453: Chapter 463 A Hall Full of Old Friends

Behind the beaded curtains of the imperial crown, the Emperor's pupils suddenly constricted.

In a single breath, his gaze shifted from confusion to bewilderment, and then to an unbelievable shock!

This person... he recognized him!

Five years ago, in this very hall symbolizing the highest power of the Empire—though it wasn't the Court of State Ceremonial then, but the even more majestic Golden Throne Hall.

That year, after the results of the spring imperial examinations were posted and the Qionglin Banquet concluded, the newly minted graduates entered the hall to offer their thanks.

He remembered it clearly: the tenth place in the second tier, a young scholar from Qingshi County who was only seventeen years old, the very one he had personally appointed as an Editor in the Hanlin Academy.

The same young man who, in the imperial court, had been driven into a desperate corner by Marquis Yongchang Chen Yuan with the monstrous crime of "delaying military secrets," and was ultimately stripped of his rank and titles by the Emperor's own helpless decree, then exiled to the Blackwater Camp in the Northern Frontier!

His name was Su Ming!

At this moment, the Emperor's breathing hitched for a very brief second.

It had been five years.

He thought that the brilliant yet stone-stubborn youth had long ago turned into a handful of yellow dust and withered bones on the icy plains of the Northern Frontier, like countless other exiles.

But how could he be here?

How could he possibly... be sitting in the seat of the Cloud Hidden Sect envoy?!

That green robe and that indifferent, ethereal aura that seemed completely out of place in the mortal world—everything pointed toward a possibility that made the Emperor's scalp tingle.

Below the throne, among the hundred officials.

Several veteran officials who had attended that court session five years ago also recognized Su Ming at almost the same time.

"Hiss... Isn't that..."

"The one from the Hanlin Academy... Editor Su?"

"Wasn't he exiled? How could..."

Whispers, like the buzzing of mosquitoes, spread through a small section of the silent ranks of officials. Some gasped in shock, some were full of confusion, and a few deep-thinking veteran officials looked thoughtfully at Xu Qing, who stood waiting by the throne, their eyes becoming incredibly complex.

They all remembered that back then in the Golden Throne Hall, the only one who had stood up to speak out for justice for Su Ming was the current newly promoted Minister of Revenue, Xu Qing.

Now, one held immense power in the imperial court, while the other had become an immortal envoy of a Sect.

Just what had happened during these five years?

Xu Qing stood at the Emperor's side, eyes focused on his nose and his nose on his heart, seemingly oblivious to the inquisitive and shocked gazes directed at him. His expression was as calm as a deep pool of water, without the slightest ripple.

He had finally returned, upright and honorable, in a different capacity to this capital city that had once seen him wronged and humiliated.

Upon the throne, the stormy waves in the Emperor's eyes came quickly and left just as fast.

He was, after all, a formidable monarch whose stability of Heart-Nature was far beyond that of ordinary people. He quickly withdrew his gaze, his face regaining its majestic and indifferent expression. He did not acknowledge the recognition on the spot, nor did he show any abnormality.

But the hand hidden within his wide Dragon sleeves inadvertently clenched slightly for a moment.

In the Emperor's mind, the thin figure kneeling on the cold floor tiles of the Golden Throne Hall five years ago surfaced once more.

When facing Marquis Yongchang's overwhelming power and framing, that youth's back had remained ramrod straight, and there was no trace of fear in his eyes—only a near-obsessive calmness and stubbornness.

Now, that person had returned.

Not as a prisoner in shackles covered in the frost of travel, but as a Cloud Hidden Sect envoy whom even he, the supreme ruler, had to treat with courtesy.

The Emperor's gaze inadvertently swept over Xu Qing beside him.

He suddenly understood many things.

In this game of chess, the first piece—one he hadn't known about—had already been placed five years ago.

Inside the hall, the atmosphere became eerily quiet.

Just then, from the Northern Mang delegation, the Prime Minister, who had remained silent all along, slowly raised his head.

A glint flashed in his cloudy eyes, and his aged voice rasped like sandpaper, breaking the stagnant air.

"Your Majesty."

The Prime Minister of Northern Mang stood up and bowed deeply toward the Son of Heaven of Great Xing on the throne.

"The Khan of my dynasty wishes for eternal friendship with Daxing. However, the three cities of Beifeng, Yunzhong, and Dingxiang have been under the governance of our Northern Mang for over four years since our soldiers captured them. The people in the cities have long grown accustomed to our rule. If they are forcibly returned, I fear a civil uprising may occur."

His voice was neither humble nor arrogant, and he spoke every word very slowly, yet they carried an unquestionable hardness.

"For the sake of peace between our two nations and for the sake of the people of the three cities, I hope Your Majesty will show compassion and order your Great Army... to withdraw with dignity. Acknowledge our dynasty's right to govern the three cities. This is the only way to lasting peace."

As his voice fell, the temperature in the entire hall seemed to drop several degrees instantly.

The so-called peace talks began with a blatant and audacious challenge in the very first sentence!

The words of the Prime Minister of Northern Mang were like a giant boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring up invisible ripples within the hall.

Withdraw with dignity?

Acknowledge Northern Mang's actual control over the three cities?

This wasn't someone coming to seek peace; this was clearly someone relying on their remaining strength to force the Emperor's hand!

Upon hearing this, several military generals of Daxing turned red in the face, the veins on the backs of their hands bulging as they gripped the hilts of the sabers at their waists, nearly erupting on the spot.

Upon the throne, the Son of Heaven of Great Xing remained calm, but his eyes, hidden behind the beaded crown, narrowed slightly, flashing with a cold, icy light.

However, before the Emperor could speak, Xu Qing beside him suddenly let out a very soft sneer.

The laughter was very light, yet it sounded exceptionally clear in the empty hall, like a fine needle precisely puncturing the forceful aura the Prime Minister of Northern Mang had just built up.

"Lord Prime Minister."

Xu Qing spoke slowly, his voice warm and peaceful, betraying no emotion. He didn't even look at the Prime Minister of Northern Mang, instead unhurriedly taking a thick scroll from his sleeve.

He placed the scroll gently on the desk in front of him, producing a dull, soft thud.

"You say, for the sake of the people of the three cities. Those are well-spoken words."

Xu Qing raised his eyes, his gaze finally landing on the face of the Prime Minister of Northern Mang. That gaze was as calm as water, yet it possessed a sharpness that seemed capable of seeing through one's heart.

"Then, I also ask the Lord Prime Minister to take a look at how many people in our three Northern provinces have been displaced, and how many soldiers have returned in body bags over these past four years in order to reclaim the lands that originally belonged to my Daxing from your dynasty."

Xu Qing did not raise his voice; he merely extended his slender fingers and gently flipped open the first page of the scroll.

"In the autumn of the twenty-first year of the Yongtai era of Daxing, your dynasty tore up the alliance for no reason. Your iron cavalry swept south and broke Beifeng City. Of the three thousand six hundred garrison troops in the city, three thousand five hundred and ninety-eight died in battle; the remaining two were both heavily wounded with severed limbs."

"After breaking the city, your army allowed the soldiers to pillage for three days. Over twelve thousand commoners in the city were killed or wounded, their homes were completely destroyed, and nine out of ten houses were left empty."

"In the winter of the same year, outside Yunzhong City, during the Battle of Fengling Ferry. Thirty thousand of our Imperial Guards faced fifty thousand of your army. In this battle, eighteen thousand of our troops were killed and nine thousand were wounded. Your army's casualties... are unknown."