Chapter 343: The Solution

Hua Zhi arched a sharp brow, her voice carrying a razor's edge. This time, though, she wasn't aiming to plunge a dagger into Wu Yong's chest—at least not yet. Instead, she delivered her line with a silk-laced sneer. "I hear General Wu is twenty-six. Not married, sure, but there’s been a woman warming your bed for a while now. With the Wu family’s… flexible rules about heirs from concubines, it’s a wonder. Years gone by, and yet no son, no daughter. Why is that?"

Wu Yong's jaw tightened, the faintest crack in his calm. “The physician said the time hasn’t come yet.”

Hua Zhi didn’t bother hiding her amusement. "Oh, please." Before Wu Yong could snap back, Shao Yao stepped in, her words as blunt as the blade she always seemed ready to wield. "That doesn’t add up. You had issues before, but those were fixed when I cleared your poison last time."

Wu Yong’s gaze shot to her, dark and stormy. His tone dipped, low and lethal. "What issues?"

The room went taut. Shao Yao blinked, catching the slip of her own sharp tongue. No backtracking now. She moved closer, her fingers gripping his wrist with a professional briskness that didn’t match the wild tension simmering between them.

“It’s on me,” she admitted, her voice quieter but no less pointed. “I missed something before. You’ve got traces of a toxin still in your system—not exactly poison, but something… insidious. It’s designed to stop women from conceiving, but the kicker? It’s rare to see it used on men.”

Hua Zhi leaned back, letting a laugh tumble out, slow and mocking. "Well, well. How long has your... troubled concubine been in your household, General Wu? And the physician? Timing for children, was it? Sounds like this mystery woman isn’t the only one you need to look at. Perhaps your entire inner circle needs cleaning out."

Wu Yong’s laugh came next, bitter and sharp as broken glass. "Deliberate. Aiming to wipe the Wu name off the map? Clever. I’ll give them that." He turned, the fury in his eyes barely leashed. "Prince, I’ll be taking my leave."

A voice cut through, steady and cold. "Not yet. Keep it quiet. The net isn’t ready to close."

Wu Yong clenched his fists, his nod curt, controlled. “Understood.”

As soon as Wu Yong was out of sight, Gu Yanxi fixed his gaze on Ah Zhi. "What’s running through that head of yours?"

Ah Zhi’s expression sharpened. "Don’t you think the Chaoli tribe’s activity near Yingshan Pass reeks of trouble?" She was circling an idea, her unease tightening like a vice. "If they were planning something, wouldn’t Shouai Pass—the eastern flank—be the smarter move? Yingshan Pass is nowhere near their usual turf."

Gu Yanxi tilted his head, the gears turning. "You’re saying Yingshan might be their endgame?"

"Not necessarily." Her voice was clipped, restless. "They thrive on misdirection, but this... this feels off. Why pour so much effort into Yingshan Pass? Unless..." Her words trailed off, the realization coiling tight in her chest.

In one motion, Ah Zhi was on her feet, the shock spilling into her movements.

"Ah Zhi?" Gu Yanxi followed, his stride quick and deliberate. With a flick of his wrist, he nudged Shao Yao aside, her glare sizzling but ultimately powerless as she sulked to the far corner.

"I just pieced something together," Ah Zhi said, her voice thick with urgency. "What if—" She paused, swallowing back her doubt. "What if the Chaoli tribe and the grassland tribes struck some kind of deal?"

Gu Yanxi’s jaw tightened, his first instinct to dismiss it. His spies had turned up nothing about an alliance, and historically, the Chaoli and grassland tribes clashed more than they cooperated. But the Chaoli tribe had been playing the long game lately, planting moles and pulling strings all across the Daqing Dynasty. If they were smart enough to weave that web, teaming up with the grasslands didn’t seem far-fetched anymore.

Without another word, Gu Yanxi moved toward the door, every step deliberate. He stopped at the threshold, his tone brisk. "I’ll be gone for a few days. Yingshan Pass is your call until I return. If something comes up, they’ll report to you."

Ah Zhi’s breath hitched. "I’m not—" She caught herself, straightening her spine. "Understood. Be careful."

Gu Yanxi’s gaze flicked to Shao Yao, his meaning clear.

Shao Yao threw up her hands in surrender, muttering, "I won’t leave her side."

Even so, Gu Yanxi’s worry lingered like smoke. He summoned Jia Yang, rattled off a string of precise orders, and without so much as a pause, strode out into the night. He needed answers—and fast. He needed to confirm this matter personally.

Inside the room, Hua Zhi pondered for a moment, then pulled Shao Yao in front of her, "Go find Wu Yong, tell him about my suspicions, and let him know what to do."

"I won't go." She wouldn't leave Hua Hua's side, "I'll send someone."

Hua Zhi didn't insist. Alone in the room, she revealed a bit of her inner anxiety. If the Chaoli tribe had colluded with the grassland tribes outside the borders, then Yingshan Pass would not just be a decoy. It could become the point of their real attack at any time.

In case of a war...

Yingshan Pass could handle a battle with the grassland tribes, but if there were some members of the Chaoli tribe involved, Yingshan Pass would have no chance.

How to solve this problem?

Reinforce?

The elite forces of the Daqing Dynasty were on the east side, guarding against the Chaoli tribe, so those forces wouldn't move. Even if more troops from other camps were sent, it would only mean sacrificing lives, with no guarantee of victory.

What to do then?

What could she do?

Hua Zhi’s thoughts churned like a raging storm. Her teeth sank into her tongue, sharp pain flaring up and leaving her eyes bloodshot. She could make money, sure. She could bankroll war supplies, whisper strategies stolen from the greats, and act as a cog in the grand machine. But she couldn’t make the Daqing Dynasty’s army untouchable. She wasn’t Hua Jingyan, the kind of mastermind who could steer the tide of wars with a flick of her wrist.

If the enemy smashed through the gates, her gold wouldn’t mean a damn thing. They’d take her life before she could hurl a single coin at them.

She was powerless. Faced with overwhelming force, every tactic she had was a limp excuse for a fight. The sheer truth of it crashed down on her, raw and unrelenting. For the first time, Hua Zhi truly grasped the weight of absolute strength.

Just fending off the Chaoli tribe was bleeding the empire dry. And if the grassland tribes joined the fray? Her chest tightened. The bitter taste of despair clawed its way up her throat. Her thoughts spiraled, chasing the darkest possibilities.

No. Snap out of it. Think, Hua Zhi. Think again.

The Chaoli tribe’s caution wasn’t without reason. If they were truly ready, they’d have struck already. No, something held them back—weakness, hesitation, or timing. Whatever it was, it bought them time.

Hua Zhi rose sharply, her resolve sharpening with every step to the study. The room stood hollow and quiet. She struck a match, lighting the lamp before rolling out a map stolen from Wu Yong’s residence. Ink, paper, her hair tied back in a quick knot—she knelt on the floor, eyes burning as they scanned every inch of the map.

Shao Yao hovered silently nearby, eventually settling beside her. She didn’t interrupt.

Hua Zhi clawed at her memory, dredging up strategies from the Three Kingdoms, forgotten military treatises, and half-baked ideas scrawled in the dirt. She even dragged Shao Yao into her frantic pacing, testing theories, and running through scenarios. But it all crumbled under scrutiny. Even tossing lives like dice on a table wouldn’t guarantee victory.

At last, she scribbled two stark words onto the paper: Haoyue and Gunpowder.

If her suspicions about Haoyue held water, then she had a glimpse of the empire’s fate. If the Daqing Dynasty was doomed to fall, Haoyue wouldn’t have bothered with the Seven Stars Bureau at all.

And gunpowder—still crude, still primitive—it could at least tilt the scales. Not enough for domination, but enough to give them a shot.

After a long pause, she wrote a third line: Strike first.

If they could blindside the grassland tribes, rip through their forces before they joined hands with the Chaoli, they’d at least narrow the battlefield. A single enemy instead of two fronts. But that would take precision—perfect timing, flawless positioning, and people ruthless enough to make it happen.

The grassland tribes weren’t prey. They were predators. And the margin for error? Razor-thin.

———TN: Ah, the thrill's kicking in... the tangled threads of the web are starting to untangle, sharp and vivid now.

"That’s a wrap for today’s translation grind. Catch you next time."