Take control of Wei Zhongxian at the start and confiscate 100 million from him!

Chapter 83 You are going to your death, yet you are completely unaware of it.

In May, the wind on the grassland already carries a touch of unreasonable chill, blowing against one's face as if being rubbed by rough sandpaper.

The scent wafted from the banks of the Xilamulun River, crossed the withered grasslands, and lingered over the Khan's tent of the Chahar tribe.

Inside the golden tent, the atmosphere was as oppressive as solidified iron. On the expensive carpet on the floor, there were still a few dark brown bloodstains, left by the defeated generals who had been personally killed by the enraged Ligdan Khan the day before.

The air was filled with the rich aroma of mare's milk wine mixed with fine incense, but it couldn't mask the stench of failure and decay.

Ligdan Khan, a direct descendant of the Golden Family and the nominal ruler of the 440,000 Mongol tribes, was pacing back and forth like a caged beast.

His mink cloak was open, revealing a well-tailored silk robe underneath, but his once dashing face was now clouded with gloom.

The crushing defeat two months ago was like a red-hot iron spike, piercing his heart.

His 40,000-strong army was utterly routed by the rebels he had always looked down upon, the Kharachin and Ordos. What pained him even more was that the 3,000 elite troops he had sent to trade with the Ming Dynasty in Zhangjiakou, which had returned with a full load of goods, were also ambushed on their way back and almost completely wiped out.

Overnight, he lost almost half of his family's wealth.

Even more devastating is the collapse of prestige. The rules on the grasslands are simple yet cruel: the strong possess everything, while the losers have nothing!
He could clearly sense that the tribal chiefs who had once groveled at his feet now looked at him with something else in their eyes—pity, contempt, and… a restless greed.

He knew that the jackals were lurking in the shadows, waiting for him, the wounded lion, to bleed to the last drop.

"Great Khan." The voice of the head of the personal guards rang out outside the tent, trembling slightly. "The Southern Dynasty... has sent an envoy."

Lin Danhan abruptly stopped, slowly turned around, and two violent flames instantly ignited in his bloodshot eyes.

"Southerners? At this hour?" His voice was as deep as the rumble before a thunderstorm. "Are they here to see me in this state? Or do they think my blade, Lin Dan, is no longer capable of cutting anyone?"

Failure made him like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, filled with extreme vigilance and hostility at the slightest disturbance.

"Get out!" he squeezed out through gritted teeth. "Let them go back to their turtle shells! It's none of their business how the Mongols do things!"

The head of the personal guards paused outside the tent for a moment, but did not immediately retreat. Instead, he braced himself and continued, "Great Khan, the messenger says he is not a civil official from the Court of State Ceremonies, but... a member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. He says he brings a message from the new emperor of the Ming Dynasty, concerning Your Majesty's... life and death."

Jinyiwei.

These three words were like a cold needle, piercing through Lin Danhan's furious rage.

Of course he knew what the Embroidered Uniform Guard was.

Those were the henchmen of the Ming Dynasty emperors, venomous snakes lurking in the darkness, and all-pervasive eyes and ears.

When the civil officials from the Court of State Ceremonial arrived, he could refuse to see them or humiliate them. But when the Embroidered Uniform Guard arrived, especially at this critical juncture, the situation took a completely different turn.

"Life or death?" Lin Danhan sneered. "What arrogance! Let him in. I want to see what kind of boastful dog the emperor of the Southern Dynasty has raised."

He sat back down in his tiger-skin chair, picked up the gold cup on the table, and downed a glass of strong liquor in one gulp. The spicy liquid slid down his throat, but his frenzied heart grew colder under the influence of the alcohol.

When Lu Wenzhao entered the golden tent, his first feeling was cold.

It wasn't the cold of the weather, but a chilling cold that seeped into my bones, a chilling mix of murderous intent and despair.

Without looking to the side, he walked straight to the center of the tent, saw the bloodstains on the carpet, smelled the mixed odors in the air, and felt the gaze that seemed to want to tear him apart as it came from the tiger-skin chair.

"Lu Wenzhao, Commander of the Northern Garrison of the Imperial Guard of the Great Ming Dynasty, by order of His Majesty the Emperor, pays his respects to the Great Khan of the Chahar Mongols." He bowed respectfully, his movements precise and his voice steady.

Lin Danhan didn't speak, but stared intently at him, as if trying to see right through him. The atmosphere inside the tent was so heavy it was almost palpable.

After a long silence, Lin Danhan finally spoke, his voice hoarse: "Why are the commanders of the Embroidered Uniform Guard not enjoying their lives in the capital, but instead coming to this windy and sandy land of mine?"

Lu Wenzhao straightened up and, meeting Lindan Khan's gaze, said word by word, "Your Majesty sent me here only to tell you one thing—you are about to die, yet you are completely unaware of it."

"Insolence!" Lin Danhan roared in fury, slamming his hand on the table. The golden cup bounced up, splashing wine everywhere!

Upon hearing the sound, the guards outside the tent instantly gripped the hilts of their swords.

"I, Lin Dan, have dominated the grasslands for twenty years! My life and death are not for an emperor of a Southern Dynasty to dictate!" His roar was like that of a wounded beast.

Lu Wenzhao, however, seemed oblivious to his anger, his face remaining calm and composed. He took out a roll of parchment bound with a thin cowhide rope from his pocket, slowly unrolled it, and laid it on the table in front of Lin Danhan.

The moment the map unfolded, Lin Danhan's breath caught in his throat.

This is clearly the military map he distributed to the commanders of various units before the war! Even the troop symbols he specially designed for secrecy are exactly the same!
But when his gaze swept across the upper right corner of the map, his heart sank. There, in Mongolian shorthand, was a wolf's head emblem clearly marked, next to two small characters—Tumen.

This is the copy he distributed to the right-wing chief of staff, Tumen!
But that wasn't what chilled him to the bone. What truly froze his blood were the newly added scarlet cinnabar markings on the map—ambush zones and interception lines he'd never seen before, belonging to the enemy!
Lu Wenzhao pointed his finger at one of the canyons highlighted with a red circle.

"Great Khan, please look here, Eagle's Beak Gorge. On your own map, the Kharachin tribe has clearly marked their main ambush area. According to your original plan, your army should have bypassed the open area to the north, rendering the ambush here useless."

Lin Danhan's lips began to turn pale. He stared intently at the canyon, which should have been empty, but was now covered with red triangles representing the enemy.

Lu Wenzhao's finger moved slowly, pointing to another dotted line on the map, also drawn in vermilion, that ran through the canyon. This dotted line perfectly overlapped with the raid route suggested by Tu Men.

"The day before the general offensive, Tumen advised you that a small group of enemy cavalry had been spotted on the southern front, and suggested that the main force take a shortcut through Eagle's Beak Gorge to catch the enemy off guard. You adopted his suggestion."

Lu Wenzhao withdrew his hand, his tone calm but his words sharp as knives:

“Our people copied this map. Now it seems that the enemy did not anticipate your actions, but rather had your map and was waiting for your most trusted commander to personally lead you into their trap.”

boom--!
Everything works!

Why were Tumen's suggestions so accurate? Why did the enemy's ambush seem to appear out of thin air?
It turns out that Tumen wasn't giving him advice; he was reciting a pre-prepared lie while looking at the enemy's map!

He handed over not just a map, but the fate of the entire Chahar tribe!
Lin Danhan staggered back a step, grabbing the pillar behind him to keep from falling. He felt a bone-chilling cold, ten thousand times colder than the wind on the grassland.

The victory blueprint he drew by hand became the tomb plan prepared for him by the enemy, and the one who led him into the tomb was the person he trusted most who held the blueprint!

Just as Lin Danhan was in despair, Lu Wenzhao took out another item from his pocket and gently placed it on the map.

It was a small account book with a cover made of indigo cloth, a common material in the Central Plains, which was quite different from the rough sheepskin map.

"Great Khan, betrayal on the battlefield requires a map, but betrayal in the rear only requires a price." Lu Wenzhao's voice was devoid of emotion as he opened the ledger and pointed to a page.

There was only one brief record on it: "On the day of Guiyou, 50,000 taels of silver were given to Lang Wang Nanlu Zhi'an."

The handwriting was simple, but the words "Wolf King" made Lin Danhan's pupils contract again.

“This is a secret account of the Wang family, a Shanxi merchant family,” Lu Wenzhao explained calmly. “The person in charge of the Wang family has already confessed in our prison. Wolf King is their code name for Tumen, and the contents of this transaction are the entire route and schedule of your three thousand elite camel caravan returning from Zhangjiakou.”

Black wolf flag… wolf head emblem… Wolf King!
All the clues suddenly connected in Lin Danhan's mind, forming an undeniable web of betrayal!

On the main battlefield, Tumen used the map he personally taught to lead his army into a dead end; while on the trade route thousands of miles away, he exchanged a piece of intelligence for 50,000 taels of silver, which cost him his last supplies and 3,000 elite troops!
This is not two separate failures, but a planned strangulation orchestrated by collusion between insiders and outsiders!

Lin Danhan suddenly raised his head and stared intently at Lu Wenzhao, his eyes seeming to want to devour him alive. He finally understood that the person in front of him was not there to show off.

"How...how do you know these things?" His voice was dry, like two pieces of sand rubbing together.

“The eyes of the Embroidered Uniform Guard can see many things that you, Great Khan, cannot.” Lu Wenzhao closed the dossier and handed it to Lin Dan Khan, his tone as calm as if he were talking about a trivial matter.

“For example,” he paused, then took out another letter sealed with sealing wax from his pocket and gently placed it on the table, “the leaders of the Kharachin tribe have jointly written a letter to Huang Taiji in Shengjing.”

"The letter discusses a joint military operation to carry out a thorough annihilation of the Chahar tribe before the fall of this year."

Lin Danhan's body jolted violently.

He knew those traitors would defect to the Later Jin, but he didn't expect them to act so quickly or with such malicious intent!

"This is just wishful thinking on their part!" Lin Danhan said, forcing himself to speak, but his voice already carried a weakness he himself was unaware of. "Huang Taiji has just ascended the throne, and the internal situation is unstable. He might not dare to..."

“He wouldn’t dare.” Lu Wenzhao interrupted him without any mercy.

“Because the Kharachin tribe gave him a reason he couldn’t refuse.” Lu Wenzhao’s gaze sharpened like a knife as he stared at Ligdan Khan and said, word by word, “They promised Huang Taiji that as long as the Later Jin sent troops, they would offer up the pastures of the Right Banner of Kharachin as grazing land for the Eight Banners. Furthermore, they would take the lead in supporting Huang Taiji as ‘Bogdo Khan’.”

Lin Danhan staggered back two steps and plopped back down on the tiger-skin chair. The hall was deathly silent except for his heavy breathing, his chest heaving violently as if it were about to explode.

His cloudy eyes were fixed on Lu Wenzhao, like a wounded lone wolf, trying to find even the slightest flaw in the other's face to prove that it was just a clumsy lie.

However, Lu Wenzhao's expression was as calm as a deep pool of water, without the slightest ripple.

Lindan Khan's gaze shifted from sharp to unfocused. He recalled the submissive faces of the Kharachin leaders in the past, faces that were now distorted and blurred in his memory, eventually turning into a series of ferocious mocking expressions.

Bogd Khan? How dare they!
(End of this chapter)