My brother entrusted his child to me, and I livestreamed raising the baby, making the Empress cry wi

Ashina's movement to get up suddenly stopped, like a bowstring that had been drawn halfway and was suddenly stopped.

He paused for a moment, then slowly sat back down.

There was a hint of displeasure on his face from being interrupted, not much, like a thin layer of dark cloud suddenly sweeping across the river, not heavy, but enough to make the water lose its color.

The slight upturn at the corners of his mouth, which had appeared after resolving the issue of who to collaborate with, vanished, returning to his usual cold and aloof expression.

He couldn't help but recall what Dashiman had said to him during a late-night conversation.

It was late at night two days ago, and the rain hadn't stopped.

Spring rain in the Western Regions is usually a rare occurrence, but due to a natural disaster, this rain was exceptionally long, soaking the entire palace in a layer of damp moisture.

The drizzle, carried by the wind and sand, pattered against the windowpane, making a dull, grainy rustling sound.

Ashina sat on a futon, with a sheepskin map on the table in front of him.

The edges of the map were worn rough, and it was covered with charcoal marks indicating marching routes and troop deployments. Some of these marks had been repeatedly erased, leaving behind clumps of gray-black marks.

Da Shiman sat opposite him. They had just finished discussing the strategy for attacking Da Yan again, but they were still not particularly satisfied.

They started talking about something else, and the flame of the mutton fat candle was a pure orange-yellow, reflecting a warm amber glow on the rammed earth wall.

The candlelight cast their shadows on the wall, swaying gently.

Dashiman's voice was low and deep, like an echo rising from a bottomless well. He said:

Your Majesty, you must not take these kings of the South China Sea too seriously.

If they are given too much say and space to participate in politics, they will inevitably band together, collude with each other, and unite to exclude their officials from the Western Regions.

At that time, with power struggles and intrigues, chaos will ensue in the court!

Thinking of this, Ashina looked at Fujiwara no Tsuruhito with more dissatisfaction, with a sense of "as expected, Dashiman was right."

Could it be that this person really harbors some shady, unspeakable thoughts?

He sat up straight, placed one hand on the armrest, and habitually pressed his fingertips against the red agate, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Ashina made up his mind: Although Fujiwara no Tsuruhito gave him a good suggestion—to cooperate with the grassland tribes, this direction was indeed proposed by him first, a point Ashina did not deny.

But one thing at a time, this matter has been decided and he is ready to carry it out immediately, so what else can Fujiwara no Shūjin say, and what can he say?

The branches of the old mulberry tree outside the window stretched across the window, swaying gently in the wind, casting a scattering, constantly shifting shadow on the floor tiles.

If you say useless platitudes just to please him, he will not let you off easily!

Even now, he still needs to occupy the position of prime minister in order to appease the largest number of Japanese soldiers.

But if he makes a mistake, you can punish him yourself, right? Lock him up in the mansion for a few months, and tell the outside world that the prime minister is ill and needs to recuperate.

After the battle on the Great Flame side was over, the Japanese soldiers and the surrendered troops from the South China Sea were completely incorporated into the various camps in the Western Regions.

Once they got used to the military system of the Devouring Flame and the commands of the Devouring Flame generals, they no longer obeyed any king, but rather the banner of the Devouring Flame.

At that time, Fujiwara no Shūjin, this plank across the bridge, can be removed directly.

In the Western Regions, having a prime minister like the Dashi Man is enough.

Da Shi Man has been with him for many years and is someone he can truly trust to entrust his back to.

As for Fujiwara no Shūjin, a surrendered official who had just been brought back, what right did he have to be on equal footing with Dashiman?

His current position as prime minister is already a favor to him. It's a favor bestowed upon him by me, not something he earned through his own abilities.

Fujiwara no Shujin noticed Ashina's dissatisfaction. He stood in the center of the hall, and his fingers under his sleeves curled up silently.

He secretly resented that if Da Shiman hadn't gotten there first, he wouldn't be in such a passive position now!

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Dashiman, who was sitting opposite him. The old man was stroking his beard and looking at him with a faint smile on his lips, as if he were watching a monkey performing on stage.

"That old fox," Fujiwara no Shujin cursed inwardly. He deliberately cut him off before he could speak, throwing out the Canaan clue and drawing all the attention to himself.

He was the one who first proposed the direction of contacting the grassland tribes, and he was the one who paved the way, but Dashiman took the first step along this path, and it became Dashiman's achievement.

But he was very confident in what he was about to say. Fujiwara no Shujin suppressed his hatred for the time being. Just wait, old man, you better not let him catch a chance!

He took a deep breath, his expression regaining its confidence and composure. Ashina would definitely be interested in what he was about to say!

Fujiwara no Shūjin stepped forward and bowed under the watchful gaze of Dashiman.

Then he straightened up and looked at Ashina.

"Your Majesty, we have a way to contact the Khorchin and Balin tribes and persuade them to cooperate with the Western Regions to jointly fight against the Great Flame!"

This isn't about contacting and discussing; it's about direct cooperation!

The certainty in his tone made it sound as if he were stating a fact that had already been accomplished.

Ashina was taken aback, his eyelids twitched, and the vertical line between his brows deepened as he keenly noticed the difference between the two versions of the story.

Contacting and negotiating versus direct cooperation. The difference between the two is immeasurable.

He leaned forward slightly, his neck craning forward as if to hear more clearly.

Is this Fujiwara no Shūjin so confident?

Isn't he the king of the Japanese kingdom in the South China Sea? Could he also have connections on the grasslands?

This is impossible...

Ashina's fingers unconsciously traced circles on the red agate.

The South China Sea and the northern grasslands are separated by a sea and a vast expanse of flames; it would not be an exaggeration to say that they are separated by thousands of mountains and rivers.

Between them are vast rivers, lakes and seas, and endless city walls, one in the far south and the other in the far north.

Starting from the dock in the South China Sea, one must first cross the entire South China Sea to reach the southeast coast of Da Yan, and then transfer to a fast horse to travel north along the post road.

After traversing the rice paddies and water towns of Jiangnan, crossing the plains and towns of the Central Plains, and then passing through the hills and passes of the northern border, one can finally reach the edge of the grasslands.

Even if you travel day and night without rest, this journey will take several months.

Fujiwara no Shūjin was originally a king, so it was inconvenient for him to leave for too long. How could he possibly travel from the South China Sea to the grasslands to develop relations all the time?

Are they just using two obscure little tribes to make up the numbers?

I randomly picked two tribal names that I'd heard of somewhere, and it's not even certain that these two tribes actually exist.

Or perhaps it's a small tribe that can't even muster a thousand cavalrymen?

Ashina's doubts surged up layer by layer.

Horqin, Bairin, never heard of them...

He couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. He should have listened to the report himself when the envoy who went to Dayan returned from the New Year's Eve celebrations last year.