Chapter 34

“How can it be like this? How can it be so?!” Zhang Yong abruptly tossed aside the imperial report and fumed, “Wouldn’t it waste ten years of hard work?!”

The techniques of damming water to combat the buildup of sand and widening the river to slow the sand both possess their own advantages and disadvantages—a debate that has raged since the previous dynasty. Zhang Yong wasn’t really concerned with which method was superior; all he knew was that the latter had already consumed ten years of manpower and resources.

“How can you just change it on a whim? Your river-management philosophy is contradictory—doesn’t that mean that all the previous efforts amount to nothing?”

“Then why is the new emperor acting in this manner? If you look closely, the reason isn’t difficult to discern.”

The former crown prince had shone so brilliantly that his downfall was even more heart-wrenching. Although the new emperor ascended the throne with rightful legitimacy, he was rendered pale in comparison. He was eager to accomplish a great feat—to completely crush the ever-haunting presence of his legitimate older brother. After all, among the foremost achievements of the former crown prince, what could be a better starting point than river management?

Moreover, as a river management concept debated for centuries, ‘Restricting Water to Control Sand’ and ‘Wide River for Sediment Retention’ have always been equally regarded, each with its unique advantages. It was certainly not a mere fallacy.

Unfortunately, the method was unsuitable for the Chenliu-Fugou section, where the ‘Wide River for Sediment Retention’ has already been implemented for ten years.

Shao Qing sighed lightly, “In late May, the imperial decree was issued.”

Guo Yun assumed his post, and the river management work began immediately. At that time, she and Wei Jing were still on the run. This palace report was even recovered from the Qu residence after Qu Cheng was deposed. But then again, even if the palace report were issued just now, everyone present would be a fugitive who could not reveal their true identity—what could they possibly do about it?

The mere thought that so many ordinary citizens might have to pay with their lives for the new emperor’s hasty pursuit of achievements weighed Shao Qing down. Even though she had been aware of the news for some time, every discussion still left her feeling gloomy.

Ji Huan furrowed his brows tightly, “Who proposed this plan?”

According to the palace report, once the emperor’s will was issued, memorials began flooding in like snow, and there were not a few voices of opposition. Clearly, more than half of the correspondents understood the pros and cons, yet unfortunately, the new emperor persisted in his own views.

Whether or not this river management project turns out well will eventually be revealed by its outcome. Once the levee fails, the proposer will become a condemned criminal for all time—failure to execute him would not be enough to placate the people’s anger. Whose advice is this? Is it mere foolish flattery, or is there some ulterior motive?

By all normal reasoning, people who value their lives would hardly ever dare to undertake such a risk.

Shao Qing had already retrieved another palace report. Wei Jing took it and passed it to Ji Huan, saying, “It’s from Marquis Wu’an, Ding Hua.”

Ding Hua is not only the father of Beauty Ding, the new emperor’s mother, but his legitimate eldest daughter has also been chosen as Prince An’s consort. With the change of an emperor comes a change in ministers—he is a typical example. Just six months ago, he was enfeoffed as Marquis Wu’an, becoming one of the new emperor’s favored officials.

Prince An did not win the previous emperor’s favor, and his consort came from an ordinary background, yet the once inconspicuous Ding Hua now holds significant power.

“Whether it’s mere foolish flattery or something with ulterior motives, only time will tell.”

Wei Jing did not have a profound impression of Ding Hua. Having once been a prince, he was sure that Ding Hua had his network of informants everywhere; however, Wei Jing had no intention of reconnecting with them now, so he remained unaware of the full details. Still, the information contained in the palace report was sufficient for the time being.

Wei Jing remarked coolly, “His rash, opportunistic scheme for quick success brings me a hundredfold benefits without a single drawback.”

Now, Great Chu is as precarious as a house of cards. Should the Yellow River breach its banks, the consequences would be unthinkable. Divine misfortunes can sometimes be excused, but self-inflicted calamities cannot—and Wei Jing was precisely waiting for such an opportunity.

And what he must do now is to quickly expand his own strength, waiting for the east wind. A single county is simply too small.

Both the host and guest realized the same thing. Energized, Ji Huan immediately declared, “My lord, we must devise a way to bring Anyang Commandery under our control first.”

Decisive and to the point, with no beating around the bush, the ever-quietly attentive Shao Qing’s eyes lit up. This was exactly how Wei Jing had spoken to her when he obtained the palace report. Truly, he was deserving of his reputation as the number one strategist once serving under Prince Qi.

“Exactly!” Zhang Yong patted his thigh, gritted his teeth, and lowered his voice as he said, “Seize Anyang first—with an eye toward the future. We must storm the capital and carve that dog emperor into eight pieces!”

The insults to their lord and the death of their ministers stirred indignation, and both Han Xi and Chen Qi showed their anger, gritting their teeth in agreement.

“Good!” Wei Jing stood up and said, “I consider myself extremely fortunate to have all of you supporting me.”

Seizing Anyang Commandery—the seat of Pingtao—as quickly as possible had already won unanimous approval from everyone present. Next, the discussion turned to how exactly to capture Anyang Commandery.

Since the great chaos had not yet erupted, it was obviously impossible to dispatch troops openly; a cunning strategy was required.

The best plan was for Wei Jing to maneuver to remove Dong Du and replace him as the Governor of Anyang Commandery—thus, in a natural course of events, assuming control of the commandery.

At that point, Ji Huan and the others were unaware of the situation, so Shao Qing explained in detail: “The two sons of Governor Yizhou, He Yun, have matured and split into two factions. Dong Du is a cousin (by his fourth wife), and that fourth wife has produced three sons.”

“There is also the county commandant, Bao Zhong, who belongs to the faction of his second son. Within Anyang Commandery, the two factions stand on equal footing, and due to the Qu Cheng incident, Wei Jing had already aligned himself with the second son’s faction.”

The second son, having received a letter from Bao Zhong, was extremely impressed with Wei Jing and personally sent a letter to Pingtao. Naturally, Wei Jing’s reply overflowed with joy—he pledged to devote himself entirely, sparing no effort, even if it meant laying down his very life. He was measured and prudent, revealing just enough of his talents. As a result, the second son increasingly valued him. Later, envoys began arriving like flapping wild geese; though they had never met in person, the name “Yang Ze” had already become well known in the second son’s inner circle.

As long as the opportunity is right, Second Master He will absolutely not refuse to see Wei Jing become commandery governor.

During these two or three months, while Wei Jing was consolidating his foothold at Pingtao, he had simultaneously laid the groundwork for what was to come. Since these matters had already been outlined—and as Wei Jing felt it unseemly to explain everything in detail himself—Shao Qing readily took over the discussion, clearly explaining every nuance.

In the end, she expressed deep regret, “It’s a pity that Dong Du, despite being strongly backed by Third Master He, only faced a charge of negligence in the private salt case and was merely fined a small portion of his salary.”

The truth is that Dong Du was acting on behalf of Third Master He, so naturally, Third Master He staunchly protected him. Moreover, Governor He had consistently adopted a policy of placating his two sons so that in the end, major issues were trivialized and minor ones quickly resolved—with only Qu Cheng and his associates being sacrificed as scapegoats to close the case.

“Then where should we begin?” asked Han Xi.

Now that everything had been laid out, it was time to discuss specific strategies: how do we topple Dong Du? And how do we sideline Bao Zhong?

Bao Zhong is the commandant and has long been a trusted confidant of Second Master He. If Dong Du falls, Bao Zhong is the most likely candidate to rise to power. Since Wei Jing intends to seize Anyang Commandery, this stumbling block must also be removed.

Han Xi, Ji Huan, and the others did not have a deep understanding of Pingtao—let alone Anyang Commandery—so at that moment, they didn’t have any sound insights.

“Where should we begin?”

However, Shao Qing had a flash of inspiration and blurted out, “The Pu tribe?”

Since the plan was to promote the county magistrate of Pingtao to the governorship of Anyang, regardless of the final strategy adopted, if one wished to achieve anything substantial, the scheme had to link both together—each indispensable, and the connection as tight as possible.

Shao Qing immediately recalled the Pu tribe—a group of barbarians whose source of income had been cut off after Wei Jing interfered in the illicit salt affair. They were deeply entangled with Gaoling, Dong Du, and even Bao Zhong.

In the illicit salt case, Dong Du, desperate to protect himself, frantically shifted the blame onto the Pu tribe. Coupled with his previous misdeeds in colluding with Qu Cheng to convert state salt into private trade, this enraged Yizhou’s Governor, He Yun, who then ordered a complete severance of all official and civilian dealings with the Pu tribe—not merely salt.

Not only was salt no longer allowed to be sold externally, but nowadays, even when venturing out to purchase everyday necessities, the Pu people had to disguise themselves. This grudge had escalated dramatically. And the Pu tribe was famously vindictive—they never let the slightest insult go unavenged.

Shao Qing was participating in such a formal council for the first time and felt nervous and excited. After speaking, she immediately looked toward Wei Jing.

“Exactly.”

Her eyes gleamed with anticipation, and Wei Jing quickly returned her approving glance. He said with conviction, “The Pu tribe, along with Gaoling and myself, are deeply intertwined. If we wish to devise a plan, we must begin with them.”

This overall approach is the most appropriate. As for the details of the follow-up strategy, there’s no rush—first, let the Pu tribe mobilize; only then can we seize the right opportunity.

Wei Jing lightly tapped his index finger on the desk and said, “Intensify the training; we shall attack the barbarians in the coming days.”

Only in times of turmoil do opportunities for exploitation arise.

……

With the strategy decided, Wei Jing immediately assigned roles to his trusted aides.

Ji Huan was appointed county assistant magistrate, Han Xi military affairs clerk, and Zhang Yong officer in charge of criminal matters. Chen Qi was directly sent to the county barracks, temporarily appointed troop commander, and eventually promoted to military marquis.

In addition, several dozen specially selected Qingzhai Guards were all publicly designated with the title of “Bù Yuàn” so that the Pingtao County government could be completely controlled.

Where manpower had once been so limited that compromises had to be made, Wei Jing was now determined to ensure that the county office was absolutely foolproof. That evening, at the banquet, he announced the above news.

Kou Xuan, Zhuang Yan, and the others were not surprised at all. Upon hearing the news, they exchanged gentle smiles and cheerful laughter: “Our lord is wise and skillful at employing talented people.” They then raised their glasses in a toast to Ji Huan and the others, saying, “Your arrival has greatly eased the county office’s shortage of personnel.”

Zhuang Yan grinned and teased, “Ah, at long last, I can visit home—though I’m afraid those rascals back there won’t even recognize me.”

For these past two months, he has been so busy that eating, drinking, and sleeping have all taken place at the county office; he hasn’t even been home twice. He may have lost a bit of weight, but his spirits have never been higher.

Han Xi laughed and said, “In the future, we’ll continue to rely on your guidance, my brothers!”

“Not at all—and not at all,” came the quick retort.

The atmosphere was warm and lively, and Ji Huan and the others seamlessly integrated into the county office. Meanwhile, Han Xi, Chen Qi, and Deng Guang downed several cups, and after their first encounter, they quickly became well acquainted.

Seeing that everything was nearly in order, Wei Jing raised his hand and, in a deep voice, declared, “Everyone, the two barbarian tribes—especially the Pu tribe—have repeatedly harassed the common folk under my governance in Pingtao. In the past two months, their acts of burning, killing, looting, and pillaging have become far too frequent, and I absolutely cannot tolerate it.”

Since they have agreed to attack the barbarians in the coming days, it is time to prepare for battle—and he shall announce their plans immediately. The reason is clear: ever since the illicit salt affair concluded, the Pu tribe—cut off from their livelihood and subjected to strict sanctions—has been extremely incensed. Well, if you refuse to trade with me, then I’ll take by force—I’ll rob, I’ll seize!

The Pu tribe has reverted to their old ways, coming with anger and hatred, and their methods are ruthless. They ambush and slaughter passing merchants and plunder the residents of nearby towns—demanding money, goods, and even lives. In these two months, there have been over twenty such incidents, each one ending in fatalities and bloodshed.

The county’s constables are exhausted from constant efforts, but the mountains around Pingtao are high and the forests dense. The Pu tribe is accustomed to guerrilla tactics, which yield little success and only force them to intensify their brutal methods.

The worst incident occurred just yesterday: a merchant convoy from Gaoling was ambushed. Gaoling, it seems, struck a nerve with the Pu tribe—in the convoy, from the guards to the porters, dozens of people were slaughtered, not one of whom survived.

Publicly or privately, regardless of whether Ji Huan and the others had arrived, Wei Jing had reached the point where he felt compelled to dispatch troops to suppress the barbarians.

“Effective immediately, prepare for an offensive against the barbarians!”

“Yes!”

No sooner had Wei Jing finished speaking than everyone stood up in unison to respond.

After everyone responded, Zhuang Yan furrowed his brows and said, “The Pu tribe’s arrogance has grown so rampant that we simply cannot ignore it. However…”

He continued with anxious concern, “My lord, these mountains are high and the forests thick, and the exact location of the Pu tribe’s settlement remains unclear. I’m afraid we might end up suffering losses.”

The Pu tribe has lived deep in the mountains all year round and is extremely familiar with the terrain—moving through the forests as if on flat ground—and they are adept at using poisons. They have always carefully guarded their settlements, never allowing them to be easily known to outsiders. Over the years, here in Pingtao, they have only been able to delineate a rough area; the precise location has never been determined.

The barbarians’ advantages are precisely their weaknesses. That is why, all along, when facing their harassment, the Pingtao side has maintained a primarily defensive posture—hardly ever taking the initiative to venture into the mountains or forests for fear of a crushing defeat.

For many years, they have managed by holding back. It isn’t that they don’t want to act otherwise—it’s simply that the challenge is too great, and there’s no need to risk it. After all, the two barbarian tribes near Pingtao are not very large, and they dare not go too far with their actions. Moreover, over the past several decades, the Pu tribe discovered a salt well, and because they needed to cooperate with Pingtao to trade the salt, they have largely kept things quiet.

Thinking of this, Zhuang Yan sighed. That said, the Pu tribe’s methods this time have been far too brutal and the circumstances too dire; our old strategies simply won’t be sufficient.

He clasped his hands and said, “My lord, these two barbarian groups are not easy to handle—especially the Pu tribe, who are extremely skilled in poison. We must exercise utter caution.”

This is Wei Jing’s first major maneuver since taking office; if it succeeds, his path ahead will be smooth, but if it fails, his entire career could be impeded. Zhuang Yan has placed his whole future on this plan, so he naturally shares all the anxieties and hopes that the Lord will soon rise smoothly to high office.

Wei Jing nodded and replied, “Wengui’s words are absolutely correct.”

He ordered, “Shen Liang, Deng Guang, tomorrow, round up two hundred soldiers. First, sneak into the mountains and forests to check and update our topographic map.”

The Pingtao yamen does have a map of the nearby woods, but it lacks details—and further inside the area, nothing is mapped at all. Wei Jing personally instructed Chen Qi and Deng Guang, and covertly arranged for the Qingzhai Guards to be deployed. In former days, the Qingzhai Guards was an elite unit renowned for its ability to scout terrain and draft maps.

Chen Qi and Deng Guang stepped forward and solemnly accepted their orders.

Wei Jing then turned his gaze to Han Xi and the assorted military officers of all ranks from the county garrison. “You all must train your soldiers diligently and be ready for action at any moment,” he declared.

“Order received!”

…

With everything arranged in an orderly fashion, Wei Jing methodically and gravely set his plans in motion. Although dressed in plain attire, his bearing was immensely imposing—every officer called upon became visibly respectful and responded loudly with affirmations.

Noticing that every assignment had been handed out except for Zhang Yong, he anxiously asked, “My lord, what about me?”

Wei Jing replied, “I have entrusted an important mission to you, which is why I saved you until last.”

With a reassuring tone, Wei Jing spoke solemnly: “In the coming days, I will set out on the campaign. The security of the county office and the tranquility of Pingtao will be entrusted to you. This matter is critical—there must be no mistakes. You must proceed with utmost caution.”

After finishing, he glanced at Shao Qing—who had been silently listening to his every command. To say that he was simply entrusting the county office and Pingtao is an understatement; it was more like placing Shao Qing into Zhang Yong’s care.

In the southwestern jungles—with high mountains, dense forests, and treacherous paths teeming with snakes, insects, oppressive humidity, and ample noxious miasma—Wei Jing, after some hesitation, decided to leave his wife behind.

The significance of Shao Qing to Wei Jing speaks for itself. Had Ji Huan and the others arrived earlier, he might not have felt secure leaving her alone, but now, with her care entrusted to Zhang Yong, he can afford to do so.

Understanding, Zhang Yong immediately fixed his gaze with a serious expression and declared, “Understood—I will not let you down!”

“Good.” Wei Jing then called on a few more men: “Wang Jing, you are to take charge of Yao Yue and Zhang Yuan. From this day forward, serve as the Madam’s personal guards. You must protect her with utmost care—no errors shall be permitted.”

These three young men were his trusted personal guards, as dependable as Han Xi and the others. This appointment wasn’t made solely for the upcoming campaign against the barbarians; he had intended to do this since he liaised with the Qingzhai Guards.

Wang Jing and his two companions stepped forward and said, “Understood, orders received.” Then, turning to Shao Qing, they respectfully saluted her, “Understood—Madam, we have the honor.”

Shao Qing quickly urged, “Gentlemen, please stand up at once.”

At this point, all arrangements had been finalized. Deng Guang was the first to raise his cup and declared, “I hereby toast the County Magistrate—a glass in honor! This battle will surely be our victory!”

“Well said!”

Such wine is not one to be refused.

Wei Jing, in order to conceal his true identity, did not publicly display the signs of mourning in his daily life. Therefore, the cleansing-dust banquet could not be skipped, and there was no excuse to refuse a toast. Fortunately, Shao Qing was considerate; she took the opportunity to claim that she wasn’t good with liquor, so the first serving was plain wine. He lifted his head and drank every drop from his cup.

Chun Sheng, holding the wine jug, quickly refilled it. Then he raised his cup once again, “Everyone, please!”

Shao Qing also downed two large glasses in succession. The warm, slightly spicy wine flowed down her throat into her stomach. She realized that she really wasn’t good with alcohol; although she wasn’t drunk, she could feel the liquor coursing through her head, and her face felt pleasantly warm to the touch.

As the banquet neared its end, she softly said to Wei Jin by her side, “Husband, I’m going to leave now.”

After drinking, her apricot eyes sparkled with moisture and brightness, and her cheeks turned rosy. Winking at him, Wei Jing murmured softly, “Walk slowly—let Nanny Ping and Chunxi help support you.”

How serious could it be?

But Shao Qing did not retort; she only smiled and replied, “Very well.”

After exchanging a few cordial words with the others, she left first. Wei Jing watched her until her figure disappeared through the back room door before finally withdrawing his gaze.

Then Zhuang Yan laughed and said, “Our lord and madam’s bond is as deep as that of the legendary pair (*), truly enviable!”

Notes: a Chinese idiom that describes a deep and devoted love, especially between a married couple.

Unlike Ji Huan and the others—who did not know Wei Jing’s true identity—Zhuang Yan was accustomed to friendly host-guest relations. Buoyed by the wine-induced high spirits, he had playfully teased him.

But when Wei Jing heard it, he was momentarily stunned. Deep love? Affection?

Such unfamiliar, almost strange terms—he had never imagined that one day they would be applied to him—made his brows furrow ever so slightly.

In today’s upper society, the highest praise for a marital relationship is expressed by the phrase “treating each other as honored guests.” After all, a “guest” is precisely that—a visitor. When a husband and wife mutually respect, cherish, and are grateful to one another; when they remain considerate without ever losing face—living their entire lives as though they were esteemed guests to one another—they have reached the pinnacle of marital harmony.

Wei Jing was educated in this very principle from childhood. Moreover, his elder brother once, in his youth, fell deeply in love with a low-born songstress—spoiling her, even to the point of exclusive adoration. When the Empress repeatedly dissuaded him, she eventually dealt sternly with the songstress and reproached his brother. Later, she solemnly told him, “Deep affection does not bring longevity; be cautious and restrain yourself.”

At that time, even the wise and brilliant brother had been brought low by that songstress for a while. In consequence, Wei Jing took his mother’s admonitions to heart and committed them to memory.

Zhuang Yan, however, coming from a different background, held a completely divergent view. The extremely effusive compliments—through Zhuang Yan’s eyes—were all the most beautiful words. They struck Wei Jing’s ears and, at that moment, felt utterly inappropriate. Instantly, he recalled his mother’s teachings and, almost reflexively, rejected the notion.