A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

Zhang Huo and Zhang Yan also fell silent, and the three brothers stood there for a long time.

Finally, Zhang Yan spoke, his voice slightly hoarse:

"If the Holy Fire Cult is defeated, how will you deal with these people?"

Zhang Yan took a step forward, and his two brothers on the left and right tried to stop him, but he raised his hand to hold them down.

"As you said yourself, most of these millions of people are ordinary citizens who are simply being led around."

Zhang Yan looked at Wei Zhao: "Some of them have wielded knives, some have robbed grain, and some have shouted to kill officials. But they were originally just farmers, refugees fleeing famine, and people looking for a way to survive with their children."

He paused, and then twitched the corner of his mouth.

"Emperor Xinwu, you say I harmed them. Fine, I admit it."

A commotion arose within the Holy Fire Sect's formation.

The expressions of the several altar leaders changed drastically. Just as they were about to speak, Zhao Qiniang had already raised her knife and pointed it at them.

"Anyone who dares to interrupt will be shot first."

The crossbowman raised his arm.

The mouths of those altar masters were shut.

Wei Zhao felt a slight sense of relief.

Zhao Qiniang is quite adept at using this knife.

She doesn't talk much or try to steal the spotlight, but she always manages to be perfectly positioned.

The most dangerous thing about religious groups is when someone continues to stir up trouble.

Just as the fire was about to die down, someone poured oil into it.

We can't let them splash it now.

Zhang Yan continued, "But if they really put down their knives, would you let them go?"

That's a very direct question.

It's also very toxic.

Because millions of displaced people are listening.

If Wei Zhao were to order the killing, the Holy Fire Sect would immediately reunite.

Since surrendering means certain death anyway, I might as well fight to the death.

A complete amnesty is not an option either.

Can a leader who commits murder and arson, a key member who forces good people into thievery, and a madman who administers drugs to hasten suicide be released with just the excuse of being coerced?

What about the county officials, commoners, and soldiers they killed?

The emperor cannot speak only for his own pleasure.

A swift and decisive statement could lead to the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people.

Wei Zhao gripped the gun barrel tightly, his voice steady.

"I will not kill those who lay down their swords."

The crowd suddenly fell silent.

Wei Zhao did not stop.

"Those who were forced to return home and wish to do so will be registered. Those without land or food will be provided with grain, seeds, and resettlement land by the imperial court."

A woman holding a child looked up, tears mingling with the dust as they fell.

Wei Zhao saw it.

He felt a tightness in his chest.

It's easy to say, but incredibly difficult to do.

Where does the grain come from?

Where does the money come from?

Who will take charge of local officials?

Millions of people are not like hundreds of sheep; you can't just herd them back and call it a day.

This is a battle that is more troublesome than fighting a war.

But he cannot back down.

If they back down, these millions of people will truly have no choice but to follow Zhang Yan down the path to their deaths.

"But I will not let go of any of the altar leaders who commit murder and arson, the key figures who force the people to charge into battle, or those who administer blood powder and shake the death bell."

Wei Zhao's gaze swept over the members of the altar hidden in the crowd:

"They're not just trying to survive; they're using other people's lives to pave the way for themselves."

The faces of the several altar masters turned pale.

it is good.

It's good that you're scared.

Wei Zhao was afraid they wouldn't be afraid.

Zhang Yan stared at him: "What are you going to use to settle this?"

Wei Zhao smiled.

"You think I only brought troops?"

Zhang Yan didn't say anything.

Wei Zhao raised his hand and pointed in the direction of the capital.

"Before I came, I had already instructed Li Huai to stay in the capital to audit the accounts."

Upon hearing the name Li Huai, several surrendered Imperial Guards nearby raised their eyes.

That commoner prime minister is now confiscating property in the capital more ruthlessly than bandits, and this news has already spread throughout the army.

To be honest, the soldiers really enjoyed it.

They fought desperately on the front lines, and what they hated most was that someone in the rear was embezzling their supplies and pay.

"Ministry of Revenue, Ministry of Works, Ministry of War, Ministry of Justice—whoever embezzles disaster relief funds, sells military equipment, receives a salary without working, or sells prison positions—I will order the confiscation of their property."

Wei Zhao's voice turned cold:

"Half of the confiscated silver and grain went to the army, and the other half was used for relief."

Zhang Yan's eyelid twitched.

Wei Zhao continued, "The same applies to the four great families. If the Wang, Zheng, Cui, and Lu families are willing to contribute money, grain, and ships, I will give them a way to survive. If they are not willing and want to hedge their bets, I will replace them with another group of four great families."

As soon as he finished speaking, even Liu Jingshuang turned around and glanced at him.

Wei Zhao knew how harsh those words were.

But now we have no choice but to be ruthless.

The resettlement of millions of people cannot be achieved by simply talking about benevolence and righteousness.

We need grain, money, ships, an accounting office, and manpower.

These powerful families have ruled the world for so many years, but now that the world is in ruins, do they want to retreat to their mansions and drink tea?

dream.

"But that's not enough."

Wei Zhao looked at Zhang Yan: "That's why I need you."

Zhang Yan was stunned.

The two brothers on either side were also stunned for a moment.

Zhang Yan, the thinner one on the right, was the first to react and sneered:

"You need us? You want to recruit us? Emperor Xinwu, you certainly know how to scheme."

Wei Zhao didn't even look at him.

The third brother, who only knows how to use hidden weapons, has no right to interrupt.

His gaze was fixed only on Zhang Yan in the middle.

"Zhang Yan, you brought them out."

"But if you really know you're wrong, then stand up."

Wei Zhao said, word by word: "Announce their surrender, tell them to lay down their knives, tell them that the Xinwu Dynasty will provide food, tell them not to charge anymore, not to rob anymore, and not to be pushed to their deaths by the altar master anymore."

Zhang Yan's lips moved, but no sound came out.

The fatter guy on the left panicked: "Big brother! We can't surrender! If we surrender, the Holy Fire Cult is finished!"

Wei Zhao looked over coldly.

"The Holy Fire Cult should have ended long ago."

The man glared at Wei Zhao.

Wei Zhao didn't indulge him at all.

"I accept your opening of soup kitchens to save people. I also accept your killing of corrupt officials and local tyrants. But using drugs to hasten the deaths of your soldiers, using civilians to block cavalry, emptying out villages, boiling crops, and dragging the elderly and children to the battlefield—this is not saving people."

He raised the tip of his gun, pointing it at the black and red flags lying in the mud.

"This is a sin."

The man on the left had a flushed face, but couldn't utter a curse.

Because there are still red-eyed assassins on the ground who haven't died.

They had white foam dripping from their mouths, their eyes were frighteningly red, and some had half their heads chopped off, their fingers still clutching at the mud.

With this thing right in front of you, no one can pretend they don't see it.

Zhang Yan looked down at it for a long time.

Wei Zhao did not urge him.

The battlefield was strange. Swords and spears were still raised, and 100,000 men and a million followers faced off across corpses, yet the few steps in between were eerily quiet.

Wei Zhao knew that these few breaths were even more important than the charge just now.

The charge was lost, but only soldiers died.

If you lose with just a few words, millions of people will have to keep rolling into the fire.

Zhang Yan finally spoke.

"If I surrender, will you kill me immediately?"

Wei Zhao said, "No."

Zhang Yan looked at him.

Wei Zhao added, "At least not now."

The skinny guy on the right changed his expression:

"Look! He said it! He still wants to kill!"

Wei Zhao smiled.

"nonsense."

His smile surprised many people.

"You three brothers have caused such a huge mess, resulting in so many deaths. If I were to pat you on the shoulder now and say I'll forgive and forget, what would I look like?"

Wei Zhao's voice carried far.

"Once these millions of people have been resettled, once those who should return to their hometowns have returned, those who should receive their rations have received them, and once the trial of those who should be tried has been completed, I will then pronounce judgment on the crimes of you three brothers."