Quick Transmigration: The Pregnant Little Fairy is Pampered by the Heirless Boss

Chapter 355 Princess Chang's Rebellion 16

Three days later, representatives from the three northern cities gathered in a makeshift tent.

The charcoal fire blazed brightly inside the tent, but it couldn't dispel the chill on everyone's faces.

An elderly man with white hair, leaning on a cane, spoke shakily: "Your Excellency, we people of the North... do not want to be abandoned again."

His voice was hoarse, yet every word struck like a hammer blow to everyone's heart.

"The Ying Kingdom's court increased taxes and conscripted soldiers, yet never sent a single soldier to defend against the enemy. We have been defending the city for three years, and the fields are littered with corpses of the starving, but the court's reinforcements have yet to arrive."

Another middle-aged farmer slammed his fist on the table and stood up abruptly: "We've had enough! If the new summer is willing to protect us, we are willing to submit!"

The tent instantly erupted in cheers, with everyone echoing the sentiment.

Ji Xiaosong raised her hand to signal for quiet and slowly stood up.

"Gentlemen," she said, looking around at the crowd, her voice clear and strong, "the New Xia will not force anyone to submit. But if you join voluntarily, the New Xia will give you equal rights. Land will belong to the tillers, taxes will be light forever, children can go to school, and men will no longer be forced into military service."

She paused, her gaze sharp as a knife: "But there is one condition: slavery must be completely abolished in the North, and all people, regardless of their birth, must be free."

The tent was completely silent.

Many nobles in the North still kept slaves, and this clause undoubtedly affected their interests.

Finally, a local gentryman dressed in old-fashioned official robes gritted his teeth and stood up: "Your Excellency, if we agree, can the new Xia truly protect us from invasion by enemy countries?"

Ji Xiaosong answered without hesitation: "Yes."

"Very well!" The local gentry ripped off his official hat and threw it on the ground. "On behalf of Linjiang City, I pledge allegiance to Xinxia!"

Others responded.

With public opinion already made up, Ji Xiaosong no longer hesitated.

She ordered the First Legion of the New Xia to continue northward to wipe out the remaining enemy forces;

At the same time, government officials were dispatched to take over the three northern cities and implement the new Xia policies.

Zhao Wushang was promoted to the position of Garrison Commander of the Northern Border for his military achievements, and was put in command of the newly formed Northern Border Army.

When he received the letter of appointment, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly beneath the iron mask.

“Ruling,” he whispered, “I was once the executioner of Ying Kingdom…”

Ji Xiaosong interrupted him: "You are now the protector of the people of Xinxia."

She reached out and gently tapped his iron mask: "This thing should be taken off."

Zhao Wushang's fingers trembled slightly at the edge of the iron mask.

He had worn it to kill countless enemies, and under its cover, he had carried out those orders that kept him up at night.

The iron mask was both his armor and his shackles.

It allowed him to avoid showing his true face and to look directly at the souls that died by his sword.

Now, Ji Xiaosong wants him to take it off.

He took a deep breath, exerted force with his knuckles, and the metal buckle made a soft "click" sound.

The mask was slowly removed.

The northern wind blew directly onto his face for the first time; it was cold, yet inexplicably made his eyes well up with tears.

He kept his head down, not daring to look up, as if he had removed not a mask, but the last layer of shame.

"Look up." Ji Xiaosong's voice was soft, but it left no room for argument.

He struggled to lift his face, facing the new Xia's ruler for the first time with his true face.

He had an old scar at the corner of his eye, his nose was slightly crooked due to multiple fractures, and his lips looked cold and hard from being tightly pursed for a long time.

This is the face of a battle-hardened warrior, and also the face of a sinner.

Ji Xiaosong gazed at him, her eyes calm as still water.

“Zhao Wushang,” she suddenly called his full name, “do you know why I put you in charge of guarding the northern border?”

His Adam's apple bobbed: "Because...this humble general is familiar with the enemy's tactics."

"wrong."

"Because...this humble general is familiar with the military system of Ying State."

"That's not right either."

Zhao Wushang remained silent.

He couldn't think of any other reason.

Ji Xiaosong took a step forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. Her palm was warm; the warmth could be felt even through his armor.

"Because the people of the North need someone, someone who truly understands 'pain', to protect them."

Her voice was soft, but every word was like a hammer blow: "You've seen hell, so you know better than anyone how to prevent others from falling into it."

Zhao Wushang's breathing suddenly became rapid.

He thought of the woman protecting her child in the south of the city, the blood-stained words on Sima Rui's chest in the imperial prison, and the families fleeing from the west gate.

Those images tormented him day and night, but now, Ji Xiaosong tells him that this pain is not a curse, but a source of strength.

He suddenly knelt on one knee, his armor striking the frozen ground with a dull thud.

“To govern…” His voice was hoarse beyond recognition, “My life, Zhao Wushang…”

The words caught in his throat.

He wanted to say "I swear to be loyal to you to the death," and "I would gladly die ten thousand times over," but these words were too light, too light to be worthy of this trust.

In the end, he simply lowered his head deeply, pressing his forehead against the tip of Ji Xiaosong's boot.

This is a ceremony heavier than any oath, the most solemn pledge of loyalty by soldiers on the frontier.

Ji Xiaosong did not dodge.

She accepted his bow, then bent down and helped him up herself.

“Remember the wind of today,” she brushed the snow dust off his armor, “it is the wind of freedom.”

Zhao Wushang tilted his head back, letting the biting wind of the northern border completely dry the moisture in his eyes.

He suddenly realized that this was not forgiveness.

Ji Xiaosong never forgave his crimes; she only gave him a chance, a chance to atone for them with the rest of his life.

This made him more grateful than any pardon.

*

When news of Zhao Wushang reached Yingjing, Ji Xuanye was furious.

"You lowly people! Traitors!"

He smashed everything on his desk, his eyes bloodshot. "I'm not dead yet! How dare they seize my territory!"

The newly appointed prime minister trembled with fear: "Your Majesty, the northern border has completely sided with Xinxia. All the spies we sent have been exposed by the people..."

"Shut up!" Ji Xuanye grabbed the Prime Minister by the collar. "Mobilize all the Imperial Guards! I will personally lead the army and cut off Ji Xiaosong's head!"

The Prime Minister's face turned ashen: "Your Majesty, the Imperial Guards... number less than 30,000, and their provisions are even more..."

"Shut up!"

Ji Xuanye's roar echoed in the imperial study, shaking the window frames.

He grabbed the prime minister by the collar and dragged the sixty-something-year-old man like a rag doll to the imperial desk.

The military report from the northern border, spread out on the table, still carried the warmth of the galloping horse, the ink stains spreading like bloodstains.

"Your Majesty...this old minister..."

The prime minister's white beard trembled, and his cloudy eyes reflected the emperor's distorted face.

"I order the Imperial Guards to be mobilized!"

Ji Xuanye grabbed the bronze inkstone with one hand and splashed the ink on the Prime Minister's face. "Where are the 300,000 troops? Huh? Where are my 300,000 elite warriors?"

Ink dripped down the Prime Minister's wrinkled face, like streaks of black tears.

The old man's Adam's apple bobbed: "They...they've all fled to Xinxia..."

"lie!"

The cold light of the Emperor's Sword flashed across the sky as it was drawn from its sheath.

With a flick of his wrist, Ji Xuanye pressed the tip of his sword against the Prime Minister's throat, leaving a bloody indentation on his aged skin.

"Your Majesty is wise..."

The prime minister tilted his head back, not daring to swallow, "Last month alone, five battalions of soldiers deserted under cover of night... and the grain transport teams turned back halfway through their journeys..."

He suddenly grabbed the hem of the emperor's robe, "This old minister humbly begs Your Majesty to negotiate peace with the eldest princess..."

The dull thud of the sword piercing flesh interrupted the pleas.

Ji Xuanye stared wide-eyed at his hand, where the Emperor's Sword, passed down through twelve generations, had already penetrated three inches into the Prime Minister's throat.

Scalding blood gushed out from the sword groove, splashing onto his robe embroidered with golden dragons, turning the bright yellow into dark red.

"you……"

The prime minister's eyes bulged out, his withered fingers still gripping the dragon robe, and he made a "clucking" sound in his throat.

His body slowly slid down, eventually kneeling before the emperor, like a clay sculpture that had been overturned.

Ji Xuanye loosened his grip on the sword hilt and staggered back two steps.

The Prime Minister's body remained kneeling, the hilt of the Emperor's Sword pointing straight to the sky, like an eerie tombstone.

"Ha ha ha ha……"

The emperor suddenly laughed, and the laughter echoed in the blood-soaked study.

He walked around the corpse, his boots making a sticky sound as they stepped into the spreading pool of blood.

"Peace talks?"

He questioned the air as if the prime minister were still alive, "My prime minister wants me to bow down to that vile woman?"