In the military camp, several soldiers gathered together whispering. Ying Huai strode past, glaring at everyone. They quickly dispersed, but their faces flickered with strange expressions.
After Ying Huai entered Song Muchuan’s tent, he very cautiously closed the curtain, looked around left and right to confirm no one was eavesdropping outside, then walked to Song Muchuan’s desk and whispered a few words in his ear.
Song Muchuan was startled: “Who recognized him?”
Ying Huai sighed heavily: “On the battlefield, Third Master Xie’s helmet was knocked off by an enemy pike. Though he quickly retrieved it, the surrounding soldiers still saw his face.”
“But not many people know him. How was he recognized? Could it be rumors deliberately spread by Qi spies?”
“You could say this was just a coincidence!” Ying Huai slapped his thigh in frustration. “It just happened that one soldier used to work as a gatekeeper at the government office and had seen Third Master Xie. Though he didn’t see clearly and was only half-believing when he mentioned it to his colleagues, it turned out well—in just a short time, the rumor spread from one to ten, ten to a hundred, told with vivid detail. They say he’s a fence-sitter who goes with the wind, and seeing the Qi people failing, he turned to pledge allegiance to the Yu dynasty.”
Song Muchuan thought for a moment, asking worriedly: “He doesn’t know about this yet, right?”
Ying Huai scratched his head: “I don’t see him anywhere in camp… he wouldn’t have heard something and hidden away to grieve secretly, would he?”
“He’s not that kind of person,” Song Muchuan said thoughtfully, only giving Ying Huai a reassuring smile. “He’s probably gone to see someone he wanted to see.”
“Then about this matter… should we do something? Should I order the soldiers to stop spreading such gossip?”
Song Muchuan was about to say something, but after thinking, he sighed and said gloomily: “Wagging tongues cannot be stopped.”
“Then what do we do?”
“If you and I do too much, we’ll be accused of poor judgment in employing people—clearly he’s a two-faced, repeatedly treacherous disloyal subject, yet we still entrust him with important tasks and help conceal his identity…”
“Minister Song!” Ying Huai became urgent, shouting to interrupt Song Muchuan’s words. “At a time like this, am I someone who can’t bear even this little doubt?”
“General Ying has never seen the terror of rumors and slander… When the time comes, if soldiers’ hearts turn away and military morale wavers, can you bear it? Queshan concealed his identity precisely because he considered these things. He has already weighed the consequences—everything now, he should be able to handle.”
Ying Huai was silenced but still showed some unwillingness: “Whether he can handle it is one thing, but how can I feel at peace? Third Master Xie is a hero who endured humiliation and went undercover in the enemy country. If he continues to be misunderstood by slander, where is heavenly justice? His actions in the army these days are clear for all to see. Without him, today’s victory couldn’t have been won so beautifully.”
“Those who know the truth can understand his difficulties. But there are many who don’t know the truth—three people make a tiger, many mouths melt gold…”
“Then make his hardships public!”
“I’m afraid it would backfire and seem like trying to cover up by denying.” Song Muchuan unusually showed a negative attitude.
“What’s gotten into Minister Song today, being so timid!” Ying Huai blurted out urgently, but after calming down a bit, he felt Song Muchuan had some valid points. This matter was tricky and must not be handled rashly.
But Ying Huai was someone who couldn’t tolerate sand in his eyes. His mind raced, and suddenly his eyes lit up: “If the open approach won’t work, then surely the covert approach will? Everyone’s spreading rumors anyway. I’ll have the Yucheng Army spread them too—say we heard that Third Master Xie was an undercover agent who never betrayed the country, previously helped Li Du Mansion escape Qi control, and risked his life to send out much intelligence. It’s all hearsay anyway. Even if not everyone believes it, as long as people hear it, some will believe.”
Song Muchuan finally heard what he wanted to hear. He occasionally used cunning schemes too.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ying Huai, but after all, Ying Huai didn’t have such deep friendship with Xie Queshan. Now during this tense war period, he could completely avoid getting involved in this muddy water. Song Muchuan feared that despite his strong desire to protect Xie Queshan, he wouldn’t get Ying Huai’s real support and would end up powerless despite good intentions.
So he seemed to be deflecting but was actually guiding step by step, making Ying Huai deeply feel Xie Queshan’s difficulties and voluntarily propose countermeasures. As leader of the Yucheng Army with strong influence, having his wholehearted cooperation would make things much easier.
He felt ashamed for a moment about his petty calculations. Ying Huai was straightforward and had no intention of shirking responsibility. He quickly agreed: “The general is indeed wise and resourceful. I think this method is feasible.”
Ying Huai was somewhat fired up, clenching his fist: “Then I’ll immediately order the Yucheng Army to spread the word.”
Song Muchuan was still worried and added: “Don’t be too deliberate about it.”
“Don’t worry, leave it to me.”
Song Muchuan saw Ying Huai off. Though Xie Queshan’s matter was settled, he still felt restless, his heart unable to calm down.
—It came neither early nor late, but precisely when they had just won a victory and the army finally had some hope, Xie Queshan’s identity caused some waves. Hopefully, this was just a minor storm.
—However, how long could this victory last? Would it anger the Qi people and provoke more fierce counterattacks?
—The request for aid sent several days ago—why hadn’t the court responded even today?
…
Jinling. Taiji Hall.
The morning court session had unexpectedly lasted two hours and was only just ending now.
Regarding whether to send reinforcements to Li Du Mansion, the ministers engaged in verbal battles for several rounds, with the scene in the great hall becoming uncontrollable at times.
If the country were strong with abundant troops, defending every inch of territory would be unquestionable. But now with the new dynasty in Jinling just established and limited military forces, even the new capital was unstable. Dividing rule along the river was already the general trend, and Li Du Mansion was located north of the river—defending it would require an even higher price.
These difficulties were well understood by all.
But ministers supporting aid said this battle concerned popular sentiment and morale. If victorious, it would show the Yu dynasty still had the ability to fight the Qi, giving hope for northern return.
So many people’s homes were in the north, forced to flee to the south. When an old minister spoke of returning home, tears filled his clothes, moving everyone to sighs.
But despite the sentiments, the opposition remained firm as rock.
They brought out an even more powerful reason—the siege of Li Du Mansion might be a trap.
The one saying this was Assistant Minister of War Hu Ruhai. After Shen Zhizhong’s death, military affairs had been handed over to him. He was an upright official and also a rough man. Though he often disagreed with others, everyone in court knew he was honest and utterly loyal to the dynasty—a good man.
Hu Ruhai said: “Yesterday, a group of about seven or eight soldiers escaped to Jinling with their lives and told this minister the real situation in Li Du Mansion. Li Du Mansion is now actually under the control of the traitorous minister Xie Queshan. He conspires with the Qi people, forcing Prefect Song to submit and issue requests for aid, creating the illusion of defending the city, just wanting to lure Jinling’s army into a trap—this is the military strategy of besieging a point to strike reinforcements. Your Majesty, you must not be deceived!”
This statement caused an uproar in the hall.
Xu Zhou became anxious: “Li Du Mansion is currently fighting. Instead of holding firm at the front lines, those few men ran to Jinling—they must be deserters. Moreover, how can the words of just a few be entirely trusted? I trust Minister Song. His request for aid cannot be false.”
“The world knows that Minister Song was once close friends with Xie Queshan. Before the Jingchun Incident years ago, he knelt outside Wende Hall for Xie Queshan, begging the Great Emperor for troops to aid Youdu Mansion—but what happened later? Xie Queshan surrendered to Qi, and he exiled himself, never returning to court. This shows their deep friendship! Though Minister Song contributed greatly to Your Majesty’s southern crossing, facing his former close friend, he might show weakness and be used by him. In this matter, his words are the ones that cannot be fully trusted!”
Hu Ruhai spoke passionately, and every sentence was fact. The ministers frequently nodded in agreement.
Xu Zhou wanted to say a fair word for Xie Queshan. He knew Xie Queshan’s true identity, but right now he had no evidence. So when he wanted to argue further, a minister refuted with heartfelt pain—”Your Majesty has been blinded by the traitor!”
“If Your Majesty insists on having his way, this old minister can only demonstrate his resolve with death!” After saying this, the man removed his hat and struck a pillar to show his determination not to send troops.
Xu Zhou was greatly alarmed and nearly ran down from the dragon throne to stop him. Fortunately, the ministers cried out in alarm and barely restrained the man.
The great hall was in complete chaos. Xu Zhou sat back on the dragon throne in bewilderment, looking at these ministers’ faces—some panicked, some tense, some grief-stricken.
He wanted to save Li Du Mansion, but in his ministers’ eyes, he wasn’t a very trustworthy ruler. He had no notable political views or achievements, so each of his decisions needed careful consideration. He could sit in his current position entirely thanks to these ministers’ support—he couldn’t ignore everyone’s opinions.
He could stubbornly send troops, but this would chill his ministers’ hearts. With the new dynasty just established, they couldn’t afford internal discord.
This long argument finally ended with Xu Zhou’s weary words of “discuss further.”
After the morning court session ended, Xu Zhou kept Xie Zhu behind alone.
Among the new dynasty’s ministers, Xie Zhu had the highest prestige. Before Shen Zhizhong’s death, he was the person most trusted. Shen Zhizhong had many followers in court, and they all chose to continue trusting Xie Zhu, almost treating him as the next Chancellor. Moreover, Xie Zhu came from Li Du Mansion, and he had contributed to the new emperor’s southern crossing.
For Xu Zhou, he naturally trusted people from the Xie family, and Xie Zhu was also Xie Queshan and Xiaoliu’s uncle. He always heard Xiaoliu talk about how her father escaped the mortal world and entered Buddhism as a coward, and only Third Uncle retained his noble righteousness, struggling to support the literary hearts in Li Du Mansion.
“In Minister Xie’s opinion, should I send troops to Li Du Mansion?”
Xu Zhou asked very sincerely, because today in the hall Xie Zhu had said nothing, and he really hoped this highly respected old minister could give him some answers… even just some direction.
“Your Majesty must already have a decision in mind. This minister dares not say much.”
Xu Zhou became a bit anxious. At a time like this, why was he still being evasive? He wished he could make his words even clearer.
“Minister Xie, you also don’t believe your nephew is that kind of person, right? He’s clearly an undercover agent who went alone into the enemy army. Without his secret assistance, how could I have safely reached Jinling? The crisis in Li Du Mansion cannot be false. I fear someone with ulterior motives is stirring trouble, deliberately letting Jinling hear some confusing intelligence.”
Xu Zhou was clear-minded—those opposing sending troops weren’t necessarily treacherous ministers. Their decisions were all made responsibly for the court. Including Hu Ruhai, he didn’t necessarily have ulterior motives, but he had received certain intelligence and had to give his advice to the emperor based on that intelligence.
These were all proper duties of ministers, but the fear was that someone was exploiting the ministers’ loyalty. Communication between Jinling and Li Du Mansion wasn’t timely. What the real situation in Li Du Mansion was—unless Xu Zhou went to see personally, it could only be hearsay.
Xu Zhou wanted Xie Zhu to take a stance. He couldn’t be unclear about Xie Queshan’s character, then use his prestige to influence the ministers’ decisions.
Unexpectedly, Xie Zhu immediately knelt down, saying with utmost humility: “Precisely because Xie Queshan is this minister’s nephew, this minister has personal feelings toward him. But in the heights of the imperial court, every decision concerns the life and death of people throughout the realm. How can this minister bring personal feelings into the court? Your Majesty, in this matter, whether public or private, this minister cannot say much. Whatever decisions you make, this minister will fully support.”
Xu Zhou was somewhat dumbfounded. Xie Zhu was actually avoiding suspicion. This was clearly correct—don’t adjust your shoes in a melon field, don’t straighten your hat under a plum tree.
No one was wrong, but why couldn’t he save Li Du Mansion?
He looked at Xie Zhu kowtowing, his long-winged hat fallen to the ground. The founding emperor disliked ministers getting too close to prevent their whispering together, so he designed long-winged hats—within the reach of the iron wings, they couldn’t get close. Upright and proper, maintaining integrity. But Xu Zhou suddenly felt it was too cold and distant—he simply couldn’t reach his ministers’ hearts. That suffocating feeling of seeing ministers ready to die for their principles in the great hall returned. Actually, Xie Zhu was no different—they were all pressuring him.