Chapter 533: South

A simple carriage slowly made its way south, first visiting the three military towns of Junziguan, Maolong, and Ligu, all located outside Wazhu Military Town. Last year, the Southern Dynasty's border was engulfed in war, as Beiliang's cavalry crushed all resistance with irresistible force. Surprisingly, they did not occupy the military towns afterward to push the border north and resist Beimang. Instead, they plundered all wealth and craftsmen before leaving, not even bothering to destroy the web-like network of postal roads along the border. This clearly showed no fear of Beimang's army smoothly advancing in a fit of rage. After touring the three towns, which were ravaged and filled with fearful people, the carriage's owner occasionally lifted the curtain, her face expressionless. They then turned east, heading towards Liuxia City, located at the border of Longyao and Youzhou. The city governor, Tao Qianzhi, had died suddenly while visiting his ancestors' grave last Qingming Festival, and a new governor named Yelü had taken his place.

The carriage did not enter the city but continued directly south. As they neared the Liangmang border, the carriage's owner seemed to be in good spirits. She sat behind the coachman, leaning against the thick cotton curtain, holding a pot of homemade glutinous rice wine. She took several large gulps and sang a familiar, high-pitched "Xintianyou" folk song. The vast desert stretched for thousands of miles, making the carriage appear somewhat isolated and lonely. The old woman's melody had none of the gentle, lingering quality of a young woman's song; instead, it was majestic and stirring. The coachman was an unremarkable, stout man, but his long, ape-like arm holding the whip gave his physique an absurd impression. The middle-aged man was stern and humorless. During this time, the old woman tapped his back with the wine pot; he did not turn around but simply shook his head, indicating he didn't drink. The old woman wasn't annoyed by his lack of interest. After finishing her song, she tilted her head back and gulped down a large mouthful of the rich glutinous rice wine, exuding a heroic demeanor. While such behavior might earn applause for a martial arts heroine, a white-haired old woman acting so unrestrainedly was hardly a pleasant sight to behold for others.

The old woman, probably aware of the coachman's taciturn nature and not expecting a reply, gazed at the high, clear sky and spoke to herself: "When you men gain wealth and power, you all like to keep mistresses. As for me, I have a penchant for nurturing literary giants and heroes. My ability to cultivate talents is no weaker, and perhaps even stronger, than that of the old Zhao Emperor. In civil matters, I had Xu Huainan, the Great King of the Northern Court, followed by the Imperial Mentor Taiping Ling, and a court full of venerable scholars and old officials from the south. In military affairs, I have twelve great generals, including Yang Yuanzan and Liu Gui, all of whom have distinguished themselves in battle and are under my command. In six all-out wars between opposing sides, we lost two first, then won four. If not for the surprise attack by Beiliang's 'Lame Xu' last year, who in Liyang, both court and commoner, wouldn't have feared Beimang's iron cavalry? But it's also good; with Beiliang's cavalry causing such a stir, Liyang has underestimated us, Beimang. Tai'an City quickly stripped Gu Jiantang of his position as Minister of War, and the 'Green-Eyed One's' policy of shifting taxes towards the north has finally begun to face significant overt resistance. The disunity within the central government in the capital is a good thing. I see, the new Minister of War, 'Little Butcher', has remained indifferent to this, even intentionally or unintentionally suppressing Gu Lu's military officers and allowing civil officials to make things difficult for the 'Green-Eyed One'. This might stem from a deep stratagem, perhaps even enjoying the sight of conflicts erupting along the northern border. It's not enough for him to settle the Spring and Autumn period in one war; another war will secure the entire realm. Such ambition, to put it bluntly, is a wolf's ambition. The 'White-Robed War Immortal's' thoughts and appetite are truly far greater than his adoptive father's. He truly lives up to his reputation as a 'wolf-gazing' young man. If he were in Beimang, I'd already have a headache with one ambitious Fatty Dong; with him added, how could I possibly arrange for the three of you without worrying myself to death? Oh, and Hong Jingyan, who also came from Qijian Leyuan with Taiping Ling, is quite ambitious. However, it's destined that only one of him and Dong Zhuo can rise in the Southern Dynasty. I've already granted him all the Rouran iron cavalry from the three towns of Rouxuan, Laohuai, and Wuchuan, a force not much different from what Dong Zhuo currently commands. If he still loses, he can only blame his fate for being merely a martial arts master, not possessing the 'Yellow-Purple' destiny to contend for the realm. But honestly, Fatty Dong is quite likable in his conduct. The 'blind' Hong Jingyan, on the other hand, is immediately off-putting. Tuoba, you will certainly outlive me by a long time. If that Hong dares to conspire with the imperial clan and try to become a puppet emperor behind the scenes, kill him, whether you've retired or not."

The man said flatly, "Dong Zhuo is also capable of such rebellious schemes."

The old woman chuckled heartily. "That's fine. After all, I truly like that stubborn fat man. Since I ascended the throne, he's the only one who's dared to call me 'Imperial Sister'—he's endearingly shameless. Moreover, while Dong Zhuo might be cunning and full of mischief, at the very least, he has a bottom line. Though it might be low, a bottom line exists nonetheless, and such a person isn't truly frightening. What I fear most are those whose bottom lines are erratic. Grand General Zhong Shentong, along with Murong Baoding, are precisely such treacherous types. You'd never know what 'surprises' they might spring on you, or what disgusting things they might do. If I hand Beimang over to Fatty Dong, the Murong and Yelü clans won't need to fear extinction."

The man, addressed only by his surname, fell silent again. The old woman finished the pot of glutinous rice wine, which she had indeed brewed herself, and cradling the empty pot, she sighed. "When I was young and displaced, I traveled to Liangliao in Liyang and met old Xu, who wasn't yet lame back then. It wasn't a case of love at first sight, wanting to die for him; I just found the man interesting. Later, when Xu Xiao left Liaodong and gradually reached the pinnacle, I never quite believed he could achieve such great feats. In my spare time, handling state affairs, I often wondered how he managed to rise so high. Over time, what I had clearly let go of years ago, I picked up again much later, feeling a bit unwilling to accept it. But such romantic sentiments are merely for thinking; if I were to choose again, I would still return to Beimang. If I truly had to spend my entire life with a man, dealing with household chores and mundane matters, I'd be so bored I'd want to kill someone. After the Battle of Xileibi, I even wrote to Xu Xiao, urging him to follow the prevailing trend and declare himself emperor. I would then echo him from Beimang, promising that in the future, I would advance south, and he would advance north, dividing Liyang together, just as he split that large pancake when we first met in Jinzhou, each taking half, ruling north and south. But he refused. Of course, if that day truly came, I would also go back on my word. How could we truly share power over the realm? Both women and petty men are difficult to manage, and I count as both a woman and a petty person. So, who could truly manage this world? Even if he were Xu Xiao, it would be more like *I* manage *him*!"

The old woman sighed. "For the three armies to disregard life is how chaos is quelled and order restored. You and those great generals have done well. For the common people to live anew is how peace is maintained, and they will not think of rebellion. Those old Spring and Autumn scholars in the Southern Dynasty have also done acceptably. It's a pity that the grand tide of destiny is still not with Beimang. Time waits for no one, and we must seize every moment. Don't think that just because Beimang won four major battles, Liyang has only been bruised, far from having its bones broken. With the 'Green-Eyed One' planning the overall strategy and constructing the eastern border line with Gu Jiantang, the further we go, the smaller Beimang's advantage will become. Once Liyang fully digests the Spring and Autumn territories and recuperates its strength, it will be time for them to mercilessly crush us, their neighbor. Therefore, before I die, no matter the outcome, we must fight a war, especially with Taiping Ling's return. As for whether to fight Liyang or Beiliang, I'm still undecided; both have their pros and cons. Old fellows like Helian Wuwei and Huang Songpu are all insistent on attacking Liyang first. They even cite the old Zhao Emperor, who, listening to Yuan Benxi, was willing to bleed profusely to first take down Western Chu, after which conquering Southern Tang and Western Shu became a natural and easy progression. Taiping Ling and a large group of younger generals, including Dong Zhuo, insist on first taking Beiliang, then swiftly annexing Western Shu and Southern Zhao to form an east-west standoff, which they deem more secure. However, after Chen Zhibao's potential enfeoffment in Western Shu emerged, among both the Northern and Southern courts, only Taiping Ling and Fatty Dong remained steadfast in their opinions. Many feel that facing Xu Xiao's three hundred thousand iron cavalry and Chen Zhibao defending Western Shu is too much, and it would be better to simply gain advantages on the eastern front against Gu Jiantang alone. As for me, when it comes to the stratagems of imperial harem infighting, even Zhao Zhi in Tai'an City would have to learn from me. But for matters concerning the life and death of a dynasty, it sounds ridiculous to say, but I often rely solely on a woman's intuition. Back in Jinzhou, 'Lame Xu' said that whenever he faced a difficult decision, he had an easy method: toss a coin to guess heads or tails, and let fate decide. Should I also toss a coin? Tuoba, do you have one on you right now?"

The middle-aged man likely found it absurd. This time, he didn't even bother to shake his head, remaining completely still.

The old woman, who did not refer to herself as "We" or "the Emperor" in front of him, gave a self-deprecating smile. "With your simple nature, how did you get so enraged by the Yellow River that you killed our Qilin True Man?"

The man sneered, "Deceiving with spiritual theatrics. If I wasn't in such a hurry to reach the northern ice plains, I would have killed everyone, even beyond the Imperial Preceptor Yuan Qingshan himself, along with their 'One Qi Transforms Three Purities' nonsense. That would truly put Your Majesty at ease."

The old woman dismissed it with a smile, pulling closer the old fur coat she had so painstakingly had dug out from the bottom of a chest. She said softly, "How the court should deal with the martial arts world is something Liyang learned from us, Beimang. Back then, letting Xu Xiao trample through the martial arts world was a thankless task; neither the court, nor the martial arts world, nor Xu Xiao—who was used to bearing blame and infamy—benefited from it. For an emperor with power to personally contend with martial artists lowers their prestige and damages their reputation. It is a superior strategy to have people from the martial arts world eagerly compete to serve you. However, while supporting several martial arts clans, one must also be careful not to let them become too powerful to control. A clan that produces many talents is no different from a private armory in one's backyard, and if its weapons are turned against you, it spells even greater trouble."

The coachman frowned. "What about Daozong and Qijian Leyuan, the leaders of the Beimang martial arts world?"

The old woman replied nonchalantly, "One desperately seeks immortality, the other desperately interferes in worldly affairs. Both have weaknesses and cannot stir up major trouble. Give Tuoba Pusa twenty thousand troops, and can't you handle them?"

The man nodded.

The old woman shook the wine pot. "That woman and Murong Baoding's illegitimate son, hidden within the spiderweb... if he hadn't suffered a great calamity in Liyang this time and been forced to reveal himself, I would have almost been deceived by Li Mibi. But that old man has his own difficulties, so I won't hold it against him this time. No wonder I couldn't find him even after digging three feet deep; he was hiding right under my nose. 'A Segment of Willow,' what a 'Segment of Willow'! Truly, wherever a willow branch is planted, it grows into shade, possessing the ability to be cut down but never truly eradicated."

The man, of course, had even less inclination to comment on this scandalous secret involving imperial relatives. Throughout his life, Tuoba Pusa was only interested in martial arts and leading troops. Beauties or official ranks were all dispensable external possessions to him.

The Empress of Beimang glanced at the sky and chuckled softly. "In the past, the Zhao family wished for that Xu child to die young and find rebirth quickly. But when he didn't die young, and it was confirmed that he was as stubborn as 'Lame Xu' and wouldn't defect to Beimang, now they're willing to force a smile, waiting to see the grand joke of Beiliang's three hundred thousand iron cavalry fighting until none are left. Either way, their Zhao family profits. If this child were a bit more cunning, and showed even a hint of disloyalty—that if Liyang pushed him too hard, he might defect to Beimang—he wouldn't have to endure such hardship and toil. But then again, if this child were such a 'clever' King of Beiliang, Beimang wouldn't pose much of a threat, and Chen Zhibao likely wouldn't have left Beiliang. Whether the next King of Beiliang holds the western front will determine if Chen Zhibao can settle the realm in one war. Otherwise, the Zhao family, adept at discarding those who have served their purpose, will have him as merely a pampered King of Shu with no more than thirty to forty thousand elite troops, no matter how much the current Liyang Emperor values him. To be indispensably relied upon by a ruler yet not trusted by them is not a blessing, but a monumental disaster. This Zhao Emperor is good in every way except for his narrow-mindedness, even less magnanimous than I, a woman. It serves that stubborn 'Lame Xu' right to get such a new lord; he deserves his misfortune."

Tuoba Pusa, the God of War of Beimang, spoke unreservedly and calmly, "If I were Xu Xiao, after the 'White Robe Case', I would have simply gone with the flow and rebelled."

The Empress of Beimang, still showing faint traces of her past splendor, smiled faintly. "That's why you can never become the man that I, Wu Su, and Zhao Zhi, three women, would remember with such fondness. A man's occasional childishness, his overwhelming killing intent, or his seemingly awe-inspiring spiritual aura are all merely embellishments. Only brotherhood and human warmth are truly valuable, like charcoal in winter. If a man doesn't even value basic human connection, we women won't even give him a second glance. This world is never short of clever people; only fools who are unwilling to live easily are rare. Xu Xiao is a butcher, the King of Beiliang, and also a fool. What a pity that this old fool, who always laughed foolishly while surveying the land, will soon die of old age after meeting you and me."