When they left the maple grove, it was already afternoon.
Looking back at the slowly dissipating thick mist and the westward-slanting winter sun, Meng Jianqing took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions that seemed somewhat unbalanced after the sudden relaxation following extreme tension.
However, that peculiar feeling of standing atop a peak and overlooking all the mountains below kept his mood unsettled for a long time.
The great trend of the realm… Once the great trend was established, even emperors would be powerless to reverse it. Influential figures like those from the immortal mountain on the sea must follow this great trend to ride the waves and achieve merit and success.
Yun Yanjiao rode slowly beside him, while Meng Jianqing’s subordinates and the Yun family servants followed far behind.
Having settled his mind, Meng Jianqing naturally thought of another question. Without waiting for him to ask, Yun Yanjiao had already begun explaining: “After His Majesty learned of your three-month agreement with Daoyan, he worried that other generals might be dissatisfied and problems would arise here, so he sent me to stabilize military morale.”
They looked at each other, finding it both touching and ridiculous. Their emperor—if you said he was soft-hearted, he still knew to hold Bao’er as a hostage; if you said he was shrewd and capable, he had foolishly let Yun Yanjiao out. Once a bird has returned to the forest, how could it enter the net again?
But this gave rise to a strange feeling in Meng Jianqing’s heart.
He knew that his mother, far away at Mount Putuo, had not been disturbed either. If it had been Prince Yan, even if he couldn’t openly detain the Buddhist nun who served Guanyin at Mount Putuo, he would have found ways to control such an important hostage.
Perhaps Emperor Jianwen’s release of Yun Yanjiao and his decision not to disturb his mother were simply based on the hope that by treating his subjects so generously, they would know gratitude and repay his kindness.
Meng Jianqing believed that his choice in the maple grove had not been wrong.
After all, both the Zhu family uncle and nephew were fighting under the banner of the Hongwu Emperor—whoever won or lost, what did it matter to them?
But he couldn’t help feeling vague guilt in his heart.
Yun Yanjiao also clearly felt uneasy and changed the subject: “I met Senior Brother Li outside Guangping City. He said he was coming to prevent the Southern Army from burning grain, so I told him—”
Meng Jianqing cut off her words: “I understand.”
Rather than let Li Keji blindly send Shi Ganfeng or the Yunnan-Guizhou indigenous people to assassinate the general in charge of burning grain, it was better to tell him the truth and try negotiation first.
Yun Yanjiao looked intently at him until she confirmed his meaning, then continued: “I could have reached your camp first, but on the way I received a message from big brother saying that Uncle Ming was heading north at Daoyan’s invitation, asking me to intercept Uncle Ming and prepare to convene the Elders Council. The situation was urgent, and I had sent all my people out, so I didn’t have time to notify you.”
Actually, it would have been inconvenient to notify Meng Jianqing. As Mingyuan had said, in their eyes, Meng Jianqing was still an outsider after all.
But when Meng Jianqing found the area outside the maple grove, Yun Yanjiao had led him in without hesitation.
Meng Jianqing made an “oh” sound, smiled, and said nothing.
Yun Yanjiao also smiled slightly: “But I later thought that husband and wife are one body, and it’s hard to draw clear boundaries between what you and I do. Take this Fish Intestine Army, for example—whether in His Majesty’s eyes or your subordinates’ eyes, I’m someone who can take your place in giving orders. So, regarding the immortal mountain on the sea, you cannot remain uninvolved either.”
Meng Jianqing smiled again and said after a while, “Where will you go now?”
Yun Yanjiao said, “It’s not convenient for me to stay in the military camp, but I’ll remain in Guangping Prefecture. Senior Brother Li might not be able to manage those six thousand dan of grain alone. Since we’re saving people, we should save them completely. Moreover, my staying here can also put Yingtian’s mind at ease.”
Meng Jianqing looked back at Li Keji in the distance. Li Keji’s horsemanship wasn’t good, and his horse was ordinary, so he had fallen behind.
He turned back and said, “Hu Jinyong’s camp is also running short of grain. I want to borrow three hundred dan of grain from Li Keji to help Hu Jinyong get through this crisis. What do you think?”
Yun Yanjiao thought for a moment and said, “Senior Brother Li probably won’t refuse. But there are three Southern Army units around Guangping Prefecture—if you only help Hu Jinyong, what will the others think?”
Meng Jianqing said with a half-smile: “Like Li Keji said, he can only save the people he can see before him. Three armies? I only see this one.”
Just as when he was besieged by Prince Yan’s forces, only Hu Jinyong had seen him.
Yun Yanjiao remained silent.
In this chaotic time of war, they could only save the people they could see before them.
Except for continuing to gather intelligence, the Fish Intestine Army had no other substantial actions for nearly two months, falling unexpectedly quiet—not merely stopping the assassination of Prince Yan’s generals—thereby drawing a series of complaints and accusations.
Wei Huan removed the small flags from the sand table one by one, looked at the empty sand table, and gazed inquiringly at Meng Jianqing across from him: “Sir—”
Meng Jianqing only glanced at him without answering.
So Wei Huan said nothing more, assuming in his heart that the Fish Intestine Army’s temporary ceasefire and rest must be due to secret orders from His Majesty—otherwise, why would Madam have left Yingtian to come to Guangping Prefecture? Heaven’s secrets could not be revealed; they only needed to follow Meng Jianqing’s commands.
A guard outside the tent reported that messengers from the capital had arrived. Meng Jianqing pondered briefly and gestured for Wei Huan to quietly withdraw with the other two guards.
Meng Jianqing watched the two messengers who strode into the tent. Both were young, wearing ordinary soldiers’ clothing, but both had very composed temperaments. One presented a waist token, the other presented a thin brocade box sealed with wax.
Meng Jianqing didn’t reach out to take them, gesturing for the two to place them on the desk before him. Without hurrying to open the brocade box, he first examined the two messengers, staring until they lowered their gazes to avoid his sight, then said: “His Majesty and I once jointly selected twelve messengers, agreeing that only letters carried by these twelve messengers could be trusted. Which side sent you two? Why do you have waist tokens given by His Majesty?”
The two raised their heads, startled, looked at each other, and the older messenger said: “This subordinate doesn’t know of this agreement between Lord Meng and His Majesty, but was only ordered by His Majesty to deliver this letter. Perhaps His Majesty will explain this in the letter.”
Meng Jianqing stared at them, and after a while, slowly reached out to take the brocade box, examined it for a moment, then placed the letter back on the desk. His peripheral vision swept over the two messengers, paused slightly, his right hand drooped slightly, and a small knife slid from his sleeve, gently scraping away the wax seal on the brocade box.
The tent was extremely quiet, as if even breathing had stopped.
Just as the brocade box was about to open, Meng Jianqing suddenly flipped his right wrist, reversed the small knife, and knocked the brocade box away.
Both messengers simultaneously flipped backward, leaped up in the tent, instinctively drew their swords, remembered where they were, and hesitated slightly. During this hesitation, the brocade box that had fallen to the ground was already shattered by the hidden force from Meng Jianqing’s blade, and thick smoke mixed with countless fine needles shot out with continuous “chi chi” sounds.
While holding his breath, Meng Jianqing lifted the long desk to shield himself. Dozens of fine needles struck the desk, still making rattling sounds. The two messengers weren’t so fortunate—having hesitated for just an instant, they were already hit by the fine needles.
Meng Jianqing grabbed the tiger skin cushion behind him and threw it out to cover the brocade box on the ground, in case there were other mechanisms. The guards outside heard the messengers fall but, without Meng Jianqing’s orders, remained outside the tent, not daring to enter rashly.
Meng Jianqing covered half his face with a cloth dampened with tea water, waiting for the thick smoke to slowly dissipate.
The two messengers lay on the ground, looking at Meng Jianqing in disbelief, but suffering from the deadly poison on the needles that entered the blood immediately and spread rapidly throughout their bodies—they could no longer speak.
Meng Jianqing sneered coldly: “Using such tricks in front of me! The person who taught you was Bian Baihe, wasn’t it? Bian Baihe probably doesn’t know that this kind of killing brocade box was made by Wei Huan under my orders. Bian Baihe insisted on adding poisonous smoke on his own—anyone with a keen nose would have smelled it long ago. If Wei Huan knew someone had modified his design like this, he’d be half-dead with anger.”
The two messengers’ bodies began to stiffen, but their consciousness remained crystal clear, as if they would soon become living corpses. This terrible feeling chilled the heroic blood in their hearts that had been ready for death, and their eyes, looking at Meng Jianqing, involuntarily took on a pleading color.
Meng Jianqing sighed: “You dared to take on the task of killing me—truly, the younger generation is to be feared. But didn’t you think that whether you succeeded or failed, if His Majesty didn’t kill you, Bian Baihe would have to kill you to prevent word from getting out and damaging His Majesty’s reputation? I’m just puzzled why they didn’t send those agreed-upon messengers to assassinate me—at least I wouldn’t have felt something was wrong the moment I saw you two coming to deliver letters.”
He later learned that Bian Baihe had indeed ordered those messengers to carry out the assassination, but after two messengers were executed for refusing to accept the mission, the other ten had all fled.
Meng Jianqing no longer watched these two men’s dying struggles, summoned guards, and declared that these two messengers were impostor assassins to be dragged out and immediately executed. The brocade box and waist tokens were to be burned and deeply buried.
When he was ordered to form the Fish Intestine Army, he had an agreement with Emperor Jianwen: when the general is abroad, some imperial commands need not be obeyed.
Now he was merely temporarily ceasing combat for rest and reorganization, yet Emperor Jianwen couldn’t bear it? Or was it someone else who couldn’t bear it, determined to get hold of this army he had spent a year carefully training to achieve their success?
To take over the Fish Intestine Army, killing him alone wouldn’t be enough—they’d also have to kill Yun Yanjiao.
Yun Yanjiao was now staying at Li Keji’s educational commissioner’s office in Guangping Prefecture, helping Li Keji’s wife distribute porridge for disaster relief using the grain Fan Fu had transported.
If Yun Yanjiao was also assassinated, it could only mean one thing: Bao’er had been rescued by Shi Ganfeng, and Emperor Jianwen, feeling he could no longer control the two of them, had decided to change generals on the battlefield.
The Fish Intestine Army was a sword for external use, Bian Baihe was a sword for internal use—unfortunately, he was not yet his match.
Who would have thought that no matter what kind of emperor, in the end, they couldn’t do without an Imperial Guard, even if it wasn’t called by that name.
Meng Jianqing suddenly froze.
There was another possibility that would make Emperor Jianwen want to reclaim the Fish Intestine Army: Shi Ganfeng had failed to rescue Bao’er, Bao’er was now dead, and Emperor Jianwen no longer had a hostage.
He stood up abruptly.
After pacing back and forth in the tent a few times and taking a deep breath, Meng Jianqing regained his composure.
News from Shi Ganfeng would first be sent to Yun Yanjiao—he’d better wait here to avoid missing it on the road.
He should have confidence in Shi Ganfeng; after all, they’d been dealing with each other for over ten years.
Yun Yanjiao came quietly at lamplight time. Meng Jianqing was inspecting the military camp, and after the reporting guard led Yun Yanjiao over, he bowed and withdrew.
With no one around, they stood on a small hill in the rear camp. Yun Yanjiao said softly, “Bao’er has already been sent to my brother.”
They looked at each other. Now, Meng Jianqing could command this Fish Intestine Army without any concerns.
Looking up at the night sky, with a cold moon and chilly wind, shifting stars and constellations clearly announced the arrival of another winter.
When the three-month agreement with Daoyan was about to expire, the situation suddenly changed dramatically.
In the first month of the fourth year of Jianwen, Prince Yan’s army entered Shandong, bypassed the heavily defended Jinan, broke through Dong’a, Wenshang, and Zou County, reaching Pei County and Xuzhou, advancing directly south. Only after Prince Yan’s army had passed Xuzhou did the Shandong forces react and pursue south to intercept.
Prince Yan was abandoning the contest for cities and territory in Shandong and Hebei, penetrating deep with an isolated army to strike directly at Yingtian.
When Meng Jianqing first heard this news, he found it very puzzling.
With Prince Yan abandoning Shandong and advancing south with an isolated army, Emperor Jianwen only needed to defend Jinling firmly, wait for loyalist forces from all directions to converge, while Shandong forces cut off Prince Yan’s supply lines and retreat route. In that case, Prince Yan would inevitably be attacked from the front and rear, in an extremely dangerous position.
With Prince Yan’s military prowess, how could he make such a mistake?
Meng Jianchen and Gongsun Yi, who had originally been transferred back to guard the northern frontier, now followed Prince Yan south again. When passing through Guangping Prefecture, the two came laughing to pay New Year’s respects to Yun Yanjiao, also bringing Li Mo, who had become familiar with them. They seemed not at all worried about the possibility of their retreat being cut off. The Guangping Prefect knew these three were Prince Yan’s beloved generals but could only turn a blind eye to their comings and goings. After all, who doesn’t have relatives? His own two brothers—one in the Southern Army, the other in Prince Yan’s army—also maintained private contact.
Meng Jianqing held this intelligence report, gazing at the night sky in contemplation.
Meng Jianchen bringing Li Mo to see Yun Yanjiao must have had ulterior motives. With Li Mo calling Meng Jianchen’s wife “sister-in-law,” when Meng Jianqing wanted to deal with him in the future, he would inevitably hesitate somewhat. This battle between the Zhu family uncle and nephew would end sooner or later—between relatives and friends, one must leave some face so they could meet again in the future.
How many people also held such thoughts, feeling this was the Zhu family uncle and nephew’s domestic affair, unrelated to themselves? Of the generals who received Emperor Jianwen’s loyalist edicts, how many were sincere in following orders and fighting with full force?
After all, who came to sit in that position—what did it matter to them? Hadn’t he gradually developed such thoughts? Prince Yan’s isolated southern advance was betting on precisely this popular sentiment.
Once Prince Yan’s troops reached the city walls, how many would turn their coats?
He remembered Mingyuan’s serpentine, cold, and sinister voice in the thick mist of the maple grove. Was it that person who had devised the strategy? Had Daoyan made the three-month agreement with him because he had deep confidence in Mingyuan’s strategic planning?
They were all people inside the game—perhaps only someone like Mingyuan, who viewed the world with cold eyes, could see where the key lay in this chess game for dominion over the realm.
That deep and unfathomable night sky, that deep and unfathomable will of heaven, had once seemed separated from him by only a layer of thick mist, within arm’s reach.
But now, Meng Jianqing knew that heaven’s will was lofty and difficult to question.
Merit and glory, talent and fortune—they all lose to those hands that overturn clouds and rain.
But he also clearly knew that no matter how it overturned clouds and rain, he must firmly grasp the blade in his hand, grasp this Fish Intestine Sword, to hold onto his destiny amid all these changing winds and clouds.