Chapter 161: The Plot Against Pei Yuan

Half a month ago, at the Xiongnu Royal Court.

Winter was always the hardest time of year for the Xiongnu. It was not just because of the biting cold, but because the rivers froze over and the grasslands withered.

The endless grasslands had transformed into a vast expanse of snow. On clear days, the snow reflected a blinding, piercing sunlight. The elders would warn the children not to play outside for too long to avoid snow blindness. Yurts dotted the snowy plains like scattered stars, but gone were the sheep and cattle that roamed freely during the spring and autumn. Instead, the livestock were corralled behind fences, slowly chewing on hay stockpiled from autumn.

Wrapped in headscarves, tall women walked down to the river in groups of three to five to fetch water. Fetching water was backbreaking work; they had to use sharp awls to hack through the thick river ice before lowering their buckets. If they were lucky, however, they might catch a couple of fish along the way.

Inside the largest and most luxurious yurt ¹ tent sat Chanyu Nazhu. He reclined in a massive chair draped with a white tiger pelt, a jewel-encrusted band across his forehead, his face commanding and weathered by time.

Leaning forward, he listened intently to the report of the general standing before his table. When the general finished, Nazhu remained silent for a long time before asking in a deep voice, “So you are saying that Luan refuses to withdraw from Feng County? He wants to borrow troops from me to seize Feng County, Dai County, and three other key Zhou Dynasty strongholds in one fell swoop?”

The general knelt on one knee and answered loudly, “Yes, Chanyu!”

Nazhu leaned back against the tiger pelt. “How many men does he want to borrow?”

“One hundred and fifty thousand.”

“One hundred and fifty thousand?” Nazhu looked at him in surprise, then shook his head. “You must realize that the Royal Court only has two hundred thousand soldiers left. Moreover, campaigning in winter incurs astronomical military expenses, and our food reserves are not enough to sustain a long march. Most importantly, I have already signed a treaty with the Emperor of the Zhou Dynasty to maintain peace for ten years. Chunyu Luan defied my orders and unilaterally mobilized troops to attack Dai and Feng counties. That in itself is a breach of the treaty. I was already displeased, but out of respect for his past dedication to the Royal Court, I did not hold him accountable. Now, instead of repenting, he wants to double down?”

Standing beside Chanyu Nazhu with his arms crossed, Meng Jia looked down at the kneeling general with a cold, mocking sneer in his eyes.

No one else knew the old Chanyu’s true ambitions, but having served by his side for nearly twenty years, Meng Jia knew them all too well. Nazhu had always been hypocritical and deeply calculating; what he said, what he thought, and what he did were entirely different things. He had long coveted the nine northern border towns governed by Pei Yuan, but Qiu Ming Shan had been far too fierce and formidable, and Pei Yuan—the rising star—was equally powerful. Realizing he could not defeat them, Nazhu had humbled himself to sue for peace. Deep down, however, he wished nothing more than to claim that vast territory for himself immediately.

Although Chunyu Luan had fully fledged his wings, it would have been absolutely impossible for him to unilaterally mobilize two hundred thousand troops without Nazhu’s tacit, behind-the-scenes permission.

Nazhu wanted to use Chunyu Luan as a blade to eliminate Qiu Ming Shan and Pei Yuan. Once that goal was achieved, he would snap the blade in two.

That was precisely why he had gone to such great lengths to bring Wei Meng back.

It was never out of fatherly affection. For a son who had been away from home for over a decade and had constantly opposed him, it was merciful enough that Nazhu did not hate him to the bone; how could there be any deep fatherly love? Meng Jia had long since guessed the truth: Nazhu wanted to use Wei Meng’s hand to kill Chunyu Luan, and then dispose of Wei Meng as well. In doing so, he would solve his internal troubles while stripping his external enemy, Pei Yuan, of a crucial right-hand man—killing two birds with one stone.

The words Nazhu had just spoken sounded like a stern reprimand of Chunyu Luan’s insubordination, but in reality, they were merely a performance to keep up the lie of his treaty with the Zhou Emperor.

The young messenger sent by Chunyu Luan, however, clearly did not comprehend the Chanyu’s deeper intentions.

Terrified, the messenger looked up. Genuinely believing Nazhu was furious and about to punish him, he pleaded desperately, “Chanyu! The Worthy King of the Left has only the best interests of our people at heart! He has never harbored any rebellious thoughts! Judging by the current situation on the front lines, sending reinforcements to storm the city is our best option. Once we take Feng County, Dai County will fall like ripe fruit. With two-thirds of the northern territory in our hands, who cares about a treaty with the Zhou Emperor? Chanyu…”

“This is a grave matter. I cannot give you an answer immediately. Allow me some time to consider,” Nazhu interrupted, waving his hand to dismiss him. “You have traveled a long way and must be exhausted. Go down and rest.”

Not daring to disobey, the messenger shut his mouth and retreated reluctantly.

Once the footsteps outside faded into the distance, silence blanketed the grand yurt for a moment before a burst of hearty, joyous laughter rang out.

Nazhu looked at Meng Jia, a sharp gleam in his eyes. “Meng Jia, look. The opportunity we have been waiting for has finally arrived!”

Feigning ignorance, Meng Jia asked, “What does the Chanyu mean?”

“I have been sending people to gather intelligence on the front lines. How could I not know what Chunyu Luan is plotting? He is young and impetuous, and thinking I am too old to be feared, he believes he can bypass me. I simply went along with it to let him have his way. Feng County has been besieged for over a month now. Their supply lines have been cut for three or four months, and one of their granaries was burned down. The soldiers and civilians in the city must be demoralized and starving. Attacking now is the perfect opportunity!” Nazhu’s eyes burned with anticipation. “If he wants to borrow troops, I will lend them to him. But the price will be his head!”

Nazhu continued, “My promise to Meng’er has always been that I would not initiate military conflict with the Zhou Dynasty again. Tomorrow we will muster the troops, and the day after, the army departs. You will go with Meng’er. Along the way, you must trick him into believing our treaty with the Zhou Emperor stands firm, and that this campaign is solely to lure out and eliminate Chunyu Luan—and that once Chunyu Luan is dead, we will immediately withdraw the army. Although Meng’er has returned to my side, half his heart still belongs to the Han people. He hates Luan to the bone. If we send him to kill Luan, he certainly won’t refuse. When the time comes, draw the others away so only the three of you remain in the command tent…”

A wide grin spread across Meng Jia’s face. He understood Nazhu’s plan perfectly. “Once the Worthy King of the Left is executed, I will immediately kill the Dulu King (Wei Meng). Then I will raise the alarm, bring everyone in, and pin the blame of assassinating the Worthy King of the Left entirely on the Dulu King, claiming his heart remained loyal to the Han and that he colluded with the enemy before the battle. Afterward, I will take command of the army. In the name of avenging the Worthy King of the Left, and while the soldiers’ morale is at its peak, we will launch a massive assault on the city. Victory will be guaranteed!”

Slapping the golden tiger head on his armrest, Nazhu laughed uproariously. “Indeed! With this, all my greatest threats will be eliminated at once!”

Meng Jia returned to his yurt in high spirits. He ordered his servants to bring fine wine and beautiful courtesans. After a moment’s thought, he added, “And secretly bring the Princess of Jibei here as well.”

Ever since the Princess of Jibei had been brought to the Royal Court, people had ridiculed her, mocking her lack of the delicate, gentle beauty typical of Han women. Built tall and broad—even more so than some men—many wondered if the Prince of Jibei was blind or simply had bizarre tastes to favor her so much.

Meng Jia, however, did not see it that way. He was deeply intrigued by this princess and had been eager to taste her charms for a long time.

What was so great about those fragile, bird-like women? He preferred wild fillies and fierce hounds like her—women who didn’t cry, who were difficult to tame, but utterly captivating.

More importantly, while he had always favored handsome men, he did not turn his nose up at women either. The Princess of Jibei was the perfect blend of his desires for both.

Previously, with the overall situation still undecided, Meng Jia had restrained his urges, not daring to get too close to an enemy’s wife. But now that he and the Chanyu had finalized their grand scheme, he no longer viewed Pei Yuan as a rival. To him, the Prince of Jibei was merely an ant marked for death. Once the Prince was dead, what difference would this princess have from any ordinary woman? In his territory, she would be his to do with as he pleased.

Escorted by several Xiongnu soldiers who were about his height, Chen Jia was pushed into Meng Jia’s yurt. He muttered curses under his breath the entire way. Having grown up on the steppes, the Xiongnu soldiers had never learned the Han language. Not understanding a word of his grumbling, they simply stared at him with odd expressions.

Chen Jia glared at them. “You stupid pigs, are you looking at your father?”

Believing Chen Jia was just flustered and acting coy because he had been summoned by Meng Jia, the Xiongnu soldiers exchanged suggestive smirks.

This only made Chen Jia more furious.

Arriving at the entrance of the yurt, he adjusted the heavy hairpins in his hair, brushed off the foolish Xiongnu guards, and strode inside with wide, confident steps.

Meng Jia sat before a low table piled with large chunks of roasted mutton. A translucent crystal cup filled with pale green wine sat before him. He gestured with a smile, “Come, sit down.”

Chen Jia unceremoniously walked over and sat.

Unaccustomed to wearing dresses, he nearly ripped the seams as he sat down, instinctively covering his crotch.

Meng Jia watched him with an amused smile. “You really are interesting.”

Chen Jia rolled his eyes. “Your mother is interesting.”

Not catching the words, Meng Jia asked, “What did you say?”

Chen Jia shut his mouth.

Ever since he was captured, Chen Jia had barely spoken aloud, fearing someone would discover he was a man. But upon arriving at the Royal Court, he realized his worries were entirely unnecessary. Most of the women here, with the exception of the noble princesses, were barely distinguishable from the men. They possessed broad, powerful shoulders, voices like booming bells, and sun-baked, bronze skin. It was no wonder the Xiongnu hadn’t immediately realized his true identity.

Right now, he simply couldn’t be bothered to deal with Meng Jia, so he sat in sullen silence with his head lowered.

To Meng Jia, however, this silent resistance looked entirely different.

Chuckling softly, Meng Jia offered a cup of wine to Chen Jia’s lips. “What, are you shy?”

Chen Jia frowned and turned his head away.

Meng Jia got up, walked to his side, and knelt on one knee, attempting to flirt. “We have met several times, yet you still haven’t told me your name. What is it?”

Chen Jia felt a wave of nausea. Meng Jia reeked of sweat and horse manure. The stench was unbearable, forcing him to hold his breath.

Meng Jia watched him silently. After a long moment, he set the wine cup back on the table and lowered his eyes. “I know what you are thinking. Han women value their chastity. That is very commendable.”

Chen Jia remained expressionless, not even deigning to look at him.

“However, chastity is not worth more than your life.” Meng Jia smirked, reaching out to cup Chen Jia’s chin. Exhaling a breath, he murmured, “Your man is about to die, and you will soon be a widow. I am giving you two choices tonight. Either enjoy the night with me, and I will overlook the past and treat you well from now on. Or, I can send you on your way so you can take your chastity to the afterlife and be husband and wife with him beneath the earth.”

The breath blew past Chen Jia’s forehead, making his hair flutter. He thought to himself how incredibly disgusting and persistent this old man was… but once the weight of the words registered, he was startled.

Meng Jia had followed Nazhu since his youth, surviving countless bloody battles. He was no ordinary fool, and he would not make such empty threats lightly.

This meant he definitely had a plan to deal with Pei Yuan.

Chen Jia locked eyes with him for a moment and asked in a low voice, “You are going to kill him?”

Meng Jia laughed heartily. “You finally decided to speak.”

Testing the waters, Chen Jia asked, “What did you mean by those words just now?”

“Drink with me.” Meng Jia raised the wine cup once more. “Make me happy, and I might just tell you.”

Chen Jia’s eyelids twitched. Gritting his teeth, he took the cup. Forcing a charming smile, he leaned in closer to Meng Jia. Even without a mirror, Chen Jia could imagine just how nauseating his current expression must look, yet Meng Jia seemed completely entranced rather than repulsed.

Steeling himself, Chen Jia straddled Meng Jia’s lap, personally holding the cup to his lips. “General, please drink.”

Staring at him, Meng Jia’s adam’s apple bobbed as he obediently drank the cup of wine.

As Chen Jia reached to pour another, Meng Jia stopped him. “You must drink too.”

Chen Jia hid his face behind his sleeve with a soft laugh and drank along. He purposely used a smaller cup, drinking half and spilling half. Believing Chen Jia was just a woman, Meng Jia didn’t care to argue about the cup sizes and let it slide. They traded cups back and forth, quickly polishing off two jars of wine. Chen Jia’s face grew flushed, while Meng Jia became utterly drunk, swaying unsteadily.

Standing up, Meng Jia staggered sideways, pointing a finger at Chen Jia’s nose. “You… you have a great tolerance for alcohol. I like it.”

Chen Jia asked, “I have drank with you. Shouldn’t you tell me what you plan to do to my husband now?”

“You certainly are loyal to him. But what’s the use of me telling you?” Meng Jia laughed uproariously. “You are surrounded by my men. Even if you grew wings, you couldn’t fly out of these grasslands. Don’t even dream of saving him. Just strip off your clothes…” Meng Jia walked over, resting a hand on Chen Jia’s shoulder, and remarked in surprise, “Huh? You’re actually quite tall.”

He quickly brushed past the thought of Chen Jia’s height and continued, “Just strip off your clothes and spend a night of passion with me! Forget about your past husband. I will give you wealth and glory no less than his!”

“You want to sleep with me?” Chen Jia pushed his hand away, acting coy. “Tell me first, then I’ll undress.”

“Stubborn, so stubborn!” Meng Jia pinched Chen Jia’s cheek, leaning close to his ear with a grin. “Then I’ll tell you…”

Beneath Meng Jia’s fierce and brutal exterior lay an immense vanity. He was absolutely confident that Chen Jia could never escape his grasp. Even if the princess knew all his secrets, they would only rot in her stomach. Coupled with the alcohol clouding his mind, he kept almost nothing back, speaking in a boasting manner. Whatever Chen Jia asked, he answered.

Chen Jia’s expression grew heavier with every word.

Meng Jia became annoyed. “I didn’t want to tell you, but you insisted on asking. Now that you know, are you going to break your promise? Hurry up and strip off your dress, or don’t blame me for getting rough!”

Chen Jia forced a smile. “General, let me undress you first. Turn around.”

Delighted once more, Meng Jia nodded in approval. “Very well. You Central Plains women are indeed gentle and attentive…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Chen Jia delivered a swift, powerful strike to the back of his neck. Meng Jia’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed unconscious onto the floor.

Chen Jia dragged him by the feet onto the bed, pulled the blankets over him, blew out the candles, and quickly slipped out of the yurt.

Fearing that others would discover his secret rendezvous with the Princess of Jibei, Meng Jia had not stationed any guards outside the tent. Combined with the cover of darkness, Chen Jia made his escape without encountering any obstacles.

Wei Meng was already waiting for him in the shadows nearby.

When Wei Meng had first heard that the Princess of Jibei had been captured, he was terrified and had rushed over to investigate, only to be met with Chen Jia’s face. His feelings at the time had been a chaotic mix of shock and amusement, but he had quickly recovered, confirming Chen Jia’s identity as the princess in front of Nazhu and Meng Jia to dispel any lingering doubts. Since then, he had not found another opportunity to contact Chen Jia, nor did he dare get too close to avoid raising suspicions.

It wasn’t until dusk that Wei Meng caught wind of a rumor that Meng Jia had summoned Chen Jia for a drinking session.

Unable to sit still, he pretended to be on patrol, pacing around Meng Jia’s yurt. Finally, as the moon reached its zenith, the lights inside the yurt went out, and Chen Jia emerged shortly after. Watching those graceful, swaying steps, Wei Meng almost mistook him for a real woman for a fleeting second.

The two met in the shadows.

With no time for pleasantries, Chen Jia grabbed Wei Meng’s sleeve. Ignoring Wei Meng’s startled, slightly embarrassed, and awkward expression, he leaned close to his ear and relayed everything Meng Jia had told him.

After delivering the final sentence, Chen Jia whispered, “Do you understand?”

Wei Meng’s expression turned solemn. “I understand.”

Chen Jia nodded. Glancing left and right, he did not dare linger and prepared to return to Meng Jia’s yurt immediately. Before he could take more than two steps, Wei Meng called out to him.

Chen Jia turned back. “Is there something else?”

“Stay safe,” Wei Meng muttered, staring at him for a long moment before squeezing out, “And remember… you have a dick!”

It took Chen Jia a moment to process the words. His face turned pale, then flushed with anger. With a sharp huff, he whipped his sleeves and stormed off.

Wei Meng thought to himself: Great. How am I going to explain this to the real princess in the future?

When Meng Jia woke up the next morning, his shoulders were stiff and the back of his neck throbbed as if he had been struck with a heavy object.

But looking to his side, he saw his coveted princess sleeping beside him. Any doubts that flickered in his mind vanished instantly. He had been incredibly drunk the night before and suffered a blackout—something that had happened to him before, so he didn’t give it much thought. Gazing at Chen Jia with satisfaction for a moment, he got up, dressed, and prepared to mobilize the troops.

In addition to rallying the soldiers, he had to oversee the logistics and wagons. Time was tight today, and there was no room for delay.

Before leaving, Meng Jia ordered his guards to watch the yurt closely, forbidding anyone from entering or leaving.

At dawn the following day, without having the time to bid Chen Jia farewell, Meng Jia led one hundred and fifty thousand troops and marched south alongside the Dulu King, Chunyu Meng.

Half a month later, they arrived before the walls of Feng County, reaching Chunyu Luan’s camp.

Chunyu Luan’s trusted lieutenant, Cha’ergua, had been waiting for a long time. While he was initially thrilled by the arrival of reinforcements, his face darkened the moment he saw Wei Meng.

“What is the Chanyu’s meaning?” Cha’ergua glared furiously at Meng Jia. “Who is this traitor? Don’t tell me you don’t know! He held a vital position by the Prince of Jibei’s side for years, and his blade is stained with the blood of countless tribesmen! Now, what is the meaning of this? Has he become our leader?!”

“You had better show some respect,” Meng Jia said, looking down from his horse with an arched eyebrow. “This is the Chanyu’s own son, the Dulu King, Chunyu Meng.”

Furious, Cha’ergua stepped forward to argue further, but under Meng Jia’s icy glare, he could only shut his mouth in bitter resentment.

Knowing he could not challenge the Chanyu’s chief general, he immediately went into the main tent to report to Chunyu Luan. Moments later, Chunyu Luan’s raspy voice echoed from within: “Let them in.”

Meng Jia and Wei Meng dismounted. Led by a guard, they lifted the heavy curtain and entered the tent.

Chunyu Luan sat in the main seat, his upper face concealed by a silver mask, leaving only his lips and chin exposed. His hawk-like eyes locked directly onto Wei Meng.

Meng Jia knelt on one knee to salute Chunyu Luan. Wei Meng, however, remained standing. He smirked and said, “By lineage, you should call me elder cousin. There is no reason for an older brother to kneel before his younger brother, wouldn’t you agree?”

Chunyu Luan stood up, his voice gravelly as he asked, “General Wei, what are you doing here?”

Sansukini: I was wrong. This novel has a total of 172 chapters, including the extras. So this novel will not end this week.

My translation of Ruyi’s Comfortable Life was completed last week. Please check it out if you’re looking for a funny historical transmigration novel.

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