Chapter 57: Heavy Rain on the Path, Standing in Red Armor

**Beacon Fire Play with the Dukes**

A duckweed, plucked unexpectedly, was planted in the courtyard to serve as a banana tree. Having finally glimpsed the scenery outside the courtyard, how could one not be overjoyed? Yu Youwei rode happily, becoming addicted to it. No matter how Xu Fengnian tried to coerce or entice her, she simply refused to dismount and get into the carriage. Xu Fengnian saw that her horsemanship was mediocre, and her slender hands gripping the reins were already red. He couldn't help but feel annoyed; only someone who had experienced the Jianghu world like him would understand. Those female martial artists with striking looks might seem glamorous, but they didn't bear close inspection. After much riding, their buttocks would certainly not remain smooth and rounded, and after holding swords and knives for a long time, their calloused hands would be even more unsightly. Yu Youwei, are you planning to follow in their footsteps?

Xu Fengnian snorted coldly, placed two fingers to his lips, and blew a sharp whistle. From afar, Lu Qiu'er's painstakingly trained and tamed green-and-white luan bird broke through the dark clouds, diving straight towards the white cat Wu Meiniang in Yu Youwei's arms. The pampered large white cat, no braver than a mouse, had all its snowy fur stand on end and let out a piteous shriek. Yu Youwei's face turned pale with fright. Since the day she found this white cat and named it Wu Meiniang, it had been her only living relative. This magnificent six-year-old phoenix, the most divine bird from Liaodong, merely swooped back and forth, not harming the white cat. But Wu Meiniang was thoroughly terrified, and along with it, Yu Youwei's gaze towards Xu Fengnian was exceptionally mournful. Xu Fengnian, who had been chatting cheerfully with the old Taoist Wei Shuyang, pretended not to notice. Yu Youwei, having no other recourse, dismounted resentfully and got into the carriage to face that overly unconventional old man in a sheepskin cloak.

Shu Xiu, who had initially harbored thoughts of using her looks to entice the Crown Prince for some unexpected gains, felt a chill in her heart upon witnessing this scene. She had thought that the girl inside the carriage, despite her spirit, was still too young; a green peach's taste couldn't compare to a ripe honey peach. As for the servant girl driving the carriage, she wasn't bad-looking and had a graceful figure, but her temperament was too cold; it was clear she wasn't the type to be warm and considerate. Ultimately, only the one holding the white cat posed the most threat; her full, rounded charm, both on and off the horse, was alluring even to another woman. The Crown Prince was a seasoned philanderer. Why else would he bring this cat-loving lady along on this journey, if not for personal gratification? Since he enjoyed this type, why shouldn't she join in? A "dragon with two phoenixes" scenario. But why did the Crown Prince not seem particularly fond of her? Rumor had it that the Crown Prince would do anything extravagant for the various courtesans of Beiliang. It was only because the Grand Chancellor's family had such a vast fortune that ordinary wealthy clans and powerful families in the region couldn't afford such extravagance.

Shu Xiu's mood became somewhat dispirited. Her greatest strengths were not internal energy or assassination, but rather bedroom arts supported by disguise techniques. Given a portrait and a complete set of disguise tools, she could transform into that person within half a day, almost indistinguishable from the original. Imagine, wouldn't acquiring Shu Xiu be equivalent to possessing the faces of all beautiful women in the world? Even if the spiritual resemblance was debatable, physical resemblance of eighty to ninety percent was absolutely effortless for her. The problem was that Shu Xiu was unfamiliar with the Crown Prince and couldn't gauge his temperament or preferences. Who was the beauty he truly desired in his heart? Even with an accurate portrait, what if she overdid it? The thought of the Grand Chancellor, rumored to be haunted by hundreds of thousands of vengeful ghosts from the Spring and Autumn War, made Shu Xiu tremble with fear.

If the Grand Chancellor, who held absolute power in Liang, were gone, life would be much easier.

This disrespectful thought was fleeting, and Shu Xiu immediately regretted it so much she wanted to slap herself.

Upon entering Yongzhou territory, Xu Fengnian was, after all, not an old master from the Astronomical Bureau who could accurately predict the weather's sunny spells, cloudy days, rain, or snow. This downpour arrived earlier and more intensely than he had anticipated. So, instead of taking the official road, they took a shortcut towards their designated resting place.

The Crown Prince's impromptu change of itinerary caused a great deal of hardship for those who had enthusiastically prepared to welcome him.

In Yingchuan County, north of Yongzhou, not only were the city gates wide open, but a host of officials, from eighth to sixth rank, had traveled thirty li outside the city. They waited patiently in a pavilion for the Crown Prince's arrival. The civil officials were led by Zheng Han’hai, a fat, corpulent sexagenarian. As the Vice Director of the Books and Records Bureau in Yongzhou, he was responsible for half of the province's financial and grain accounts. He had vied for the position of Director of the Books and Records Bureau for many years, but each time he fell short due to bad luck. Several Directors of the Books and Records Bureau in Yongzhou had come and gone, yet Zheng Han’hai remained rooted in his vice-director position. This old civil official, a former Jinshi scholar, coincidentally happened to be on leave resting in his hometown of Yingchuan County. Upon being assigned such a difficult task, he had no choice but to drag his aged, ailing body out.

The military officials were led by Tang Yinshan, the Deputy Commandant of the Eastern Prohibitions, a position of 300 shi, which was not particularly distinguished. What made him formidable was that Deputy Commandant Tang commanded two hundred soldiers. In these past decades, the dynasty had seen fortunes shift; regardless of how strong the influence of civil officials became in the central court—it seemed as if the Grand Academicians and Academicians of the Four Halls had all become Jinshi scholars overnight, converging in the Four Halls, wielding immense power and influence. But that was a matter for the capital. Not to mention Beiliang, where rumors said one could hear the thud of iron hooves even in their sleep, here in Yongzhou, military generals still held sway over civil officials. Tang Yinshan's family had fallen on hard times in his early years, so he couldn't compare to the high-ranking scholars recommended by Yongzhou's powerful clans. He couldn't even bring himself to read the classics, so he abandoned scholarly pursuits for a military career. He managed to accumulate considerable merits during the conclusion of the Spring and Autumn Wars, securing the position of Deputy Commandant of the Eastern Prohibitions, a modest official post with an ordinary salary but firm military command, which was enough.

The civil and military factions were distinct, standing separately. Tang Yinshan disdained the effeminate behavior of the civil officials, whose servants each carried umbrellas for them. Zheng Han’hai, on the other hand, disliked the arrogance of these brutes who led soldiers in armor. "Now that the world is peaceful and prosperous, what use are you uneducated, boorish warriors?" he thought. "Soldiers are the nation's ominous weapon. Millions died in the Spring and Autumn Eight Kingdoms war, almost all slaughtered by you martial men who annihilated states and massacred cities. What more do you want? Governing the country's economy from the court, not the battlefield, must be done by scholars to be stable."

Zheng Han’hai gave no pleasantries to Tang Yinshan and his military officers, but he was exceedingly polite to the Yingchuan civil officials whose ranks were much lower than his own. The sexagenarian stout Zheng Han’hai, having been immersed in officialdom for most of his life, certainly knew the chilling reality of being forgotten once his brush could no longer dictate Yongzhou's finances in the future. If he didn't humble himself now to build good relationships, it would be too late by the time he retired to his hometown.

Jin Lanting, the Duke of Yingchuan County, wiped the sweat from his neck, which had been stifled out by the accursed weather, with a silk handkerchief. He smiled cautiously and asked, "Secretary Zheng, it's going to rain, and it looks like a heavy one. When will the Crown Prince arrive?"

Zheng Han’hai chuckled, "Lanting, you don't understand. Rain is good. I had a hard time securing the Crown Prince's stay at your private residence during this visit to Yingchuan. You have lotuses in your lake and banana trees in your courtyard. If it doesn't rain, how can His Highness appreciate the subtle sound of rain hitting the banana leaves at your estate? Moreover, welcoming a guest in the rain shows sincerity."

Jin Lanting realized instantly, understanding perfectly, but outwardly said, "This official is only concerned about Elder Zheng catching a chill."

A torrential downpour arrived suddenly.

Raindrops the size of soybeans beat fiercely against the military officials' armor. Even the junior officers, who were not qualified to stand inside the pavilion, remained impassive, letting the heavy rain drench them. They were all former subordinates of the Grand General, whose rank was second only to the Grand Chancellor among the dynasty's renowned generals.

They deliberately intended to show the Crown Prince, who enjoyed a life of luxury thanks to his father's achievements, that not only Beiliang's 300,000 iron cavalry were formidable warriors!

The pitiable civil officials, like delicate banana trees that couldn't withstand turmoil, shivered, their umbrellas utterly useless. The slender Jin Lanting, disregarding his own discomfort, strenuously held an umbrella over Zheng Han’hai, who was roughly twice his weight, shielding him from the wind and rain. The servants and retainers were in a flurry of activity, and some quick-witted ones began to think about how to prepare hot soup to warm their masters.

In northern Yongzhou, there was a heavy rain with thunder.

To the east of Beiliang, however, it was a light drizzle. Grand Chancellor Xu Xiao and his chief strategist, Li Yishan, shared a carriage. Outside the carriage, two hundred heavily armored cavalrymen splashed mud with their hooves, their military formation solemn and strict.

Xu Xiao lifted the curtain, glanced at the terrain, and chuckled, "Yuan Ying, there's no need to escort me further. You and Liu Pu can return to the manor."

Li Yishan nodded, appearing as if he wanted to speak but hesitated.

The Grand Chancellor knew the strategist's thoughts and smiled slightly, "It's true that Xu Xiao is arrogant, but he's not a mindless, reckless fool. This trip to the capital is not a whim, nor am I going to engage in a battle of wits with those scholars. No matter how displeased Grand Secretary Zhang Julu makes me, he is still more respectful and humble than Grand Tutor Zhou, who used to bang his head against the wall outside the Kunjie Palace to confront me. That old man Zhou, leader of half the court's scholars, couldn't out-curse me, let alone fight me, but at least he was a man of passion. Zhang Julu, who only rose to prominence after serving as Grand Tutor Zhou's minion for twenty years, is different; he's a rare scholar capable of great achievements. The fact that he's willing to collaborate with Gu Jiantang, and even persuaded Grand General Gu to appease the military officials, retreating again and again, shows that this young Grand Secretary, with whom I've never dealt, is very cunning. He's not old, but his patience is first-rate. I wouldn't feel at ease if I didn't see him for myself. Scholars, with their pens, can harm and kill more fiercely than anyone. Regardless of whether Beiliang's border cavalry will be targeted, just for the sake of the old veterans from various armies who have only enjoyed a few years of peace, I must go and see. I need to make these civil officials, who know nothing of the brutality of war, understand that Xu Xiao hasn't reached the day he can no longer ride a horse."

Li Yishan said lightly, "Back then, you and Gu Jiantang argued endlessly over who would be the leader and backbone of all military officials in court, and who would be sent out as a king, bearing the infamy of a 'second emperor.' Even the Grand Libationer of Shangyin Academy advised from behind the scenes. The late emperor, overcoming all dissenting opinions, was willing to place you, rather than the more easily controlled Gu Jiantang, in Beiliang. This magnanimity truly lives up to the four magnificent characters inscribed on the Listening Tide Pavilion. However, the Nine Dragons Plaque hanging there might not be without the intention of reminding and warning you."

Xu Xiao chuckled, "The late emperor was good in all aspects, except that he was too keen on imperial manipulation. As for magnanimity, Li Yishan, your statement is biased. During the Battle of Xileibi, would I have rebelled? Could the late emperor not see that? Yet, he still allowed fourteen of my old Beiliang subordinates to die by banging their heads in front of the palace. Why? Was it not because he found them an eyesore?"

Li Yishan shook his head and said, "Your resentment hasn't dissipated yet?"

Xu Xiao sneered, "When was Xu Xiao ever a magnanimous person?"

Li Yishan stared at the Grand Chancellor's face and asked in a deep voice, "Are you truly just going to witness Zhang Julu's tactics?"

Xu Xiao burst out laughing, "Some people only sleep soundly when they see Xu Xiao hunched, limping, and decrepit. He finally got to sit on that dragon throne, yet he hasn't had a comfortable night's sleep. I feel sorry for him."

Li Yishan smiled bitterly, helplessly.

Just as he was about to get out of the carriage, Xu Xiao softly said, "Of the ten games at Listening Tide Pavilion, this ninth game might just be yours, Yishan."

Li Yishan, with his back to the Grand Chancellor, lifted the curtain and remarked emotionally, "Only if you live can I be considered to have won."

The Grand Chancellor laughed and cursed, "Nonsense! Do you think I'm willing to die?! I don't seek death, so who can kill Xu Xiao?"

Li Yishan, who had been holding his breath for days, suddenly felt his spirits lift. After alighting, he bowed respectfully, his head lowered as he sincerely pleaded, "I earnestly request the Grand Chancellor to kill fewer scholars this trip. Enough were killed in the unjust War of Spring and Autumn."

Xu Xiao chuckled, "Yuan Ying, Yuan Ying, your stubborn pedantry is your worst trait. Zhao Changling back then was much more artful than you."

Li Yishan took the reins from Liu Pu, the Pavilion Keeper's servant, and said dismissively, "Zhao Changling, the foremost strategist of Jiangzuo, was skilled in devising plans. Even if he were alive today, he still wouldn't get along with you; in fact, he'd cause you more headaches."

Xu Xiao lowered the curtain, smiling faintly.

On a small path at the Yongzhou border, Lu Qiantang, barely able to keep his eyes open, suddenly reined in his horse and drew his sword.

Faintly visible at the end of the path stood a red-armored talisman general, a figure long lost to the Jianghu world.