Shanguan County finally received an envoy.
Of course, it wasn’t the earlier envoy who’d done the splits—it was one sent by Donghu Commandery, a man named Song Gui.
Song Gui was rather short and was a Han Chinese who had surrendered to the Quzhao.
He cast an unfriendly glance at Dong Si, who had come to negotiate, and said with a look of disdain, “And who might you be?”
Dong Si lifted his eyes to look at him and snorted, “Ha. Playing the dog and enjoying it, aren’t you?”
Song Gui choked on his words, then sneered, “I won’t bicker with you over this. I’ll only ask you this: can you make the decisions here? Why haven’t we seen that Lady General of yours?”
The tall man beside Song Gui laughed coldly, “Heh heh, probably scared to tears. A woman should be groveling on the ground, letting us men—”
Before he could finish, his words were cut short.
And Song Gui was splattered with a face full of blood.
Bang.
A severed head, its eyes wide with terror, rolled to his feet.
Bang.
The body collapsed beside him, landing with a heavy thud.
Shuangjiang’s eternal-life knife dripped with blood.
She had been assigned that day to protect Dong Si, in case anything went wrong during the negotiations.
Drip. Drip…
The scene fell so silent you could hear a pin drop—the sound of blood hitting the ground was unnervingly clear.
Shuangjiang lifted her eyes to the Quzhao men, her gaze fierce. “How dare you show disrespect to my Lord? Death!”
The Quzhao soldiers tightened their grips on their blades and stepped forward to guard Song Gui, staring warily at Shuangjiang and the Jinyang Army behind her, yet daring not to make a move.
This was Shanguan County, after all—if they weren’t careful, none of them would make it back.
Dong Si began to clap. “Shuangjiang, well done.”
Praised, Shuangjiang’s face flushed with two rosy patches, her fierce expression vanishing like smoke and clouds, replaced by a demure and modest look. “All thanks to my Lord’s excellent teaching,” she said.
Dong Si nodded in agreement. “The Lord truly is formidable.”
He turned to Song Gui and the others. “So, shall we continue the negotiations? Or would you like to go back and have a calming draught first?”
Song Gui’s lips trembled. He was numb all over, a mix of shock and fear.
He had heard of the Jinyang Army’s brutality, but he had never experienced it firsthand. Word was that when Wuqin had sent envoys to Zhou County, several of their generals had been killed too.
Were these reckless brutes utterly ignorant of etiquette? Didn’t they know the rule of not harming envoys?
Dong Si rolled his eyes inwardly. This man’s courage is so small—no wonder he’s just a lackey.
Impatient, Dong Si said, “Are we negotiating or not? Give me a straight answer.”
“You—” Song Gui’s face flushed crimson with rage.
Looking at the headless corpse on the ground, he suppressed his fury and fear. “We want to ransom our Quzhao people. Name your price. How much money will it take to release them?”
A cold glint flickered in Dong Si’s eyes. “Money? We don’t need money. What we want is grain. Not much—just a thousand shi per person.”
Song Gui was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected the negotiations to go this smoothly, and inwardly felt a smug satisfaction.
They’re really small-minded, aren’t they? he thought. That’s the general’s relative we’re talking about. If I can settle it for just a thousand shi of grain, this will be a huge feather in my cap.
Even if you added Qu Wenzhou’s immediate family and a few other important figures, it wouldn’t be more than ten thousand shi of grain.
But on his face, he put on an expression of angry laughter. “Are you joking? Do you have any idea how much a thousand shi is?”
“Oh, right—your Jinyang Army is so poor, you probably don’t even know how long a thousand shi can last, do you?”
Dong Si ignored his bluster and, sticking to his own rhythm, raised one finger.
“Second, this is a bulk price. We have 1,251 Quzhao prisoners in our hands. That’s 1.25 million shi of grain. No individual sales.”
Song Gui almost spat blood. Wait, if you have multiple conditions, can’t you state them all at once? And what’s with raising just one finger for the second one?
Those ordinary captured soldiers and the less important Quzhao nobles—who would pay a thousand shi of grain to ransom them?
“Don’t go too far,” Song Gui said. “We can accept your offer of one thousand shi per person, but we’ll decide who gets ransomed. Those common soldiers aren’t worth a thousand shi of grain!”
Dong Si clicked his tongue a couple of times. “How pitiful for your Quzhao soldiers. They fight and die for Quzhao at the front lines, and this is how they’re repaid. Pitiful! So pitiful!”
Song Gui took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to erupt, and handed over a list. “I only want these ten people. I’ll give you ten thousand shi of grain.”
Dong Si wagged his finger. “Sorry, I’ve already said it’s only a bulk deal. Take all or take none.”
Song Gui’s eyes blazed with fire. “Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Not only is there a drought now, but even in normal years, we couldn’t produce over a million shi of grain. Change your terms.”
Dong Si frowned. “We don’t really want anything except grain. After all, you Quzhao are just barbarians—you’ve got nothing we need.”
Song Gui, who already considered himself a Quzhao man, felt deeply insulted. He took a few more breaths to swallow his resentment, then rolled his eyes and offered a suggestion.
“How about this: I’ll exchange the Han Chinese commoners from Donghu Commandery for the Quzhao commoners?”
Dong Si shook his head. “One thousand shi of grain for one Han commoner? Am I crazy, or are you? If I had that much grain, I could get as many Han commoners as I wanted.”
Song Gui: “…” You know you’re crazy, right?
Wasn’t it you who proposed a thousand shi per person in the first place?
Dong Si, completely oblivious to his own ‘craziness,’ flicked a non-existent speck of dust off his clothes. “If your Quzhao side isn’t sincere, then we don’t need to go on with this talk.”
“I only agreed to help deliver the message because your people were crying and begging every day, swearing that no matter what the terms, you’d be able to meet them.”
He shook his head with a sigh. “What I didn’t expect was that they were just stringing us along. Bold of them. I’ll have them all castrated as soon as I go back.”
With that, he stood up. “Since your Quzhao can’t come up with the grain, I’ll castrate them and then let them die.”
Song Gui was at a loss for how to handle this. He gritted his teeth. “If you massacre our Quzhao commoners, aren’t you afraid I’ll go back and massacre your Han commoners?”
“You claim to be a Han army. Don’t you care about the Han people’s welfare? Will your lack of compassion for the people not turn the Han commoners against you? How can you expect them to submit to you?”
Dong Si looked up at him. “Turn against us? Submit? You should go to Sizhou and talk to the First Prince about that.”
“He’s the First Prince of Yanguo, and most of Yanguo’s resources are in Sizhou. The responsibility for Yanguo’s people lies with him.”
“We’re just a bunch of ordinary people trying to survive. We’re Han commoners who also need protection.”
At that moment, he felt deeply grateful—grateful that his Lord had not announced the princess’s identity to the whole world. Some responsibilities aren’t something you can just pick up or put down.
And those who would be drawn by her princess identity would come only because of that title, each with their own hidden agendas.
Unlike now—the people around his Lord were pure, drawn by the person she was, willing to follow her, fight for a shared goal, live for her, and die for her.
Song Gui was stumped, his head buzzing. “One Quzhao person in exchange for two Han people. How about that?”
Dong Si gave him a sidelong glance. “No deal. Besides, who knows if those Han commoners are like you—Quzhao dogs eager to be spies planted among us?”
At this moment, Song Gui finally understood the frustration those Zhou County envoys had felt.
Truly, the Jinyang Army knew exactly where to strike to hurt the most. They jabbed a knife straight into your heart, hitting every raw nerve they could find.
He took a few deep breaths to suppress the rising anger in his chest. "Since you're worried that the Han civilians might be spies, then at least use your own people, those you already trust—there's no need to worry about that."
