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Peroz was sweating profusely, but he had no choice. Preserving the royal title, relying on the Chinese army to fight the Arabs, and having a glimmer of hope to recover some territory—that was the best possible outcome.

"This treaty...is fair and just, reflecting the care and protection of the superior nation for the Sassanids. Your Majesty...on behalf of the Sassanids, I gladly accept it without objection."

Peroz turned to the old minister behind him, who understood and presented the remaining golden seal of the Sassanid dynasty.

Both sides solemnly affixed their seals to the treaty. The Hua Empire's seal was the "Xuanwei Zhenfu Shi Si Guan Fang" and the personal seal of Prince Yi Junze, while the Sassanid side's seal was the golden seal of the King of Peroz.

The texts were exchanged, and the treaty officially came into effect.

The Chinese representatives in the hall remained calm, as if they had completed a routine official task. The Persian side, however, was filled with a complex mix of emotions.

After the ceremony, Peroz seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, but after a moment's hesitation, he tentatively spoke again, his manner even more cautious: "Your Highness... I have another matter to ask for the grace of the Kingdom."

"speak."

Yi Junze picked up the teacup beside him and said calmly.

"During this defense of the city, I personally witnessed the power of the nation's firearms; they are truly... truly divine weapons."

Peroz's eyes revealed an undisguised longing and pleading: "The Arabs are powerful, their cavalry are swift and fearless. If the Sassanids wish to reclaim their lost territories and consolidate their borders, they will find it difficult to continue without strong weaponry. I wonder... I wonder if the superior nation could... could bestow upon us some methods for making firearms and cannons? Or perhaps send craftsmen to provide guidance? The Sassanids are willing to give everything in return!"

Upon hearing this, Xue Rengui frowned slightly, and his hand on his sword tightened unconsciously. Several of his Chinese subordinates exchanged glances, all seeing the coldness and wariness in each other's eyes.

Yi Junze gently put down his teacup, but it made Peroz's heart skip a beat.

Yi Junze's voice remained calm, but the temperature dropped several degrees. His eyes, which were fixed on Perus, seemed to be filled with frost: "Firearms are the most important military and national weapons of the empire, the foundation of the nation. Their manufacturing process is listed as the empire's top secret, and no one but our core Chinese craftsmen and generals may hear about them. This precedent must never be broken."

His tone was firm and unwavering, leaving no room for negotiation.

Peroz's face paled, and he tried to plead further: "Your Highness, the Sassanids are now vassals, their loyalty is beyond question..."

"Precisely because we are a vassal state, we should uphold the vassal state status even more."

Yi Junze interrupted him, his voice even colder: "Today, I might as well make myself clearer."

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze pressing down on Peroz with an almost tangible intensity, making it difficult for Peroz to breathe.

"The Empire has the strictest and most ruthless prohibitions and investigation methods against the outflow of firearms technology. Let alone voluntary grants, even if a firearm component is stolen or blueprints are leaked in the military—regardless of whether there are any actual consequences—all those involved, regardless of rank, will be executed immediately and their entire families will be exterminated. And any tribe, city-state, or... nation suspected of having obtained the technology will also be punished."

Yi Junze paused, each word like an ice pick, striking the hearts of Peroz and all the Persians.

"The Empire will not listen to their explanations. The Imperial City Guard and the Border Army will immediately mobilize to uproot them, behead their leader, and demote all nobles, artisans, and even literate adult men to the lowest rank of 'labor slaves,' exiling them to the most harsh and dangerous mines and pioneering lands, never to be released. Women and children will become government slaves. The land... will be designated as a 'civilized zone' directly under the Empire's jurisdiction."

The hall was deathly silent, with only Yi Junze's cold voice echoing, carrying a chilling, absolute will.

"Your Majesty, do you understand? This is not a matter for bargaining. This is a bottom line that the Empire must never cross. I hope you will remember what I have said today."

Peroz was drenched in cold sweat, his legs were weak, and he could barely stand. He had no doubt about the truth of the prince's words. The Hua Empire absolutely had the capability, and absolutely would do so! He had already witnessed a glimpse of that ruthless and efficient style of destruction at the foot of Mulu City and in Ziad's camp.

"Your Majesty... Your Majesty understands! You would never dare to have any improper thoughts again! The entire Sassanid government will strictly abide by this law and would never dare to violate the taboos of the superior nation!"

Peroz bowed deeply, his voice trembling with tears, almost as if he were swearing an oath.

Seeing Peroz utterly terrified, Yi Junze's icy expression slowly faded, a slightly strange smile curving his lips. He leaned back in his chair, his tone becoming somewhat subtle:

"However, Father also said that the Empire prohibits the outflow of technology, which is to prohibit 'theft' and 'extortion'. But... if someone from another country is truly gifted and, by chance, independently 'invents' something similar to a firearm entirely through their own talent and effort, and there is conclusive evidence to prove that their research and development process is unrelated to the Empire..."

His gaze swept over Peroz's face, which suddenly showed a faint glimmer of hope, yet was also filled with confusion.

"Then, the Empire will not only not pursue the matter, but may even... be happy to see it happen. Of course, this 'conclusive evidence' must be extremely detailed, including every detail supporting the inventor's complete learning experience, experimental records, material sources, and even the source of inspiration. It must withstand the most rigorous joint review by the Empire's 'Academy of Natural Sciences and Crafts' and the Imperial City Guard. If there is even the slightest doubt, and it cannot prove absolute 'autonomy,' then..."

Yi Junze didn't finish his sentence, but the chill emanating from his unfinished words was even greater than the direct threat he had just made.

This is simply a paradox!
To demand both "independent invention" and an impossibly detailed "chain of evidence" to prove no connection to the Chinese Empire? This practically seals off any possibility of acquiring technology through normal channels, yet leaves a seemingly real but ultimately elusive "loophole." It's more like... a condescending mockery, or a deeper, arrogant declaration of "civilizational creativity."

The nascent spark of hope in Peroz was extinguished instantly, leaving only a deeper sense of bewilderment and powerlessness. Faced with absolute power and technological superiority, the so-called "restoration" and "strength" could only be completely subservient to the will of the Chinese Empire, acting in accordance with the rules set by the Empire; there were absolutely no shortcuts.

"Your Highness, I will remember your teachings."

In the end, Peroz could only lower his head deeply, suppressing all his resentment and ambition deep within his heart.

Yi Junze said no more, waved his hand, and signaled the end of the meeting.

Peroz, feeling as if granted a pardon, led his distraught subjects, bowed once more, and slowly withdrew from the main hall. His retreating figure appeared hunched and forlorn.

The hall fell silent again.

Xue Rengui stepped forward and said in a low voice, "Your Highness, was this reprimand too much...?"

"Too harsh?"

Yi Junze glanced at him, his gaze profound: "Xue Qing, you must remember this. For these Western Region states, and even the vast majority of forces in the world, a combination of kindness and severity must be employed, with severity always preceding kindness. Moreover, they must understand, to the core, what the inviolable line is. Firearms are the empire's most inviolable bottom line. If we do not thwart their thoughts today, trouble will surely arise tomorrow. I am merely making the rules set by my father clearer."

He stood up and looked at the rising autumn sun outside the hall.

"As for that path of 'independent invention'..."

Yi Junze's strange smile reappeared: "Let's leave a little... uncertain variable for this boring world, and see if there are any real geniuses who can break free from these constraints."

He said no more, turned and walked towards the backyard, Bai Qing'er followed silently.

Xue Rengui stood rooted to the spot, pondering the Crown Prince's words, a chill running through him. This young heir apparent possessed a depth of thought, a ruthlessness of character, and an extraordinary vision far beyond the comprehension of ordinary people. The future of the empire, in this Crown Prince's hands, would likely be even more turbulent and magnificent than it was now.

...............

News of Ziad's death and the army's rout at the gates of Merv spread westward at an alarming speed.

Initially, the retreating remnants of the Abbasid Caliphate attempted to regroup in other towns in Khorasan, awaiting further instructions from the Eastern Governor Mu'awiyah. They even spread rhetoric such as "the infidels are lucky" and "God is testing them" to stabilize morale. However, they soon discovered that they were no longer facing the Persian remnants that they could have easily defeated with cavalry charges.

The imperial army, like a tiger unleashed from its sheath, surged westward, carrying the momentum of the great victory at Mulu.

The first to engage the vanguard of the Chinese army was an elite Arab cavalry force of about 5,000 men, led by General Khalid, who had been ordered to reinforce the east and attempt to stabilize the situation.

Confident in their superior speed and skill, and knowing that the enemy's forces seemed to be weaker than their own (the Chinese vanguard consisted of two elite thousand-man units personally led by Xue Rengui and some Sasanian auxiliary troops), they resolved to fight a traditional cavalry duel on the open plains to wash away the shame of Mullah.

In the winter wilderness, the cold wind howls and the withered grass grows lush and green.

The Arab cavalry formed a traditional, dense charging formation, their horses puffing out white breath, the riders shouting "Allah is the greatest!", their scimitars gleaming coldly in the pale sunlight, the sound of their hooves rumbling like muffled thunder, their momentum terrifying. They believed that with this unstoppable momentum, they could tear apart any infantry defense.

However, the Chinese army's formation was eerily quiet.

The two thousand-man squads did not form a heavy square formation, but rather deployed in a seemingly loose line. At the forefront were several rows of crouching musketeers, followed by the second and third rows standing ready. On each flank were several hundred heavy infantrymen armed with halberds and large shields, along with a small number of cavalry for cover. On the high ground in the center of the formation, the muzzles of more than ten light field guns were already adjusted, their dark muzzles pointing sharply at the surging tide of cavalry.

Xue Rengui stood on a low slope behind the enemy lines, holding his "Zhenyue Halberd," his face grim. Several officers beside him, each holding a monocular telescope, were continuously reporting the distance to the enemy cavalry.

"Eight hundred paces!"

"Stay calm."

"Six hundred paces! Entering artillery range!"

A cold glint flashed in Xue Rengui's eyes: "Artillery, free fire, open fire!"

"Boom! Boom boom boom—!"

The deafening roar of cannons suddenly shattered the silence of the battlefield! Orange muzzle flashes ripped through the air as solid iron balls and shrapnel whistled out, tracing deadly paths before crashing into the front lines of the Arab cavalry charge!
In an instant, men and horses were thrown into chaos!

Solid shot cleaved through the dense formation, leaving trails of blood and carnage in its wake, men and horses alike shattered in its wake. Grappling, like a rain of iron from the Grim Reaper, covered a fan-shaped area, riddling the leading cavalrymen with bullets, their riders and horses falling with screams. The once-ordered charge was instantly split into several gaping holes, thick smoke and the stench of blood filling the air.

The Arab cavalry's charge was momentarily halted, but the cavalry behind, driven by inertia and fervor, continued to spur their horses forward desperately, attempting to close the distance quickly and take advantage of their close-quarters combat skills.

"Four hundred paces! Prepare the muskets!" The officer's shout pierced through the cannon fire.

The first rank of musketeers silently rested their flintlock muskets firmly on their shoulders, their eyes fixed on the knights, their faces contorted in the smoke, through the sights.

"First row—release!"

"Bang! Bang bang bang bang—!"

A cacophony of explosions, more intense and piercing than cannon fire, erupted! White smoke billowed from the front lines. Lead bullets hurtled out at speeds imperceptible to the naked eye, creating a deadly storm of metal!

The leading Arab cavalrymen seemed to have crashed into an invisible wall; dozens of riders in the front ranks almost simultaneously burst into blood, screaming as they fell from their horses. The horses neighed and collapsed, tripping their comrades and causing even greater chaos. The range, accuracy, and volley fire power of the Chinese muskets far exceeded any long-range attack the Arabs had ever encountered.

"Second row—step forward! Release!"

"Third row—ready!"

The well-trained Chinese musketeers, guided by the muscle memory forged through rigorous training, took turns firing and reloading. Before the smoke had even cleared, the next volley followed! Lead bullets, like the scythe of death, reaped lives layer by layer. The Arab cavalry's prized speed and charging momentum were rapidly worn down by the relentless barrage. They had never experienced such despair—before even touching a single enemy hair, they had suffered heavy losses, their comrades falling in gruesome ways.

"God! What kind of weapon is this?!"

"We can't get through! We simply can't get through!"

Fear, like a plague, began to spread through the charging ranks. Some cavalrymen tried to turn around, looking for weak points, but the Chinese heavy infantry on both flanks stood ready with their halberds, and the few cavalrymen who managed to break through were quickly stabbed off their horses.

Khalid watched from the rear, his eyes bloodshot, his heart pounding with fear. He personally led his most loyal guards in a last-ditch effort to tear an opening from the front.

Just then, the drumbeats in the Chinese army changed!
The musket fire suddenly stopped, and the smoke dissipated slightly.

Suddenly, the Chinese army's lines split to the sides, and hundreds of Chinese soldiers, dressed in light armor and wielding long swords, crossbows, or other unusual weapons, charged out like cheetahs.

They were not ordinary soldiers, but rather skilled martial artists, elite scouts, or even low-ranking officers selected from the army, whose individual combat abilities far exceeded those of ordinary soldiers.

Faced with the already routed and greatly slowed Arab cavalry, these men displayed terrifying individual bravery and tactical skill. They avoided the head-on charge of the warhorses, focusing their attacks on the horses' legs and the riders' lower bodies. A flash of blade, a broken horse's leg; a hail of crossbow bolts, and a rider fell from his horse.

Once in close combat, the fighting skills displayed by the Chinese soldiers were difficult for the Arab cavalry, who were accustomed to slashing from horseback, to adapt to. Their moves were ruthless and direct, and they often worked in groups of three to five, coordinating perfectly to quickly eliminate lone or trapped enemy cavalry.

Even more impressively, some of them possessed extraordinary cultivation, their fists and feet imbued with the power of wind and thunder, their palm strikes shattering the internal organs of horses, and their finger strikes piercing vital points in leather armor. Although such individuals were few in number, their superhuman combat prowess further shattered the Arabs' psychological defenses.

Khalid was targeted by three skilled Chinese soldiers. He was a formidable fighter, his scimitar wielded with impenetrable precision, but he found his prized swordsmanship ineffective against the Chinese soldiers' sophisticated combined attacks and the occasional, subtle finger strikes. In less than ten exchanges, a Chinese soldier wielding a hook-and-sickle spear seized an opening, hooking his horse's leg, causing the horse to neigh and fall. As Khalid tumbled to the ground, another Chinese swordsman swooped in, his blade flashing, and a head, bearing a horrified expression, flew into the air.

The death of their commander was the final straw. The remaining Arab cavalry completely collapsed, no longer caring about honor or faith. With a shout, they turned their horses around and fled westward for their lives.

"Pursue them! Take no prisoners!"

The light cavalry and skilled warriors on both flanks of the Chinese army immediately launched a pursuit, chasing the fleeing Arabs for over twenty miles like herding sheep, until they entered a rugged mountainous area. The wilderness was littered with the corpses of over three thousand Arab cavalrymen and countless abandoned warhorses, while the Chinese casualties were negligible.

This battle vividly demonstrated the overwhelming superiority of the Chinese Empire's army in terms of weaponry, organizational discipline, and individual soldier quality. (End of Chapter)