Chapter 511: - The Fall

The Military Commissioner of Wei Circuit was named Jia Tianhua.

When he first entered officialdom, he had possessed the fearlessness of a newborn calf that did not know tigers were dangerous. He once submitted a memorial impeaching Chancellor Han, bluntly accusing the Chancellor of deliberately allowing Great Qian’s military preparedness to decay and placing the state itself in peril.

Chancellor Han was most famous for one particular remark:

“Only those whose names are proclaimed at Donghua Gate are true good men.”

He was also notoriously hot-tempered and prided himself on being rigidly upright.

So after receiving Jia Tianhua’s impeachment, Chancellor Han simply threw down his work and stopped attending court.

When an important court official was impeached this severely, the normal response was to plead illness, wait for His Majesty to deal with the matter, then return to court and the yamen afterward.

That was considered dignified.

But as one of the chief ministers of the realm, Chancellor Han faced impeachments and political attacks every day. The usual custom had long since ceased to apply to him.

Yet for some reason, Jia Tianhua particularly irritated him.

So Chancellor Han chose an approach that appeared the most dignified of all while actually being the most ruthless.

Your Majesty, do you want me, or do you want him?

There was no choice to make.

And so Jia Tianhua, a newly minted jinshi who had not ranked among the first three in the palace examination but had still placed very high and seemed destined for a brilliant career, was exiled by a single imperial decree to Qiong Island.

Qiong Island lay at the southernmost edge of Great Qian.

It was said to be unbearably hot and covered in miasma. Outsiders who entered rarely escaped without becoming ill.

Being assigned there as an official was practically a suspended death sentence.

Whether the people of Qiong Island themselves believed their homeland to be such a terrifying place was difficult to say.

But among officials and literati, the island had long since become synonymous with “going off to die.”

When Yao Zizhan was young, he once wrote a *Rhapsody on Apricot Blossoms*.

In it, he described the dazzling charm of one chief minister’s concubine lifting the curtain of her sedan during the Lantern Festival.

Rumor then spread that the chief minister was furious and wanted to exile Yao Zizhan, who at the time was still a Hanlin scholar, to Qiong Island.

When Yao Zizhan heard the news, he wept for three days.

He wrote eighteen *Rhapsodies of Parting* and another seventy-eight poems titled *To...*

The *Rhapsodies of Parting* recalled scene after scene from his birth, to his studies, to the imperial examinations, and finally his entry into officialdom.

They were a farewell to his own past.

The *To...* poems were written to family, examination mentors, friends, and colleagues.

They were farewells to everyone else.

The general meaning was:

Ah, I’m going to Qiong Island to serve as an official.

Ah, I’m going to die.

When the transfer order finally arrived, Yao Zizhan gave all his concubines to his friends, sent his principal wife back to their hometown with the children, and set off alone to take up his post.

That day, an enormous crowd gathered outside Shangjing to see him off.

It looked less like a man departing for office than a man being escorted to his death.

Yet not long after Yao Zizhan left the capital, before he had even reached Qiong Island, news suddenly arrived that the chief minister who hated him had died of illness.

A new chief minister took power.

A new broom naturally had to sweep three times and display a different style.

So Yao Zizhan, who had not yet reached his destination, was summoned back.

Yao Zizhan wept with joy and raced his horse toward the capital.

Teacher Yao never made it to Qiong Island.

Jia Tianhua did.

He stayed there for more than ten years.

And he actually managed to make quite a name for himself.

Pirates frequently infested the waters around Qiong Island.

Jia Tianhua trained armed units from among the islanders, integrated the indigenous warriors of the Thirty-Six Caves and Seventy-Two Stockades, and fought several major victories alongside the Zu Clan Army.

Three years ago, the Yan marched south.

Great Qian’s Three Frontiers proved nearly useless.

Yan cavalry hooves reached the Bian River and shook Shangjing itself.

After the Yan withdrew, Chancellor Han and several other chief ministers left office.

His Majesty seized the opportunity to reclaim authority.

Only then was Jia Tianhua transferred back from Qiong Island.

After serving one year as Vice Minister of War, he was sent to the Three Frontiers and became Military Commissioner of Wei Circuit.

In truth, his life had followed a path remarkably similar to Teacher Yao’s.

Both had offended a chief minister.

Both had been punished.

Both punishments even pointed toward Qiong Island.

But who told Teacher Yao to be the Literary Saint?

Once a man’s title contained the word “Saint,” even his fate became hard.

The chief minister who wanted to exile him died before Yao Zizhan even reached Qiong Island.

Chancellor Han, by contrast, was publicly recognized among the chief ministers of the day as possessing one of the strongest bodies of them all.

If the Yan had not marched south three years ago, Chancellor Han might have stood in court for another ten years.

He might even have competed with the current Emperor, who excelled at preserving his health, to see whether Han would survive long enough to become a minister entrusted with the succession or whether His Majesty would survive long enough to bestow the posthumous title “Wenduan” upon him.

Whatever the case, Jia Tianhua had returned.

Every sovereign had his own ministers, but waiting for a sovereign to change usually meant waiting for the sovereign to die.

Compared with that, waiting for a chief minister to change was considerably easier.

“Ah. Stay on Qiong Island long enough and you get used to the heat. But being transferred from there directly to the Three Frontiers really is going from one extreme of fire to another of ice.”

Jia Tianhua spoke jokingly.

The young general sitting opposite him laughed.

“Lord Jia, this is hardly anything yet. Yinlang Commandery to our north is already one of the mildest regions in all the Yan lands.”

This young general could speak and laugh freely in front of Jia Tianhua because he possessed the standing to do so.

Over the last fifty years, Great Qian’s Western Army was widely acknowledged as its most capable force.

After the Tattooed-Face Chancellor, the Zhong Clan had presided over the Western Army for decades and possessed roots sunk deep into it.

This young man was the Zhong Clan’s new standard-bearer.

His Majesty had even bestowed an Imperial Princess upon him as wife, making him an Imperial Son-in-Law.

For a time, imperial favor toward him had been unrivaled.

Unfortunately, when this Imperial Son-in-Law married his princess, Count Pingye of Yan happened to be stealing a princess from Chu.

His entire spotlight was swallowed cleanly.

Two more generals sat opposite them.

One had a long beard and an exceptionally heroic bearing.

His surname was Han.

He ranked fifth among his brothers and was nicknamed Old Fifth Han.

The other possessed a restrained martial air between his brows.

His name was Le Huan.

Old Fifth Han had become famous during the Yan invasion three years earlier.

After his own main force was defeated, he still managed to rescue his father-in-law and escort the old man all the way back to Shangjing.

Then, beneath Shangjing’s walls, he fled once again from an attack by Count Pingye.

Yet the world praised his loyalty and righteousness and envied his father-in-law for finding such an excellent son-in-law.

Old Fifth Han had also crossed blades with Great Yan’s Count Pingye several times.

Although he lost, he still retained a certain degree of organized strength afterward.

As Count Pingye’s reputation rose higher and higher over the years, Old Fifth Han’s own standing rose along with it.

Count Pingye, however, did not remember who this man was at all.

The first time they crossed paths, Count Pingye was still serving under Li Fusheng.

Li Fusheng’s central force smashed a Qian coalition army centered on the Zu Clan Army.

During the pursuit, Zheng Fan had originally intended to collect Old Fifth Han’s head.

Then he discovered the man was a hard nut.

Count Pingye, who had always valued caution, immediately pulled back at the edge of the cliff.

A rumor later spread through Qian that Old Fifth Han had fought Great Yan’s Count Pingye for three hundred exchanges in the middle of the chaos.

The two were supposedly perfectly matched.

Count Pingye had even praised Old Fifth Han’s peerless courage.

In the end, the two men supposedly developed a sense of mutual appreciation.

Old Fifth Han never denied it.

What he did not know was that he genuinely had exchanged looks with Count Pingye once on that battlefield.

If he had known Zheng Fan’s identity at the time, perhaps he really would have turned his horse around and tried to snatch a chestnut from the fire.

Then again, if he had killed Zheng Fan early, Count Pingye would never have gained his later enormous reputation.

In that case, killing him would not have been worth much prestige anyway.

Their second “clash” occurred beneath Shangjing.

Old Fifth Han gathered a broken force in his father-in-law’s name and opposed Count Pingye outside the capital.

He was defeated, yet he supposedly relieved Shangjing’s danger.

A shining example of loyalty and courage!

The feat looked even more fearless because Baili Jian and Baili Xianglan had turned around and left without drawing a single sword.

In reality, Count Pingye had merely found a landlord’s estate in the outskirts of Shangjing and taken a bath that day.

More importantly, the Baili siblings could never publicly explain what actually happened.

The truth was that they had possessed an excellent opportunity to kill Count Pingye.

At the time, very few guards surrounded Zheng Fan, and he had not yet encountered the Sword Saint of Jin.

But Old Fifth Han’s flurry of activity brought a mob of broken troops into the area.

That drew the Yan camp’s attention.

A Battalion of Yan soldiers was dispatched.

The Baili siblings had no choice but to turn back.

To some extent, Old Fifth Han had actually rescued Count Pingye.

But fate was like that.

Give a little.

Take a little.

Old Fifth Han had built prestige by using Count Pingye as a stepping stone.

In a sense, he had earned it.

One might even say the favor had been repaid, though he himself knew none of this.

As for Le Huan, three years ago he had belonged to the same coalition army as Old Fifth Han.

The two had once fled from the same defeat.

The difference was that after Old Fifth Han’s rout, he fled south and happened to rescue his father-in-law.

Le Huan led his remnants north and “recovered” several cities previously occupied by the Yan.

Of course, that recovery contained quite a lot of water.

The Yan had advanced so quickly that many small county towns surrendered as soon as proclamations arrived.

They had not even changed the local chief officials.

So when the royal army returned, everyone simply killed the officials who had “collaborated with the enemy” and joyously welcomed the royal army again.

When the Yan later withdrew, they vanished just as quickly.

Le Huan did not truly impede them.

Still, his actions had earned him enormous political capital.

The most important fact was that Qian’s performance in that war three years ago had been so humiliating that the court had no choice but to choose generals from among the short men.

Anyone who had lost but still displayed one or two bright points had to be brought forward for propaganda.

That was why Le Huan and Old Fifth Han now possessed enough standing to sit beneath Zhong Tianlang and Jia Tianhua as commanding officers.

“His Majesty has sent three confidential decrees in recent days,” Jia Tianhua said, turning an amber ring on the ring finger of his left hand. The ring had been personally bestowed by the Emperor in recognition of Jia Tianhua’s more than ten hard years on Qiong Island. “His Majesty’s intention is already clear. The Yan are campaigning against Chu. Great Qian launching a northern expedition against Yan is now practically settled.”

Zhong Tianlang said, “A northern expedition is inevitable. If Great Qian sits on the mountain and watches the tigers fight at a moment like this, that would be far too shortsighted.”

“Heh-heh.”

Jia Tianhua shook his head and smiled.

In his youth, he had suffered badly because of his own fiery temper.

So he felt some desire to protect this outstanding young general before him.

“You may say that in front of me. You may say it in front of Commander Han and Commander Le. But never put those words into a memorial. You should know that many ministers at court truly do wish to sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight.”

Zhong Tianlang said disdainfully, “All men holding office while doing nothing but eating their salaries.”

Jia Tianhua sighed. “You cannot put it that way. By ordinary logic, sitting and watching the tigers fight is correct. Yan attacks Chu. Chu will certainly respond with everything it has. When two tigers fight, the contest should drag on for a long time.”

Zhong Tianlang said, “And what if the Yan break Zhennan Pass and sweep through Chu? What then becomes of Great Qian? From ancient times to the present, men who wanted to watch the fire from the opposite bank rarely came to good ends.”

“No, no. That is not how the words work. Only failures are described as ‘watching the fire from the opposite bank.’ Winners are usually described as ‘planning everything from within the command tent.’ Governing a great state is like cooking a small fish. Great Qian has indeed spent the past few years drilling troops and preparing for war, but the gap between us and the Yan remains enormous. Three years ago, seventy thousand Yan soldiers were enough to march directly beneath Shangjing and humiliate His Majesty. A hundred years ago, did Great Qian not send five hundred thousand elite troops north only to suffer that kind of ending? Even one of Yan’s commanderies changed its name because of that campaign.”

Zhong Tianlang immediately replied, “My lord, leave aside the war three years ago. Great Qian had enjoyed a century of peace. The Yan attacked suddenly while our frontier defenses had decayed. That was what created the disaster. But as for the campaign a hundred years ago, does my lord truly not know why that one was lost? If those generals had not suddenly created chaos, how could Great Qian’s five hundred thousand elite troops have been smashed by thirty thousand cavalry under the Marquis of Zhenbei?”

Jia Tianhua frowned and rebuked him.

“Do not mention that matter again.”

Across from him, Old Fifth Han and Le Huan showed none of the surprise one might expect from men hearing a great secret.

That was understandable.

One man’s father-in-law had governed an entire region.

The other’s teacher had been a Confucian commander who, after the Tattooed-Face Chancellor, once presided over warfare in the southwest.

There were things ordinary people could never learn that men like them could know.

A hundred years ago, Emperor Taizong of Great Qian led five hundred thousand founding-era elite troops north.

He had inherited the throne as the younger brother of the previous Emperor.

But the Crown Prince appointed by Emperor Taizu was still alive.

So after the great army entered Yan territory, generals from several routes directly launched a military remonstrance.

They demanded that Emperor Taizong return the throne to the Crown Prince and restore the succession.

In truth, one reason Taizong had rushed into a northern expedition immediately after taking the throne was that he wanted victory to establish his prestige and suppress the senior military commanders.

His elder brother had founded the dynasty through the army.

Taizong could gather the court into his hands, but that did not necessarily mean he could gather the army’s heart.

Yet when affairs were pushed too quickly, problems naturally followed.

The military remonstrance was something Taizong had never imagined.

The expedition had already run into trouble because the Yan had stripped the countryside bare.

Then came the remonstrance.

Troops loyal to the Crown Prince and troops loyal to Emperor Taizong actually confronted one another on Yan soil.

So later stories about the first Marquis of Zhenbei being some peerless god of war, or bringing Daoist masters and mystics to make his soldiers glow with supernatural light before charging, were all side details.

The real reason was simple.

When the first Marquis of Zhenbei led thirty thousand iron cavalry into the Qian position, the various Qian armies inside the outer security line were already on the verge of fighting one another.

And even five hundred thousand pigs would still have been founding-era pigs personally trained by Emperor Taizu.

Even if the first Marquis of Zhenbei opened both hands and grabbed as fast as he could, it would have been difficult to seize them all in a short time.

What actually happened was that his attack broke the balance inside the Qian army.

Each internal faction thought the other had begun moving.

Then, the first Marquis of Zhenbei attacked from outside, while Qian’s armies enthusiastically hacked each other apart inside.

That was what ultimately produced the catastrophic rout.

When a state was newly founded, its martial vigor was usually strongest and its army most capable.

Qian, through an operation so absurd it could hardly have been more absurd, directly broke the spine of its own martial fortune.

At the same time, it made an outstanding contribution to Great Yan.

The reason Great Yan had spent the last century subduing the desert Barbarians, gradually suppressing the threat from the west and turning eastward, was the establishment of the Marquis of Zhenbei Residence.

And the heaven-shaking achievement that created the first Marquis of Zhenbei’s position had been voluntarily delivered into his hands by the Qian.

There had been one benefit after that disastrous war.

Most of the troublesome military commanders died in Yan territory.

And Emperor Taizong’s fortune was truly vast.

Although struck by an arrow, he still managed to sit in an ox cart and escape back to Qian alive.

The northern expedition was a failure, but his elder brother’s remaining influence inside the army was gone.

The next year, the Crown Prince appointed by Emperor Taizu, Taizong’s nephew, died of illness.

The third year, one of Emperor Taizu’s concubine-born sons, the one who had been enfeoffed as a Prince, died of illness.

The fourth year, Emperor Taizu’s youngest son fell into the water during a pleasure excursion, caught a chill, and died of illness.

After that, throughout Emperor Taizong’s reign, someone from Emperor Taizu’s branch of the clan seemed to die almost every year.

When Emperor Gaozong succeeded him, Emperor Taizu’s line continued maintaining this tradition of terrible news.

Only after Emperor Renzong came to the throne did Emperor Taizu’s descendants finally escape the curse.

Not because Renzong possessed some extraordinary benevolence.

By then, Emperor Taizu’s line had already been thinned almost to extinction.

And after the throne had passed through several generations, the position of Taizong’s branch had stabilized.

Continuing the killing would simply have looked too ugly.

The atmosphere in the room had grown somewhat stiff.

Old Fifth Han spoke.

“Lord Jia, this general believes Great Qian should launch the northern expedition now. Sitting on the mountain and watching the tigers fight may very well end with the Yan defeating us one by one.”

Jia Tianhua looked toward Le Huan.

Le Huan also rose.

“My lord, this general likewise believes we should march north.”

The Three Frontiers of Great Qian had maintained at least the appearance of peace when Grand Commandant Yang presided over them.

But in truth, how could a collection of military circuits that lived from smuggling and siphoning military funds ever genuinely coexist without conflict?

Wei Circuit.

Liang Circuit.

Chen Circuit.

Together they were called the Three Frontiers.

But each possessed considerable independence.

In earlier years, when Yan and Qian were not at war, the three even fought armed clashes among themselves over how to divide the profits from smuggling crossings.

Grand Commandant Yang might have been a eunuch, but he had truly possessed exceptional ability when it came to integrating the whole structure.

That was the real reason the great ministers at court had quietly accepted him as Governor-General of the Three Frontiers.

Yao Zizhan, who held that position now, was an even greater peacemaker and had also preserved the balance remarkably well.

But if they truly went to war, if they truly mobilized troops, how were all these forces supposed to coordinate?

Leave aside the Three Frontiers.

There was also the Western Army.

There was the Zu Clan Army.

There were guest armies transferred into the region from elsewhere over the past several years.

Who could command all of them?

This was not a problem His Majesty could solve with a single decree.

Qian was not Great Yan.

Under either one of Yan’s two great frontier lords, none of the armies below would dare fart out a complaint.

So after counting through every possibility, only Old Lord Zhong possessed anything close to the necessary standing.

Yet when the topic turned in that direction, Zhong Tianlang did not immediately name his own father as Old Fifth Han and Le Huan had done.

Jia Tianhua looked at the Imperial Son-in-Law with a smile that was not quite a smile.

Then, Le Huan and Old Fifth Han also turned toward him.

Zhong Tianlang took a deep breath.

He said nothing.

Because his father, the father who had already spent the better part of a year confined to a sickbed, did not support a northern expedition.

...

After the Western Army moved north, it had never been transferred away from the Three Frontiers.

For the Qian court, if the rout a hundred years ago was so distant that the impression had grown vague, then the Yan march south three years ago was enough to carve itself into the bones of this generation.

So after the Yan withdrew, the Qian court mobilized the strength of Jiangnan, began training new armies again, and continued filling the Three Frontiers.

They were, after all, the first defensive line against Yan.

Over the past several years, a consensus had existed throughout Qian’s court and country.

The Yan were very likely to invade Qian again.

The reason was simple.

Qian was too easy to attack.

Many people even wondered whether the Emperor of Yan regretted that, back then, the main forces of the Zhenbei Army and Jingnan Army had gone into Jin instead of marching south into Qian.

Surely the gains would have been much greater if they had attacked Qian instead?

People with genuine strategic vision were always a tiny minority.

Most found it difficult to understand that Yan’s main force opening Jin had never really been a choice.

It had been inevitable.

At the time, the Helian and Wenren coalition had already nearly broken through Yan’s Horseshoe Mountains defensive line.

If the war continued for another half year, cavalrymen from the Three Jin lands might have been strutting beneath Yanjing’s walls, allowing that brilliant Emperor of Yan to experience the treatment enjoyed by the ruler of Qian.

Besides, Qian truly had disgraced itself during the last war.

But precisely because the Three Frontiers and their armies still existed, the Yan, even after crossing the Bian River, ultimately had no choice but to withdraw.

They failed to occupy a single inch of Qian territory.

Without breaking the Three Frontiers, the Yan simply could not truly lay hands on Great Qian.

Fortunately, many people did understand this point.

So after the war, court and country alike supported continued expansion of the Three Frontiers, reducing the inflated numbers on their troop registers, and cleaning up their administration.

The Western Army’s main base remained Mianzhou City, the same city Count Pingye had used twice to farm military merit in earlier years.

The Western Army had built an enormous military camp centered on Mianzhou City.

In recent years, another major expansion of the city itself had also begun.

One truly had to admit it.

Great Qian was rich.

When the Yan marched south three years ago, they moved extraordinarily fast.

Apart from a handful of prefectures, they never really had time to plunder the countryside thoroughly.

Even so, warfare caused enormous losses across northern Qian.

The Yan had also chosen, with exceptional malice, to begin the war just before the spring plowing, directly ruining an entire year of agricultural work across much of Qian’s north.

Yet even after that, Qian could continue sending troops north, continue building cities, and still keep the entire Three Frontiers system functioning.

That night in Shangjing, after drinking too much, Little Sixth once told Count Pingye something.

He said it was a damned shame Jiangnan did not belong to Yan.

If Ji Lao Six possessed that fat, rich land in his own hands, then forget helping his father sweep the East and unify all the Xia lands.

Even if his father went mad and decided to attack the desert, then punch straight through the desert and go see what lay farther west, Little Sixth would still have confidence he could support the old man’s insanity.

Whether they could actually win was another matter.

At the very least, that wealth would provide the confidence and capital to dream of trying.

That was also why the Emperor of Yan could never stop thinking about attacking Qian.

Qian was simply too rich.

Perhaps it was precisely because it was too rich that it was so bad at war.

At that moment, the commander of the Western Army who could stand alone beneath Heaven’s gaze as its banner, a man whose words carried enormous weight throughout the entire Three Frontiers structure, a man whom even Yao Zizhan, Literary Saint and Governor-General of the Three Frontiers, consulted on every military matter, Old Lord Zhong Wendao, lay on a sickbed.

An elderly woman was feeding him medicine.

She was already past fifty.

She was neither wife nor concubine.

She was a native of the southwest.

When she was young, Qian suppressed the Xin’an Rebellion.

Zhong Wendao had saved her then.

From that day onward, she remained beside him as a servant.

She was technically a servant, yet held extremely high standing within the Zhong household.

Even Zhong Tianlang addressed her respectfully as Nanny.

“Master, Second Master is waiting outside.”

Zhong Wendao opened his eyes.

Many age spots had already appeared across his face.

This man who had once dominated the southwest and almost single-handedly upheld the inheritance of Great Qian’s Western Army had, in the end, grown old.

The elderly woman looked at him.

Her heart was filled with desolation.

She still remembered the handsome young man who appeared before her all those years ago, hauled her onto his horse, and prevented Qian soldiers gone mad with killing from violating her.

The southwest natives did not truly possess much concept of state or nation.

In their eyes, the stockade on the mountain opposite was often just as foreign as Qian.

So she bore Zhong Wendao no hatred of state or people.

But time was merciless.

The young general who once rode with saber across his horse could not escape the fate of growing old and lying sick in bed.

“Let him... come in.”

Zhong Wendao’s voice was exhausted.

The elderly woman nodded.

After feeding him the final spoonful of medicine, she slowly withdrew.

A short while later, Zhong Wendao’s younger brother, Zhong Wenmian, entered.

People called Zhong Wendao Old Lord Zhong.

They called Zhong Wenmian Younger Lord Zhong.

The Zhong family’s standing had, in truth, been upheld by these two brothers.

Three years ago, Old Lord Zhong first led one hundred fifty thousand Western Army troops north.

Soon afterward, under court direction, the Xishan Camp cavalry that the Western Army had spent years carefully cultivating was split away.

The man placed in command of it was Zhong Wenmian.

The division of the Western Army began from that moment.

In recent years, the court had been vigorously training new armies while simultaneously increasing supplies to the old military establishment.

That became easier after the capital garrison, an enormous burden that devoured endless money and grain every year while proving useless in wartime, was cut down on a massive scale.

Support for the Western Army became much more generous.

But one matter was one matter.

The partition of the Western Army never slowed.

By now, counting the forces under Zhong Wendao and Zhong Wenmian, what remained of the Western Army had been divided into three more pieces, each controlled by another military family that had once belonged to the Western Army system beneath the Zhong Clan.

At the same time, the court had begun replacing hereditary native chieftains in the southwest with officials appointed directly by the central state.

It was starting to impose more direct governance upon the region.

But in Zhong Wendao’s eyes, all of this was happening too quickly.

When Chancellor Han and his faction still controlled the court, Great Qian had suppressed the military severely in favor of civil officials.

Yet Chancellor Han and the others had at least understood the principle that governing a great state was like cooking a small fish.

They had possessed a deep understanding of the southwest.

The solution there was not something this generation could complete.

It belonged to the next generation, perhaps even the generation after that.

Time had to be exchanged for the southwest natives’ identification with Qian, until they truly believed themselves to be Qian people.

But after Chancellor Han fell from power, the new chief ministers raised by His Majesty proudly called themselves reformers.

They acted with exceptional aggressiveness.

That certainly breathed life into a great empire founded more than a century ago and already beginning to smell of old age.

But their haste also created dangers.

From letters sent by his family in recent years, Zhong Wendao could already see signs of instability returning in the southwest.

When all was said and done, the Western Army’s main force had moved north.

Its ability to dominate and intimidate the southwest had already fallen drastically.

At a time like this, stability should have come first.

“Brother, has your illness improved?”

Zhong Wenmian knelt beside the bed and looked at his elder brother.

The two brothers had lived together since childhood and shared a very deep bond.

Later, they followed the Tattooed-Face Chancellor together in pacifying the southwest.

Brotherhood layered with comradeship in battle.

Impossible to separate.

But affection was affection.

The partitioning of the Western Army was another matter.

“Soon.”

Zhong Wendao answered.

Some old people grew more frightened of death the older they became.

Others became more indifferent to life and death with every passing year.

Zhong Wenmian had not expected his elder brother, who had always seemed capable of holding up the sky, to sound this dispirited.

“Brother, you’ll be fine. You’ll recover.”

Zhong Wendao smiled with difficulty.

In truth, two years ago, roughly half a year after the Yan withdrew, Zhong Wendao had already submitted a memorial saying he was old and unwell and asking the court to allow him to return to his southwest homeland to recuperate.

He was old.

He truly could not adapt to the climate of the Three Frontiers.

But how could the court dare allow this stabilizing pillar to leave the Three Frontiers at that time?

It refused directly, then granted him additional offices and titles.

Afterward, every half year, Zhong Wendao submitted another petition asking to retire and return home.

Every time, the court refused.

Then it granted him still more offices and titles.

It even had Zhong Tianlang marry an Imperial Princess.

One reason was that the court was in the middle of dismantling the Western Army and did not want Zhong Wendao returning to the southwest and using his prestige to stabilize the old structure.

Another was that some men at court believed Zhong Wendao’s repeated requests were only meant to reassure the throne that he did not cling to power.

Only those truly close to him knew the truth.

Zhong Wendao genuinely wanted to return because his body could no longer endure this place.

But the court held him firmly at the Three Frontiers.

Three years.

Three years.

Three years.

The damage caused by an alien climate was especially lethal to an old general.

His vitality had already been drained away.

He would very likely never receive the chance to die on a battlefield.

Instead, the court would probably hold him here until the Three Frontiers squeezed the last trace of life from his body.

“Brother.”

Zhong Wendao had already guessed why his younger brother had come.

He asked directly:

“Attack Yan?”

“Brother, the Yan are now committing the strength of their whole country against Chu. This is Great Qian’s perfect opportunity to march north. If Chu is broken, Great Qian will...”

Ever since the Three Jin lands were destroyed, Qian and Chu had become allies, supporting one another against Yan.

Zhong Wendao slowly shook his head.

“No.”

“Brother, why?”

“The Yan are powerful, but their strength cannot last forever. The Chu are not weak meat. Destroying Chu will be difficult. Great Qian should continue drilling troops and preparing for war. Continue preparing. Little brother, I know what you want. But I, I can no longer go on campaign.”

“Brother, but this northern expedition must...”

Zhong Wendao smiled again.

“My body cannot hold out. If we force a northern expedition anyway, little brother, are you thinking that when the time comes, you will take my place and hold up the whole situation?”

If Great Qian launched a northern expedition, Zhong Wendao would inevitably be appointed supreme commander.

The Western Army would become the center.

The armies of the Three Frontiers and all the guest forces would form left and right wings beneath his orders.

Once Zhong Wendao’s body could no longer continue, the position of supreme commander would naturally slide into Zhong Wenmian’s hands.

Zhong Tianlang was certainly a rising general star.

But he was too young.

He could not command universal obedience.

“Brother, His Majesty also intends to march north. The generals of every route want to march north too. Brother can rest assured. Even if the Yan transfer the troops of Beifeng Commandery south, our army can respond calmly and advance camp by camp. We can still defeat them! I refuse to believe Yan can support two wars at the same time!”

“You...”

“Brother.”

“You do not have the ability.”

“...” Zhong Wenmian.

“If Great Qian does not move, then we do not lose. Once we move, we may suffer a catastrophic defeat. The army’s heart has not been properly unified. Logistics are not fully prepared. Command relationships have not been straightened out. Even if I personally took command, I would only preserve obedience on the surface. Their mouths might obey while their hearts did not. Wait. We can wait. We truly can keep waiting.”

“Wait until when?” Zhong Wenmian’s voice rose.

He could not understand his elder brother’s decision at all.

It felt completely unreasonable.

Yao Zizhan once wrote a rhapsody saying that throughout history, advocating war was easy.

Everyone understood that calls for war earned a man a good reputation.

Avoiding war and seeking peace brought abuse whether the policy succeeded or failed.

So not everyone who advocated war was loyal and virtuous.

And among those who avoided war or sought peace, there were also men carrying unbearable burdens and painstaking intentions.

Many believed Yao Zizhan’s rhapsody had been nothing more than an official essay written to wipe Great Qian’s backside after a century of “bowing and scraping” before Yan.

Yet there was an unavoidable truth inside it.

Zhong Wendao struggled upright.

“Wait until Yan exhausts its national strength! Wait until the Emperor of Yan dies!”

“Brother, how can a commander place his hopes on things like that?”

Zhong Wendao sneered.

“We cannot beat them.”

“You...”

“If we force another war, we will merely repeat what happened a hundred years ago. If the Tattooed-Face Chancellor were still alive, if Great Qian possessed someone like Yan’s two northern and southern Marquises, someone capable of gathering the entire army’s heart beneath one command, then I, I, Zhong Wendao, would be the first to hold his horse, the first to ask for battle!”

After forcing out those words, Zhong Wendao broke into another violent coughing fit.

The elderly woman waiting outside immediately came in and began soothing his back.

Only after the coughing eased slightly did Zhong Wendao speak again, voice suddenly severe.

“Little brother, you took the Xishan Camp. I do not blame you. Every man has his own ambition. I understand. But do not even dream of using my name to take command of a northern expedition. I must answer for the lives of the hundreds of thousands of Great Qian’s frontier soldiers! Little brother, you do not have that ability. Do not ruin the state and destroy the people!”

Zhong Wendao slapped the bed hard and glared furiously at Zhong Wenmian.

Zhong Wenmian was angry enough to burn.

But seeing his elder brother in this condition, he could not erupt.

He could only cup his hands and say:

“Brother, rest well and recover.”

With that, he swept his sleeves and left.

The elderly woman continued stroking Zhong Wendao’s back.

She said nothing.

She never involved herself in outside affairs.

Even within the household, she did not interfere with anything unrelated to Zhong Wendao’s daily routine and health.

Zhong Wendao let out a long breath.

Then lay down again and closed his eyes.

Only after confirming he had fallen asleep did the old woman carefully tuck the quilt around him.

She rose and withdrew softly.

There was a bed for her outside his chamber.

No one knew how long he slept.

Eventually, Zhong Wendao slowly opened his eyes.

He looked outside.

It was already dark.

He felt thirsty.

He wanted to call the elderly woman in to pour him some water.

But when he rolled onto his side, he fell from the bed.

It did not hurt.

Not at all.

He even stood up by himself.

Then he walked to the tea table, poured himself two cups of tea, and drank them both.

Afterward, he walked out of the bedchamber.

The moment he emerged, he saw the elderly woman entering with a bowl of porridge.

“Master! Master!”

She hurried forward and supported him.

She had no idea why Zhong Wendao had suddenly gotten up.

“The room... feels stifling. Take me outside. Let me walk.”

“Master, the wind outside is strong.”

“Listen to me.”

“Yes, Master.”

The elderly woman immediately ordered a sedan chair prepared.

The personal guards throughout the yamen were soon alarmed.

When they saw Zhong Wendao walking before them, every face brightened with smiles.

Their Old Lord Zhong’s illness seemed to have improved enormously.

Only the elderly woman, after helping him into the sedan chair, quietly wiped away tears.

The sedan was lifted.

At Zhong Wendao’s order, it traveled to Mianzhou City’s northern wall.

Zhong Wendao stepped down.

He turned toward the personal guards who had carried him and laughed.

“Heh. When I was young, I truly never imagined I would sit in a sedan one day. Back then I always wondered: once people die, they all have to go into coffins. Why did those civil officials love crawling into one ahead of time to try it out? Were they really that impatient?”

“Hahahahahaha!”

The guards burst out laughing.

Mocking civil officials was itself something of a tradition in Great Qian’s army.

Zhong Wendao climbed the steps toward the wall.

He waved, telling his personal guards not to follow.

He wanted to feel the wind alone.

It was summer.

The night wind was not cold.

Instead, it carried a refreshing and pleasant coolness.

Only when Zhong Wendao climbed the final step did he begin to pant.

Sweat appeared across his forehead.

He raised a hand and wiped it away.

He had not sweated in a very long time.

Instinctively, he reached toward the battlement to support himself.

Then he noticed someone sitting there.

The man was holding a roasted chicken and eating with enormous appetite.

Zhong Wendao became hungry.

He walked over.

He wanted some too.

The man looked young, perhaps in his thirties.

When he saw Zhong Wendao, he showed no fear whatsoever.

Instead, he asked:

“Want some?”

Zhong Wendao nodded.

Like a child, he reached toward the roasted chicken.

“Did you wash your claws?”

Zhong Wendao shook his head.

“Then you get none. I told you long ago. The southwest is full of miasma and poisonous insects, and the rain is heavy. Military camps must be kept clean. Otherwise people become sick easily, and once sickness starts, it spreads through the whole camp. Wendao, Wendao, I told you this so many times. Why did you never take it to heart?”

“My hands... are clean.”

Zhong Wendao answered:

“I just... just came from home. They aren’t dirty.”

Then he added:

“I followed your orders. Afterward, the Western Army’s camps always paid great attention to cleanliness.”

“Then I reward you with a chicken leg.”

The man tore off one leg and handed it over.

Zhong Wendao accepted it.

He did not eat immediately.

He simply held the chicken leg and smiled.

“What? You’re going to save this for your little brother too? I’ve told you before. That little brother of yours is something else. Every time his elder brother gets a reward, he eats it and uses it without the slightest embarrassment. An elder brother should naturally care for his younger brother, but the younger brother must know gratitude. Otherwise, be careful you don’t raise a white-eyed wolf.”

Zhong Wendao sniffed.

Then shook his head.

He called out:

“Commander, Wendao... Wendao missed you.”

The man heard this and smiled.

He set down the roasted chicken.

“Why miss me? Don’t. I’m doing quite comfortably where I am.”

“Commander, Jin... Jin is gone.”

“Gone is gone.”

“The Yan are attacking Chu now.”

“Then let them fight.”

“If only you were still here. If you were, we could march north.”

The man burst out laughing.

He pulled aside his hair and exposed the full side of his face.

Then he pointed at the characters branded there.

“You’re counting on me? Counting on me for what? Look carefully. Look properly. I’m a damned convict soldier! At court, inside the Privy Council, even on the streets of Shangjing, I could see the contempt in the eyes of people looking at me. Wendao, this world is wrong. Truly wrong. Very wrong. Why should these sour scholars, men who know nothing but composing poetry and filling their mouths with moral essays, stand above our heads and strut around? Do they dare compose poetry to the Yan? Do they dare preach moral principles to the rebels of the southwest? They do not. They truly do not. But they dare squat over the heads of soldiers like us and shit on us. Why!”

The more the man spoke, the more agitated he became.

Zhong Wendao’s eyes grew redder as well.

His fists clenched.

He agreed loudly:

“Exactly! Why? We protect their wealth and honor. We protect their songs and dances and peaceful lives. Yet they still treat us like bandits, like lowborn trash. A pack of wine sacks and rice bags! A pack of useless parasites! A pack of bastards! A pack of damned scum! A pack of beasts!”

Below the wall, the personal guards had obeyed orders and remained downstairs.

They leaned against the stone stairway and waited silently.

“Listen. Doesn’t our commander sound like he’s cursing somebody up there?”

“Haha. Probably spent too long lying in bed and got stifled. Now that he feels better, he wants to curse a little and let it out.”

“True. It’s been so long since the Commander cursed us that I almost started missing it.”

“You cheap bastard.”

Up on the wall, Zhong Wendao cursed until he had thoroughly enjoyed himself.

Until he felt comfortable.

He looked at the man before him.

“Commander, if only you were still here. If only you had always remained. You don’t know what happened three years ago. Seventy thousand Yan. Seventy thousand! Only seventy thousand! Seventy thousand Yan soldiers were enough to march beneath Shangjing! Damn it to hell. What happened to Great Qian? Commander, if you were still here, then just as you said back then, once we pacified the southwest we would have gone north. We would have settled accounts with the Yan. We would have washed away a century of national humiliation. If only you had not left.”

The man’s emotions had already calmed.

He patted the battlement.

“Leaving was fine too. Saved me from seeing and hearing more of this foul smoke and murky air. Made things more comfortable inside my own heart.”

“Yes. Your heart is comfortable now. But what about me? What about me?”

“Wendao, you’ve suffered.”

“I haven’t. I deserved it. Who told me that back then, when you were imprisoned in Shangjing, I stopped the brothers beneath us from carrying out their petition for a military remonstrance? I deserved this. I did. Damn it. I deserved it!”

“Wendao, I never blamed you.”

“But Commander, I could never cross that hurdle inside my own heart!”

“Whether you cross it or not, does it matter? It doesn’t.”

The man turned and faced south.

“What a pity. I never drank enough Peach Blossom Wine.”

“Commander, my little brother Wenmian wants to lead an army north.”

“Heh-heh-heh. Hahahahahaha!”

The man seemed to hear the funniest thing in the world.

He doubled over laughing until he nearly ran out of breath.

“Heh. Hahahaha...”

Zhong Wendao laughed with him.

The man cursed between laughs:

“Who the hell does Zhong Wenmian think he is? A spoiled wastrel who climbed up on the shade left by an elder brother like you. He was lucky enough not to run into any real great war, and now he thinks his ability reaches the heavens?”

...

At that moment, after learning his elder brother had gotten out of bed, looked much better, and taken a sedan to the walls for some air, Zhong Wenmian hurried over on horseback.

He had not yet left Mianzhou City.

He had been drinking with several senior generals under his elder brother.

“Greetings, Second Master!”

“Greetings, Second Master!”

Zhong Wendao’s personal guards saluted him beneath the wall.

Zhong Wenmian nodded.

He dismounted and prepared to climb the stairs.

Then a voice drifted down from above:

“Who the hell does Zhong Wenmian think he is? A spoiled wastrel who climbed up on the shade left by an elder brother like you...”

“...” Zhong Wenmian.

His face turned red, then white.

He could not decide whether to continue upward or retreat.

His eyes involuntarily swept toward the surrounding guards.

Every guard lowered his head at the same time and pretended he had heard nothing.

...

Up on the wall, the man punched the battlement.

“Yes. Some people always think reading a few military books means they understand how to fight wars. They think if they pile enough troops together, the battle will simply be won. But wars are not fought that way. They truly are not. Wendao, this is partly your fault too. After I left, why didn’t you improve?”

“Commander, Wendao’s ability only reaches this far. I have already spent everything I had just keeping the whole structure from collapsing.”

“Great Qian possesses mountains and rivers beautiful as a painting, vast lands and abundant resources, and gathers talented men beneath Heaven. What, apart from you, Zhong Wendao, this old bastard who refuses to die, have no other capable men appeared in all these years?”

“My youngest son, Zhong Tianlang, is not bad,” Zhong Wendao said with a smile, like a child deliberately showing off before the man.

“Compared with Yan’s Count Pingye?”

Zhong Wendao stopped smiling.

He shook his head.

“Not as good.”

Then, Zhong Wendao suddenly realized something.

He asked:

“Commander, how do you know about him? I haven’t even told you yet.”

The man pointed at his own nose and deliberately leaned his face close to Zhong Wendao.

“Who do you think I am?”

“You are... the Commander.”

“Oh.”

The man shook his head.

“No. I am not the Commander.”

“You are. Exactly the same.”

“Heh. You actually know who I am.”

The brightness in Zhong Wendao’s eyes slowly dimmed after hearing those words.

“Commander, His Majesty wants to march north.”

“You said that already.”

“We will lose. We truly will lose. A hundred years ago, it was the Marquis of Zhenbei. A hundred years later, we may still run into the Marquis of Zhenbei. Heh. Everyone says the Marquis of Zhenbei Residence suppressed the desert for Yan for a hundred years. But in truth, it also suppressed Great Qian for a hundred years. A hundred years. Commander, I know what they are thinking. They think that once Great Qian marches north, the desert Barbarians will certainly move too. When that happens, if Yan’s Marquis of Zhenbei Residence marches south, Yan’s western gate will be left completely open. If it does not march south, then Yan will be caught between Great Qian and the Barbarians. But... but... the Barbarians are not stupid. I simply do not understand why every one of them is so absolutely certain the Barbarians will send troops. Did the Barbarians send troops last time? No. This time, they will not send troops either.”

The man asked:

“Wendao, why are you so certain?”

“Commander, you have not grown old. But I have. That Barbarian King has grown old too. And because I am old, I understand more and more clearly what that Barbarian King is thinking. The Barbarians stopped being the people who answered one call beneath the Royal Court’s banner a century ago. They stopped being that long ago. That Emperor of Yan loves gambling more than anyone. But he is still an Emperor. I can feel one of his eyes fixed on Great Qian. No. He has always been watching us. He has never looked away for even an instant! He... He may even be waiting for Great Qian to march north. He is waiting. He wants all of us to go mad while he is still alive. All of us together. Go mad together. Finish our madness together. I do not know what gives that Emperor of Yan such confidence. But I am not wrong. I will not be wrong. I truly will not. When all of us believe he is an Emperor, he behaves like a gambler. But when we decide he is only a gambler, he will show us what a true Emperor actually is. Last time, everyone beneath Heaven believed Yan would attack Qian. Then Yan suddenly entered Jin. This time, everyone believes Yan is attacking Chu. What comes next? Who can possibly know? The elite armies of Great Qian’s Three Frontiers, relying on their walls, are absolutely the Yan army’s nightmare. But if we repeat the defeat from a hundred years ago, then with nothing left but these broken walls and cold stones, who will they stop? Give us another ten years. No. Only five. With Great Qian’s wealth, with our manpower and resources, with His Majesty and the ministers now awakened and willing to rise, Great Qian can sweep away a century of rot and stand again.”

The man asked:

“But they still want to fight. They think refusing to fight means throwing away a heaven-sent opportunity. They think refusing means becoming fools mocked by the history books.”

“Yes.”

“Can you stop them from fighting?”

Zhong Wendao fell silent.

A long time passed.

Then he nodded.

A smile appeared again.

“I can.”

...

“Great Qian must march north now. First, it will relieve Chu. If the lips perish, the teeth grow cold. If Great Qian merely watches the fire from across the river and allows Chu to be destroyed, then Great Qian will be completely isolated in the East. At that time, the Yan will already have destroyed two states. Carrying that momentum into an attack against Great Qian, our state will be in mortal danger. Second, Yan’s manpower and material resources are now concentrated on the campaign against Chu. Their homeland must be empty. Once our great army marches north, the Barbarians will certainly answer as well. Yan will immediately be caught between two enemies. This is an opportunity that comes only once in a thousand years!”

Inside the classroom, Yao Zizhan listened to the argument from one of his students, a son of the Li military family of Wei Circuit, and nodded with satisfaction.

Most of his students came from military families of the Three Frontiers.

They inevitably carried some habits of spoiled young masters, but on the whole, they still possessed the spirit of their households.

“Not bad. Very good. Who else wants to speak? If you argue well, your teacher will write your words into a memorial and let His Majesty see them. Let His Majesty understand that the sons of Great Qian’s frontier military families are no empty reputation.”

At that moment, a student sitting in the very back stood.

His surname was Shi.

His name was Shi Kai.

His father was Transport Commissioner of Chen Circuit.

Strictly speaking, he came from a civil official’s family rather than a military house.

“Shi Kai. Come. Speak.”

“Yes, Teacher.”

Shi Kai saluted Yao Zizhan respectfully.

Then he turned toward Li Chengmi, who had spoken earlier.

“Brother Li, if I heard correctly, you said this is an opportunity Great Qian may encounter only once in a thousand years?”

“Yes.”

Li Chengmi nodded.

Having just earned Teacher Yao’s approval, he looked somewhat pleased with himself.

“Does Brother Shi disagree?”

Shi Kai nodded as well.

“I do. This one is untalented, but I believe Brother Li’s words are wrong.”

“Oh? Then please instruct me.”

“A hundred years ago, there was an opportunity even better than the one before us now.”

“...” Li Chengmi.

“...” Yao Zizhan.

Every person in the classroom froze.

If the present moment was an opportunity that came only once in a thousand years, then what should they call the opportunity a hundred years ago, when the Yan and the desert Barbarians had been fighting so fiercely that brains were practically spraying across the sand?

And those Barbarians had been at their peak.

The Royal Court.

The Golden Clan.

They still ruled the desert as supreme masters!

Li Chengmi’s face went crimson.

He pointed at Shi Kai.

“You... How dare you... How can you...”

Shi Kai stopped looking at Li Chengmi.

Instead, he saluted Teacher Yao again.

“Teacher recently taught us the words of the sages. You taught us to establish ourselves upon righteousness. This student has always remembered your instruction and often turns it over in his heart after class. Yet there is one matter this student cannot understand. I ask Teacher Yao to resolve my confusion.”

“Speak freely.”

Yao Zizhan stroked his beard and smiled.

“Teacher taught us that Xia and barbarian must be clearly distinguished, and that the *Spring and Autumn* preserves righteousness. Then may this student ask Teacher something? As Brother Li said earlier, if Great Qian marches north, why must we actually hope the Barbarians help us? Everyone knows that eight hundred years ago, the Marquis of Yan carried the imperial command of the Great Xia Son of Heaven to open the frontier for all the Xia peoples. Only then did Yan come into being. And when Great Qian’s Emperor Taizu founded the state, he sacrificed to Heaven atop Mount Dong and publicly declared that Great Qian’s mandate inherited the orthodox succession of Great Xia. This student is confused. If that is so, then in law and legitimacy, both Yan and Qian descend from Great Xia and belong among the states of the Xia peoples. What has any of that to do with the Barbarians? If Great Qian and Yan fight, it is like brothers fighting inside the family gates. Since when did the Barbarians become one of the Xia peoples? Brother Li spoke earlier of contacting the Barbarians and attacking Yan together. How is that different from inviting an outside bandit through your own front door?”

Every person present fell silent again.

The reason was simple.

Great Qian was a state that revered literary education.

It possessed an extraordinarily brilliant culture.

It possessed the most ornate moral essays beneath Heaven.

It proudly regarded itself as the true land of rites and ceremony, admired by ten thousand states.

But some things its ancestors had done a century ago were extremely difficult to wash clean.

A hundred years ago, while the Yan were locked in a bloody war with the Barbarians, Emperor Taizong of Qian marched north.

Yet the Marquises of Yan, Chu, and Jin had all genuinely carried Great Xia’s imperial command to open the frontier.

Qian was different.

Because the Zhao Clan’s seizure of the throne lacked proper legitimacy, a great number of literati had been mobilized to rewrite the family’s ancestral history.

They claimed that eight hundred years earlier, the Zhao ancestors had likewise been important ministers under the Great Xia Son of Heaven, holding status equal to those Three Marquises.

Everyone privately knew the truth.

The founding Emperor Taizu of the present dynasty had been the sworn younger brother of the previous dynasty’s Emperor.

He was born into a military household of Shangjing.

But official propaganda declared otherwise.

So everyone had to accept the declared version.

That meant their ancestors eight hundred years ago were supposedly one family.

Which in turn made both Taizong’s actions a century ago and the present proposal contradict their own stated legitimacy.

Yao Zizhan smiled.

“Your teacher asks you a question.”

“Teacher, please ask.”

“If your mother were gravely ill, and your neighbor possessed medicine that could save her but refused to give it to you, would you steal the medicine?”

“I would.”

“Stealing is an act despised by gentlemen.”

“But my mother’s life is greater. This student would willingly bear the infamy.”

“Exactly.”

Shi Kai opened his mouth.

He understood Teacher Yao’s meaning.

The fire was already burning their eyebrows.

If they merely sat and waited for Yan to destroy Chu, then Great Qian would be next.

If their own state was going to perish, who still had the luxury to debate grand righteousness, legitimacy, or legal principle?

Shi Kai bent deeply in salute.

“This disciple has been instructed.”

Yao Zizhan quietly let out a long breath.

He had answered the student through sophistry.

Strictly speaking, he should not have done that.

Fortunately, a servant arrived at that moment to report urgent military intelligence.

Yao Zizhan felt as though he had been pardoned.

He left the classroom immediately and hurried straight to the signing room in the front yamen.

...

Inside the signing room, a servant watched Yao Zizhan collapse into his chair and remain silent for a very long time.

Concerned, he asked:

“Master, what happened?”

Yao Zizhan looked at him.

He let out a long sigh.

Then pressed his lips together.

“Zhong Wendao suddenly fell into delirium last night. This morning, he died.”

[End of Chapter 511]