The negotiations have finally come to an end.
When Wuzhu, the envoy from Houxia, affixed his seal and signature to the final agreement, his hand was remarkably steady, showing no trace of the humiliation or hesitation of a defeated man; his face even bore a sense of urgent relief.
The terms were far more generous than the minimum expectations brought by Zhang Wenyuan, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites—not only did they fully meet the territorial boundaries initially set by Feng Qinghe, but the indemnity amount was also increased by 30% beyond what Feng Qinghe had proposed.
“Minister Zhang, please.” Wuzhu pushed the document bearing the seal to the other side, his tone calm but implying urgency.
Zhang Wenyuan held the still-wet document in his hand, his fingertips icy cold.
He had been in the political arena for many years and had gone through countless negotiations.
He was always meticulous and had to argue until his lips were raw to gain even a little benefit.
He had never seen the losing side so “generous” as to even take the initiative to “raise the stakes.” This was completely illogical!
His throat bobbed, and he looked up at Wuzhu, trying to find even a hint of reluctance or regret on the other’s face, but he only saw a blank calm and a glimmer of eagerness to end the matter deep in his eyes.
“Lord Wuzhu,” Zhang Wenyuan’s voice was somewhat hoarse as he pointed to the clause regarding the additional reparations, “this… has your country confirmed it to be correct?
This amount…” “No mistake.” Wuzhu interrupted him, his tone resolute, even leaning forward slightly.
“The terms have all been agreed upon.
If Vice Minister Zhang has no further questions, please affix your seal.
The sooner it is completed, the sooner peace will be restored for both countries.” His gaze swept seemingly unintentionally over Feng Qinghe, who sat serenely in the main seat, sipping her tea without uttering a word, before quickly returning to his own.
Zhang Wenyuan was even more confused by this unconventional and decisive move.
He couldn’t help but lower his voice, filled with disbelief and doubt: “Lord Wuzhu, if I may be so bold, these terms…
are perhaps a bit too…
generous.
Does your country have no objections?” Wuzhu’s lips twitched slightly but quickly disappeared.
He looked directly at Zhang Wenyuan, his voice steady yet pointed: “To be able to reach an agreement with Commander Feng on these terms at this moment is already a great fortune for Houxia.
Minister Zhang has lived in the capital for a long time and may not know about the affairs on the border.
Some costs should be paid sooner rather than later so that we can have peace of mind.” He turned his gaze back to the document.
“Please.” The last word carried an undeniable urgency.
Zhang Wenyuan’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of “border affairs” and the glance Wuzhu gave Feng Qinghe.
He felt as if he had grasped something, yet he was even more confused.
He looked at the document in his hand, a document that could be described as “humiliating and detrimental to the nation,” yet the defeated party was eager to sign it.
Then he looked at Feng Qinghe, whose face was calm and composed, as if she had everything under control.
Finally, he looked at the Houxia envoy in front of him, who seemed eager to complete the handover immediately.
His mind was a jumble of thoughts.
All his anticipated bargaining and reasoned arguments had vanished.
He felt as if he had stepped into a fog and could only rely on instinct, mechanically taking out the official seal and pressing it heavily onto the document.
The imprint settled.
Wuzhu almost immediately reached out and retrieved his own document, carefully rolled it up, and put it in his bosom.
He then stood up and bowed to Feng Qinghe and Zhang Wenyuan, respectively: “Now that the matter is settled, this foreign subject will not stay any longer.
Commander Feng, Vice Minister Zhang, farewell.” “Wait a minute.” Zhang Wenyuan subconsciously stood up as well, still trying to maintain some of the etiquette and demeanor of a superior nation.
“The envoy has come a long way and must be tired.
Perhaps we should rest for a day, Your Excellency…” “No need,” Wuzhu interrupted him, his smile even slightly tense.
“I’m eager to go home, eager to go home.
Commander Feng, farewell!” After saying that, he turned and left without stopping for a moment, his steps so fast that it seemed as if something was chasing him, and he quickly left the tent with his entourage.
Zhang Wenyuan stood frozen in place, his outstretched hand still in place.
After a long while, he slowly lowered it and turned to look at Feng Qinghe, his face a mixture of shock, bewilderment, and a sense of powerlessness from being completely excluded.
Feng Qinghe then put down her teacup, which made a crisp “clink” sound as it hit the table.
She looked in the direction where Wuzhu had disappeared outside the tent, then at the freshly printed peace document in her hand.
The corners of her lips curved upwards slightly before returning to their usual calm.
The curtain fell, leaving only Feng Qinghe, Zhang Wenyuan, and Gu Anqi and Ah Chen in the corner.
Zhang Wenyuan finally snapped out of his daze.
He stood up abruptly, disregarding official decorum, and pointed to the still-wet ink on the documents on the table.
His voice trembled with excitement: “Commander Feng!
What…
what exactly is going on?!
Why…
why would Hou Xia agree to such harsh terms?
And even…
even voluntarily increase the compensation?
This is definitely not ordinary!
You…
did you use any underhanded means?
If this causes border conflict, do you know what kind of crime that will be?!” He was shocked and suspicious and even more annoyed and uneasy about being excluded from the core plan.
Upon hearing this, Feng Qinghe’s face instantly blossomed into an expression of innocence and utter injustice.
She spread her hands, her tone filled with helplessness: “Lord Zhang!
You have truly wronged me!” She stood up, walked to Zhang Wenyuan, pointed at the document, and said with great distress: “My only wish is to follow His Majesty’s and the court’s orders, to prioritize appeasement, to end the war as soon as possible, and to bring peace to the border people.
You were present and witnessed the entire negotiation just now!
It was that Houxia envoy, Lord Wuzhu, who took the initiative to propose the terms!
Every word he uttered carried the seal of Houxia!” “I really didn’t say a word!
I was wondering what was going on!
My heart was pounding, wondering if there was a trap.
Were they trying to feign weakness to lull us into a false sense of security?
But they have everything in black and white, with all the official seals…
I…
I can’t just stop them from ceding territory and paying reparations to the Great Zhou, can I?” Feng Qinghe sighed heavily and spread her hands, saying, “Lord Zhang, tell me, can this be blamed on me?
I was truly loyal and only wanted to avoid trouble, but who knew?
They…
they insisted on giving it to me!
Perhaps this is truly His Majesty’s boundless power, which has influenced the barbarians?” Feng Qinghe’s performance was excellent, completely absolving herself of responsibility and making herself the most innocent beneficiary.
She even managed to flatter the emperor at the end.
Zhang Wenyuan was speechless, his face turning pale and then red.
He pointed at her, stammering “You…you…” for a long time but couldn’t utter a complete sentence.
He knew that this matter was definitely not as simple as Feng Qinghe said, that there must be something fishy behind it, and that Feng Qinghe might even be the one manipulating things.
But he just couldn’t find any evidence!
Every word she said made sense, and there were witnesses and physical evidence.
If he continued to argue, he would only appear petty and unreasonable.
In the end, Zhang Wenyuan could only snort heavily, turn his sleeves, and leave without saying goodbye, clearly very angry.
The tent finally fell completely quiet.
Feng Qinghe watched Zhang Wenyuan leave, her innocent and aggrieved expression instantly vanishing, replaced by her usual calm and indifference.
She turned around, her gaze sweeping over Gu Anqi and Achen in the corner, but said nothing, simply beginning to tidy up the documents on her desk.
Gu Anqi lowered his eyes and gently shook his head.
He knew perfectly well that all this “smoothness” and “favor” was definitely related to Feng Qinghe’s seemingly casual attempt to win over Xia Jiyuan that day and the subsequent “perfect” way of letting him “accidentally” learn about Wang Tong’s rise to power.
More importantly, Wuzhu, the envoy from Houxia, witnessed firsthand that Xia Jiyuan was not only not mistreated in the enemy camp but was also free to move about, even appearing somewhat “comfortable.” This scene, in Wuzhu’s eyes, was nothing short of a sharp alarm bell.
If a captured general is doing well in the enemy camp and has some contact with the enemy commander, given enough time, his morale will waver.
Who can say there isn’t a risk of him being gradually pacified and eventually turning against his own side?
At that point, Xia would lose not only temporary land and resources but also a general who deeply understood the weaknesses and strengths of his own country.
Therefore, rather than watching Xia Jiyuan, this important pawn, risk changing his mind, it was better to redeem him as soon as possible with “generous” terms before his resolve completely wavered.
This “generosity” was, in reality, a stopgap measure to mitigate potential “worse outcomes” and a necessary premium to prevent future troubles and avoid losing a key general.
An envoy worried about his commander’s defection would naturally try his best to “persuade” the country to agree to the terms quickly, even proactively increasing the demands for a swift resolution.
Feng Qinghe, without firing a single shot, merely exploited the deep-seated suspicion, fear, and weighing of interests in people’s hearts, thus shifting the balance of the negotiations and achieving a complete victory.
He even left the “supervisor” sent by the court dumbfounded and speechless.
Ah Chen leaned against the tent pillar with his arms crossed, coldly observing the whole process.
In his eyes as he looked at Feng Qinghe, beneath the usual frost, for the first time, a clear light called “approval” flashed.
In the martial world, he had seen plenty of instances of using someone else’s strength against them and exploiting people’s weaknesses.
Within the demonic sects and among the righteous paths, there were countless people scheming and plotting to achieve their goals, but most of those were underhanded tricks, localized calculations, driven by personal grudges or the pursuit of profit; their scope was ultimately limited.
But someone like Feng Qinghe, who treats the subtleties of human nature, the vicissitudes of politics, and all the complex factors of friend and foe inside and outside as clear pieces, calmly lays out her plans and guides her opponents at all levels to move forward step by step according to her preset plan, ultimately winning a complete victory in a negotiation between nations without shedding a drop of blood—this kind of use of “human hearts” and “momentum” in such a macro, precise, and ruthless way is something A-Chen admits he has never seen before.
This approach, which does not rely on absolute force but instead utilizes human nature, rules, and even the contradictions within the opponent to achieve its goals, is completely different from his straightforward and brute-force style.
However, the absolute control, high efficiency, lethality, and chilling calm it displays unexpectedly resonate with his understanding of the essence of “power.” This has nothing to do with moral preferences but rather an intuitive resonance with another form of “strength” that is capable of shaking the entire situation.
Feng Qinghe’s brilliant strategy not only secured the greatest benefits for the Thirteen Alliances and consolidated his own authority but also cleverly countered the court’s constraints, achieving three goals with one move.
The flickering candlelight inside the tent illuminated the silent figures of the three.
A war without gunpowder had quietly come to an end.
But the real turmoil might have only just begun.