I, Am a Living Yama; Empress Advises Me to Stay Calm

“Khan, Khan!”
A Turkish general rushed into the command tent, panting heavily and wearing a grim expression.
Jie Li Khan frowned deeply. He had been meticulously studying the defenses of the Zhou people, searching for a way to attack the Great Zhou. The sudden intrusion disrupted his focus.
The general wasted no time. “Khan, something has happened. The Zhou have forbidden their people from buying our sheepskins. Half of the Turkic tribes are in an uproar.
“They can’t sell their sheepskins, and many tribes invested their entire wealth in raising sheep. Now, without buyers, the sheepskins will rot into worthless waste.”
Jie Li Khan froze, a wave of cold spreading through him. His scalp prickled as astonishment overtook him.
“Forbidden to trade sheepskins?”
The weight of the news sank in quickly. Jie Li Khan wasn’t a fool. Before, he may have overlooked the economic exchanges between the two nations, blinded by how beneficial trade with the Great Zhou had seemed.
He had never been particularly sensitive to economic matters, so he hadn’t anticipated such a move. What he failed to realize was that more than half of the Turkic tribes now relied on exporting sheepskins to the Great Zhou for their survival.
Now it was clear.


Slamming his fist on the table, Jie Li Khan growled, “Bastards! These Zhou people set this up from the very beginning.”
His voice carried both fury and disbelief. “This is a trap!”
The realization shook him. Jie Li Khan had never imagined the Zhou people would weave such a long-term plot to undermine his rule.
Before he could fully digest this revelation, another messenger burst into the tent.
“Khan, the leader of the Huyan tribe has rallied several nearby tribes—eight in total—and they are causing a commotion at the royal court. They demand that you withdraw the troops and resume trade with the Great Zhou.”
The command tent fell silent. Turkish soldiers exchanged cautious glances, unsure of how their Khan would respond.
Jie Li Khan clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking under the pressure. His rage was palpable.
“Idiots,” he hissed. “Those useless fools. Do they truly believe that we Turks can kneel before the Zhou at this moment?”
His voice grew louder, fueled by frustration. “Fools, the lot of them! And now they dare to gather and disrupt the royal court?”
He turned sharply to the general. “Arrest them all. Anyone who dares to cause further trouble will face the consequences.”
The soldier nodded swiftly and left the tent to carry out the order.
The atmosphere remained tense. Jie Li Khan’s close advisers looked at one another uneasily. Finally, one of them spoke cautiously.
“Khan, though the unrest caused by these tribal leaders is manageable for now, the ban on sheepskin trade will undoubtedly lead to greater chaos if left unresolved. The tribes depend on it for their livelihoods.”
Others nodded in agreement.
Jie Li Khan’s fury simmered beneath the surface, but he forced himself to think clearly.
“The Zhou people have orchestrated this to crush us. If we yield now, what will become of the Turks? Will we forever be at their mercy?”
The question hung in the air. No one dared to refute him.
Jie Li Khan’s expression darkened further as he declared, “The only way forward is to defeat the Great Zhou. We must capture their cities, claim victory, and force them to negotiate on our terms.”
His advisers drew in sharp breaths. They understood the stakes. The Zhou had dealt a devastating blow, not just economically but strategically. If the Turks couldn’t turn the tide with a decisive victory, the tribes’ growing dissatisfaction would spiral into rebellion.
Victory was no longer just a desire—it was a necessity.
…
In the Ming Dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang furrowed his brow, his expression grave as he absorbed the news.
“That young man is truly cunning,” he muttered. “Jie Li Khan has been ensnared. The grasslands lack significant business opportunities, and Yang Yi anticipated this long ago. The Turks can only rely on selling sheep, and now the Great Zhou has banned trade outright. Who could have foreseen that an inconspicuous policy from years ago would become a blade at the Turks’ throat?”
Zhu Biao, standing nearby, felt a shiver run down his spine. His scalp tingled as he processed the implications.
“This... this is ruthless,” he said, his voice low. “Yang Yi’s plan was set in motion two years ago. To have thought this far ahead—his scheming is terrifying.”
He glanced at his father. “Father, could Yang Yi be plotting against our Ming Dynasty as well?”
Zhu Yuanzhang stroked his beard, his eyes narrowing in thought.
“It’s unlikely. Our interactions with Yang Yi have been brief, limited to just a few exchanges. His strategies, both ‘Three Lines of Defense’ and ‘Title Inheritance,’ have been examined repeatedly and seem sound.”
Though his words sought to reassure, Zhu Yuanzhang couldn’t shake a lingering unease. The Turks never suspected that the seemingly sweet honey they consumed would one day turn into poison.
…
In the Qin Dynasty, Ying Zheng reviewed the report before him with a heavy heart. The news of Baiyue’s surrender, which should have brought joy, was overshadowed by Yang Yi’s ingenious strategy against the Turks.
Meng Tian, standing nearby, noticed the emperor’s silence and glanced at Li Si and Meng Yi. They, too, seemed deeply affected.
Finally, Ying Zheng broke the silence. “The most insidious traps often come disguised as blessings. Yang Yi’s scheme, hidden for two years, has only now revealed its fangs. The Turks are being roasted over a fire of their own making.”
He set the report aside, his expression unreadable.
“Yang Yi of the Great Zhou is a master of poison—not the kind that kills the body, but the kind that destroys nations.”
Li Si and the others exchanged wary looks. They silently vowed to tread carefully should they ever cross paths with Yang Yi. His strategies were as black-hearted as they were brilliant.
…
Half a month later, the situation at the frontlines grew dire.
A Zhou soldier reported gravely, “General, the enemy has surrounded the town.”
Wei Qing, clad in armor, stood tall and unwavering. In just one year, he had risen from a humble stable boy to one of the Great Zhou’s most important generals. While Heichi Changzhi and others suppressed rebellions to the north, it was now up to Wei Qing to face the Turks.