Chapter Sixty-Eight: Strike First to Gain the Upper Hand

The carriage traveled northward, passing through Xuzhou, Daming Prefecture, and finally arriving at Taiyuan Prefecture. Not long after leaving Yangzhou, news arrived from Bianliang: the Liao Kingdom would send representatives to meet Zhao Yu in Taiyuan.

The route was not chosen by Zhao Yu, but was set by Qin Xi, who sent men to lead the way ahead. He himself followed behind with five hundred Imperial Guards, ostensibly for protection, but clearly to prevent Zhao Yu from escaping.

This young man had obviously been intimidated; as long as Zhao Yu and his group followed the prescribed route, Qin Xi scarcely interfered.

Yet Zhao Yu had never intended to flee. He had long wished to leave the capital, though he had not expected to depart in such a fashion.

Arrangements had already been made in the capital. As for Jiang the Elder and the others, whether they would remain as loyal to Zhao Yu as before would be proven only with time.

Before nightfall, the party barely made it into Xuzhou before the city gates closed.

Yan Qing found an inn, and just as they settled in, a Taoist entered—the very same Gongsun Sheng who had departed earlier.

“Your Highness, I have brought what you requested.”

Though they were under surveillance, Zhao Yu acted as he pleased, utterly unconcerned. As he often said, things had reached this point—what was there left to fear?

“Excellent! Come, let’s talk inside.”

Zhao Yu warmly pulled Gongsun Sheng into the room, saying as they walked, “I’ve told you, just call me brother. Besides, I am now a commoner; if you address me as ‘Your Highness’ and someone overhears, it could easily become a minor offense—unless you wish me harm.”

“Your Highness’s dignity is beyond compare; your current misfortune is but temporary. Moreover, the Red Phoenix star shines above your head—a sign of imminent joy.”

“Haha! Everyone knows Brother Gongsun is a miracle worker; no need to flaunt your talents!”

Gongsun Sheng smiled faintly and did not argue further.

As they conversed, the two entered the inner room. Zhao Yu asked Xiu Xiu and Wan Yu to step outside, then took a small bundle from Gongsun Sheng’s hand.

“As you instructed, I repeatedly experimented, but the results do not seem as promising as you claimed.”

Zhao Yu smiled slightly. “Never underestimate this device, Master. It will surely shape the future of warfare.”

Originating in the Tang dynasty and spreading further in the Song, its applications had broadened. The military used arrows, thunderbombs, and sky-shaking thunder weapons, but limited by craftsmanship and mindset, its true power had yet to be fully harnessed.

Gongsun Sheng had brought Zhao Yu an improved version of the sky-shaking thunder—a primitive form of later explosives, still requiring fire to ignite. Apart from defending a city, it was of little use in large-scale battles.

Zhao Yu knew that explosives were first invented by Taoists, so upon seeing Gongsun Sheng, he tasked him with this research—not the sky-shaking thunder, but gunpowder itself.

Upon reaching Liao, Zhao Yu would face the kingdom’s declining state. He had no intention of becoming a subject of a fallen nation; he needed to think of ways to aid Liao.

“Master, you might try lengthening the fuse, mixing steel needles into the gunpowder, increasing the dosage, and instead of one, bury dozens to detonate simultaneously for real effect…”

Zhao Yu explained the principles of gunpowder at length, oblivious to Gongsun Sheng’s growing astonishment.

When Zhao Yu finished, Gongsun Sheng finally asked, “Your Highness, where do you intend to use this?”

“The Jurchen, Wanyan Aguda.”

The name startled Gongsun Sheng. The Jurchen had risen among the white mountains and black waters, now occupying half of Liao’s territory, and Wanyan Aguda’s reputation had long spread.

“To be frank, Master, though the Song and Jurchen are divided by Liao now, I guarantee with my life that the Jurchen will one day destroy the Song. The Jurchen are at their peak; defeating them head-on is nearly impossible. The best way is to incite internal strife—if Aguda dies suddenly, the Jurchen tribes will surely battle for the throne. This may seem to help Liao, but in truth, it will buy time for our Song.”

Zhao Yu’s solemn demeanor left Gongsun Sheng shaken.

Gongsun Sheng was adept in divination, especially in reading faces. The first time he saw Zhao Yu in Yangzhou, Zhao Yu’s countenance bewildered him—he had never seen such a face. He had secretly calculated countless times, nearly wearing out his fingers, but could not decipher it.

What amazed him most was that this young prince seemed to know him well, mentioning many things about him, though in memory it was their first meeting.

The more he failed to divine, the more determined he became to understand. After deep conversation in Yangzhou, he realized his own thinking was being steered by the prince.

For this reason, he willingly accepted Zhao Yu’s commission to research gunpowder.

Zhao Yu had no other suitable candidate, otherwise he would not have tasked a master like Gongsun Sheng with such work.

He nodded. “Since Your Highness feels this way, let me handle it. I shall head north at once.”

“Just focus on the research, Master. Leave the business of eliminating bandits to others.”

Gongsun Sheng smiled gently. “To guard the way and vanquish evil is our duty.”

“Then I leave it in your hands. Take care—safety is paramount.”

Zhao Yu suddenly realized that Gongsun Sheng might still doubt his words and wished to see the Jurchen firsthand. That was well enough; witnessing their cruelty toward the Han would help him fulfill the mission.

Zhao Yu had pondered this matter for a long time. The Jurchen operated as a tribal confederation; the powerful tribes had strong self-control, but if Aguda died suddenly, the unrestrained tribes would not remain quiet.

As the saying goes, the strongest fortress is most easily breached from within.

The time Zhao Yu spoke of “buying time for the Song” was, in truth, Zhao Yu seeking time for himself, for he was unwilling to remain subject to others all his life.

Night had quietly enfolded the land. This was not Bianliang; as the darkness deepened, the streets grew silent, broken only by the occasional bark of a dog, soon lost in the night.

The journey had been arduous; Zhao Yu was tired. With Xiu Xiu and Wan Yu’s assistance, he washed and went to bed.

Zhao Yu slept in the inner room; Xiu Xiu and Wan Yu slept outside. This had been their routine throughout the journey.

It was unclear how much time had passed when Xiu Xiu was suddenly awakened by a faint call.

“Your Highness, wake up, there’s trouble!”

It was Yan Qing’s voice. Before Xiu Xiu could react, Zhao Yu had already leapt from the inner room.

“What’s happening?”

Zhao Yu was no stranger to adventuring; he knew better than to light a candle while questioning.

“We’re surrounded. Thieves are piling dry wood outside the courtyard.”

Yan Qing’s voice remained low, but calm—clearly, he had already devised a response.

Without need for further questions, Yan Qing continued, “Please, Your Highness, bring the ladies and follow me…”