Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Chapter 1063 Cleverness is not the most important thing

Terauchi Hisaichi chuckled, then leaned forward slightly: "Takuto, what you did in Nanjing, how can the word 'inappropriate' even begin to describe it?"

A pair of eyes that had seen it all lingered on Zhou Zhengqing's face for a moment, as if trying to capture every subtle change in his expression.

The firelight from the fireplace danced in his eyes, reflecting a kind of mischievous, childlike interest.

“That’s called a cataclysmic upheaval.” He uttered these words slowly, each syllable carrying weight: “It’s like it’s ripped a hole in the sky!”

“Those old men at the General Staff Headquarters.” Terauchi Hisaichi shook his head, a smile that was a mixture of sarcasm and pleasure curving his lips: “I heard that after hearing the news, several of them were so angry that they ended up in the hospital!”

Blood pressure spiked, and the military doctor's legs were practically broken from running around.

In particular, that young staff officer who always talks about "Showa military spirit" and "military integrity" almost overturned the conference table during the Imperial Conference when he heard about your "masterpiece".

Even the cabinet ministers described it as "a complete breakdown of discipline" and "unprecedented."

As he spoke, Terauchi Hisaichi burst into laughter again, this time even louder.

Zhou Zhengqing sat quietly, his back straight as a pine tree. He could tell that Terauchi Hisaichi's laughter at this moment contained only pure joy and appreciation, without a trace of hypocritical politeness or probing provocation.

It was the astonishment of a seasoned veteran, accustomed to life, death, and power struggles, at the audacity and ruthlessness of a junior.

It is a resonance and admiration among those who are also masters of power manipulation.

The laughter itself is an attitude, a stance. Terauchi Hisaichi is also an aristocrat, and naturally belongs to the same camp as Zhou Zhengqing. This is what Terauchi Hisaichi wanted to express with these teasing words.

After laughing, Terauchi Hisaichi suppressed his outgoing expression, but the glint in his eyes shone even brighter, like two inextinguishable lanterns lit in the darkness, so sharp that they seemed to pierce through all pretense and look straight into the deepest part of people's hearts.

The wrinkles on his face, illuminated by the firelight, looked as if they had been carved by a knife and axe, each one bearing the marks of time and battle.

“However.” He drew out the word, making the simple transition word sound meaningful, lingering for a full three seconds in the warm, slightly intoxicating air.

The restaurant fell silent, save for the occasional crackling sound of the fireplace: "Young man, you have spirit and skill, that's a good thing!"

He picked up the warm, white porcelain wine cup in front of him, but did not drink. Instead, he slowly stroked the rim of the cup with his fingertips, his gaze distant, as if piercing through time.

"When I was your age, I was still struggling in the regiment of the Guards Division. What I was thinking about all day long wasn't grand strategy or tactics, but how to make sure that group of greenhorns I pulled from the rural Northeast didn't make too much of a fool of themselves in front of other regiments, especially those arrogant elite sergeants from the NCO school, during the autumn training exercise!"

He shook his head, his tone filled with genuine nostalgia—a recollection of a pure and energetic youth.

"Every day was a nightmare. I was scolded by my superiors and laughed at by my colleagues. I was thinking about how to get more supplies and how to make sure that bunch of greenhorns didn't hit their own targets during live-fire exercises... Ha, back then, I thought that being able to manage a company of several hundred people was a huge skill."

His gaze refocused on Zhou Zhengqing's face, filled with undisguised, even somewhat complicated, admiration: "You're quite something, no wonder you're the heir of the Takasaki family. With just one move, you dare to instigate a bloody battle between several divisions."

Using someone else's strength against them, driving one enemy to devour another, he remained behind the scenes, letting Okamura Yasuji and Matsui order their men to fight a bloody war... Such audacity, such cunning, such mastery of human nature, factionalism, and timing...

He paused, then said, word by word, "In this respect, when I was your age, I was really not as good as you."

These words, half lament and half praise, carried immense weight coming from the mouth of Terauchi Hisaichi, an army general known for his composure, experience, and deep foundation.

Zhou Zhengqing lowered his eyes slightly to show humility, but he was fully aware of the situation.

This was not just ordinary praise; it was a recognition of his abilities, a formal acknowledgment of his capabilities by a top-level figure in the military.

This recognition was not based on Zhou Zheng's status as a descendant of the Takasaki family. Within the Japanese Army, which was strictly hierarchical and based on seniority, such recognition was often more valuable than any medal.

“But, Takuto.” He changed to a more intimate yet subtly warning form of address, his voice lowering like the guttural growl of a beast before an attack: “There’s an old Chinese saying, which I’m sure you’ve heard before.”

A tree that stands out in the forest will be felled by the wind. A mound that rises above the bank will be eroded by the current. A person who excels above others will be criticized by the masses.

He slowly recited the ancient Chinese proverb, pronouncing each word clearly with a cold rhythm.

"You played your part beautifully this time, and you truly solved a problem for His Majesty and the Empire... In the end, it was beneficial to the Empire."

He abruptly changed the subject: "But what about the process? What about the methods? You crossed the line, Tuoren."

Do you really think that the old guys in the military, those old foxes in the General Staff who have been doing intelligence work for decades, can't find anything about Matsui Iwane's case?

They genuinely believed it was just a "tragic misunderstanding."

Zhou Zhengqing narrowed his eyes, immediately wanting to say that he didn't understand what Terauchi Hisaichi meant.

But Terauchi Hisaichi didn't give Zhou Zhengqing a chance to speak: "No, they can find out."

At least, someone can find some clues.

But now, with the Nanjing campaign initially settled and international opinion in an uproar, coupled with the fact that Matsui Iwane is a loser who has crossed a line by attacking the military police—or rather, by targeting you, the representative of the imperial family and nobility who has withdrawn from the service—his fate is sealed.

“But,” Terauchi Hisaichi emphasized, tapping the table lightly with his right index finger, producing a dull thud as if knocking on a door leading to danger, “the accounts are all recorded.”

The notebook was filled with notes...

Takasaki Takuto disregards hierarchy, instigates internal strife, employs underhanded tactics, violates the decorum of a martial artist, manipulates intelligence, and his intentions are unfathomable.

All of these are waiting.

"We're waiting for you to make a mistake, waiting for the Takasaki family or the Imperial Family to reveal even the slightest flaw, or simply waiting for the right moment to settle all scores, old and new."

He took a small sip of the clear, jade-like wine.

Instead of swallowing immediately, he let the sake swirl slowly in his mouth, savoring it carefully. It seemed that he was tasting not only the mellow aroma and spiciness of the sake, but also every word he had just uttered, every layer of meaning, and the potential ripples these words might cause in the future.

Outside the window, the snow seemed to be falling even harder, and the sound of the wind whistling through the pine branches in the courtyard could be heard.

After a long while, he slowly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he let out a soft sigh. His voice became even lower, carrying a complex emotion of an elder speaking to a younger person he valued, a mixture of admonition and worry.

"In the future, we must be more careful in our actions and proceed with caution step by step."

Tuoren, you are very smart, much smarter than many of your peers, and even more so than many fools in high positions.

But you must remember that in the game of empire, sometimes, intelligence is not the most important thing.

Even, yes, that's not the most important thing.