"My lord, what should we do?" Siniang asked while standing behind Zheng Fan, massaging his temples.
Zheng Fan's fingers tapped lightly on the tea table before him. The clerk had departed, but the dilemma remained.
The Recruitment Envoy was truly feigning allegiance, his heart elsewhere. Perhaps it was because the relationship between the Earl of North Border's manor and the imperial court had steadily worsened over the past month. With the most dire outcome potentially imminent, he seemed agitated and wanted to secretly meet the Earl of North Border's family himself.
If that day truly comes, when the North Border Army, under the leadership of the Earl of North Border's manor, unfurls the banner to "Purge the Court," he, Hui Wenzu, could immediately respond by surrendering the city in support.
But the crux of the matter was, that ruse he'd concocted—Zheng Zhilong and Koxinga—where on earth was he supposed to find them now?
