Chapter 862: A Complete Transformation

"Ah, please go!"

At the entrance to a grand residence in Yanjing, the steward wore a helpless expression and sighed repeatedly as he urged the woman lingering at the gate to leave.

The woman was Wang Liufang, daughter of Wang Heng, formerly one of the Four Capital Region Commanders. She was also the former wife of Song Yanqing, Niu Youdao's one-time senior brother in the Shangqing Sect.

After the Song family collapsed, Wang Heng had forced them to write his daughter a letter of divorce and sever her ties to the household. Naturally, he could not have left her unmarried for the rest of her life. The following year, he found her another husband.

Wang Heng might have been one of the Four Capital Region Commanders, but his daughter was marrying for a second time. A great household of equal status would never take a remarried woman as a proper wife, and Wang Heng could not force families with foundations comparable to his own.

He therefore had no choice but to lower his expectations.

Even so, Wang Heng's power still carried weight. He found his daughter a respectable second marriage into one of the better-known merchant families in the capital.

The merchant household had been delighted to curry favor.

With Wang Heng as an in-law, its business naturally prospered smoothly.

But now Wang Heng was dead.

Worse, he had died under the charge of participating in rebellion, supposedly committing suicide out of fear of punishment.

Those who understood the inside story naturally knew Wang Heng would never have killed himself.

Nine times out of ten, someone in the palace had silenced him.

At first, the people behind Wang Heng had only wanted to eliminate a loose end.

Who could have expected their later plans to fail?

In order to distance themselves, they could no longer turn a blind eye. The charges against Wang Heng were made real, the false play turned into truth, and with such a grave crime hanging over the family, the Wang household was confiscated down to the last scrap.

The palace had not gone completely overboard.

The fact that Wang Heng's married daughter had not been implicated was proof enough of that.

But how could Wang Liufang's husband's family know the secrets of the deep palace, matters that could never be spoken of to outsiders?

They had watched household after household in the capital be confiscated during this recent upheaval.

Now even Wang Heng's family had been seized under a charge of rebellion.

Worse, rumor said the matter had offended Prince Yong of Nanzhou, who commanded powerful armies.

The entire household panicked.

This concerned the lives of every member of the family. How could they not be afraid?

To sever the connection, her husband's family handed Wang Liufang a letter of divorce and asked her to leave.

The steward could not bring himself to drive her away by force.

He sighed and pleaded, "Madam, if nothing else, think of the two young misses. They're still so little. You don't want to implicate them too, do you?"

After marrying into this household, Wang Liufang had given birth to two daughters.

At those words, tears streamed down her cheeks.

Her hand loosened from the doorframe.

She turned away, wiped her tears, and slowly descended the steps.

Several servants who had originally accompanied her as part of her dowry followed her out.

The situation looked far too serious.

None of them dared remain in the capital, so the little group left Yanjing.

When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter.

Not long after leaving the capital, the servants saw that Wang Liufang had no prospect left.

One night, while she slept from exhaustion, they bundled up the gold, silver, and valuables and fled.

Fortunately, one servant remained loyal to the Wang family.

He had once served as one of Wang Heng's personal soldiers and had followed him onto the battlefield.

Later, one of his legs was crippled. He walked with a limp and could no longer remain in the army. Making a living outside would also have been difficult for a disabled man, so Wang Heng had kept him in the household and given him work.

It was precisely because Wang Heng trusted him that he had placed the man beside his daughter.

The servant did not betray that trust.

He did not abandon Wang Liufang.

Instead, he took her with him back to his own native village.

Once they reached the countryside, what could a woman like Wang Liufang do?

She had been born into a wealthy household and raised with clothes appearing when she stretched out a hand and food arriving when she opened her mouth.

She could only survive with difficulty on what the lame servant managed to provide.

A man and woman with no formal relationship lived beneath one roof.

The villagers inevitably pointed fingers and whispered.

Eventually, Wang Liufang herself offered to marry the servant, a man nearly ten years older than she was.

Little by little, she learned to work in the fields.

She learned sewing, mending, and the ordinary tasks of keeping a household.

Slowly, she became a peasant woman.

She also bore the man three children.

From that point onward, Wang Liufang never again spoke of where she had come from or of the illustrious family into which she had been born.

Nor did she dare speak of it.

As for the two daughters she had left behind in the capital, she never received any news of them again.

She never made contact.

Her own life was poor, and she had nothing she could give them. Ashamed to appear before them, and unwilling to reopen those ties, she could only bless them silently in her heart.

For the latter half of her life, Wang Liufang concealed both her name and past.

Her days were hard and poor, but she passed the rest of her years in peace.

Under the sweep of great events, countless lives rose and fell.

Joy and anger, laughter and tears, life and death, reunion and separation—all drifted helplessly in the great waves, beyond anyone's control.

In the end, time ignored them all without mercy.

Being alive was better than anything.

...

Inside the imperial palace of Song, Luo Zhao stirred awake in a daze on a brocade couch.

The moment he opened his eyes, he froze.

Emperor Mu Zhuozhen of Song stood beside the couch with his hands behind his back, staring down at him.

Luo Zhao instinctively glanced around.

He was not in his own home.

"Awake?" Mu Zhuozhen asked.

Luo Zhao said nothing.

He slowly pushed himself upright and sat there in silence.

Mu Zhuozhen said, "One small setback, and you collapse completely. You spend your days drowning yourself in wine. You have disappointed me greatly!"

Bringing Luo Zhao directly into the palace had been unavoidable.

The commander at the front was incompetent and simply could not stop Jin Jue's offensive.

In a single battle, Song lost two hundred thousand troops.

That one defeat alone threw this side into panic.

When they fought again, Jin Jue drove them backward step by step.

Jin Jue, who had always fought steadily and cautiously, had suddenly revealed his edge and launched an assault of astonishing ferocity.

The difference in ability between the current commander and Luo Zhao was obvious at a glance.

Reports of defeat came one after another.

This side immediately had the drunken Luo Zhao brought into the palace and made him sober up.

Still Luo Zhao did not speak.

Mu Zhuozhen's voice sank.

"Luo Zhao, receive the imperial decree!"

...

A few fallen leaves drifted down from time to time.

Jia Wuqun sat beneath a tree, reading through one intelligence report after another.

Chancellor Zi Pingxiu arrived dragging his exhausted body and sat opposite him.

Jia Wuqun looked up, smiled faintly, then picked up his brush and wrote several characters on the white paper clipped to the slanted writing board before him:

The Chancellor is tired.

With a casual push, he rotated the board on its specially made stand so the writing faced Zi Pingxiu.

Zi Pingxiu read it and waved a hand.

Then he sighed.

"Luo Zhao has been restored to his former office and urgently sent to the front to take command of the war."

Jia Wuqun picked up his brush and wrote on the reverse side of the rotating board:

The great tide is already lost. Luo Zhao alone cannot turn it back.

He rotated the board toward Zi Pingxiu.

The side he had written on before swung back toward him, and he tore off the earlier sheet.

Zi Pingxiu said bitterly, "Is Great Song really going to end like this? Does sir have any strategy that can teach me what to do?"

Jia Wuqun wrote:

I too am powerless.

He turned the board toward Zi Pingxiu and tore away the page that came back.

Zi Pingxiu said, "Back then, Song was weakened almost beyond endurance by Yan's suppression."

"Afterward, Song rose rapidly and strengthened its national power. Only then did we gain the confidence to attempt swallowing Yan."

"Others believed that was because this old man governed the state well, but I knew it was sir's strategies behind the scenes that helped me."

"Now sir says even you are powerless. Hearing that chills my heart!"

Jia Wuqun wrote:

I am only a scholar. I do not excel at warfare. Faced with slaughter on the battlefield, I too have no answer.

Zi Pingxiu pointed toward the intelligence reports piled nearby.

"Sir has been collecting and studying information about Wu Gongling in the south all this time. Surely that means you are trying to think of a solution?"

"Sir, the situation is desperate. This is no time to keep anything hidden!"

Jia Wuqun wrote:

There is one method, but at best it would prolong our life by clinging to survival. Besides, His Majesty may not agree.

Zi Pingxiu's spirits lifted.

"Whether His Majesty agrees or not, tell me first."

Jia Wuqun wrote four characters:

A complete transformation.

Zi Pingxiu frowned.

"What do you mean by 'a complete transformation'?"

Jia Wuqun wrote:

Wu Gongling's ambition is obvious to every passerby. He wants to proclaim himself emperor. The only thing he lacks is a state-protecting divine artifact.

Zi Pingxiu was shocked.

"You mean give the state-protecting divine artifact to Wu Gongling and let him proclaim himself emperor?"

Jia Wuqun nodded.

Zi Pingxiu rose.

Stroking his beard, he paced back and forth for a while before sitting opposite Jia Wuqun again.

"Even if we give him the divine artifact, will Wu Gongling dare proclaim himself emperor?"

"If he does, once Han defeats us here, he will unquestionably be the next target!"

Jia Wuqun raised his brush again.

Wu Gongling has reached a point where there is already no road of retreat. If he proclaims himself emperor, Han will not spare him. If he does not proclaim himself emperor, Han will still not spare him. Sooner or later, Han will deal with him.

Since either road leads to the same place, give him the divine artifact and add a little provocation. He will certainly proclaim himself emperor.

Once he does, the Tiannü Sect supporting him from behind will inevitably fall into internal disorder!

Zi Pingxiu asked, "If we give him the divine artifact, will he then send troops to help us?"

Jia Wuqun wrote:

No.

Only if His Majesty abdicates, presents the divine artifact, and supports Wu Gongling in ascending the throne of Song—giving him command over both north and south—will Wu Gongling fight Han with everything he has.

Only then can Song gain greater strategic room. Once the strength of both sides is gathered together, our resistance will become far stronger.

Song's three great sects will agree.

His Majesty will not.

His Majesty would rather be shattered jade than an intact tile!

Zi Pingxiu fell silent.

Now he understood why Jia Wuqun had said earlier that the Emperor would never agree.

Jia Wuqun wrote another line and turned the board toward him.

Preserve Song, and His Majesty dies—but the Chancellor may keep his position and power.

Preserve His Majesty, and both Great Song and His Majesty die. The Chancellor dies as well.

I will not teach the Chancellor to become a disloyal and unrighteous minister.

How you choose is something the Chancellor must examine for himself.

Zi Pingxiu rose again.

He paced ceaselessly through the courtyard, sometimes lowering his head, sometimes looking up toward the sky, sighing over and over.

He understood Jia Wuqun's meaning.

So long as he personally presided over this affair, not only could his own position be preserved, but a group of officials at court could be saved as well.

If Wu Gongling wanted to take control of Song smoothly, he would need men like them.

But just as Jia Wuqun had said, once Zi Pingxiu did this, he would become a disloyal and unrighteous minister.

Jia Wuqun quietly watched him pace back and forth.

Ever since Misty Pavilion had cut out his tongue, silence was all that remained to him.

Only after a long while did Zi Pingxiu turn back and ask, "Sir, had you thought of this long ago and simply refused to speak of it?"

Jia Wuqun raised his brush and wrote out the reason:

It is the worst of bad strategies. Speaking of it early would have served no purpose.

At a time when every sigh of wind and cry of cranes breeds fear, and every bush looks like an enemy soldier, His Majesty's eyes and ears are everywhere. The slightest sign of preparation or unusual movement would bring disaster.

Until the final moment, we must not act rashly. The Chancellor must reveal no trace of anything.

When that final moment arrives, Song's three great sects will need only the slightest push. They will not hesitate to lend the Chancellor their strength, and everything will follow naturally.

With the protection of the three great sects, the Chancellor himself will face no danger.

Zi Pingxiu gave a bitter smile after reading it.

He understood.

But with that slight push, the imperial authority of the Mu clan would vanish in an instant.

He sighed.

"Sir truly has given me a fine solution. You've made this old man unable to choose left or right, unable to decide what to do."

"Let me ask you one thing."

"If you carry out this worst of bad strategies, will you feel guilty?"

Jia Wuqun wrote one final line:

So long as those who manipulate the great tide remain and the rules do not change, struggle and seizure will never know an end.

Who becomes sovereign? Who proclaims himself emperor?

What is any of that to me?

I ask only to preserve one corner of peace for the Zi Residence.

I have no interest in who possesses All Under Heaven.

[End of Chapter 862]