“Marshal,” Hu Duanduan said, bowing with clasped fists. His tone was respectful as he asked, “Do you long to bring the emperor home, or have you resolved to reclaim our lost lands?”
Yue Fei's expression grew urgent at once. He asked hastily, “What exactly is the difference between the two?”
Meeting Yue Fei's eager, burning gaze, Hu Duanduan explained slowly:
“If all you want is to bring the emperor home, there's no need to launch a major northern expedition. I have three plans.
“The best plan is to bribe Jin officials directly with lavish gifts, using a barrage of sweet words and enticing offers to get what we want.
“The second-best plan is to send special forces to infiltrate Jin territory in secret, bribe the guards, and have someone impersonate the emperor. We can pull off a switcheroo, like the civet cat replacing the crown prince.
“As a last resort, I have a miracle drug that can make the emperor appear dead for three days. We can fool everyone, then bring him back to life.”
“What if we want to accomplish both?” Yue Fei pressed, still unwilling to give up.
“Then we'll need to spend some time on it.”
Burning with impatience, Yue Fei urged him, “So what exactly should we do?”
Hu Duanduan grew solemn and said:
“First, we must secure the home front before dealing with external threats. We need to reach an understanding with the court, unite our ranks, and rally the people.
“Second, we must reform the army and train special forces in guerrilla warfare...”
Li Gang, the leading proponent of war, sat at the head of the table, looking troubled. “Guerrilla warfare may be flexible and mobile, but if the troops are spread too thin, how will we supply them?”
“The grain of the Jin people will be our supplies. We'll sustain the war with the spoils of war,” Hu Duanduan answered without hesitation.
“Are you suggesting we ‘besiege Jin to save Song’?”
“No! Not besiege, destroy! Let Jin taste the misery of a collapsing realm, a fallen state, and a ruined home.”
