Chapter 58: Strategy for Defending the City

Illegitimate Son of a Noble House

Song Shi'an's eyes remained utterly calm, while Wei Wusheng was stirred by these words, ripples disturbing his heart.

The smile he had been performing on his face couldn't help but freeze for a moment.

Though he recovered quickly the next instant, that momentary bewilderment was completely exposed.

As if... he had been waiting for exactly these words.

"The crisis at Shuofeng—Your Highness, though a prince of the imperial blood, willingly volunteered for this mission. Such gallant spirit of 'though thousands stand against me, I shall go forth'—this official is deeply inspired."

Song Shi'an immediately followed up with this elaboration.

Zhu Qing and Qin Kuo beside him were unexpectedly not repulsed by Song Shi'an's blatant flattery.

Flattering superiors was the norm—everyone did it. But one's gaze and expression were key.

The reason petty men were petty men was that the corners of their eyes and mouths magnified their fawning emotions infinitely, thereby appearing base and greedy.

Song Shi'an was different in that his attitude, words, and literary grace all showed respect, yet gave an especially self-possessed air.

"Truly worthy of being a man of our Great Yu." Wei Wusheng placed his hand on Song Shi'an's shoulder, patting it several times in considerable approval, his eyes full of appreciation.

What followed was small talk and pleasantries.

Quite formulaic.

And before leaving, Wei Wusheng favored him with a smile: "Though thousands stand against me, I shall go forth—I like that phrase."

After that, Wei Wusheng departed with his entourage.

Including that female guard who had been "dressed as a man" that day.

He hadn't recognized her at first, but from the shape of her face and her eyes, Song Shi'an identified her immediately.

Though he didn't understand why the Sixth Prince had planned to meet him before he even wanted to go to Shuofeng, at least Song Shi'an was clear on one thing—this Wei Wusheng welcomed him warmly.

"Laoye, to think I could actually meet the Sixth Prince, and so close..."

San Gou still hadn't processed it—the distance between him and the Sixth Imperial Prince had been merely a few steps.

"What do you think of the Sixth Prince?" Song Shi'an asked.

"How would I, a mere soldier, dare speak of His Highness?" San Gou said in a small voice after removing his armor. "But he truly is handsome and approachable—I couldn't feel any killing intent at all."

Just now, San Gou had only been awed by his identity.

But he'd never felt that sense of awe that one glance might be considered offense and get him killed.

"Indeed."

Song Shi'an thought the same.

Among the imperial family, he'd seen the Prince of Zhongping, who was also handsome, but somewhat more delicate and profound, completely unlike this Sixth Prince's sunny disposition.

Hopefully his true nature was also of the warm, caring type.

People who were moody and capricious were not easy to serve.

Of course, Song Shi'an wouldn't be serving anyone.

He was about to embark on his own path of "following the dragon."

A good while after the Sixth Prince had left, Song Shi'an extracted the pages from the memorial he'd been writing halfway through and placed them directly over the candlelight, burning them bit by bit.

San Gou beside him looked on in confusion: "Laoye, you wrote for so long—why burn it?"

"Don't ask what you shouldn't ask."

San Gou immediately shut his mouth, becoming obedient.

Guards were different from secretaries, especially temporary ones. Since he couldn't be considered a trusted confidant, there could be no disclosure to him whatsoever.

Though this didn't really count as any valuable secret either.

Originally, his plan had been to submit a memorial to the Sixth Prince during the march, like a job interview, submitting his resume.

But now that the prince so desired his participation, none of that was necessary.

"I'm going out for a while. Guard the door." Song Shi'an told him.

"But the Commander-General's meaning was for me to protect you at all times, laoye."

"His meaning was after the march begins, to ensure my safety. What danger is there within the military camp?"

"...Yes."

Song Shi'an didn't offer further explanation and departed directly.

San Gou obediently stood guard at the door.

Without hesitation, Song Shi'an headed for the Commander-General's quarters.

At the entrance stood elite guards bearing halberds. One of them asked expressionlessly: "Who are you, and what is your business?"

"Magistrate of Shuofeng County, requesting an audience with His Highness."

Song Shi'an replied.

"Please wait a moment, daren."

Upon learning this, one of them immediately went to report.

Soon enough, he emerged and raised one hand: "Daren."

Song Shi'an raised both hands, making a French military salute.

After the man searched him up and down, confirming he carried no weapons, he allowed Song Shi'an to pass.

Thus, with steady steps, he walked toward the interior.

Song Shi'an still remembered his first job interview—he'd been so nervous his hands trembled.

As a rural test-taker from a small village, he had indeed been diligent and good at exams, but compared to those city children who could chat with teachers since elementary school, he lacked much confidence and was more prone to stage fright. His ability to interact with people was naturally a shortcoming.

But people are forged through pressure.

Socializing, eloquence, Mandarin, and using inverted sentences as little as possible—Song Shi'an had put in tremendous effort in these acquired skills.

Finally, he'd reached the level where he could deliver long speeches without notes before a group of leaders.

Of course, what he was about to meet alone now was someone of vice-prince rank.

Just fucking do it.

With composure, Song Shi'an walked to the entrance.

Standing outside the door was that female guard with a sword at her waist and deadly eyes.

Like San Gou, her build wasn't particularly imposing. But likewise, the lines of her muscles—even through clothing—made it clear she was far from helpless.

Song Shi'an clasped his fists in salute to her.

Xinyue stepped aside, making room.

After Song Shi'an entered, she closed the door.

Inside, there was a bronze writing table.

Wei Wusheng, who'd been seated before it, had already risen, standing gracefully with a smile on his face.

"Minister Song, you came on this campaign for my sake."

Without preamble, Wei Wusheng got straight to the point: "This means you have an excellent strategy for defending the city to present to me, correct?"

"Yes." Song Shi'an didn't conceal it at all, answering directly.

Wei Wusheng on the raised platform and Song Shi'an below looked at each other.

The former wore a smile, while Song Shi'an was meticulous and earnest.

"Good." Wei Wusheng knew the other was a clever man, so he stopped pretending: "If your proposed strategy is feasible, I will grant you great authority and absolute trust."

A seventh-rank county magistrate was nothing in this war.

This identity could make no decisions whatsoever.

He needed the Sixth Prince's endorsement.

"Of course, I can give you authority, but whether you can command subordinates and win the trust of those below depends on your own ability."

I'll give you the kasaya, but you must exorcise the demons and devils yourself.

"I understand."

Song Shi'an looked into the other's eyes and asked seriously: "On one point, can I reach consensus with Your Highness?"

"Speak."

"If we go there and employ conventional defensive methods, Shuofeng will inevitably fall. We will all die without even a burial place."

"Yes."

Wei Wusheng answered without hesitation.

"Since Your Highness and Shi'an both hold a determination to die, does that mean orders will be absolute and nothing will be forbidden?"

Once again, Song Shi'an asked.

"Yes."

Wei Wusheng's response this time wasn't quite as swift, but still decisive.

"To hold Shuofeng."

Clasping his fists and raising his head to look at Wei Wusheng, Song Shi'an said resolutely: "I ask that Your Highness shoulder for Shi'an the crime of exterminating nine generations of my clan."