RPAGF Chapter 87 I Have a Letter
Chapter 87 I Have a Letter
"A duel." Yang Yan turned his head, a meaningful sneer curling at the corner of his mouth. "Your opponent is Yang Xuangan."
Upon hearing this name, even though Qin Qiong was far away in Qizhou, his eyes narrowed and the shaft of his lance rotated slightly in his palm.
"Could it be Yang Xuangan, the eldest son of Yang Su, the Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel and Duke of Yue? The one known as the 'Reincarnated Overlord'?"
"It is this person."
Yang Yan nodded, a cold smile playing on his lips. "This man possesses extraordinary strength. Although he is not as cunning as his father, Yang Su, he is indeed a man of unparalleled courage among the younger generation."
At this point, Yang Yan turned to look at Qin Qiong, his gaze carrying a hint of scrutiny.
"A few days ago, under my guidance, Duke Pushan Li Mi and Yang Xuangan made a bet. Six days later, each side will send three people to compete in five events at the Daxingyuan training ground, including archery, horsemanship, and infantry combat."
"Uncle Bao, that Yang Xuangan wields an eighty-pound iron spear and runs rampant in Daxing City. I now ask you, do you dare to take the lead?"
Qin Qiong did not answer immediately upon hearing this.
He simply raised the lance in his hand slowly and flicked the tip of the lance lightly with his finger.
"Buzz—"
A clear, resonant sound echoed through the air.
On Qin Qiong's face, which was as resolute as a rock, there was no fear whatsoever. Instead, the excitement and fervor of a hunter seeing a ferocious beast appeared.
"Your Highness, rest assured."
His voice was deep and resonant, like the beating of a war drum.
"Even if Yang Xuangan were a reincarnation of Xiang Yu, since Your Highness desires victory, then my spear will not allow him to sit on the horse!"
"Six days from now, I will surely unseat him and use him as a sacrifice for Your Highness's banner!"
This was Qin Qiong's confidence, and also the pride ingrained in his bones as a warrior. Being timid before battle was never Qin Shubao's style.
"Good! That's the kind of momentum I want!"
Yang Yan laughed loudly, feeling much more at ease.
With Qin Qiong and Li Mi, his military team was beginning to take shape.
But... that's not enough.
Far from enough.
The situation in Lingnan was complex and complicated. The Turks in the north were eyeing the region covetously, and Goguryeo was also making frequent moves in Liaodong.
Qin Qiong can lead the charge, and Li Mi can advise and strategize, but to coordinate the overall situation, win decisive victories, and even stabilize the world in the great chaos that will sweep across the land in the future, a true genius is needed.
A man who could make the "Three Heroes of the Wind and Dust" willingly submit, a man revered by later generations as the "God of War".
The name flashed through Yang Yan's mind. At this very moment, that person should still be wasting his years in a minor official position in Chang'an County, full of talent but with nowhere to use it, feeling frustrated and unfulfilled.
"Shubao, there's no rush at the training ground. Come with me to another place first."
Yang Yan suddenly pulled on the reins, turned the horse around, and the direction that was originally heading north towards Daxingyuan became the direction heading west towards Chang'an County Government.
"Where to?" Qin Qiong was taken aback, somewhat unable to keep up with the prince's leaping thoughts.
Yang Yan gazed at the bustling city life in the direction of Chang'an County, his eyes shining with the greedy and fiery light of a dragon that had discovered a priceless treasure.
"I am going to see someone. If this person can win his heart, then the half of the Sui Dynasty will be secure."
Qin Qiong was taken aback and subconsciously asked, "In this capital, besides Duke Pushan and His Highness, are there really such figures?"
"Of course."
Yang Yan smiled mysteriously, squeezed his legs against the horse's flanks, and the Jade Lion of the Night shot off like an arrow.
……
The Imperial Stables Bureau of the Secretariat.
Here, there is no sound of bustling city life, only the ticking of the palace water clock and the soft rustling of turning pages. The air is filled with the faint scent of sandalwood ash and old brocade, which, compared to the sour smell of the county government office, adds a sense of alienation and oppression belonging to the palace.
Light streamed in from the high windows, but seemed particularly stingy at this moment, only able to illuminate countless specks of dust floating in the air.
The piles of documents were not neighborhood lawsuits, but rather patterns and registers of various carriages, ceremonial robes, and palace utensils.
Behind a large desk, a man in a light blue official robe was intently proofreading a volume of "Regulations for Carriages and Luge".
He was about twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, with a lean face and deep, chiseled features. Most striking were his eyes, which, even when checking the intricate dimensions of an object like "thirty-two spokes on a carriage wheel," possessed a sharpness and composure like that of a hawk.
Beneath that calm exterior lay a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of alienation and loneliness.
With his vermilion brush hovering in mid-air, Li Jing looked at the illustrated book that had been read countless times by predecessors, a self-deprecating smile curving his lips.
As the art of war says: "Swift as the wind, silent as the forest."
But now, all his talent and learning can only be used to count cartwheels. His uncle, Han Qinhu, once said that he could talk about military strategy and philosophy, but the officialdom of the Sui Dynasty values family background and seniority, and doesn't care whether you have a million soldiers in your heart.
"The Prince of Changning has arrived!"
A sharp yet high-pitched announcement instantly shattered the stagnant silence within the Zhichangsi.
Li Jing's hand, holding the brush, paused slightly. The drop of ink, fully coated with vermilion, finally fell onto the paper, spreading out in a glaring red.
Prince Changning? Yang Yan?
The eldest grandson of the emperor, who is rumored to be exiled to Lingnan in a few days? What is he doing in such a lowly government office?
Although I had my doubts, the rules could not be disregarded.
Li Jing quickly put down his pen, straightened his clothes, and strode around the desk, just in time to meet the young man in black robes who strode into the hall.
Behind the young man was a towering military general, exuding a menacing aura. However, the young man's demeanor was not diminished in the slightest by the general; on the contrary, it made him appear even more dignified and composed.
"Your humble servant, Li Jing, Chief of the Imperial Secretariat, pays respects to His Highness the Prince of Changning!"
Li Jing lifted the corner of his robe, preparing to perform the full kneeling ceremony.
However, before his knees even touched the ground, a pair of strong hands had already supported his arms.
"Brother Pharmacist, there's no need for such formalities."
Yang Yan's voice was gentle, yet carried an undeniable force, and he firmly helped Li Jing to his feet. He looked the slightly thin young official up and down, his gaze intense, as if examining a rare treasure.
"So you are Li Jing, the nephew of General Han Qinhu, also known as Pharmacist Li?"
Li Jing was slightly taken aback, then lowered his head and said, "It is indeed your humble servant. I wonder what brings Your Highness to this sordid place today...?"
"Pharmacist Li."
Yang Yan interrupted his official speech, and instead of answering immediately, he took out a slightly yellowed letter from his pocket, gently pushed it onto the dusty desk, and placed it in front of Li Jing.
His expression became unusually solemn, and the original air of a grandson of the emperor was somewhat restrained, replaced by a sense of respect for the deceased and expectations for the living.
"I have come here today not as the eldest grandson of the emperor, but on behalf of a deceased general to see the outstanding talent he cherished most in his lifetime."
Li Jing's pupils contracted sharply when his gaze fell on the words on the envelope.
That's... my uncle's handwriting!
He was all too familiar with that vigorous, powerful stroke that seemed to penetrate the paper. Since his uncle's passing, he could only see that handwriting in his dreams.