Chapter 173:

A soldier near Yue Fei immediately spoke, his tone filled with caution.

“The Great Zhou generals are truly cunning. This must be a ploy to sow discord!”

Another added, “Indeed, General Yue, you must not fall for it.”

A third voice followed, urgent and insistent.

“Yes, we are on the verge of victory. We can’t fall into their trap!”

Their words overlapped, each man echoing the same sentiment.

Yue Fei smiled and waved a hand. “Rest assured, I would never believe the words of an enemy nation.”

Only then did the tension ease, and his men exchanged glances of relief.

Moments later, the same soldier ran back, breathless.

“General, the envoy has left, but he said that Great Zhou’s offer stands indefinitely.”

Yue Fei’s gaze turned cold. “Ignore it. I will attack Great Zhou soon. Do not spread such words to sow discord.”

His voice was firm, leaving no room for doubt.

The soldiers exchanged wary glances but responded in unison, “Yes, General.”

The following morning, as dawn’s first light crept over the camp, Yue Fei had just risen from sleep when hurried footsteps disrupted the quiet. A subordinate rushed in, his expression uneasy.

“General, something bad has happened...”

Yue Fei’s heart clenched. “What is it? Did the Great Zhou army attack?”

The man shook his head quickly. “No, General, it’s not the Zhou army. A soldier caught a fish in the nearby river, and when he cut it open, he found a note inside.”

His voice wavered, hesitating on the next words. “It says... it says...”

Yue Fei’s brow furrowed. “What does it say?”

The soldier swallowed hard. “It says, ‘The Song Dynasty falls, Yue Fei becomes king.'”

A sharp glint flashed in Yue Fei’s eyes. His thoughts raced. This was no coincidence—someone was framing him. His jaw tightened.

“How many people know about this?”

The soldier shook his head, uncertain. “I don’t know, General.”

Yue Fei’s mind worked swiftly. He was no fool. The note wasn’t his doing, which meant someone had orchestrated this to incriminate him. His fist clenched. There was no time to waste—he had to reclaim the northern territories quickly and return to explain himself before the emperor.

…

Ten days later, in the heart of the Song Dynasty’s capital, within the imperial palace, the hurried sound of footsteps echoed against polished marble floors.

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty...” Li Yan burst into the hall, panting heavily.

Zhao Ji, seated upon his throne, frowned at the intrusion, his gaze laced with displeasure.

“What is it?”

Li Yan’s face was grave as he took a steadying breath.

“Your Majesty, I have heard... I have heard some troubling news about General Yue, but I am unsure if I should speak of it.”

Zhao Ji’s eyes narrowed. “Yue Fei?” His voice held an edge. “Speak.”

Li Yan hesitated before biting his lip. “It is said that many people in the northern territories are placing their hopes on General Yue to reclaim the land.”

Zhao Ji arched a brow. “Isn’t it natural for them to have such hopes?”

Li Yan’s voice lowered, cautious. “Yes, but... I have also heard whispers among the people. They believe that once General Yue reclaims the north, he should establish his own rule...”

A heavy silence fell over the chamber. Zhao Ji’s posture stiffened, his fingers gripping the carved armrest of his throne.

“Set up his own rule?” His voice was dangerously low.

Li Yan immediately prostrated himself, his forehead touching the floor.

“Your Majesty, these are merely rumors among the people. I do not know if they are true, but the whispers have spread far, even reaching Lin’an.”

The hall remained deathly still, the weight of Li Yan’s words pressing into the air. Zhao Ji’s expression darkened. He had granted Yue Fei command only after careful deliberation. He knew of the general’s capabilities, but this...

His mind whirled. A loyal and powerful minister leading an army of hundreds of thousands—how could he not be concerned? He had buried such thoughts before, convincing himself of the greater good.

But now, Li Yan’s words resurfaced them, feeding his unease. If Yue Fei reclaimed the lost lands, with his unparalleled prestige, what would stop him from declaring himself king?

His breathing quickened.

Seeing the reaction he had hoped for, Li Yan pressed on.

“Your Majesty, I have also heard troubling reports from the front.”

Zhao Ji’s gaze snapped to him. “Oh?” His voice was colder now, edged with suspicion.

Li Yan felt a flicker of unease at the emperor’s darkening expression but quickly continued.

“It is said that our soldiers caught a fish in the river, and inside its belly was a note that read, ‘The Song Dynasty falls, Yue Fei becomes king.'”

Zhao Ji’s fingers twitched against the armrest.

Li Yan lowered his voice. “This is no baseless gossip, Your Majesty. The entire army knows of it—many saw it with their own eyes. Someone placed that note there.”

He paused, then added in a near whisper, “Who else could it be but Yue Fei himself?”

Zhao Ji’s face turned ashen. He slammed his palm against the table.

“What exactly is Yue Fei up to? Haven’t I placed enough trust in him?”

Li Yan’s tone remained measured, but his eyes gleamed with calculated intent.

“Your Majesty, your kindness to him is as great as the heavens, but even the strongest loyalty can waver before the temptation of ruling half a kingdom. Can he truly resist?”

A long silence followed.

Then Li Yan struck the final blow.

“Your Majesty, I even suspect that Great Zhou has reached some kind of secret agreement with him. Otherwise, how could their once-unbeatable army suffer multiple defeats at his hands?”

Zhao Ji’s suspicion deepened, and regret slithered into his chest. Sending Yue Fei to war had been his decision, but now, with the general commanding the finest troops of the Song Dynasty, he had unknowingly placed a blade against his own neck.

Li Yan pressed forward.

“Your Majesty, their general, Heichi Changzhi, has publicly stated that if Yue Fei defected, he would be granted a noble title, a second-rank military position, and even the governorship of Yangzhou. This shows just how much Zhou is willing to invest in him.”

Zhao Ji’s breath hitched. “Did he truly say that?”

Li Yan nodded solemnly. “Your Majesty, I would not deceive you. You need only ask, and many will confirm it.”

Zhao Ji clenched his jaw. “What should I do now?”

Li Yan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.

“Your Majesty, Yue Fei now seeks to drive the Zhou army out of the north. But Zhou’s forces are stretched thin, their attention divided between the Turks and the Qing. If they continue to fight, Yue Fei may truly defeat them...”

He paused, letting the weight of that possibility settle before delivering the final stroke.

“But if we negotiate instead—offer the Zhou some silver—they may choose to retreat willingly. That way, the northern territories will be reclaimed under Your Majesty’s name, and Yue Fei will have no claim to the victory.”

Zhao Ji’s expression shifted. Suspicion gave way to calculation, then understanding, then something close to triumph.