Capital. Imperial Study.
The Emperor, Zhu Youjian, sat behind his desk doing what he had been doing for what felt like a thousand years, which was reviewing memorials that never seemed to end, except today they felt very different, because instead of headaches, they brought something dangerously close to joy.
He picked up one memorial and read it slowly, his eyes narrowing at first, then widening as the numbers settled into his mind.
Tax revenue.
From a fertilizer factory.
Not a massive amount, not something that would shake the empire on its own, but it was real, structured, and more importantly, repeatable, which made it far more dangerous than a one-time windfall.
His mood rose instantly.
It was as if he had been strapped onto some invisible flying machine that launched him upward without warning, his thoughts soaring past caution and straight into optimism.
He grabbed the next memorial.
The Grand Secretary, He Fengsheng, had followed the same model, building another fertilizer factory, copying the policy structure, and paying value-added tax to the court with suspicious enthusiasm.
Another stream of income.
Another confirmation that this was not an accident.
The invisible machine accelerated.
Zhu Youjian felt like he was being carried higher and higher, his breathing slightly uneven, his fingers tightening around the paper as the idea began to form in his mind that perhaps, just perhaps, the empire had found a new way to sustain itself.
Then a eunuch rushed in.
"Your Majesty, the Grand Secretary submits another memorial."
"Bring it."
The document was placed into his hands, and he opened it immediately, scanning through lines that described something even stranger than tax revenue.
A company.
Not a traditional bureau, not a temporary labor draft, but an organized entity called the Yanjing Transportation Engineering Team, created jointly by the Shanxi Governor Wu Shen and the Grand Secretary.
Its purpose was simple on the surface and revolutionary underneath.
To build roads.
A wide official road stretching from Shanxi to the capital, funded not by the court, but by merchant donations.
Zhu Youjian paused.
Then he read it again.
Then a third time.
"Someone is paying to build roads for me," he said slowly, as if testing whether the sentence would collapse under its own absurdity.
It did not.
His mood surged again, rising to a level that felt almost physically unsustainable, as if he had climbed too high and the air itself was starting to thin.
Before he could stabilize himself, another eunuch rushed in, urgency written all over his face.
"Your Majesty, military report from Gao Qiqian regarding the Jurchen vanguard."
The word "military" snapped everything back into focus.
"Report."
"The eunuch commander Gao Qiqian led the capital garrison and encountered the cavalry of Dorgon near Shunyi. The enemy was fierce, but Gao Qiqian showed no fear and engaged them directly. The Jurchens were shaken by his momentum and were forced to withdraw."
Zhu Youjian leaned forward.
"They were stopped."
"They were stopped. Under Gao Qiqian's command, the forces have formed a defensive line. Yang Guozhu holds Shunyi, Wang Pu is stationed at the imperial estates of Shuntian, and Gao Qiqian positions himself between them. Together they have blocked the cavalry from advancing further. This time, the enemy will not even see the walls of the capital."
The Emperor exhaled slowly, tension dissolving into something close to relief.
Everything was working.
Industry was generating revenue.
Officials were adapting.
The military was holding the line.
This was what prosperity felt like, overwhelming, almost unreal, as if the world had suddenly decided to cooperate.
His thoughts rose again, dangerously high, his body struggling to keep up with the emotional surge.
And then, right on time, reality intervened.
Another eunuch stepped forward, voice cautious.
"Your Majesty, Gao Qiqian submits an impeachment. He accuses the newly appointed Minister of War, Lu Xiangsheng, of abandoning his post. While the Jurchen cavalry ravaged the northern region, the Minister led troops to Tianjin, entered the sea, and disappeared without clear orders. If not for Gao Qiqian's leadership, the enemy might have reached the capital."
The fall was immediate.
Zhu Youjian's expression darkened, the earlier momentum collapsing into suspicion.
"What is Lu Xiangsheng doing," he said, his tone low and dangerous, "I need an explanation."
Before the thought could fully settle, another voice cut in, this time confident, almost celebratory.
"Your Majesty, great news."
The speaker was Cao Huachun, his face lit with excitement that he did not even attempt to hide.
"The Liaodong situation has opened up."
Zhu Youjian blinked.
"What do you mean."
"Lu Xiangsheng, together with coastal commander Cao Wenzhao and Dongjiang commander Shen Shikui, launched a surprise assault on Jinzhou. They executed Zu Dashou for disobedience and have returned the city to court control."
Silence.
For a brief moment, the Emperor simply stared.
Jinzhou.
A place so critical that even when Zu Dashou defied the court, no one dared to force the issue, because pushing too hard might have driven him straight into the arms of the enemy.
And now it was back.
Just like that.
Zhu Youjian inhaled sharply, the emotional whiplash almost too much to process, his mind jumping from suspicion to triumph in the span of a single breath.
"This…"
He did not finish the sentence.
He did not need to.
His entire expression said everything.
The rise returned, stronger than before, carrying him beyond relief, beyond excitement, into something that felt dangerously close to losing control.
"I… cannot… breathe…"
His vision blurred.
Then he collapsed.
Chaos erupted instantly.
"Call the imperial physicians."
"Hurry."
News in the capital traveled faster than logic.
Within half an hour, the story of Lu Xiangsheng reclaiming Jinzhou had spread through streets, markets, and teahouses, evolving with every retelling.
Inside one teahouse, a storyteller slammed his fan against the table, his voice rising dramatically.
"Thus speaks the tale of the new Minister of War, Lu Xiangsheng, a man of both civil wisdom and martial power. With the Tianxiong Army under his command, he arrived before Jinzhou and shouted, 'Zu Dashou, surrender at once.' Zu Dashou refused, and the two sides clashed beneath the city walls. With a single strike, Lu Xiangsheng took his head."
The audience gasped.
Outside, reality continued to distort itself quietly.
A few days later, Lu Xiangsheng returned.
As his forces approached the capital, they were met with a scene that looked less like a military arrival and more like a festival.
Officials.
Civilians.
Crowds lining the road, cheering loudly, their voices merging into a single overwhelming wave.
"Lu Xiangsheng."
"Lu Xiangsheng."
At the front, Cao Huachun personally stepped forward, his expression filled with admiration.
"Minister Lu, reclaiming Jinzhou has greatly strengthened the morale of the empire."
Lu Xiangsheng looked genuinely uncomfortable, his brows tightening slightly.
"This… I did not actually do much," he said honestly, his tone awkward, "it was the soldiers who performed well."
The crowd immediately reacted.
"Look at his humility."
"He does not claim credit."
"He shares it with his men."
Cao Huachun sighed, deeply moved.
"Minister Lu, your virtue is something we must all learn from."
Lu Xiangsheng hesitated, then tried again, his voice more serious this time.
"No, you do not understand. I truly did nothing. I stood there, gave no pre-battle speech, made no strategic arrangements, issued no commands. The soldiers simply fought on their own and took the city."
The reaction was immediate and completely wrong.
"That is the highest level of command."
"His strategy is beyond our comprehension."
"We are too ordinary to understand such genius."
Lu Xiangsheng stared at them.
For a moment, he considered explaining.
Then he stopped.
Because he suddenly realized that explaining would only make it worse.
He rolled his eyes slightly, exhaling under his breath.
Fine.
Let them think whatever they wanted.
Some battles, it seemed, were impossible to clarify.