nothing for this iron-boned son of the steppe. After some discussion, the others decided on permanent imprisonment.
No special treatment — just keep him alive and put him to work contributing to Longcheng's development. If he behaved well, there might be a chance of release before his days were done.
As long as he lived, anyone harboring restless ambitions would think twice before acting.
And Jinyi had other considerations in mind. If the northern barbarians ever stabilized their court, what would happen if they sent Aguda back to them?
…
The Northern Capital.
The great gates of the capital swung open, and a long torrent of iron flowed slowly into the city. Only five hundred cavalry, yet their weight pressed the entire capital into silence.
At the head of the procession rode a flamboyant figure draped in a great crimson cloak, waving cheerfully to the people lining the streets and leaning from their second and third-floor windows.
"Hello, everyone! Thank you all for welcoming me! Thank you!"
Silence all around. On a third-floor balcony, a barbarian glared down, yanking his sword from its scabbard. "This man is outrageous! Let me go down and cut him down!"
The man beside him seized his arm. "Cutting him down is easy enough. Then what?"
"You'd leave the Wolf Army to rampage outside the walls and turn this city into a graveyard?"
"Our soldiers have already had the nerve frightened clean out of them. Ten years, at least — they won't dare face the Wolf Cavalry again for ten years."
"So we just let him strut around? This is our territory!"
"Wait. We must wait for the right moment."
…
"Your humble servant, Wen Zhiyuan, Minister of Rites, presents himself to Young Master Mingxin and welcomes the young master into the city."
The old man was exceedingly polite, bowing deeply at the waist. Mingxin returned a casual clasping of his hands. "Minister Wen, you're too kind, far too kind. I'm only here for a bit of sightseeing — no need for such ceremony, truly."
"By the way, Minister Wen — you're Han, aren't you?"
"Ahem, I — yes, yes I am Han." Minister Wen's expression grew stiff and awkward.
The nerve of this wretch, rubbing salt in the wound right to his face!
"Minister Wen, admirable! Truly admirable!"
The minister grew more aggrieved and flustered, but could only swallow it down, his face flushing crimson — clearly on the verge of some internal injury.
Mingxin leaned in close, his expression perfectly earnest. "Minister Wen, as a Han man who has sacrificed himself to feed the tiger, embedded in the midst of these barbarians, scheming on behalf of our Han people — Mingxin is full of admiration. Full of admiration!"
The minister's face turned even redder. Yet hearing Mingxin speak with such sincerity, he found himself involuntarily thinking — well, when you put it that way, it almost makes sense!
"Ahem, Young Master Mingxin, the regent kings request the pleasure of your company in the palace for a conversation. Would the young master be willing to…"
"Of course. I've been looking forward to meeting the honorable princes and your imperial majesty as well."
"Then please follow me."
The party arrived at the palace gates. Minister Wen glanced uncomfortably back at the five hundred Wolf soldiers bristling with killing intent behind them.
Mingxin waved a hand. "All of you wait here. I'll take a squad inside."
"And if any foul-mouthed fool dares run his mouth, slap him across the face!"
Minister Wen dearly wished to refuse — this was the imperial palace, after all — but in the end he could not summon the courage. The regents had made it clear: so long as his demands were not too outrageous, they were to be indulged.
This request wasn't too outrageous, was it?
Could he not see the barbarian guards at the palace gates were already trembling? What business did a frail old civil official like himself have trying to block them?
And so Mingxin strolled into the imperial palace with his soldiers, smooth as you please.
In the Hall of Supreme Harmony, everyone stood in dead silence. Many of the officials were visibly shaking — whether from fear or fury was hard to say.
Mingxin walked in, glanced around at the rows of stiffly upright courtiers, then tilted his head back to look at the small emperor on the dragon throne above.
A snort. Aguda still had several grown sons — so what was the point of propping up this child of seven or eight? Because a child emperor was easier to control? Ha, how interesting.
And was that a woman behind the curtain over there? Hard to make out — was this a case of ruling from behind the curtain?
Poor little wretch!
Mingxin looked around. No one spoke to him. Were they trying to overawe him from the start?
Ha.
If none of them would move, then he would move himself.
He walked forward at an unhurried pace, passed the first row of officials without slowing, stepped up onto the dais, and walked straight up to stand before the small emperor.
The child trembled with fright.
Below the steps, the assembled ministers gaped — then erupted in furious glares.
Hmph, stare all you like!
"Hey, kid — is this chair hard or not? Mind if I sit for a bit?"
The small emperor stared in shock, then scrambled to his feet in alarm.
Mingxin dropped himself into the dragon throne.
The Hall of Supreme Harmony exploded. Eight Wolf soldiers, still as statues until that moment, simultaneously drew their long blades halfway from their sheaths.
The Hall fell silent again.
Every humiliation once visited upon the Han people — today it was returned, with interest.
Though it seemed, in the process, the imperial court had suffered yet another indignity of its own.