Gas, ini gue garap full sesuai canon kamu, gue jaga ritme, politik, sama humor Jianghu tetap hidup.
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Chapter 1396 — They Chose You
Hong Taiji's eyes lit up the moment he heard the report, a flash of instinct from years past surfacing almost reflexively, as though the battlefield itself had whispered into his ear that this was the moment to strike, the kind of chaos within the Great Ming that in earlier days would have sent him surging forward without hesitation, banners raised, cavalry thundering, eager to smash the empire while it staggered under its own weight.
And yet, that same thought barely had time to take shape before it dissolved into something far heavier, something far more frustrating, a dull and suffocating sense of helplessness that clung to him like damp armor after rain.
"Fan Wencheng," he said at last, his voice low, carrying not excitement but restraint, "this is indeed a rare opportunity."
He paused, and the pause itself seemed longer than it should have been, as though even he was unwilling to finish the sentence that should naturally follow.
"But even if the garrison at Dalinghe Fortress has been cut in half, we still lack the strength to attack."
Silence fell for a brief moment.
Fan Wencheng did not respond, not because he had nothing to say, but because there was, in truth, nothing left to argue.
Hong Taiji exhaled slowly, the weight of reality pressing down on every word that followed.
"We cannot break their iron war wagons, and we certainly cannot deal with those floating balloons of theirs."
That last phrase lingered in the air with a peculiar bitterness, as though it offended not just his strategy, but his understanding of war itself.
"Then we wait," he continued, his tone settling into something almost resigned, yet not entirely devoid of calculation. "We keep waiting, and we watch just how far the chaos within the Great Ming will go."
---
From the outside, the Great Ming looked like it was collapsing into utter disorder, a tangled mess of rebellion, betrayal, and authority slipping through imperial fingers like sand.
From the perspective of Emperor Chongzhen, it was no different, the entire realm seeming to twist into knots beyond his ability to untangle, each report from the front only tightening that knot further.
And yet, in the eyes of Gao Village, the same empire presented an entirely different picture, one that might have seemed almost absurd if not for how consistently it unfolded.
To them, this was harmony.
A peculiar, bustling, almost cheerful kind of harmony.
In Chengdu, within the yamen of the Sichuan Provincial Governor, Minister Wang Weizhang sat by the window, watching the streets below where carts rolled endlessly through crowded avenues, merchants called out their wares, and people moved with a sense of purpose that had been absent not long ago.
Ever since the Prince of Shu had been dragged off for labor reform, Sichuan had entered a phase of rapid transformation, one that no traditional official training could have prepared anyone for, as factories of unfamiliar design sprang up across Chengdu and Chongqing, blooming in pairs like something out of a proverb that had suddenly decided to become literal.
The large-scale hydroelectric plant at Dujiangyan, sponsored by Gao Village, was still under construction due to certain technical difficulties that no one in the provincial bureaucracy fully understood, yet a thermal power plant on the outskirts of Chengdu had already been completed ahead of schedule.
And so, Chengdu had electricity.
Blue-capped workers from Gao Village had strung wires across the streets, installed electric lamps, and when evening fell, the entire city lit up in a glow so vibrant that it transformed the night into something almost festive, a scene of lights and movement that made people linger long after they had intended to return home.
At Caishikou, a massive Immortal Mirror Device had been erected, powered by electricity generated by the people themselves, broadcasting the Gao Family News to an audience that gathered each evening with increasing enthusiasm.
Wang Weizhang watched all of this, his mind quietly calculating.
"These should count as my achievements, shouldn't they," he murmured to himself, the question carrying less confidence than he might have liked. "Surely they count… perhaps Dao Xuan Tianzun will take notice."
His greatest concern was not rebellion, nor the court, nor even the shifting tides of power, but something far more personal and far more dangerous for a man in his position.
He feared being overlooked.
After all, he was not part of Dao Xuan Tianzun's inner circle, and he had not forgotten the warning he received back at Mingyue Gorge, a warning so direct that it had forced him to return every illicit coin he had ever taken, leaving him both cleaner and considerably poorer than before.
A trusted aide slipped into the room, lowering his voice as he spoke.
"My lord, Qin Prince Heir Zhu Cunji has also risen in rebellion, and His Majesty has ordered General Commander Shi Jian of Yansui and Zhao Guangyuan of Hanzhong to suppress him, but Zhao Guangyuan has refused to return and remains stationed at the Liaodong Front, while Shi Jian, after reaching Shaanxi, has not only refused to attack but has instead joined the rebels."
He hesitated briefly before adding, "The Emperor is… deeply shaken."
Wang Weizhang nodded, unsurprised.
"The Emperor is but a man," he said calmly, "and how could a man contend with a god, so his panic is inevitable, and his defeat even more so."
He waved his hand dismissively, as though brushing aside the fate of the empire itself.
"That is not our concern. What matters is how we present ourselves before Dao Xuan Tianzun, how we prove that we are still useful, still working, still worthy of being remembered."
The aide leaned closer.
"In that case, my lord, should we not also respond to the call for Shared Governance?"
Wang Weizhang turned his head slightly.
"You mean… we should also rebel, raise a figure of prestige, and declare support for Shared Governance?"
The aide nodded.
"Exactly so."
Wang Weizhang considered this for only a moment before answering with surprising decisiveness.
"Then the obvious choice would be the Prince of Shu."
The aide's expression stiffened.
"My lord… the Prince of Shu has already been taken for labor reform."
Silence.
A very awkward silence.
Wang Weizhang felt a sudden weight press down on him, the kind that could only be described, in the most modern of terms, as being under massive pressure, though he would never have admitted to using such phrasing aloud.
"Then what do we do," he muttered, his composure cracking just slightly. "Do we not even have a figure worth supporting in all of Sichuan? Someone with status, with influence, someone who could unify these factions?"
The aide spoke carefully.
"There is Qin Liangyu, the old general."
Wang Weizhang immediately shook his head.
"That would be even worse than killing her outright. If she does not oppose Shared Governance, it is already out of respect for Dao Xuan Tianzun, and expecting her to lead a rebellion is… unrealistic."
The aide fell silent again.
"In that case, there truly is no suitable candidate."
"No," Wang Weizhang said, his voice tightening, "that will not do. I will not remain idle, I will not fade into obscurity, and I will not allow Dao Xuan Tianzun to forget me. I must produce results, no matter what it takes."
The aide could only sigh.
"Sichuan has long been fragmented, ruled by native chieftains and tangled local powers, and there has never been a figure whose reputation could span all factions, so aside from the Prince of Shu, there is simply no one…"
He stopped mid-sentence.
At that very moment, the Immortal Mirror Device at Caishikou flickered to life.
It was time for the Gao Family News.
And as always, the broadcast began not with news, but with an advertisement.
The first figure to appear on screen was not the famed beauty Chen Yuanyuan, but Flat Rabbit, sprawled across the frame with a rabbit-head hat perched on his head, grinning with all the confidence of a man who had absolutely no concern for dignity.
"Rabbit Brand, Spicy Rabbit Heads," he announced cheerfully. "Doesn't that sound delicious?"
Before he could say more, Zheng Gouzi burst into the frame, wielding a two-meter-long blade.
"Rabbit Lord, lend me your head," he shouted. "Our spicy rabbit heads are selling too fast, and we've run out!"
Flat Rabbit froze for half a heartbeat before screaming, "What the hell, I'm not tasty!"
Zheng Gouzi swung the blade casually.
"With enough spice, everything becomes tasty, including your stupid head."
"Dog, spare my head, spare my head!"
The two of them ran off screen, one chasing, the other fleeing, leaving behind a chaos that felt suspiciously well-rehearsed.
Only then did Chen Yuanyuan step forward, smiling with effortless grace.
"Every coin earned by Rabbit Brand will go toward supporting impoverished mountain regions in Sichuan," she said. "Each spicy rabbit head you purchase helps a child receive two potatoes."
The crowd erupted into laughter.
"Flat Rabbit again!"
"His ads are the best!"
"With him around, even Chen Yuanyuan can only play a supporting role!"
"I respect no one, but I respect Rabbit Lord!"
Wang Weizhang stared at the screen, and then, quite suddenly, it was as if a lamp lit up inside his mind with an audible click.
"I know now," he said slowly, his eyes gleaming with a kind of inspiration that would have terrified any reasonable advisor. "I know who we should support."
The aide's face turned pale.
"My lord… surely not."
"Why not," Wang Weizhang shot back, his confidence swelling rapidly. "He is the perfect candidate."
"My lord, even in desperation, one should not entrust matters to a quack."
"A quack," Wang Weizhang scoffed. "You understand nothing. Flat Rabbit's greatest strength lies in making a fool of himself to entertain others, and he cares nothing for his own dignity so long as others find joy. You may call him lowly, but he is not distant, not aloof, and he connects directly with the people. That is precisely the kind of person the people favor."
The aide was left speechless.
Wang Weizhang did not wait for further objections.
"Good. Then it is settled. We shall also rise, declare our support, and endorse Flat Rabbit as the representative of the people of Sichuan in the cause of Shared Governance."
"My lord, wait, we are really doing this?"
But Wang Weizhang had already made up his mind.
He needed results.
He needed recognition.
And above all, he refused to be forgotten.
---
Five days later, Sichuan made its declaration.
The Provincial Governor, along with various native chieftain commissioners, publicly announced their support for Flat Rabbit.
Only Qin Liangyu remained silent.
And just like that, in a world that claimed to be descending into chaos, a new and rather absurd piece of order quietly took its place.