Chapter 564: Centipedes, Between Husband and Wife, The Last Breath of a Strong Bow

There was no stirring proclamation issued to the world, nor any grand mobilization where the monarch personally appointed generals. Assistant Minister of War Lu Shengxiang's departure from the capital was remarkably quiet, so much so that he traveled through the entire southern part of the capital region without a single local official seeing his face. Yet, everyone knew full well that this did not signify a political defeat for Lu Shengxiang. He had indeed lost to Lu Baijie, then also an assistant minister, in the competition for the Minister of War position. However, immediately afterward, he received an imperial decree granting him command over three prefectures and sixteen military garrisons south of the capital. Even venerable, meritorious generals like Grand General Yang Shenxing were now subject to his authority. Lu Shengxiang's entourage consisted of merely three hundred horsemen. On this semi-public, semi-covert journey southward, the court had, for the time being, deployed no imperial forces, seemingly maintaining a wait-and-see approach regarding Western Chu's stirrings.

Lu Shengxiang, dressed in plain clothes, stopped with his personal guards at Youlu Pass, but did not enter the pass city. Instead, a temporary military camp was set up outside the pass. When several hurried captains from Youlu Pass arrived upon hearing the news, the assistant minister, who was soon to be provisionally appointed a grand general according to Li Yang's laws, received them with a genial smile in his roughly constructed tent. There were no fine wines or delicacies, no singing or dancing; Minister Lu simply offered them a humble meal and sent them on their way. This, however, paradoxically reassured the captains. Everyone knew that Lu Shengxiang, who hailed from Spring Snow Pavilion in Guangling, was a "smiling tiger" – harmless when not smiling, but deadly when he did. Youlu Pass was located at the convergence of the capital's defense screen, Guangling Circuit, and Huainan Circuit. Although the captains of Youlu Pass held higher ranks and received better stipends than ordinary Li Yang military officers, they had previously been directly subordinate to Minister Gu Lu of the Ministry of War. Now, with Gu Lu's authority crumbling and effectively nonexistent, Youlu Pass was like an orphaned, weaned child. In contrast, Lu Shengxiang not only had the powerful Guangling Circuit as his "maternal home" but was also a highly favored dignitary in the court. Moreover, Lu Shengxiang had not risen to the empire's core by virtue of family legacy or inherited privilege, but largely on the back of his own distinguished military achievements during the Spring and Autumn Period. Thus, even if the Youlu Pass captains had the courage of a bear and a leopard, they would not dare to act presumptuously before Assistant Minister Lu.

Lu Shengxiang personally saw the captains off from the military camp. He then stood in an open space outside the camp with a young military officer, whom he considered his confidant, watching the dust kicked up by the receding horses scatter in the wind. Lu Shengxiang squatted, picked up a handful of soil that smelled of earth and fresh spring grass, sniffed it, and looked south, remaining silent. Many were unaware that the venerable Assistant Minister of War had once been an awkward scout who, for a misreported military situation, was almost beheaded.

"Being a scout is like learning to swim," Lu Shengxiang said softly, crushing the soil in his palm. "Once you know how, no matter how long you put it aside, if you're thrown back into the water, it's hard to drown. Guo Donghan, you know very well the combat strength of Guangling Circuit. They boast day and night about competing with Northern Liang and Yan Chi for the title of 'foremost under heaven,' but in reality, aside from the King of Guangling's tens of thousands of troops, the rest are useless. It's not fair to blame the King for creating a 'brocade pillow' (something pretty but useless); it's simply that there hasn't been a war for nearly twenty years. The old soldiers have retired to enjoy their lives, and the young ones have joined the military to enjoy theirs. How can they possibly contend with the Northern Liang cavalry and Yan Chi infantry, who constantly sleep on their arms, ready for battle? Spring Snow Pavilion racked its brains to get the latest weapons and best armor from the court, even daring to snatch the warhorses Gu Jiantang wanted. What I worry about now is not what those so-called insightful people in and out of court believe—they think the biggest hidden danger is that old generals like Yang Shenxing and Yan Zhenchun will defy discipline, ignore orders, and fight independently. I only fear that Western Chu, initially short on troops, will gain momentum with every battle, growing like a snowball, not only wiping out Guangling Circuit's so-called elite soldiers and good generals but also acquiring their weapons, warhorses, and even their morale. In a place like Guangling Circuit, the Western Chu remnants have every advantage in terms of geography and popular support. From late last year to this spring, news of military officers and captains dying suddenly has constantly come from the Ministry of War and the court. Without exception, these people were thorns in the side of the court, embedded in Guangling Circuit, and in the end, they all died inexplicably: some were strangled in bed by their concubines, some poisoned by maids while drinking, some stabbed by retainers during meetings, some hacked to death during patrols. Even old man Huan, who had always been relatively cordial with Gu Lu, flew into a rage, stormed into the Ministry of War, pointed at me and Lu Baijie, and cursed us vehemently, eventually even including Grand General Gu. He cursed us, saying the entire Ministry of War was a bunch of drunkards and gluttons, and that the northern border of Guangling Circuit was utterly mismanaged. The military officials sent there for twenty years were only concerned with lining their pockets, and not one of them was a military man who gained any popular support. He even said that the heads of the intelligence agencies specially set up by the court for Guangling Circuit should all be executed. Our Minister Lu was quite tough, talking back to old man Huan on the spot and almost getting kicked by him. What could I say? I could only watch. But I really didn't expect old man Huan, at his age, to almost kick the Minister's chest. It seems he'll live for many more years, which is a great thing."

Lu Shengxiang returned the soil to the ground. After a brief smile, his expression grew solemn again. "Before even a single battle, they are already thinking about how to celebrate and claim rewards, how to divide military merits. I don't know where their arrogance comes from."

The young general, Guo Donghan, who had a simple and honest appearance, stood beside Assistant Minister Lu and chuckled, "The Human Butcher is dead, but the court still has Gu Jiantang, one of the last of the Four Renowned Generals of the Spring and Autumn Period, and military geniuses like Chen Zhibao and you, General. How can they not be confident? Plus, several major feudal lords are in the midst of suppression, and Guangling Circuit already has Zhao Yi, who commands a mighty army, maintaining order. If I didn't know the true strength of Guangling's elite, I would think the same way."

Lu Shengxiang merely smiled, patted the ground with his hand, and sighed, "Waves rise from gentle ripples, and wind begins at the tip of a duckweed. Once the Awakening of Insects passes, all creatures emerge, stirring with the wind."

Guo Donghan sniffed the fresh breeze that brushed his face and chuckled, "This subordinate smells blood."

Lu Shengxiang stood up, seemingly wanting to spit out all the pent-up frustration and indignation in his heart, forcing a smile. "Yang Shenxing and the others believe that in three to six months, they can easily crush Western Chu, this lingering 'spring worm' that seems dead but isn't, by summer or autumn. Whatever I advise now, they won't listen. It's better to let them charge ahead and get slapped by Cao Changqing; only when they feel the pain will they understand who truly has the authority to command this prolonged war. However, there are drawbacks to this. My inaction for six months is destined to be criticized by the censors in the capital, like a hundred barking dogs. Perhaps some unyielding officials will even use their deaths to discredit me. I personally witnessed Xu Xiao's situation back then, so I have some experience this time. The key is whether His Majesty the Emperor has enough patience. If luck is bad, you can pack your bags and prepare to atone for your mistakes with me in Liangliao. But if luck is good, the military merits you earn, as long as my Lu family's light cavalry can fully demonstrate their capabilities, will easily allow you to become a general with substantial power, a third-rank official."

Guo Donghan grinned. "Understood! Anyway, this subordinate has decided one thing in this life: follow the general, and there will always be meat to eat!"

Lu Shengxiang made no comment.

Guo Donghan suddenly asked cautiously, "I heard that His Royal Highness the Crown Prince's southern trip was quite leisurely, visiting many places including Longhu Mountain and Difu Mountain. In Guangling Circuit and Jiangnan Circuit, he widely befriended eminent scholars and poets, engaging in literary exchanges. The court and common people alike praise him profusely, saying, 'Tsk, tsk, he truly has the demeanor of a Crown Prince!' And there are even rumors that His Highness does not approve of heavy taxes in Guangling Circuit and has voiced subtle objections to the suppression of Buddhism. The Imperial Academy privately says that His Highness already shows signs of a benevolent ruler. That Vice Rector Jin, whose surname is Jin, seems to be quite close to His Royal Highness. This fellow was originally at odds with Yao Baifeng, and then expelled from the circle by the Grand Secretary and old man Huan, leading a miserable life. Many scholars were even afraid to go to Jin's residence to drink. No one expected him to make a comeback."

Lu Shengxiang frowned. "You are a military man who has yet to achieve fame and success. Don't even think about interfering in court affairs; you can't even open your mouth. If I hear such preposterous talk again, you'll be sent to work as a stablehand."

Guo Donghan said with a bitter face, "Noted."

Lu Shengxiang suddenly sneered and said in a low voice, "Feminine compassion, focusing on the superficial rather than the practical. He's light-years behind his father. If the court succeeds in curtailing the feudal lords, he might just barely manage. Otherwise, if the empire is hastily handed over to him, I'd say it's precarious."

The impetuous Guo Donghan quickly nodded and said, "That's what I said! His Royal Highness the Crown Prince is indeed shrewd, but he uses it in the wrong way."

Lu Shengxiang, true to his nature as a "smiling tiger," said with a fake smile, "Since there won't be any major battles for six months, you can go be a stablehand for half a year."

Guo Donghan looked stunned. Just as he was about to throw a tantrum, Lu Shengxiang had already turned and walked towards the military camp.

When His Royal Highness the Crown Prince "secretly" slipped out of the capital for a "tour" of the south, Zhao Zhi, the most powerful and dignified Empress Dowager in the land, visited the East Palace more frequently. She didn't discuss grand affairs, but merely chatted about household trivia with Yan Dongwu, the most esteemed Daughter-in-law in the realm. Empress Dowager Zhao Zhi presided over the inner palace, a model of virtue for all under heaven. One by one, the concubines vying for favor came and went, each fading into obscurity. Regardless of their youth, beauty, talent, or formidable family backgrounds, none could rival this woman, whose appearance was not particularly striking. Furthermore, Empress Zhao Zhi seemed to have garnered unanimous praise in the eyes, words, and hearts of all court officials, with very few dissenting voices. Today, within the East Palace, besides the Empress, even Emperor Zhao himself, amidst his busy schedule, found time to join Zhao Zhi in visiting Yan Dongwu. He even specially instructed Song Tanglu, the Director of the Directorate of Ceremonial, to bring several pots of authentic Northern Liang Green Ant Wine. The family of three indulged in minimal formalities, simply boiling and savoring the wine to warm their hearts. Their drinking spot was beneath an intricately carved redwood birdcage, which housed a clumsy, dull parrot that awkwardly mimicked human speech. For some unknown reason, this parrot had found favor with the Crown Princess and remained deeply cherished.

Women were forbidden from interfering in politics; this was an ironclad rule passed down through generations of the Li Yang dynasty. Thus, before Li Yang unified the Spring and Autumn Period, no matter how much the feudal lords and eunuchs harmed the Zhao clan, since no "pillow talk" could sway the emperor, there was no fertile ground for foreign relatives to meddle in governance. While there were indeed instances of foreign relatives holding power in the Zhao court throughout history, it was far less problematic compared to the various lesser courts of other surnames outside Li Yang.

However, Emperor Zhao clearly held Yan Dongwu, his daughter-in-law who was listed as a "female scholar" and ranked highly in the Rouge Review, in exceptionally high regard. He made an exception, discussing some military and state affairs with her, which caused even Zhao Zhi to show undisguised surprise. This astonishment lingered until the imperial couple left the East Palace. The Emperor did not rush back to attend to the mountains of memorials that accumulated year-round. Instead, he walked alongside the Empress Dowager beneath a tall, vermilion wall, his hands clasped behind his back, silently gazing at the azure sky. Song Tanglu, the chief eunuch who inherited the power of Mao Han Shengxuan, followed a distance behind, bowing. This imposing chief eunuch, who did not resemble a eunuch in appearance, had a faint shadow of gloom between his brows.

The Emperor Zhao suddenly stopped and said, "At thirty, a man 'establishes himself.' I accomplished both family and career back then. I married you, and I ruled the world. For myself, I have no major regrets in this life. At forty, I reached 'no perplexity.' I consistently overcame all objections, entrusting state power to Zhang Julu, allowing him and Gu Jiantang to jointly govern Liangliao, tolerating the factions of Zhang and Gu right under my nose. I never doubted the loyalty and capability of these two parties. In my view, 'trusting those you employ' is the 'no perplexity' an emperor should possess. Of course, they did not disappoint me. My Zhao family has achieved unprecedented prosperity in eight centuries, possessing vast territories comparable to the Great Qin, having valiant and skilled military officials, and civil officials who could govern and aid the world. Any one of these many important court officials and renowned ministers, if brought forth, would be enough to extend the lifespan of fallen states like Northern Han or Eastern Yue. Yet, under my single authority, both civil and military talents shine brightly, gathered in one court. Therefore, every year when I offer sacrifices to my ancestors, my conscience is clear. Now I am fifty, reaching the age Zhang's sage called 'knowing the Mandate of Heaven.' For some reason, after twenty years of diligent and conscientious rule, personally witnessing the flourishing of state affairs, I feel a sense of unease. They all say that emperors rule by Heaven's mandate, but I always feel that the saying 'knowing the Mandate of Heaven' contradicts this. My change of reign title to Xiangfu also stems from this; it is my hope not to personally ruin what I have built over twenty years."

From beginning to end, Emperor Zhao referred to himself as "I" (我), like the head of an ordinary common household, rather than the imperial "朕" (Zhen) that all ambitious figures throughout chaotic eras had yearned for.

Emperor Zhao stretched out his hand, sweeping his palm across the cold, high wall, and suddenly smiled. "That year, persuaded by Yuan Benxi, I presumptuously led troops into the palace. I walked this very path beneath my feet. At that time, I was actually very afraid, with only one thought in my mind: if I succeeded, I would be the first to bring you good news; if not, you would simply observe mourning for me. Back then, I was merely a prince. The reason I wanted to be emperor was to defeat Xu Xiao, so that you wouldn't have to envy that sword immortal woman named Wu. Men, who doesn't care about face? Regarding Xu Xiao, I don't deny that personal enmity came first, national enmity second. When that butcher was young, he could sit and drink with the late emperor in Wuying Hall, getting drunk until dawn, while I, his son, could only watch from afar, envious. How I wished I could have gone to the frontier to point my whip towards Northern Mang! But I truly handled that matter poorly. The several major battles fought without Northern Liang's involvement depleted the national treasury and ignited public resentment. If Yuan Benxi hadn't reprimanded me awake, let alone Zhuan'er becoming Crown Prince, whether I could have become emperor at all would have been questionable. Speaking of which, I know that woman named Wu is like you; deep down, you don't actually like her, because you both possess great ambition. Zhuan'er is too clever; he knows everything but says nothing. Clever people tend to overthink. I was fortunate, after all, to have Yuan Benxi, a strategist clumsy with words yet as if possessed by a divine spirit, who seemed to have an all-seeing eye, watching over Tai'an City and the entire realm for me. But you know better than anyone my physical condition. After I am gone, and Yuan Benxi is gone too, who will suppress Zhang and Gu? This time, the white-robed monk whom I deeply admire came to the capital. He said his new calendar could guarantee the Zhao dynasty an extra eighty years of reign, but at a huge cost for eighty years of peace and prosperity for the world. I refused without hesitation; at that moment, I didn't even dare to look Yuan Benxi in the eye. It is precisely because of this that I am uneasy about the two factions of officials led by Zhang and Gu, because most of those behind them, such as Zhao Youling and Yin Maochun, come from humble scholar backgrounds. Their vision will involuntarily focus more on matters outside the court. This trend must be suppressed. Many famous officials in the past who didn't hesitate to confront the monarch to the death merely used their deaths to express their resolve, hoping to gain eternal fame by standing on the emperor's shoulders. I can tolerate, even condone, the narrow-mindedness of these scholars, which has remained unchanged for a thousand years. But officials like Yin Maochun are different. Perhaps inspired by Zhang Julu's exemplary achievements, they suddenly became shrewd, more sophisticated, and better at achieving their ambitions. Their methods are skilled; they achieve both reputation and merit, neither acting as the emperor's performers nor as foolishly loyal officials who would readily carry their coffins to their deaths. One or two such pillars in the Li Yang court are fine, but if all are like this, each cunning and deceitful, how will Zhuan'er cope in the future? Zhuan'er is not like me, who ascended the throne through a bloody usurpation. Although that blood has long since been washed away by the palace's rain and snow, it remains in the hearts of Zhang Julu and the others. But Zhuan'er, from an early age, knew he would wear the dragon robe and sit on the dragon throne. He is indeed patient, but being an emperor still requires boldness. Zhuan'er is currently misguided, thinking that by opposing me—when I suppress Buddhism, he welcomes eminent monks in Jiangnan; when I want to crush Western Chu with an iron fist, he pleads for the common people—he is demonstrating his boldness as Crown Prince. If my Zhao family's empire had no internal or external troubles, no Northern Mang, no Northern Liang, and no people like Zhang Julu, then it would be fine; his intentions would not be bad. But now is not the time!"

Zhao Zhi's face turned pale.

Emperor Zhao clenched his fist and lightly struck the wall. "Zhuan'er doesn't see the future of the court. It won't be factional disputes; it will be a more complex situation. It will be a struggle for the hearts of the people between powerful aristocratic families and humble scholars, no longer solely revolving around the dragon throne. Yuan Benxi said this is the general trend. I didn't believe it before, but now that I've witnessed it firsthand, I have no choice but to believe it. Yuan Benxi also said that the old official tricks of climbing the ladder, which had reached their peak, are no longer effective. He's waiting for someone who understands how to use 'dragon-slaying techniques' to counterbalance the emperor to emerge. Once this person appears, it will be even more terrifying than the previous feudal divisions of Li Yang. Zhao Zhi, must I simply wait? Is this what 'knowing the Mandate of Heaven' means? Therefore, even if Yuan Benxi cannot find this person, even if I cannot see this person, I must first deal with Zhang Julu, who opened the 'dragon gate' for humble scholars across the land... Since the gate is already open and the trend is set, I am unwilling to go against the tide. But as the reigning emperor, taking down a Zhang Julu who is right here in the capital, to give Zhuan'er a better chance of success, surely won't be harder than dealing with Xu Xiao, who was far away in Northern Liang back then, will it?"

Zhao Zhi's lips trembled as she asked, "When?"

Emperor Zhao took a deep breath, his expression grim. "When the Western Chu remnants are all dead!"

A young man, chewing on a blade of grass, looked at the expanse of yellow clay jars, feeling a little depressed amidst them. He glanced at the handsome man beside him, Nalan Youci, who wore a yellow coronet and a flowing black robe. It was quite unexpected; the pathologically meticulous Nalan Youci was covered in much yellow mud, yet showed no hint of displeasure. Instead, he reached out and pinched off a piece of still-wet mud, gently crumbling it between his fingers. Beside them, apart from countless clay jars, each reportedly worth three taels of silver, sat an old man on a small wooden stool, molding jar blanks from mud. He was covered in mud. Seeing Zhao Zhu and Nalan Youci, who had traveled thousands of miles specifically to see him, he made no sound, clearly determined to finish his work. The bored young man raised his eyes and looked at an elderly couple standing in the distance. Nalan Youci said one was a remnant of the Southern Tang imperial family, and the other a local, a true commoner who had spent his life working with clay jars. Nalan Youci even asked him to guess who was the master spy and who was the ordinary person. Zhao Zhu, relying on intuition, speculated that the old woman, whose former elegance was still faintly discernible, must be the former Southern Tang royalty. As for the simple-looking old man beside her, he did not seem like a top master capable of evading Zhao Gou's searches.

Nalan Youci, known as the true feudal lord of the Southern Border, walked a few steps closer and squatted by the old man's stool. With a genial smile, he looked up at the only remaining demon of the Spring and Autumn Period in the world and said with a chuckle, "Well, Old Farmer Huang, you look unbelievably well! Could it be a final burst of energy before death?"

The old man glanced at Nalan Youci and said flatly, "Wishing me dead? Is that how you ask for a favor?"

Nalan Youci, with a gentle and beautiful demeanor, still smiled. "I'm practically squatting, almost kneeling! What more do you want? Besides my parents, I, Nalan Youci, have never knelt before anyone in my life."

The old man sneered, "Do you want me to expose your secrets in front of that little bastard Zhao Zhu?"

Zhao Zhu rolled his eyes.

Nalan Youci quickly waved his hand in a gesture of surrender. "I'm afraid of you, Huang Sanjia, who knows everything. Consider my bragging busted; please, old man, mind your words."

It was Huang Longshi, who had monopolized three of the "Thirteen Jia" titles of the Spring and Autumn Period, who sneered, "You came too early; it's not the right time. Was it your idea or that little bastard's?"

Nalan Youci thought very carefully. "Both. We have to keep up appearances. We're not here to fish in troubled waters; we just came to witness Cao Changqing's final moves. If we missed that, what's the point of living?"

Huang Longshi sneered, "If living is pointless, why don't you die? You only disgust people; no wonder you could never compare to Li Yishan."

Nalan Youci shook his head and smiled. "It's hard to say who's stronger, me or Li Yishan. Your word doesn't count."

Huang Longshi gave a strange, mocking look. "Do you have to go to the underworld and hear him tell you personally for it to count?"

Nalan Youci reached up and touched his brow, expressionless.

Huang Longshi waved his hand, intentionally or unintentionally splattering several drops of yellow mud onto Nalan Youci's face. "Go cool yourself down over there. I have a few words to say to the little rascal I've taken a fancy to."

Nalan Youci gently wiped away the mud stains, stood up, and beckoned to Zhao Zhu. This elegant strategist, who possessed two "Jia" titles from the Spring and Autumn Period—only one fewer than Huang Longshi—slowly walked away.

Huang Longshi squinted at His Royal Highness Prince Zhao Zhu, who stood casually before him. "Who do you think you are, Zhao Zhu? When I met your father, he had to respectfully sweep the ground to welcome me. Squat down."

Zhao Zhu, with a playful grin, simply sat down on his backside. "I won't listen to you, but isn't this polite enough?"

Huang Longshi said in a teasing tone, "Quite similar to someone's personality. Alright, I have my answer. You can get lost."

Zhao Zhu stared. "What? Mr. Huang, I risked losing my hereditary title to come see you, and you just play games with me?"

Huang Longshi returned his stare. "Are you leaving or not?"

Zhao Zhu, with a contorted expression like someone painfully constipated, reluctantly stood up. Just as he was about to turn, he heard Huang Longshi snicker, "Want to fart? You'll need to take off your pants first, or weigh the consequences."

Zhao Zhu muttered something, then, with a swift movement, he dashed to Nalan Youci's side and curiously asked, "Can that old man really foresee the future?"

Nalan Youci, standing at the edge of the pile of clay jars, glanced towards Huang Sanjia. He calmly said, "I don't believe it, but he has almost always done it."

Zhao Zhu uttered an "Oh."

Nalan Youci habitually pinched the Prince of Yan Chi's earlobe and softly chuckled, "It's alright. He's not a true immortal, after all. He's at the end of his tether, a dying man; why get upset with him? Let's just treat it as showing respect to the elderly."

Zhao Zhu looked helpless and gently brushed away Nalan Youci's slender, feminine hand.

Huang Longshi suddenly stood up and delivered a most ominous prophecy to Nalan Youci: "Nalan Youci, you will die before Yuan Benxi and I do."

Zhao Zhu's face changed drastically, while Nalan Youci remained silent.

Nalan Youci closed his eyes, falling into deep thought, then bowed towards Huang Longshi, who had already returned to his stool and was out of sight.

It was a bow of respect: to Huang Longshi, to himself, and to Li Yishan, with whom he had traveled and studied across many states, and whom he had once admired. It was also a bow to them, and to the end of the Spring and Autumn Period itself.