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The Empress entered with a stern expression, her presence immediately commanding attention. Everyone’s hearts tightened as they rose to salute in unison.

“Greetings, Your Majesty.”

Wu Zhao nodded slightly, her gaze sweeping over the room. She moved towards the dragon throne and sat down gracefully.

“Sit down, everyone,” she said coldly.

The officials nodded and slowly returned to their seats. This was no ordinary meeting—it was a private audience, reserved only for the highest-ranking officials of the court. The tension in the room was palpable.

Wu Zhao’s voice echoed through the hall, sharp and emotionless.

“The reason I have summoned you all is because something has happened at the front line.”

The front line?

The officials exchanged glances, startled by this sudden revelation.

A month ago, the Great Zhou Army had gone to war with the Qing Dynasty. Given the long-standing hostilities between the two nations, conflict had been inevitable. With the Great Zhou’s treasury full and prepared for the expenses, it seemed the perfect time for war. Yet for the past month, there had been little news from the front.

Now, movement at the front line?

Yang Yi blinked, his curiosity piqued. He had recommended Li Cunxiao to lead the army, but knew little of the situation since then.

Wu Zhao held a memorial in her hands, her phoenix eyes gleaming coldly as she spoke.

“Our army has engaged the Qing forces three times, gaining slight advantages each time,” she began, her tone measured.

“However, the Qing army is cunning, and their commander is no ordinary person. The Qing soldiers have taken a defensive stance, fortifying their cities in an effort to wear down our forces.”

A murmur rippled through the hall.

“Although the Great Zhou is capable of sustaining a long campaign,” Wu Zhao continued, her voice growing colder,

“it becomes increasingly costly to fight on enemy territory. Each time we engage them, they retreat into their cities at the first sign of defeat. Prolonged engagements have led to the depletion of our forces.”

The officials listened intently, the weight of her words settling over them.

“Most troubling of all,” Wu Zhao added, her gaze hardening, “a large number of corpses have accumulated after these battles, and after more than ten days of continuous rain, a plague has begun to spread through our camp. Though our healers have worked quickly, many soldiers have already succumbed to the illness. General Heichi Changzhi has requested the temporary withdrawal of our troops.”

A wave of shock spread through the room.

Wu Zhao’s voice remained steady.

“I have called you here to hear your opinions.”

The hall fell into a tense silence. The officials exchanged uncertain glances, their minds racing. They hadn’t anticipated such dire news from the front lines.

The enemy’s defensive tactics, combined with the spread of disease, made the situation far more complicated than they had thought.

Heichi Changzhi’s request for a retreat seemed justified under the circumstances. But they all understood why the Empress sought their counsel—Wu Zhao was not someone who gave up easily. She was not ready to accept retreat without a fight.

Everyone exchanged glances.

“If we don’t withdraw, what else can we do?”

“What ideas could they possibly offer?”

“If the plague spreads or the war is lost, they’ll be held responsible for gross negligence.”

No one wants that on their shoulders.

The hall grew quiet. Wu Zhao’s temples pulsed faintly with irritation. These officials always played dead when they were most needed. Her gaze hardened, sweeping across the room, and the ministers avoided her eyes, their heads lowered.

The Empress’s brows arched, poised to rebuke them. But just as she was about to speak, Yang Yi stepped forward.

“Your Majesty,” he said calmly, “I have a plan that might resolve the current situation.”

The hall stirred as everyone turned to Yang Yi, their faces filled with surprise and skepticism.

Another wild idea? they wondered.

Li Yifu scowled, clearly displeased. Every time this young minister spoke, it made the rest of them appear incompetent. Unable to hold back, he spoke in a low, firm voice.

“Minister Yang, General Heichi Changzhi is one of our finest commanders. His expertise in warfare is unmatched, and if even he is calling for a retreat, the situation must be dire.”

He continued, his voice growing more pointed.

“Minister Yang, I know you are full of strategies, but you’ve never been to the battlefield. It’s unwise to make reckless suggestions. If your plan worsens the situation, can you bear that responsibility?”

Yang Yi smiled faintly.

“Minister Li, perhaps you should hear my plan before you pass judgment.”

Li Yifu’s face darkened, rendered speechless for the moment. He shot Yang Yi a cold glare, simmering with frustration.

Wu Zhao’s sharp eyes gleamed. As expected from him, she thought, her trust in Yang Yi deepening. She cast an icy glance at Li Yifu, silencing him further.

He talks too much and achieves little.

Li Yifu, now stewing in silent envy, watched as the Empress turned her attention back to Yang Yi, her posture straightening, her pale, elegant face showing a trace of curiosity.

“Minister Yang,” she said with restrained eagerness, “please continue.”

Yang Yi looked around, meeting the gaze of the officials before speaking, his voice calm but resolute.

“My plan is, admittedly, rather ruthless…”

He paused, letting the tension settle.

“There is a plague in the camp, and we cannot allow the corpses of the infected to pile up. However, instead of just disposing of them, I suggest we use them.”

“The enemy is holed up in the city, refusing to engage in direct battle. General Heichi Changzhi should order the infected corpses to be catapulted over the walls, into the city.”

Gasps filled the room as Yang Yi continued, undeterred by their shock.

“That will force the enemy to make a choice: either come out and face us, or stay within their walls and suffer the plague, which will soon infect their entire population.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the shock palpable. The officials stared at Yang Yi, stunned by the cold, calculated cruelty of his plan.

This… this isn’t just ruthless—it’s monstrous, they thought, their hearts racing.

Xu Jingzong’s old, wrinkled face trembled.

I’d better stay on this one’s good side, he mused. At my age, all I want is a peaceful retirement. Cross him, and I’d be done for.

Li Yifu, normally driven by jealousy, now sat frozen in horror.

This idea… it’s truly vile.