vncnus Chapter 62 Uprising
Chapter 62 Uprising
In the blink of an eye, more than a month has passed.
Spring is growing stronger in Lin'an, but the atmosphere in the city is becoming increasingly oppressive and anxious.
The news that the imperial court was going to sign a peace treaty with the Jin Dynasty could not be kept secret in the end. It spread like wildfire throughout the streets and alleys of Lin'an City.
The teahouses along the Imperial Street were packed, with customers gathered in twos and threes, discussing the peace talks and arguing heatedly.
"A disgrace to the nation! Absolutely a disgrace to the nation!" An old man with white hair and beard slammed his fist on the table, trembling with rage. "Demoting uncle and nephew to elder uncle and nephew, increasing the annual tribute by 300,000 taels of silver, and ceding the three prefectures of Lianghuai! Shi Miyuan, that treacherous minister, is simply a reincarnation of Qin Hui!"
"Sir, please watch your words," a tea drinker next to him quickly tugged at his sleeve and lowered his voice. "If the Imperial City Guard hears this, you'll lose your head."
"I'd say it even if it cost me my head!"
The old man, his eyes red, shouted, "Back then, Marshal Yue fought valiantly to preserve half of this country, and now they're just giving it away so easily! They've completely disgraced our ancestors!"
"Sigh, we can't win a war, and what else can we do but negotiate peace?" A merchant at the next table shook his head with a bitter face. "A few years ago, that Han official called for a northern expedition, which caused many families in the Huai River region to be destroyed and people to lose their businesses. If war breaks out again, how will we ordinary people survive? If we negotiate peace, at least we can have a few years of peace."
"Peace and stability? This peace and stability is bought with the honor of our ancestors! It's just a matter of prolonging our lives!" The old man was so angry that he blew his beard and glared, but he was helpless.
Anyone with eyes can see that this person probably has a military background, hence his grief and indignation.
This teahouse is just a microcosm of the entire city of Lin'an.
There are no secrets in the officialdom of the Southern Song Dynasty; the entire city is discussing the peace talks.
Some supported the peace talks, some condemned the traitors, and some were filled with grief and resentment. But no matter what the people said, Shi Miyuan still firmly controlled the government in the court, and the terms of the peace talks were still being pushed forward in an orderly manner.
The rain is coming and the wind is all over the building.
Everyone knows that once this peace agreement is signed, the humiliation will be real.
But no one knew that a storm that would change the fate of the Song Dynasty was quietly brewing in a secluded courtyard in Lin'an City.
The night was as dark as ink, the moon was hidden and the stars were few.
Outside Lin'an City, the Dongchang Villa was brightly lit, as bright as day in the training ground.
More than three hundred men dressed in black, holding long swords, stood in neat square formation in the center of the training ground.
A chilling atmosphere pervaded the entire queue.
Upon closer inspection, one would notice that everyone in the queue had a flat Adam's apple and a somewhat effeminate look in their eyes and brows; they were the self-castrated people that Zhao Yu had gathered.
Over two months, they practiced the Evil-Repelling Sword Manual day and night, completely transforming these ordinary people who originally had no martial arts foundation.
The longswords in their hands hung slightly, their breathing was steady and long, and even if they stood still, they exuded a sharp killing intent.
On the high platform of the martial arts arena, Zhao Yu stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the crowd below.
Beside him, Wang Huai'an stood with his hands at his sides.
"An army is raised for a thousand days, but used for only one."
Zhao Yu's voice rang out slowly, not loud, but clear enough to reach everyone's ears.
"For the past two months, you've trained day and night, sweating and enduring countless hardships. You know it all, and I've seen it all. Now, it's time to put them to the test. Next, it's time to see who's truly capable. I ask you, do you dare?"
As soon as he finished speaking, there was an immediate response from the audience.
"dare!"
"I would gladly die for the King! What is there to fear!"
"Your Majesty, whatever your command, I will brave mountains of knives and seas of fire!"
They are people who dare to be ruthless to themselves. For a bite to eat or a chance to get ahead, they would even castrate themselves, let alone wield a knife against others.
From the crowd, an impatient man stepped forward, cupped his hands, and said, "Your Majesty, who do you want us to kill? Just tell us, and I'll draw my sword and take his head off for you."
This man was one of the centurions of the Eastern Depot, and also one of the best at practicing the Evil-Repelling Sword Technique among this group.
Zhao Yu looked at the enthusiastic crowd below the stage and nodded in satisfaction.
Immediately, a smile appeared on his lips, and he said in a deep voice, "Very well, since you all dare to do this, then I will tell you our target. The Jin delegation inside the Duting Post Station."
"Tonight, you will all accompany me and slaughter all the Jin envoys and guards inside, leaving no one alive. Can you do it?"
Upon hearing this, the previously noisy and bustling martial arts arena instantly fell silent.
The excitement and enthusiasm on the faces of the crowd below the stage instantly vanished, and they looked at each other in bewilderment.
Although they came from humble backgrounds, they weren't fools.
Especially since they wanted to enter the palace, they would naturally have some understanding of politics.
Now the entire city of Lin'an knows that the imperial court is negotiating peace with the Jin Dynasty. Killing the Jin delegation at this time is tantamount to slapping the Jin people in the face in public.
The peace talks between the two countries will inevitably break down, and may even directly lead to war between them.
What exactly does this king who took them in and taught them martial arts want?
Unbeknownst to others, Wang Huai'an, standing on the high platform, felt a jolt of unease upon hearing these words.
These days, observing Zhao Yu's various actions, he had already begun to have a vague suspicion in his heart.
It seems that our prince is about to do something earth-shattering.
But it wasn't until he heard Zhao Yu's plan to kill the Jin delegation that he finally realized that his king was probably plotting a rebellion.
Killing the Jin delegation and breaking the peace agreement will inevitably cause chaos throughout the court and the country.
Leaving no way out for oneself, what else could it be but rebellion?
Wang Huai'an stood there, a bitter smile on his face.
He glanced down at the long sword at his waist, then at the bewildered members of the Eastern Depot below the stage, and countless thoughts raced through his mind.
Does he have any way out?
No more.
From the day he followed Zhao Yu, he had no way out.
If Zhao Yu succeeds, he will be a founding father of the nation, enjoying generations of glory; if Zhao Yu fails, as his confidant, he will surely be the first to be dragged out and executed by slow slicing.
Now that things have come to this, he has no choice but to follow Zhao Yu wholeheartedly and go all the way down this path.
Thinking of this, Wang Huai'an took a deep breath, and his previously flustered eyes gradually became firm.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zhao Yu caught a glimpse of Wang Huai'an's changing expression and nodded almost imperceptibly.
Fortunately, Wang Huai'an did not disappoint him.
Then, Zhao Yu looked ahead, raised his hand and gently pressed it, uttering two words: "Silence."
The sound wasn't loud, but it carried an invisible pressure that swept across the entire training ground.
The audience felt a sudden tightness in their chests and instantly fell silent, all whispers vanishing without a trace.