Chapter 674: Entering Winter People Should Add Clothes

As the Northern Mang army advanced south, Leave City, located on the border of Longyao Prefecture, became an exceptionally prominent town. After the sudden death of the previous city prefect, Tao Qianzhi, his successor, Prefect Ren, naturally saw his standing in the Southern Court rise. However, when he hastily received the news, he was still terrified. He frantically rushed out of the city with a few personal guards, but at the junction of an official road and a narrow trail, he was unceremoniously stopped. To this, the prefect had no complaints, simply returning home dejectedly. On his way back, he wasn't in a rush, occasionally turning his head to observe the solemn-looking cavalrymen. “Ah,” he thought, “they're the Raven Guard, Northern Mang's scouts who claim second to none! I heard that training a single Raven Guard was comparable to two elite heavy cavalrymen from the Beiting Imperial Army, a unique unit. Only that stout general would be willing to spend so much money.”

The illustrious Dong Zhuo, renowned for his military achievements, whether in pursuit or retreat on the battlefield, even without a warhorse, could outrun four-legged creatures with just two legs. Yet, at this moment, pulling out the withered grass that even young children could easily manage seemed particularly arduous for him.

Since his promotion, Dong Zhuo continued to wear armor when going out. Even when attending court to see Her Imperial Majesty, he had never once worn the prominent official robes of the Grand King of the Southern Court. However, on this incognito visit, which didn't alert the border armies, he changed into these robes near Leave City—robes that signified his status as second only to the emperor. He held the small hand of Tao Manwu, Tao Qianzhi's daughter, and walked to the two old graves. The older grave was quite ancient. The person buried there, though a relative, didn't have overgrown weeds around his tomb in the past. This was because when the person in that grave was alive, he would often have people pull out weeds. After retiring from his position as Chongshe General to become the Prefect of Leave City, he would frequently visit the grave. Now, sadly, he lay beside the old man, truly powerless despite his strong will. Dong Zhuo knelt down, placing a flask of wine at his feet. He silently pulled out the yellowed weeds from the old grave, muttering, “Old Squad Leader, don't blame Little Fat Dong. I once swore that I wouldn't have the face to visit your grave and offer wine until I became a first-rank official. Well, today, your Little Fat Dong has finally made it big! Aren't you proud of me? Why aren't you grinning? What, have you finally realized that your yellow teeth were quite unsettling?”

This Grand General and Grand King of the Southern Court, who liked to call Her Imperial Majesty “Sister” and enjoyed pasting spring couplets on others' doors, was now in tears. He violently wiped his face with his hand, his words muffled by tears and snot: “There's a saying back home, Old Squad Leader, 'returning home in glory.' Honestly, don't you think I, Dong Zhuo, am glorious enough today? Look what I'm wearing! It's the exact same rank of robe as Xu Huainan, the former Grand King of the Northern Court! Old Squad Leader, can you believe it? That little fat guy who used to get weak in the knees at the sight of a small detachment of Beiliang cavalry, the one you cursed as a coward – he's now the highest-ranking officer among all the recruits you ever trained.”

Dong Zhuo didn't turn his head, merely pointing a finger at the other grave. “Now look at this bastard, Tao Qianzhi. He's even worse than you. He didn't even die on the battlefield; he just dropped dead. What the hell is that if not desertion? Old Squad Leader, can you sleep soundly with a neighbor like him? I, for one, don't believe it for a second.” Suddenly, Dong Zhuo turned, roaring at the grave: “Tao Qianzhi, I'm talking about you! After Old Squad Leader was gone, you were the first among our brothers to become a squad leader, the first to become a captain, then a general. Is that supposed to be impressive? Bullshit! The highest rank you ever reached in your life was Chongshe General, a mere city prefect of tiny Leave City! 'Prefect,' my foot!” Dong Zhuo laughed miserably. “I know, you thought it was shameful to be associated with me, Fat Dong, so you refused to join the Dong Family Army even in death. Others might suffer to save face, but look at you—you're dead, aren't you? If you've got the guts, crawl out, and I'll kick you right back in!”

Perhaps afraid of startling the little girl kneeling before the grave, Dong Zhuo composed himself. He unscrewed the cap of his wine flask and took out three small cups from his embrace. He placed one on the Old Squad Leader's grave, then, forcing a smile, said to Tao Manwu: “Little Manwu, give a cup to your father. With his addiction to wine, I bet he's been parched after lying here for so long.” The little girl took the cup with both hands. After Uncle Dong filled it with wine, she gently sprinkled it in front of her father's grave. Dong Zhuo poured a cup of wine in front of the old grave, then tipped his head back and guzzled down one himself. He poured another for himself and drained it in a single gulp. Noticing Little Manwu offering him her cup with both hands, Dong Zhuo smiled and said, “Uncle won't give your dad any more. Let him lie there and just stare.” The little girl's eyes filled with tears, but she bit her lip, forcing herself not to cry out, feeling both wronged and heartbroken. Dong Zhuo quickly poured her another cup of wine. Watching the child solemnly sprinkle yet another cup, Dong Zhuo's eyes welled up again. He tilted his head, looking at the grave, and whispered, “Don't worry. Little Manwu is more like my own daughter than my actual daughter. As long as I conquer Beiliang and survive, I can't promise to give her the entire Central Plains as a dowry, but at least half of it will be hers.” Dong Zhuo turned back to the old grave. “Old Squad Leader, are you thinking I, Little Fat Dong, am just bragging again? This time, don't you dare look down on me. Nowadays, if I let out a fart in the imperial court, plenty of people will claim it smells fragrant. Bastards like Hong Jingyan and Murong Baoding, who look so formidable, have to obediently follow my orders. Aren't the Beiliang Iron Cavalry supposedly the best in the world? Old Squad Leader, be bold and tell me: how many tens of thousands of them should die this winter? If even one less dies, I'll dig a pit right next to you two and bury myself, becoming your neighbor! If you really can't speak, just send me a dream.”

Tao Manwu asked Uncle Dong for another cup of wine. After pouring the third offering, she set the cup down and knelt silently before the grave. Dong Zhuo neither told her to rise nor offered any comfort. He simply sat on the ground and poured the remaining wine from the flask onto the soil, softly saying: “Back then, Old Squad Leader, you only led a few of us soldiers. Now, I, Dong Zhuo, have one hundred thousand men in my personal Dong Family Army! And I command Northern Mang's finest Raven Guard, Northern Mang's best infantry! The three hundred thousand border troops from the more than twenty military garrisons in the southernmost prefectures of Guse and Longyao are under my command. Hong Jingyan's Rouran Iron Cavalry and the private armies of great generals like Liu Gui and Yang Yuanzan, totaling over a hundred thousand, are also under my command. Further north, half of the military tallies from two commissioners, controlling two hundred thousand men, were also obediently handed over to me. Once His Majesty has cleared out the northern grasslands, everyone except Tuoba Pusa will fall under my command once they reach the Southern Court's border! How big is Beiliang anyway? With so many men and warhorses, a single piss would cause a flood in Beiliang. We'll have a massive battle before spring, maybe another one during next year's autumn hunt, and Beiliang will be completely finished.” Dong Zhuo chuckled grimly: “Beiliang probably thinks it'll take three to five years of fighting. I've been a fox for over ten years, but this time, I'll be a wolf. I won't stop until I'm utterly sated with their flesh!” Dong Zhuo reached down, scooped up a handful of dirt, then let it fall. Standing up, he said: “Old Squad Leader, Old Tao, I'm taking this empty wine flask with me. One day, when I lead my army all the way to Liyang's southern borders, I'll bring back a flask of soil from there. I'll let you two country bumpkins, who never even visited Beiliang, see what kind of fertile soil it takes to grow rice!”

After standing up, Dong Zhuo looked at Little Manwu, still kneeling. He bent down, gently ruffled her hair, and softly said, “It's time for us to go.” The little girl stood up, silently raising her arm to wipe away her tears. Dong Zhuo paused, looked down at the opulent robe he was wearing, took it off, folded it neatly, and placed it between the two graves. He said indifferently, “Returning home in glory is for others to see. What's the point of wearing it now?” Dong Zhuo then placed Little Manwu on his shoulders, striding away with a laugh. “Little Manwu, didn't Uncle give you a little pony? Soon, you'll be able to cross frozen rivers with our million-strong army!”

Iron horses, frozen rivers, entering the Central Plains.

When that news spread throughout the capital, Tai'an City was not filled with uproar; instead, everyone everywhere was struck silent with fear.

Life in the capital was indeed difficult. Yet, Jin Lanting, the Right Libationer of the Imperial College, who had risen swiftly in influence within just a few years in the capital, listed ten major charges. The target of his impeachment was none other than Zhang Julu, the Chief Grand Secretary and the architect of the entire “Spring of Xiangfu” era of the Liyang Dynasty. Most people in the capital thought this outsider had truly lost his mind. Challenging Grand Secretary Zhang was nothing short of courting disaster, like throwing an egg at a rock. For over a decade, those who wished to see the Grand Secretary dismissed had come one after another, attempting to make trouble every now and then. But most of the time, the Grand Secretary didn't even deign to give them a second glance. And these overconfident individuals, none of whom were influential nobles deeply entrenched enough to shake the capital just by stomping their foot, all failed. Moreover, their ambitions were modest; they merely wanted “the green-eyed one” to shed his official robes, never daring to dream of sending Liyang's foremost official to meet the late emperor.

Among the ten charges, the most convincing was actually just one: forcing the loyal and patriotic Han family of Jizhou, who guarded the nation's gates, to their deaths. This was indeed a secret dynastic affair, passed down through two generations of chief grand secretaries, father-in-law and son-in-law. Jin Lanting's eight-character phrase, “lamps inheriting from lamps, firewood never ending,” used to describe Zhang Julu's political reforms, was remarkably precise. What was particularly intriguing was the charge of colluding with the powerful eunuch Han Shengxuan, which led to widespread corruption within both the inner and outer courts. Now that Han Shengxuan, “the Human Cat,” was dead, how would the Grand Secretary defend himself? However, the most devastating charge, and simultaneously the most baffling, was not about privately maintaining the border armies of Liang and Liao. It was the last of the ten charges: “For over ten years in power, he massively expanded the canal transport, salt, and iron industries, and vigorously supported the Northwest!” When this news settled down, seemingly vanishing like a mud ox entering the sea, more and more people began to grasp its true implications.

Although the Grand Secretary still attended court meetings every day and was present at the Department of State Affairs during his night shifts, handling all administrative affairs methodically as usual, it was not surprising that the Grand Secretary's residence was deserted; after all, he had always disliked private visitors. But when even the grand mansions on the same street as the Grand Secretary's began to see fewer callers, it gave onlookers much to ponder. Crucially, this time, Zhang Julu did not strike with the same thunderous force as he had against the Zhao imperial nobles previously. Regarding Jin Sanlang, the Right Libationer of the Imperial College, and his ingratitude and “mad dog biting,” “the green-eyed one” showed no reaction. Meanwhile, one other significant development was the quiet return to the capital of Yin Maochun, known as the “hidden prime minister,” who was fully responsible for the major evaluation of local officials this year. His Imperial Majesty, accompanied by the Crown Prince, paid a personal visit to Qi Yanglong's residence. Huan Wen claimed illness and did not attend any court meetings, large or small.

Then, like a peal of winter thunder, a startling piece of news resonated through Tai'an City. General Yang Shenxing, who had been thoroughly trapped and humiliated by the Western Chu rebels, secretly submitted a memorial to Tai'an City, confirming that Chief Grand Secretary Zhang Julu's past private machinations against the Han family were indeed unjust!

On the day of the Beginning of Winter, in the early morning fog, His Imperial Majesty personally led the assembled dukes, ministers, generals, and chancellors of Tai'an City to welcome winter in the northern suburbs. Among the dignitaries, only Huan Wen, the Chief Official of the Chancellery, was conspicuously absent. All other civil and military officials in the capital, led by Zhang Julu, were present. Although it was an early morning court session on the Beginning of Winter, a grand imperial audience would follow the winter welcoming ceremony, where the emperor would bestow winter robes upon all officials, symbolizing his compassion for his subjects to brave the cold.

On this day, Old Man Tantan (Huan Wen), who had woken early and sat alone in his study before dawn, stared blankly at the sky outside for a long time. As dawn gradually broke, the old man took a cherished manuscript from his bookshelf, a gift from his mentor years ago. He ground ink himself and, with trembling hand, wrote a line on the flyleaf, intending for his steward to deliver it to the Chief Grand Secretary's residence.

The line read: “Winter deepens, old friend, add more clothes.”

After writing, the old man fell into a daze again. Then, an old steward from the residence, pale-faced and stumbling, burst into the study, crying out with a desolation as if the sky itself had fallen: “My Lord, the Chief Grand Secretary just announced in court that the Xu family has diligently guarded the Northwest for over twenty years across two generations! And Xu Fengnian, inheriting his father's legacy, has shown loyalty worthy of commendation, thus he should be granted the title of Grand Pillar of the State! This... what should we do?! Why would the Chief Grand Secretary act this way... The crucial thing is that His Majesty wasn't even angered! Although he didn't agree to the Grand Pillar of the State title, after the imperial decree was refused, he once again bestowed upon the King of Liang the title of Supreme Pillar of the State!”

Huan Wen, expressionless, waved his hand, signaling the old steward to withdraw.

Silence returned to the study. Huan Wen gently closed the treasured manuscript that had been open, muttering, “Old man, I can only burn it for you now.”