Diplomacy was never just a handshake.
A treaty this big between two nations wasn't going to get settled in one conversation between Pei Shiqing and Inugami no Mitasuki. Their secret meeting only set the general direction.
The real grind fell to the Honglu Temple's bureaucrats. Their reception officials would spend days arguing over every clause with the Japanese delegation until both sides wanted to throw up.
And Inugami was starting to suspect the Japanese would be doing most of the throwing up.
The overall plan, though, was stupidly simple. So simple it made him uneasy, like a merchant offering you a free horse and smiling a little too wide while he hands you the reins.
The Tang diplomat had a terrifying gift for making total submission sound like a generous favor. Start to finish, Pei Shiqing's logic was flawless.
That was the problem.
Japan admired mainland culture. Deeply. So the answer was obvious.
Send a big group of the highest-ranking aristocratic kids to the mainland. Let them grow up inside the Central Kingdom. There they would master Chinese, study Tang law, watch mainland engineering, and memorize the Confucian classics.
When they grew up and finished their education, they would go home and use all that knowledge to build a better future. And strengthen the eternal friendship between the two nations.
Pei Shiqing called it a beautiful vision with a perfectly straight face.
Inugami nodded. He couldn't find a single flaw.
That should have been his first warning.
Then Pei Shiqing showed just how sincere the Tang Empire was.
The Emperor would send a fleet of elite scholars and master craftsmen to the Japanese islands. They would set up proper academies and teach advanced manufacturing directly to the islanders.
Inugami's eyes went wide. Scholars. Craftsmen. Academies.
Free teachers. Free schools. Free knowledge.
Nobody in the history of diplomacy had ever offered this much for nothing.
A man with that much generosity either had a hidden agenda, or he was a saint. And Inugami had never met a saint in a court robe.
But the scholar beside him was already smiling, and the other envoys were already whispering excitedly, and nobody was asking the obvious question.
Why?
Why would the most powerful empire on earth send its best minds to a poor island chain it had never once mentioned in a single tribute record?
Inugami stared at the list of promises again.
This wasn't a diplomatic gesture.
This was a dowry.
Is Pei Shiqing trying to marry another Japanese girl?
After that staggering show of imperial goodwill, Pei Shiqing casually raised what he called a small logistics problem.
Tang naval fleets needed a safe harbor on the Japanese coast. They also needed a dependable staging ground to move students, teachers, and craftsmen across the dangerous ocean without disaster.
Inugami saw nothing wrong with it. The request made perfect logistical sense.
By then, Pei Shiqing could have asked for a whole mountain, and Inugami would have politely inquired whether he wanted the eastern slope or the western one.
Then came the actual trick.
Pei Shiqing noted that Japan was poor. Making the islanders feed and supply a garrison of elite Tang sailors every day would crush the local economy for no good reason.
The Tang Empire was too compassionate to dump that burden on its generous hosts.
Inugami came perilously close to weeping.
So Pei Shiqing offered a brilliant compromise.
The King of Japan only had to draw a slightly bigger circle around the designated naval port. If the islanders leased enough surrounding land to the Tang, Tang soldiers would happily endure the bitter hardship of physical labor. They would farm the land themselves and grow their own food, saving their generous hosts from the terrible burden of feeding them.
The Tang Empire would feed itself.
On Japanese soil.
Out of pure, selfless kindness.
It was the most generous act of territorial acquisition Inugami had ever heard described as charity. Tears of genuine gratitude welled in his eyes. At last, he believed he was witnessing the true grace of a supreme civilization.
What incredible magnanimity. What breathtaking generosity.
The Tang had not asked for tribute.
They had asked for a garden.
And offered to pay for the seeds.
His thoughts drifted back to the voyage from Japan. He remembered the greedy little nobles on his ship, endlessly guessing how much gold and silk the Tang Emperor might hand them as return gifts. They had even burned hours arguing over how big their chests should be.
Now, sitting in secret in a Chang'an courtyard with an official residency permit in his pocket, Inugami felt only pity for his countrymen.
They were shallow. All they wanted were a few chests of coins.
The Tang Empire was handing them the key to civilization itself.
And a garden. He really shouldn't forget the garden.
Naturally, when Inugami brought this enormous geopolitical opportunity to the rest of the Japanese delegation, it did not get unanimous applause. Several envoys objected loudly right away, forcing Inugami to listen patiently while they laid out their concerns.
He dutifully gathered their complaints, organized them into a formal report, and handed the document to Pei Shiqing and Minister Du Ruhui.
When the 2 senior Tang officials finished reading, they struggled to hold back laughter.
Du Ruhui tried to keep his dignified ministerial expression. He failed in the first paragraph. His shoulders started shaking. He had to set down his teacup because his hand trembled from suppressed amusement, and spilling tea on an imperial document would've caused a whole different diplomatic incident.
Across from him, Pei Shiqing leaned back and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
The Japanese delegation had found 2 objections to a deal that handed them an entire civilization and a free garden.
The first was pure nepotism. The envoys argued that since they were the brave pioneers who had made the first diplomatic voyage, they deserved exclusive rights to the new education program. The first batch of Japanese students allowed to study in Chang'an had to be their own sons and nephews.
No outsiders.
In other words: please send our kids to the best academies in the world, but keep the neighbors' kids home.
Du Ruhui had to bite the inside of his cheek.
The second complaint was a strange kind of national pride. The envoys were deeply offended by the farming clause. They said forcing elite Tang soldiers to push plows and harvest wheat would damage Japan's dignity and make the islanders look like terrible hosts.
So they drafted a joint petition asking the Son of Heaven to provide royal funds to buy food for the Tang navy.
They insisted on paying for the entire garrison themselves.
With their own empty pockets.
Du Ruhui read the petition twice, set it down, then picked it up and scanned the final section again, hoping to find some hidden explanation that made it make sense. Finding none, he turned to Pei Shiqing and asked in a perfectly level voice whether the delegation had included a footnote explaining exactly how they intended to fund such extraordinary generosity.
Pei Shiqing shook his head.
They hadn't.
Du Ruhui looked down at the report again. A subtle smile crept onto his face.
"They're inviting a foreign military force onto their shores, and they genuinely have no concerns about the consequences?"
Pei Shiqing shook his head slowly and poured himself another cup of hot tea.
"Any man who walks through Chang'an and sees our cultural dominance and military might would reach the same conclusion. Why would they ever imagine the Great Tang has sinister ambitions toward a miserable rock floating in the middle of the ocean?"
He took a leisurely sip.
"Besides, these envoys are hiding plenty of dark secrets."
"Oh?" Du Ruhui leaned forward. He'd always been interested in dark secrets.
Pei Shiqing gathered his thoughts and spent the next several minutes explaining the volatile intelligence he had extracted from Inugami about Japan's internal politics.
It was a classic succession crisis.
3 years earlier, the female ruler Empress Suiko died without naming a crown prince. Her death created an immediate power vacuum, and the uncertainty turned into a brutal shadow war among the island's most powerful aristocratic factions.
The Soga clan seized the moment with ruthless efficiency. They fabricated royal decrees, cornered the patriarch of their main rival family, and executed him on the spot. His sons were surrounded and forced to commit suicide, wiping out the rival bloodline. With the opposition gone, the Soga dragged Prince Tamura out of political obscurity and put the crown on his head.
He was now the sitting ruler of Japan.
But the victorious Soga clan had no intention of serving the new king obediently. With their power unchecked, they acted like royalty themselves. They built enormous private mansions and burial tombs that rivaled royal palaces. They even bypassed the throne entirely, illegally conscripting thousands of peasants to build their private estates.
Du Ruhui listened and felt a familiar itch.
"So they're holding the sovereign hostage while using his authority to command the other warlords?"
"That's just their domestic nightmare," Pei Shiqing said.
He tapped 1 finger against the wooden table. "They have foreign problems too. The neighboring kingdoms of Silla and Baekje have had a blood feud with Japan for more than 100 years. Border skirmishes are basically permanent."
Pei Shiqing paused.
"Our dear friend Inugami isn't here just to deliver tribute. He carries secret instructions straight from the King of Japan. The King desperately wants a military alliance with Silla and Baekje. He plans to borrow foreign troops, march them into his own capital, and use them to exterminate the Soga clan."
Du Ruhui chuckled softly and rubbed his chin as the pieces clicked.
"A 3-way struggle."
Everything made sense.
For weeks, he and Pei Shiqing had carefully built a diplomatic trap to lure the Japanese into accepting a Tang presence without triggering their natural fear of foreign interference. They had spent so long worrying an aggressive proposal might make the islanders defensive that they had completely misread the situation.
The King of Japan wasn't worried about a foreign invasion.
He was trapped in a political cage built by his own aristocrats. He was actively looking for a bigger monster to devour the Soga clan.
The Tang Empire and the King of Japan were heading toward the same destination from completely different directions.
It was practically a match made in heaven.
Du Ruhui could also predict the King's next calculation easily. If he had to choose between inviting troops from Silla or Baekje and inviting soldiers from the Tang Empire, the decision was laughably obvious.
Silla and Baekje were ancient enemies of Japan, locked in generations of bloodshed, territorial disputes, and border warfare. The Tang Empire was a distant power separated by a dangerous stretch of ocean. More importantly, Tang openly said its main military attention was on the western frontiers and the deserts beyond the Hexi Corridor.
From the King's view, Tang looked like a powerful but relatively disinterested third party with overwhelming military strength.
Perfect mercenary force.
Du Ruhui didn't waste time. He gathered the intelligence, pulled together the emerging geopolitical strategy, and compiled a final report. Then he put it directly on the Emperor's desk.
Li Shimin read the Japanese envoys' demands and found them accommodating. He grabbed his vermilion brush and approved instantly. The envoys could absolutely send their own sons and nephews to Chang'an first. And those students wouldn't count against the official quota assigned to the Japanese government.
As he scribbled his approval, Li Shimin let out a series of dark chuckles.
The days of foreign merchants faking diplomatic credentials just to scam the imperial treasury out of silk and silver were over. Rules had changed. The Emperor wasn't handing out free money anymore.
He was going to squeeze every last drop of gold out of these foreign nobles.
Since the ancient Han Dynasty, there was a saying among the bureaucratic class: living in Chang'an is not easy. The capital was a black hole for wealth. Real estate was astronomically expensive. The luxury market was ruthlessly competitive. Social standing required huge banquets, imported silks, and gilded carriages.
Li Shimin firmly believed it was time for foreign aristocrats to experience that economic reality.
He knew how these people operated. The outrageous prices in Chang'an wouldn't scare the barbarian princes away. They would validate their expectations. When a bowl of wine cost a commoner a month's wages, foreign nobles would nod and assume this was just how things worked in the supreme Central Kingdom.
Li Shimin came from a wealthy aristocratic family himself. He understood elite psychology perfectly. They would burn their family fortunes to ash just to save face at a dinner party.
He was going to bleed them dry with luxury.
He finished writing his aggressive policy directives. Empress Zhangsun had been sitting nearby, waiting for him to finish so they could eat. She watched his face and smiled.
"My husband looks remarkably pleased today."
Li Shimin didn't hide his joy. He nodded vigorously.
Warfare came in many forms.
When he faced Illig Qaghan's terrifying cavalry, he swallowed his pride, stalled for time, and eventually unleashed a blitzkrieg that shattered the enemy nation. Direct strategy.
When dealing with the distant kingdoms of the western deserts, he used a different toolkit. Complex alliances, tribal leaders pitted against each other, economic lifelines slowly cut. A grand strategic web.
Now he was facing the islanders of Japan. He was laying a generational trap. Education, culture, and luxury goods to conquer a country without firing a single arrow.
Another form of warfare.
He saw no difference in value between swinging a sword and wielding a trade agreement. The intense dedication required to build this diplomatic trap gave him the same adrenaline rush as commanding 100,000 troops on an open battlefield. His blood ran hot.
He waved at the eunuchs to bring in dinner. As servants arranged the dishes, he eagerly explained the brilliance of his new economic trap to the Empress. He highlighted all his favorite clauses.
Empress Zhangsun listened with her usual calm intelligence. When he finished, she offered a rare piece of tactical advice.
"When these young foreign nobles arrive in the capital, it might be useful for Crown Prince Chengqian to find a convenient excuse to meet them."
They had been married a long time. Their minds worked on the same wavelength. Li Shimin instantly grasped the hidden layer. The Crown Prince needed practice. Dealing with arrogant foreign teenagers in a controlled environment was perfect training for a future Emperor.
Li Shimin thought it over, then nodded in deep satisfaction.
"Excellent."
---
General Li Jing and General Su Dingfang fought their wars on frozen borders.
Ministers Fang Xuanling, Du Ruhui, and Pei Shiqing waged theirs through whispers in the imperial court.
It was only fitting that the Crown Prince of the Great Tang step onto a battlefield designed for the young.
Far from the warm halls of the imperial palace, a different youth was fighting a desperate battle against the elements.
Pei Xingjian sneezed violently. He grabbed the edges of his thick fur cloak and tried to pull it tighter around his neck. He shuffled another 2 inches toward the glowing iron brazier.
It did no good.
The heavy wooden door to the command room slammed open. Su Dingfang stomped inside, dragging the brutal wind of the Hexi Corridor in with him. The air turned sharp and biting.
Pei Xingjian convulsed. The cold hit him like a punch. He curled into a tight ball, trying to escape the draft.
Su Dingfang found this hilarious. He threw his head back and roared. Then he marched across the room, grabbed the teenager by the back of his collar, and hoisted him into the air like a small dog. Tucking the struggling boy under his arm, Su Dingfang spun around and marched right back into the freezing storm.
"Su Lie! Are you actively trying to murder me?" Pei Xingjian screamed. He kicked frantically, but he was pinned tight against the general's ribs. The wind whipped his words away.
Su Dingfang ignored him. He took the steep stone stairs of the Liangzhou city wall 2 at a time. At the top, he planted his boots on the stone and took a deep breath of freezing air.
"Ha! I distinctly recall a certain Pei Xingjian boasting loudly when he left the capital. Something about earning glorious merit on the battlefield? Yet here you are, completely defeated by a gentle northern breeze?"
Su Dingfang dropped him onto the stone floor and cut straight to business.
"We've been in spring for over a month. Recruitment of the good families is done. The local militia is assembled. Later today, the secret ordnance from the Five Thunders Bureau will finally arrive at the Liangzhou gates."
He looked down at the shivering boy, his tone deadly serious.
"Everything's in position. The main army marches soon. You need to make your final decision right now, little brother. Are you marching out with the vanguard, or staying behind the walls?"
Pei Xingjian stopped shivering long enough to actually look around.
The battlements were empty of regular guards. There were exactly four people on this section of the wall.
Himself. Su Dingfang. And a bit farther down, standing perfectly still, two figures he recognized instantly.
General Li Jing and Xue Rengui.
Four men. Two of them were the highest-ranking military commanders in the entire empire. All standing on a freezing wall, waiting for a single supply convoy.
The gravity hit him instantly. Whatever the Five Thunders Bureau was shipping, it was important enough to pull the Supreme Commander out into the cold.
A memory flashed. A few months ago, during a closed-door military strategy lecture, Lord Li Jing had let slip a strange comment. The stoic old general sighed and said that with the new equipment in development, the Tang army would be genuinely invincible across the western deserts.
At the time, Pei Xingjian thought it was patriotic exaggeration. But later that night, Su Dingfang pulled him aside. The usually jovial general looked completely sober. He told the boy the weapon was real.
"Its destructive power vastly exceeds the wrath of ghosts and gods."
That was the exact phrase Su Dingfang used.
Pei Xingjian stared out at the horizon. The freezing wind tore at his cloak, but he no longer felt the cold. A wild anticipation flooded his veins.
Are we finally going to see it today?