On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

Kong Zhiqian's heart pounded in his chest, but his face maintained a calm that was incongruous with his age, almost numb. He knew this was his only chance. If he couldn't come up with a plan that would convince Uvi and turn the tide of the battle, then he, this pawn of the "Saint's Son-in-Law," would soon be ruthlessly discarded, and might even become the scapegoat for the disastrous defeat at Eagle's Beak Cliff.

He took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound steady and powerful.

"Great Khan," he didn't answer Uvi's question directly, but instead asked in return, "what is your ultimate goal in winning this war? Is it to plunder and retreat back to the grasslands like your ancestors, or... to truly conquer the Central Plains and replace them?"

Uvi's eyes narrowed sharply, a piercing light shooting from their slits as he stared intently at Kong Zhiqian. The question was far too direct and too audacious. The other tribal leaders in the hall also held their breath, watching this arrogant southern youth with bated breath.

Kong Zhiqian did not avoid Uvi's gaze. Facing the tangible pressure, he continued, "If the goal is just to plunder, then the defeat at Eagle Beak Cliff is not a big deal. Our main force is still intact. We can simply avoid Lin Zhen's sharp edge and attack other poorly defended prefectures and counties instead, and still return with a full load."

“But if…” his voice suddenly lowered, carrying a seductive magic, “if the Khan’s goal is the whole world, then we can no longer fight this war the way we do on the grasslands.”

"What do you want to say?" Uvi's voice was hoarse, clearly intrigued by Kong Zhiqian's words.

“What I want to say is that, to deal with Daqian, to deal with Lin Zhen and that empress, a simple military victory is far from enough.” Kong Zhiqian’s eyes gleamed with a morbid, fanatical light. “Daqian’s greatest strength is not their tall city walls, nor their excellent crossbows, but their deeply rooted… rules and the hearts of the people.”

He stretched out his finger and drew lines in the air: "Ruler and subject, father and son, social order, ethics... these things are like an invisible net, binding hundreds of millions of Southerners together. As long as this net remains intact, no matter how many cities we conquer or how many people we kill, they will continue to resist. Lin Zhen and Murong Yan are the guardians of this net. Therefore, if we want to win, we must first destroy this net!"

"How do we destroy it?" Attila the Great couldn't help but ask in a gruff voice.

Kong Zhiqian turned to him, a cold, sarcastic smile playing on his lips: "Use the Southerners' own way to deal with the Southerners."

He turned back to Uvi and said, word by word, "On the front lines, we will temporarily avoid their sharp edge and continue to harass their supply lines with scouts, keeping them constantly on the move. But the real killing blow will be used where they cannot see it."

"First, there's the will of the people." Kong Zhiqian's voice turned cold. "Southerners value 'the Mandate of Heaven' the most. We can send people to infiltrate the Great Qian Empire, especially those regions that have just experienced natural disasters or are burdened with heavy taxes, to spread rumors. Say that Empress Murong Yan is a hen crowing at dawn, unworthy of her position, which led to the heavens sending down calamities and war breaking out in the northern border. We can also fabricate some 'secret stories' about her persecuting loyal officials and living a life of extravagance. The truth of these things is not important; what's important is to make those already dissatisfied fools believe that their suffering is all because of a bad emperor."

"At the same time," a ruthless glint flashed in his eyes, "we can release diseased and dead cattle and sheep into some of their important water sources, such as the upper reaches of the Yellow River and the Huai River. We don't need many, just enough to cause a small-scale epidemic, and panic will spread like wildfire. At that time, natural disasters and man-made calamities will strike at the same time, and the people's hearts will surely be in chaos! What can a court that is already overwhelmed internally use to fight us?"

The moment this plan was announced, even the most bloodthirsty Attila couldn't help but shudder. Such insidious methods were something these steppe warriors, accustomed to real combat on the battlefield, had never even heard of.

Ashina's eyes flashed with a complex light, a mixture of shock and admiration. He realized that this southern boy's ruthlessness far surpassed his own.

Uwe didn't speak, but listened quietly, his expression unfathomable.

Kong Zhiqian didn't stop; he continued to come up with his second wicked plan.

"Secondly, it's about morale," he said. "Lin Zhen's ability to inspire the soldiers in the northern frontier is due to two reasons: first, he is indeed capable, and second, the imperial court provides ample supplies. We can start from these two points. We should continue harassing supply lines, but we need to be more strategic. We shouldn't engage in direct combat with large, heavily guarded supply convoys, but rather focus on targeting smaller supply groups requisitioned from local prefectures and counties. Little by little, this can put pressure on the front lines."

“More importantly,” he lowered his voice, like a viper spitting its tongue, “we can forge letters! I am familiar with the handwriting and writing style of the generals of the Great Qian Dynasty. We can forge a ‘secret letter’ from Zheng Jiao to his confidant, complaining that Prince Lin Zhen is young and impetuous, autocratic, unwilling to listen to loyal advice, and even withholding military merits. Then we can ‘accidentally’ let this letter fall into the hands of Lin Zhen’s spies planted beside Zheng Jiao. Even if Lin Zhen trusts Zheng Jiao, a thorn will inevitably be planted in his heart. Suspicion between ruler and subject is a major taboo in military strategy! As long as they have internal discord, our army will have an opportunity to exploit!”

"We can also forge intelligence reports written by Lin Zhen to the capital, exaggerating the battle results and concealing the losses. Then, through our people in the capital, we can 'inadvertently' leak these reports to the officials and censors who are already dissatisfied with Lin Zhen's power. At that time, impeachments against him will surely flood the court. How much will a commander-in-chief, who is attacked from both sides on the front lines and also criticized in the rear, have left to fight us?"

This series of insidious schemes, each linked to the next, was extremely ruthless, sending chills down the spines of everyone in the hall. Looking at the eloquent, pale-faced scholar before them, they felt not as a person, but as a demon crawling out of hell.

Kong Zhiqian seemed oblivious to the fear in everyone's eyes. He was completely absorbed in his revenge plan, his cheeks flushed with a sickly excitement.

“Third, and most importantly,” he looked up, his gaze fixed intently on Uvi, “is to make good use of my identity. Great Khan, you have only used me as a banner before, which is far from enough. You must make me truly another ‘choice’ in the hearts of the Southern people.”

"I will personally write a manifesto, in the name of the sage descendant of Confucius, to proclaim to the world with tears in my eyes! I will enumerate the ten major crimes of Empress Murong Yan: murdering the emperor and usurping the throne, persecuting loyal officials, being a hen crowing at dawn, and engaging in endless wars... I will tell all the scholars in the world that she is the true traitor to the country! As for me, Kong Zhiqian, though I am in the northern desert, my heart is with China. My actions today are not to aid and abet evil, but to borrow the troops of the grasslands to carry out the righteous act of purging the emperor's corrupt advisors and pacifying the country! When the day is accomplished, I will surely restore the rites and music and rebuild the world!"

"This proclamation must be disseminated through all channels to every academy and every prefecture in the Great Qian Dynasty. It may not immediately incite those scholars to rise up in response, but it will plant a seed of doubt and wavering in their hearts. When the oppressive policies of the court and the defeats on the battlefield combine with this seed, it will take root, sprout, and grow into a towering tree, tearing Murong Yan's rule apart from within!"