Zhou Chong said proudly: “I don’t think they can. Even if Maohong comes forward, they can’t reconcile. Wang Cheng was their uncle after all. The hatred of killing a relative is irreconcilable. If you ask me, Wang Dun acts so willfully and tyrannically. Even though he claims to be doing it for the Prince’s benefit, he’s too brutal and fierce. When Wang Cheng was murdered back then, they should have seized the opportunity to arrest him to uphold the law. Then we wouldn’t have today’s troubles.”

Zhou Yi replied: “Though what you say is correct, Wang Dun commanded a great army at the time. Do you think he would have submitted to arrest?”

If Wang Dun didn’t submit and rebelled instead, could the Prince of Langya have maintained the situation?

Without even thinking carefully, Zhou Yi could give the answer: he definitely couldn’t, after all, Wang Dao and Wang Dun were his greatest assets when he came to Yangzhou.

Zhou Yi said: “Fighting recklessly without considering consequences—how is that different from the likes of Liu Kui and Diao Xie?”

Seeing that he actually compared him to Liu Kui and Diao Xie, Zhou Chong instantly became furious: “You actually compare me to such petty men! I advocate punishing Wang Dun for legal principles. What they do is all to flatter the throne and suppress the powerful. How is it the same?”

Seeing his eyes turn red with anger, Zhou Yi quickly apologized, then said: “You go home first. I’m going to see Maohong.”

This time Zhou Chong didn’t stop him, but swept his sleeves and went home first.

Zhou Yi walked near Wang Dao’s residence and saw many people gathered at the main gate, all sitting quietly on the ground. He couldn’t help but shake his head, turned around, and made his way to the side entrance, knocking.

In the end, Wang Dao still let Zhou Yi in. They were good friends, and he understood Zhou Yi. If it were trivial amusement, he would have gone along and sat at the main gate. Only when there were things that must be said would he insist on seeing him.

Zhou Yi followed the servant inside to find Wang Dao, who claimed to be gravely ill and wouldn’t see visitors, sitting under a tree on a mat drinking tea, looking completely at ease.

Zhou Yi walked forward, looking at him with great disdain: “Why are you drinking tea instead of wine?”

Zhou Yi loved wine, already to the point of obsession. Before he arrived, Wang Dao had indeed been drinking wine, but once he decided to see him, he had the wine removed.

He didn’t want Zhou Yi to lose composure at his place.

“This is a new fashion from the north. I heard that Zhao Hanzhang greatly enjoys drinking tea but doesn’t love wine. She also loves clear tea, so now the mountains of Yuzhou and Xuzhou are planted with many tea leaves. Even Shu has started growing tea.” Wang Dao said: “I was curious about what mysteries this tea holds, so I had someone bring some to try.”

At this time, tea culture wasn’t yet very popular. Compared to tea, scholars and literati preferred wine when socializing. But those above set the example for those below. Because Zhao Hanzhang liked it, she served tea when receiving guests, and when she visited others, her hosts would also serve tea. Over time, drinking tea became fashionable.

Though the south was distant from Luoyang, they quickly learned this fashion.

Zhou Yi sat opposite him, picked up a cup of tea to smell it, then took a small sip. After savoring it for a moment, he smiled: “Clear and sweet with an aftertaste—it does have a unique flavor.”

With that, he drained the tea in his cup.

Wang Dao couldn’t help but laugh. Holding the pot, he poured him another cup, smiling: “Then will you switch to tea in the future?”

Zhou Yi directly shook his head in refusal: “Though tea is good, wine is better. And why must I choose only one? I can have both.”

“You, you,” Wang Dao laughed and shook his head, still advising: “You should drink less wine to avoid harming your body.”

Zhou Yi saw he was avoiding the topic that would embarrass him, so he took the initiative to mention it: “I thought you would say ‘to avoid losing composure.'”

Wang Dao looked at him with some embarrassment. Zhou Yi, the person involved, was fine, but he himself felt awkward.

Zhou Yi shook his head: “Though I was impeached by Liu Kui, I did indeed do wrong in that matter. And you—every time you’ve been impeached, you weren’t entirely innocent either.”

Wang Dao fell silent.

Half a year ago, Wang Dao had taken Zhou Yi to visit a friend’s home. During the feast, Zhou Yi got very drunk—whether from something added to that particular wine or simply his reaction to that type of liquor, Zhou Yi lost control on the spot. No matter how their friends tried to restrain him, it was useless. In the end, he stripped naked at the feast, exposing his body for everyone to witness.

After the banquet, Liu Kui impeached Zhou Yi for impropriety. From that point on, Zhou Yi and Liu Kui were at odds.

But that was what the public believed. Actually, though Zhou Yi didn’t like Liu Kui’s character, he didn’t think the impeachment was wrong.

And Liu Kui had also frequently impeached Wang Dao—because the impeached Wang Bin, Wang Yi, Wang Ying and others were Wang clan members, and as the leader of the Wang clan in the south, Wang Dao had failed to properly restrain his kinsmen.

There were also Zhou Yan, Liu Yin and others whom Wang Dao had recommended and who obeyed his commands. When subordinates erred, superiors also bore responsibility.

This was the first time Zhou Yi spoke his heart about these matters with Wang Dao. “Liu Kui… sigh, his actions accord with law and principle. He’s not wrong. What’s wrong is that the southern situation isn’t suitable for strict legal enforcement. But this is the Prince’s intent. The Wang clan’s opposition to Liu Kui is actually opposition to the Prince.”

In Zhou Yi’s view, the conflict between Wang Dao and the Prince of Langya stemmed first from different understanding, then from conflicts of interest.

Wang Dao wanted rule by men first. Once the south was well-governed and everything under control, he would then transition to combining rule by men with rule by law. In between, some people would inevitably be sacrificed, and situations not conforming to legal principles would occur.

But the Prince of Langya wanted to rule directly by law. His privileges and interests were written directly into the law, which is why he relied on Liu Kui and Diao Xie to resist the aristocratic families led by the Wang clan.

And Liu Kui and Diao Xie had small cleverness but no great wisdom, blindly flattering the throne and suppressing the powerful.

But how could governing a state be so clearly black and white, an all-or-nothing governance method?

Zhou Yi saw it very clearly: The fundamental conflict between Wang Dao and the Prince of Langya was different understanding of governance strategy. Wang Dao wanted to occupy the leading position and have the south proceed according to his vision.

The Prince of Langya also wanted to grasp power and govern the south according to his own ideas.

They were good friends. If it were just the conflict between the two of them, perhaps one day one could persuade the other. But they weren’t just themselves—behind Wang Dao stood the Wang clan and numerous aristocratic families, while behind the Prince of Langya were many trusted followers and officials with different opinions.

When the two sides collided, even though both tried to control things, the situation grew increasingly serious. One incident after another of struggle made the relationship between the Prince of Langya and Wang Dao more tense, their conflict deeper.

Wang Dao put down his teacup and looked up at Zhou Yi: “What happened outside?” What could make Boren come and say all this?

After all this buildup, Zhou Yi finally said: “A military report just arrived in the city. Wang Xuan led Jingzhou troops to attack Wuchang Commandery, consecutively taking four cities. Now Wang Yi is retreating steadily.”

Wang Dao was startled and asked: “What about the north…”

“Only Jingzhou,” Zhou Yi paused, his expression full of complexity. “Because Yangzhou’s army seized tax grain that Jingzhou was transporting to Luoyang.”

Wang Dao: …

Seeing him like this, Zhou Yi couldn’t help but sigh: “Since you claimed illness and withdrew, the Prince has been constantly melancholy, while Wang Dun frequently speaks words of resentment. Maohong, if the Wang clan doesn’t restrain itself, it will cause national chaos. By then, can the Wang clan truly still be preserved?”

Wang Dao said nothing.

Zhou Yi didn’t need his answer. After the reminder, he rose to take his leave.

Wang Dao quickly stood and escorted him to the side entrance. Just after seeing him off, Sibo said quietly: “Master, the people at the main gate have mostly left. Only a few from the Wang clan remain.”

Wang Dao replied: “They must have received news of the military report.”

In Jiankang, few people had truly delayed information. He, hiding in his residence, was actually the one whose news came slowly.

—