The wind howled as it swept down from the northern mountains, carrying with it a biting chill that cut through the fabric of Luo Wen's cloak. It was the same relentless cold that had accompanied his first meeting with Zhao Qing, a man as distant and calculating as the frozen peaks themselves. Zhao Qing was not a man swayed by emotion or empty promises. His loyalty was not given freely, nor could it be bought with words alone. His allegiance belonged to the victor, and if he deemed Luo Wen's cause a losing battle, he would abandon it without hesitation.
That was why, when the reports arrived detailing the advance of the combined armies of Yuan Guo, An Lu, and the Four Families—a colossal force of 400,000 soldiers marching toward the capital— Luo Wen knew the time had come to call upon Zhao Qing once more.
The report lay open on the war table, its ink-stained parchment an undeniable testament to the gravity of the situation. One glance was all Luo Wen needed to confirm his fears. The minor lords he had been eliminating one by one were nothing but trivial nuisances. This army, however, was a storm, an impending cataclysm. His campaign to consolidate power had to be put on hold. The war had changed.
"Summon the generals," he ordered, his voice firm and steady. Even as he spoke, his mind was already calculating, weighing options, searching for openings.
Within moments, his war council assembled. Luo Wen cast a sharp gaze over the gathered officers, men of various ranks and backgrounds. Some bore expressions of unease, others maintained the steely composure of seasoned warriors, men who had long accepted that battle was their only fate.
"We are abandoning our campaign against the minor lords," Luo Wen declared. "The real enemy has revealed itself, and we cannot afford distractions."
Zhang Rui, a veteran who had once served in the imperial capital before the old regime crumbled, furrowed his brow.
"Are we retreating, my lord? We've spent months rooting out these traitors. If we give them time, they will rise again."
"If we do not focus on this threat," Luo Wen replied, his eyes glinting like sharpened steel, "there will be no regime left to protect. The combined army we face is no ragtag band of desperate peasants. It is commanded by seasoned strategists, supplied by vast resources, and—most dangerously—driven by a common purpose."
A heavy silence settled over the chamber. Every man present understood the weight of those words.
"What is our course of action, then?" Zhang Rui finally asked.
Luo Wen let the question hang in the air for a moment before responding.
"First, we consolidate our forces. The strategy of waging a fragmented war against minor nobles is over. From now on, all efforts will be concentrated on fortifying the capital and its surrounding territories."
"And our allies?" another general interjected.
Luo Wen turned his gaze toward him.
"Zhao Qing."
The name sent a ripple through the assembled officers. Zhao Qing was an enigma, neither foe nor friend. He had refused to commit to any side, maintaining his autonomy, always waiting to see which way the winds of war would blow before making his move.
This time, Luo Wen would not give him that choice.
"I will send a messenger personally," Luo Wen continued. "I will make him see that this war is inevitable. There will be no independence for him if we fall. When this storm has passed, only one ruler will remain."
The generals exchanged glances, some skeptical, others understanding the necessity of the move. Zhao Qing was not an easy man to convince, but Luo Wen had something far more valuable than words—he had a strategy.
That very afternoon, Luo Wen set out with a small escort, navigating through fortified routes toward Zhao Qing's bastion.
The stronghold remained an impenetrable fortress. Watchtowers loomed over thick wooden palisades, archers stationed atop them, scanning the horizon for any sign of threat. Soldiers patrolled with disciplined efficiency, just as they had when Luo Wen first visited. Nothing had changed—except the weight of war pressing down upon them all.
At the entrance, guards crossed their spears in a practiced motion, barring his path.
"I am Luo Wen," he announced. "I have come to speak with General Zhao Qing."
One of the guards recognized him, nodded, and soon granted him passage.
Inside the command tent, Zhao Qing awaited him. He had not sent for Luo Wen. He had not offered him a seat. He merely watched him with the cold, discerning gaze of a man who had long since learned to see through deceptions.
"So, you've returned," Zhao Qing said evenly.
Luo Wen offered a slight bow—not of submission, but of courtesy.
"The war has changed, General. The independence you seek is in jeopardy."
Zhao Qing's eyes narrowed slightly.
"The independence I seek?" he repeated with the ghost of a smirk. "I thought you had come to ask for my aid, not to warn me of my own problems."
Luo Wen did not take the bait.
"The combined army of Yuan Guo, An Lu, and the Four Families is marching with 400,000 soldiers. This is no mere rebellion. This is a war for absolute control of the Empire."
Zhao Qing did not look surprised, a sign that he had already heard whispers of the growing threat.
"I knew they were gathering forces," he admitted. "I did not know the scale was so immense."
"And do not think you can ignore it," Luo Wen pressed on. "If we fall, it will be them who decide the fate of the Empire. Tell me, General—do you truly trust An Lu? Or the Four Families?"
Zhao Qing lowered himself into a chair, his expression unreadable.
"And if I aid you," he said at last, "what do I gain?"
Luo Wen leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.
"I do not speak of loyalty, General. I speak of power. You command the finest cavalry in the Empire. A mere province will never be enough for you. You do not need isolation—you need influence."
Zhao Qing studied him in silence. He knew Luo Wen was dangerous, but he also knew he was right.
"How many men do you need?" he finally asked.
A small smile flickered at the corner of Luo Wen's lips.
"I will not ask for more than you can provide. 6,000 heavy cavalry and 14,000 light cavalry."
"And what will you do with them?"
"Break their morale. Cut their supply lines, harass their flanks, and force their coalition to fracture before we ever meet on the battlefield."
Zhao Qing folded his arms across his chest, weighing the proposition.
"Very well," he said after a long pause. "But hear me, Luo Wen—if I see this war turning against you, I will not throw my men into a lost cause. I will not sacrifice them for your ambition."
Luo Wen met his gaze, unwavering.
"Then my task is to ensure it does not become a lost cause."
Zhao Qing gave a curt nod.
"You have my cavalry. Use them wisely."
Luo Wen left the camp with the cold satisfaction of a man who had gained exactly what he needed. He had not secured Zhao Qing's loyalty, but he had secured his forces. That was enough.
By the time he returned to the capital, the army was already assembling. With Zhao Qing's reinforcements and the recruits from smaller lords under his command, his forces had swelled to 250,000 men. They lacked the rigid discipline of his elite troops, and many were raw conscripts, but he did not need perfection. He needed strategy.
As he examined the war map, a slow smile crept onto his face. The combined army had numbers, but it was fractured.
An Lu despised the Four Families. The Four Families distrusted Yuan Guo. And Yuan Guo saw all of them as a danger.
"Let them come," Luo Wen murmured to himself, tracing the attack routes across the parchment with his brush. "When the battle begins, we will not fight with swords alone… but with their own fears."