Chapter 132: Ambition

Chen Sinian sat in the main hall of the Prince of Beichang’s mansion, his expression somber. It was not just that the Tidi tribe had plundered the cities in Wei Siyuan’s fiefdom; nearly half of his own cities had been occupied as well.

Observing Wei Siyuan’s calm and composed demeanor, Chen Sinian frowned slightly and asked with a tone dripping with sarcasm. Wei Siyuan, who had been reading a letter with indifference, turned his head at the question and smiled naturally.

"Why would you say that, Brother Sinian? You know the weather in the Northern Frontier as well as I do. Neither of our armies can mobilize in this climate. No matter how high and mighty the Emperor is, she cannot defy the will of Heaven."

Wei Siyuan signaled to the servants, who promptly withdrew. Only then did he stand up, walk to the door with a smile, and gently close it, causing the room to dim slightly.

"Brother Sinian, why such panic? Haven't the Tidi people always been like this in years past? Look at what this letter says: they are merely transporting grain and materials from the cities. When the time comes, they will have to return to the Far North to spend the winter."

Chen Sinian did not look at the letter. Instead, he stared at Wei Siyuan with suspicion, his tone full of doubt.

"If someone else said this, I might believe it. But coming from you, Brother Wei, I really have to think twice. You say these Tidi people have plundered before, but never with such a grand scale of conquest. Furthermore, the common people in these cities have been detained—neither released nor killed. Don't you find that strange?"

Chen Sinian scrutinized Wei Siyuan’s expression, attempting to find a trace of the truth.

"I have indeed considered what you mentioned, Brother Sinian, but so what? The mountain passes in our Northern Frontier are already sealed by heavy snow. In a month or two, the Far North will be locked in a deep freeze. If these people do not retreat from the cities by then, they will truly have no way out and no reinforcements."

Wei Siyuan spoke with great confidence, as if he had already grasped the Tidi tribe’s Achilles' heel. While Chen Sinian might be inferior to Wei Siyuan in schemes and plots, he was his equal in military strategy. If things were truly as Wei Siyuan described, then in a month or two, once the Tidi had finished hauling the grain, they could simply launch an offensive. Without reinforcements, the Tidi, trapped in these cities, would be like fish on a chopping block.

Chen Sinian spoke softly before rising to leave. "I hope it is as you think."

Wei Siyuan remained silent, watching Chen Sinian depart with a smile.

"Does he believe it?"

A raspy voice emerged from the back hall after Chen Sinian had left. The Poison Saint, Ou Yi, watched the departing figure with a thoughtful expression and asked in a low voice.

Watching Chen Sinian leave, Wei Siyuan’s smile vanished. He sat back in his chair, his face cold, and pulled an unopened letter from a stack of confidential dispatches. He read it carefully while responding to Ou Yi.

"He does not."

Just as Wei Siyuan had predicted, Chen Sinian had walked away the moment his theory was voiced; he no longer trusted a word Wei Siyuan said. Eleven cities had been captured, the vast majority belonging to their two fiefdoms, while only one of the Prince of Jiangyuan’s cities had been taken. How could the Tidi tribe, having gone to such lengths and mobilizing hundreds of thousands of troops, be foolish enough to settle for mere supplies?

Chen Sinian had left simply because he had already obtained the answer he sought. The Tidi appeared to be moving supplies back, but they had not touched anything else in the cities—a complete departure from their usual behavior. There was no pillaging or slaughter; instead, most things remained intact. There could be only one conclusion: they would not retreat. On the contrary, they would continue to send reinforcements to hold their ground. The Tidi were playing for keeps this time. Once they secured these cities, they would move more of their people into them as soon as the bitter winter in the Far North passed. They intended to use the cities of the Ye Dynasty to expand their own territory.

"So, he has already guessed your true objective?" The Poison Saint glanced at Wei Siyuan, asking with some surprise.

Wei Siyuan smiled without answering and picked up his brush to prepare a reply. This was another overt scheme. With ten cities lost from their combined fiefdoms, the two were now invisibly bound together. Chen Sinian’s questioning earlier had been nothing more than a test of Wei Siyuan’s stance. Once he confirmed that this was indeed Wei Siyuan’s plot, he saw no reason to pursue it further.

"I will have to trouble you, Elder Ou." Wei Siyuan finished the letter and handed it to Ou Yi, speaking with courtesy.

"It is nothing, just a bit of exercise. Helping you is not without a price; as long as you fulfill what you promised me, that is all that matters." As he spoke, Ou Yi seemed to recall something. He offered a soft warning before taking flight. "The Prince of Changwu’s cultivation is not low. Even I cannot clearly gauge the extent of his strength. You had best be careful."

As a Saint, traveling ten thousand miles in a single day was a trivial matter. Wei Siyuan watched the direction in which Ou Yi had departed—the direction of the Tidi in the Far North.

"Cannot see through him?" Wei Siyuan pondered Ou Yi’s final words, his expression turning thoroughly grim.

For someone like Ou Yi, a Saint, to be unable to gauge another’s strength, there were only two possibilities: either the person was also a Saint, or they were someone extremely close to the Saint realm. The Prince of Changwu was the first of the vassal kings to enter the ranks of Grandmasters, but with no supernatural phenomena manifesting, the chances of him being a Saint were low.

Wei Siyuan’s mind raced, analyzing the situation. After a moment of contemplation, he could not help but smile, a hint of self-mockery appearing on his face.

"I am truly confused. Now that he and I are bound together, it is to my advantage if he is not a Saint. And if he truly breaks through to become one, it is even better."

In this world, once one attained the rank of Saint, they could no longer openly claim the title of King or Emperor, or they would be sanctioned by the others. Wei Siyuan even harbored a secret hope that Chen Sinian would become a Saint; if he succeeded in his own campaign, Chen Sinian would be a tremendous asset in his ascension to the throne. Kong Mo in the capital might not intervene in civil wars, but Ou Yi was ultimately kept in check by him. If Chen Sinian became a Saint and Wei Siyuan ascended the throne, the entire Ye Dynasty would have four Saints. With such numerical superiority, he could unify the world.

Thinking of this, Wei Siyuan felt his pulse quicken.

Meanwhile, in a guest room, Chen Sinian sat with his eyes closed in meditation, a faint smirk playing on his lips. It was clear that he had perceived everything that had transpired in the Prince of Beichang’s mansion and had overheard the conversation between Ou Yi and Wei Siyuan. Hearing Wei Siyuan’s self-talk at the end, he could not help but chuckle.

"Who says a Saint cannot be a King?"