Yao Chenying rode hard.

The main army had been out in the field for some days. As the local official, he had many tasks to handle in coordination with the army. Zhù Ying had moved the secretariat forward, and he and she were now some distance apart, handling their respective duties from two separate locations. The soldiers at the camp gate were startled to see him: “Inspector?”

Yao Chenying asked, “Is the commissioner here?”

The soldier said, “She is.”

Yao Chenying dismounted and let out a long breath. “Good. Please announce me.”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying had not changed her habits since coming to the western frontier; she was constantly running about everywhere, and by now could manage a conversation with the locals in their own dialect. She mainly asked local people about their knowledge of the western frontier — for future reference. The great battle had only just begun, so she had to temporarily suspend that activity.

When Yao Chenying entered the main tent, she had just gathered up some odds and ends from the table and was waiting for him. These past days the two had worked well together. Zhù Ying smiled and asked, “Such haste — there must be something?”

Her access to information from all directions was relatively extensive — news from the court was even more current than that available to Zheng Xi, who was in mourning leave, since Chen Meng was still in the Council of State. She therefore assumed Yao Chenying had come about local matters.

Yao Chenying gave a cupped-fist salute and glanced around, asking, “You really sent that Lu girl out too?”

Zhù Ying smiled. “Yes — both she and Sang Da are very attentive. Working alongside Young General Leng, they should complement each other well.”

Yao Chenying mentioned it in passing and didn’t press further. Rather than telling her about local affairs, he instead asked, “Commissioner, are you aware of developments in the capital?”

“Which matter does the inspector mean?”

Yao Chenying said, “His Majesty has fallen ill.” Seeing no surprise register on Zhù Ying’s face, he guessed she already knew.

Zhù Ying said, “It would be best to keep this information from spreading — it could easily unsettle morale.”

Yao Chenying did not press her on that point either, and instead said, “Morale may not waver, but your troubles are coming along with it.”

“Nothing more than being pushed to advance. I anticipated this long before leaving the capital and already discussed it with His Majesty — matters at the front are not something one can predict.”

Yao Chenying, seeing she still wasn’t the least bit ruffled, simply laid his cards on the table: “There are people in the court pressing, and Seventh Young Master’s faction is holding them back. But what if someone on Seventh Young Master’s own side cannot hold themselves back?”

“Hmm? Who? It shouldn’t come to that.”

Yao Chenying said, “There is always someone who cannot withstand provocation. The mouths and pens of the scholarly world are sharper than swords. Hotheads cannot bear it. It might be worth writing another letter to Seventh Young Master — explain things clearly, and ask him to rein in certain people.”

Zhù Ying said, “Chief Minister Zheng and I are in regular correspondence. Inspector, please do not worry.”

Yao Chenying had received a letter from someone in the capital asking after the battle situation — specifically why Zhù Ying hadn’t advanced yet. He could not give up the identity of the person who had written to him, yet in his view Zhù Ying’s arrangements of recent days had been correct; weighing it all carefully, he could only offer this much as a hint. Seeing that Zhù Ying heeded the advice, he set his mind at rest.

He was just preparing to exchange a few more pleasantries and then leave — he still had many things to attend to.

But then Zhù Ying suddenly asked, “This battle, though it won’t drag on too long, will still take a few more months before it’s over. At the latest we should be able to return by early next year. Do you want to go back to the capital?”

Yao Chenying asked, “Why do you say that?”

“Barring unexpected developments, we should come out ahead in this campaign. Kun Da Chi’s internal situation is even less stable, and whoever is more desperate has to be the one to make concessions,” Zhù Ying said. “Since we are winning, merit will certainly be rewarded. Your abilities are evident to everyone — they will not leave you stranded here indefinitely.”

Yao Chenying waved a hand: “I’m afraid it will not be so easy.”

“The court, on large matters, is still fair.”

Yao Chenying gave a small smile and shook his head. “Commissioner, don’t think about all this for my sake just yet — getting the meritorious soldiers properly settled is the real priority. Furthermore, this area has long suffered from warfare and needs time to recover and heal. I also worry that someone else might not handle it well. I’ve been here a long time; I don’t have the heart to be promoted and simply leave.”

Seeing Zhù Ying’s expression of disagreement, his tone grew even more sincere: “I am the Zheng family’s nephew by marriage; Chief Minister Xian’s faction would hardly wish for me to return to the capital so quickly. Moreover — what would I go back to do? My family has been away from the capital for some years; although my maternal cousin is still there, I myself am not very well connected in the capital.”

“What is there to worry about in that?” Zhù Ying said. “Whether Chief Minister Xian is willing or not — that cannot outweigh the court’s larger interests! If it’s only a concern about Chief Minister Xian, there is no need to be this pessimistic. If it’s a concern about the people here, there is no reason not to start making arrangements now. The court will not let any one person remain in a single place indefinitely — you have already been here quite some years, so you should have been preparing for this kind of thing.”

She spoke with equal sincerity. Yao Chenying said, “That too is a matter for the future. For now, the first priority is getting through this battle. By my reckoning, settling it in a single decisive engagement may not be possible. As for a counter-offensive — that is not entirely out of the question, but any advance would ultimately require a withdrawal. The western frontier lands are not fertile; stationing personnel there is not something we could manage right now. This battle will most likely just restore things to how they were twenty years ago — they will still pay tribute and call themselves vassals; the court will accept them as such. Hmm — we might also create some friction over the trading post arrangements, but essentially that is how it will go.”

“The aftermath will be more troublesome than fighting the battle itself. And even within this battle, there will likely be further entanglements with the western frontier. I only hope that no one raises the question of propriety and ritual law with regard to the western frontier.”

At this juncture, she had absolutely no interest in maintaining the western frontier’s “stable line of succession,” and would never entertain the notion that the western frontier people must also abide by “the son succeeds the father, the eldest legitimate heir inherits.”

Yao Chenying thought it over and said, “It shouldn’t come to that. The western frontier people have already accepted things as they are — what is the point of the court sticking its nose in?”

The two continued to talk, and as the conversation warmed, Yao Chenying no longer felt the urge to leave. Zhù Ying asked his views on the court. Yao Chenying said, “Chief Minister Xian will most likely come away empty-handed — he gains nothing, yet he has upended other people’s livelihoods, harming others without benefiting himself.”

“His original heart also wants to benefit the realm — it is just unfortunate that people have different ideas. When intention and method cannot be matched, that is the result.”

“If only he would content himself with being a peacetime prime minister, he could manage even that. But he had the misfortune of encountering unpeaceful times. In principle, after any dynasty reaches the point of a near-century, it is time for a dose of medicine; Prime Minister Wang was the skilled physician, and Chief Minister Xian is following the prescription but has burned the medicine in the cooking — how can anyone swallow that?” Yao Chenying shook his head.

“And Wang Shuliang?”

“A good man, but also incapable of setting things right.”

Zhù Ying felt that Yao Chenying’s thinking was clear, and was all the more determined to get him transferred to the capital. For one thing, his standing could put some pressure on the impetuous faction within the Zheng party; for another, having one more clear-headed person in the court could also help hold the Xian faction in check. The Xian faction currently had no one who could command general respect, which made the task of binding them together extremely difficult — she could only set that aside for now.

The two talked all the way through dinner. After eating, Yao Chenying truly had to leave. Zhù Ying did not detain him further, and then got down to writing — not only to Zheng Xi, but to Chen Meng and others as well, and an imperial memorial to the emperor. The long conversation afterward with Yao Chenying had been extensive, but she hadn’t forgotten why he had come in the first place. The moment Yao Chenying’s words had come out, she guessed there was a story behind them.

She was confident in going west because she had people at court: Chen Meng, Zheng Xi, and Dou could all be counted among her network in the capital; with them there, many small moves the court might make against her could be blocked. But if any of these three also wanted to point and direct, pushing her to do this or that, that would be extremely troublesome.

Zhù Ying patiently wrote to Zheng Xi, making clear that she had already dispatched troops, that everything was going well at the moment, and that based on the intelligence gathered over recent days, Kun Da Chi’s internal situation was growing increasingly anxious — which was precisely why she needed to present the appearance of a long-term garrison. The more Kun Da Chi panicked, the more openings he would expose, and the easier it would be to deal with him at the close. She also wrote about her observations of Yao Chenying, concluding that he was a capable man — though Yao Chenying’s personal interest lay more in civil administration than in military affairs — and suggesting that after this battle, Yao Chenying be quickly transferred to the central government.

In the letter to Chen Meng she wrote at considerably more length, also explaining what she intended to do: for instance, making a show of preparing to cultivate the land, feigning a readiness for extended standoff with Kun Da Chi. But her ultimate goal was to make Kun Da Chi back down, send envoys to the capital, and once again pay tribute and submit to investiture, acknowledging vassal status. The idea was to let Kun Da Chi batter his head bloody against this iron wall, and then turn back home to concentrate on dealing with his internal affairs — not to come raiding the border again for ten or twenty years.

Finally, the imperial memorial — she gave the emperor a concise summary of the key points.

After dispatching this stack of letters, memorials, and dispatches, Zhù Ying settled in quietly to wait for news from the front.

…

Marching an army into the field brings every conceivable kind of development; many are utterly unforeseeable. Sometimes the grain and troops are perfectly coordinated, but the army gets lost and cannot join up with the allied forces — and the engagement ends without accomplishment. Sometimes the march is proceeding perfectly, and then one stumbles into dangerous terrain and loses men without ever fighting — all a matter of fate.

And then there are the wretches who happen to be fording a river just as the water suddenly surges…

Things of that kind.

Accordingly, Zhù Ying, commanding from the rear, still kept ten thousand troops in reserve. Too many more and they couldn’t be deployed effectively here; too few, and in the event of something serious they would be useless.

In the middle of this anxious waiting, she received a letter from Zhao Su. The letter arrived alongside official documents — he was concurrently managing work for the Finance Ministry and some transport and logistics tasks, which gave him regular contact with the front. Therefore, though his letters were slightly slower, the channel had remained open throughout.

Zhù Ying picked up the letter and frowned slightly — the emperor’s illness had led certain people to certain unwelcome thoughts. There was a current among the court officials hoping the emperor would establish a Crown Prince.

But the problem was that the emperor’s eldest son was somewhat dim-witted — and was not even the empress’s child. The emperor and empress were both young; if they later produced a legitimate heir, what then?

Another school of thought said: what if no legitimate heir was produced in the future? Was it not a waste to let the current prince languish? The emperor was young, but the eldest son was already several years old. Generally a Crown Prince was established early, to allow for cultivation from a young age. And usually, imperial offspring were of only average quality — start teaching early, and at least some deficiencies could be compensated for.

Then there was also the fact that the emperor had punished Princess Imperial An Ren, the empress had removed her hairpins in contrition, and Yan Gui had been elevated to the rank of Zhaorong. And Zhaorong Yan had a son, second only to the eldest — and by accounts, somewhat sharper than the eldest.

Not this family’s petty rubbish again! Zhù Ying burned the letter over the oil lamp, watching the flame flicker.

None of this was a major matter. The emperor should have dealt with Princess Imperial An Ren long ago. As for who became Crown Prince — it made little difference; barring a once-in-a-generation genius, they were all puppets to be played by the ministers. What Zhù Ying worried about was that this business of establishing a Crown Prince might stir up some additional trouble at court.

She wrote back to Zhao Su, telling him and the others to stay well out of it — if anything came up, they would deal with it after she returned to the capital.

Her estimate proved correct. Half a month later, word came from the front: though the three armies’ advance had not been a rout of the enemy, they had held firm against the frontier troops’ assault and gained the upper hand in spirit. Young General Leng reported that cracks were appearing in the opposing forces — Kun Da Chi’s own clan and some of the fence-sitting tribes had begun to split and act separately.

Chen Fang, Lu Danqing, and the others were going into battle for the first time, but their boldness was remarkable — the greener the soldier, the more daring they tended to be. The three of them put their heads together with Sang Da and hatched a stratagem of sowing discord: they spread word that Kun Da Chi had deliberately sent the insubordinate factions to bleed against the imperial army — using the enemy to eliminate dissenters. Sang Da, being a local, found a skilled interpreter to spread the rumor.

Chen Fang was most skilled at spinning stories: “Just spread the word that the frontier ruler said: if they win, they’ve killed enemies; if they lose, they’ve eliminated traitors.”

Lu Danqing looked at him with sincere admiration and thought: what exactly does this person have against the frontier ruler?!

She also chimed in with an idea: “Then let’s single out just one side and hammer them!”

The three of them had been dispatched to Young General Leng’s command, but they themselves were also part of the secretariat’s staff; Young General Leng didn’t really assign them specific tasks — he just hoped to bring them along at the very end when pursuing the enemy, to let them collect some merit in the final stage. A prime minister’s son, a military commissioner’s adopted daughter, and Sang Da, who was the local addition to make up the numbers — but since she stayed close to Lu Danqing, she was brought along and elevated along with the rest.

In the meantime, no matter how much they pressed for action, Young General Leng turned a deaf ear. When they grew too persistent, he would send them out on “patrol” — never with any concrete assignment.

Until Chen Fang and Lu Danqing took it upon themselves to make contact with the enemy. Young General Leng was so startled his whole body broke into a cold sweat. Should he beat them? Two of them were women; the third was a pampered young gentleman.

Young General Leng was furious beyond measure and led troops to go to their aid, only to have the three come running toward him with faces full of excitement. Young General Leng erupted: “You made unauthorized contact with the enemy — what crime have you committed?!”

No one’s pleading helped. The fact that they hadn’t been beheaded right there was already a mercy.

Chen Fang said, “General — what crime have we committed? The general ordered us to patrol, and we had the misfortune of encountering the enemy mid-patrol…”

Young General Leng wanted to curse his ancestors back eight generations! You had this excuse ready the whole time, didn’t you?!

“Bind all of them! Cage wagons — send them back to the secretariat!”

…

Zhù Ying waited for the battle report, and also waited for the three troublemakers.

Wu Pei asked carefully, “My lord, they are still kneeling outside. Should we…”

Zhù Ying said, “What’s the point of kneeling?”

“Excellent — I’ll release them.”

“Give them twenty military strokes first.” Zhù Ying said.

Elder Sister Hu felt a nostalgic pang — it had been a long time since she’d heard the lord say “twenty.” She said, “But two of them are young women — administering punishment publicly may not be appropriate.”

“What is not appropriate? All three — no stripping off their outer garments, administer it publicly! And don’t plead for them. If not for Young General Leng going to the trouble of inventing a ‘patrol’ excuse for them, their heads would be hanging right now! Is twenty strokes an injustice? If not for enforcing it, what becomes of military discipline?”

Fearing that others wouldn’t dare carry it out, Zhù Ying went out herself and had all three dragged up onto the platform to supervise the punishment.

Crack after crack — twenty strokes. All three endured it with backbone: Chen Fang wore a face of grievance; Lu Danqing held her neck stiff; Sang Da’s face was red — but not one of them uttered a sound until the full twenty was done.

Only after it was over did Chen Fang say, “Commissioner — we have a plan!”

“Oh? Come inside and tell me.”

Without even having their wounds dressed, they were hauled into the main tent for questioning. Trembling, the three laid out their plan and said it should prove effective.

Zhù Ying said, “So you had ideas all along, did you? And why didn’t you bring them up in discussion first? Now you come here to show off your cleverness?”

Chen Fang sniffled: “The idea only came to us after we’d seen the enemy in the field. With battle situations moving like fire, there was no time to report.”

Zhù Ying stared at him coldly until he shrank his neck in, and only then said, “Go get treated.”

Chen Fang’s plan was actually not bad — but to carry it out with the modest forces they had at hand was far too arrogant a notion. This was something that required coordination across the whole force.

While Chen Fang and the others were getting their wounds dressed, Zhù Ying summoned Yao Chenying and the generals — Chen Fang’s scheme was actually a sound one, and she intended to put it to use, combined with the long-term standoff, to intimidate Kun Da Chi. The effect was certain to be excellent.

Zhù Ying and the gathered generals refined the plan. Chen Fang and the others were to remain in the central camp to heal, serving as advisors in the meantime. Of the three armies, the one facing Kun Da Chi’s own forces adopted a purely defensive posture and did not engage proactively. Conversely, those facing the unruly subordinate tribes came down with ruthless, concentrated force.

Zhù Ying deliberately released some prisoners, letting them carry the rumor back with them.

At the same time, Yao Chenying joined in the effort, cooperating with Zhù Ying to go through the motions of cultivating the wasteland — giving every impression of settling in for the long haul.

Two months of this, and Kun Da Chi could hold out no longer. He sent envoys.