Marquis Zheng had said a great many things and looked utterly exhausted.
Seeing that everything that needed saying had been said, Tang Shan began making signals with his eyes. Jin Liang, his own eyes brimming with tears, gave a slight nod and prepared to step in and smooth things over — urging Zhù Ying to leave the tent so Marquis Zheng could rest.
But Zhù Ying did not leave immediately. Instead, she said to Marquis Zheng, “Even if we must keep this from the rest of the camp, Chief Minister Zheng should be informed. With him in the capital, if something unexpected occurs, he will be able to manage things from that end.”
Marquis Zheng smiled faintly. “I will see to it.”
His voice had grown very low. Zhù Ying thought for a moment, then said, “Please focus on recovering. Changing generals in the middle of a campaign — even someone as uninitiated in military matters as I am knows that is not to be done.”
Marquis Zheng gave a slow, smiling nod. “I know. The matter I have spoken of — keep it in mind as well.”
“Yes.”
Marquis Zheng slowly closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. Zhù Ying gave a deep bow and withdrew with Jin Liang.
Because she held the position of Expenditure Commissioner, Zhù Ying had her own small area of camp within the main encampment, and she stayed there that night. Once she had settled in a little, she took up her brush and wrote Zheng Xi a letter in deliberately ambiguous terms, hinting at the Marquis’s health, and setting out her own view — that it did not seem advisable to make any sudden moves, and that it would be better to find a skilled physician.
She then had this letter dispatched back to the capital.
In the capital, at the Zheng family residence, Zheng Xi received Zhù Ying’s letter quickly.
There was a faint vertical crease between his brows. He opened Zhù Ying’s letter and scanned it, then drew from a drawer another letter and laid the two of them side by side on the writing desk.
The last faint flicker of hope within him faded.
Zheng Xi raised a hand in anguish and covered his eyes. Marquis Zheng’s illness, it seemed, was very serious indeed.
After a long while, he lowered his hand, studied both letters carefully one more time, and then sent someone to fetch Zheng Yi.
Zheng Yi came in with a light step, his face carrying a trace of excitement. He stepped into the study and immediately said, “Seventh Brother! Do you have something you want me to do? Oh — why do you look so unhappy? Wang Yunhe has taken sick leave, has he not?”
Zheng Xi said, “Do not move against him yet.”
Zheng Yi said, “And why not? He has had his moment of glory — wielding supreme power for more than twenty years, the last person with authority like that was Gong Jie. Since he is old and sick, why not let him retire peacefully? He could still preserve what little dignity he has left.”
Zheng Xi said, “If he retired, his disciples and followers would go mad with rage.” He pushed the letter on the right-hand side of the desk forward.
Zheng Yi took two steps forward, pressed his hand on the letter and slid it toward himself until it hung an inch over the edge, then pinched it up with his fingers. He scanned it quickly and asked, “Is this reliable intelligence?”
Zheng Xi pointed at the other letter: “Sent by Zhù Zizhang.”
Zheng Yi held the two letters up and compared them, then said, “Then it is certain. A physician must be sent quickly. No — a request must be submitted for an imperial physician…”
Zheng Xi said, “That would be as good as nullifying everything Father has worked for.”
Zheng Yi was taken aback, then said, “You are right — if that group of people takes advantage of the moment to stir things up and demands that Uncle return home, everything would be ruined! If he was released and someone else takes over, and that person loses, it does nothing to show Uncle’s ability. If the new person wins, Uncle has done all the work to benefit someone else. My guess would be it falls to General Leng — Young General Leng?”
Zheng Xi said, “That is hard to say.”
Zheng Yi said, “Wang Yunhe’s disciples and followers will certainly not let this opportunity pass. They will want to drag out some posthumous title or another — Loyal-and-Upright or Loyal-and-Martial, whatever that sort of thing is…”
Zheng Xi lowered his eyes and said, “Father actually has a thought about all of this.”
Zheng Yi said, “If Uncle has a plan, you should have said so earlier! Hey — should we call Wen Yue and the others over to discuss it together?”
Zheng Xi said, “Wen Yue? I have my own plan.”
“No more plans — this is such a good opportunity! Military merit is the most valuable of all! I almost want to go myself.”
Zheng Xi said, “The capital is the ground you know best.”
All along, what Zheng Yi had been doing was forging connections with the noble families, gathering intelligence from the noble circles, and keeping watch over the movements of that world. Before the Prince of Lu’s coup attempt, Zheng Yi had already been doing exactly this — in truth, he was an unsung meritorious figure.
Zheng Yi said, “Fine. So — what is Uncle’s plan?”
Zheng Xi said, “Father will arrange for Zhù Zizhang to take part in some military affairs. If Father becomes gravely ill, Zhù Zizhang will take over the command.”
“Him? That is not exactly his strong suit, is it?”
Zheng Xi nodded, “But he holds four special appointments combined. He can barely manage to hold the position. The overall strategy has already been set — only the execution remains. Rather than give it to someone else, better to give it to him. At the very least, he will not create a catastrophe.”
Zheng Yi said, “And what of General Leng? By any reasonable calculation, the turn should be his. Even if Uncle came home to recover, it is not as though the court has no generals! Zhù Zizhang — he is skilled in civil administration, that much is undeniable. But as for military affairs, he has shown no particular ability in that area either. And it is not that I am speaking ill of him — he is just too softhearted. Help him today, and certainly he will repay the kindness — but that does not mean he will not also extend some measure of protection to Wang Yunhe. People are never perfect.”
General Leng was indeed a sound candidate. Zheng Xi said, “Certainly General Leng is fine — but we need to make some further preparations as well…” He did not continue.
Zheng Yi thought for a moment and said, “True — General Leng is also getting on in years.”
“May heaven protect us — and let Father have no regrets.” Zheng Xi made up his mind: he would not report the matter to the emperor for now. He would quietly dispatch a skilled physician to the front line and try to hold things together until Marquis Zheng achieved a decisive victory.
The Marquis’s regrets — his own son understood them all too well. A heroic figure of that caliber, who had been sidelined for decades — how could he not want to blaze forth once more in the later years of his life?
Zheng Yi said, “Wang Yunhe is also ill. If he were in good health, he might at least have some genuine concern for the country.”
At this moment, even the mention of Wang Yunhe’s illness gave him no satisfaction. If it had been Wang Yunhe, he probably would not have seized on the opportunity to push for Marquis Zheng’s replacement — but others could not be relied upon to have the same decency.
The two cousins talked it over and agreed: delay, for now.
But barely any time had passed before General Leng himself came to the door. Zheng Xi received him politely. The General, dressed in informal clothes and speaking as though dropping by casually, asked, “Is there any news of Marquis Zheng?”
Zheng Xi said, “With active operations at the front, military intelligence does not flow easily. Things are very busy there. I have received nothing to that effect.”
General Leng’s expression shifted dramatically: “Do not try to deceive me! He has already fallen ill!”
Zheng Xi’s expression did not change: “Where did you hear such a rumor? Could this be an enemy agent trying to undermine morale?”
General Leng showed absolutely no deference to this Prime Minister and pointed directly at Zheng Xi: “Think you are the only clever one here, do you? The main camp has how many people in it? Are they all blind and deaf? By the time I heard the news it was already too late — the ones with loose tongues have been talking about it openly in the capital!”
Zheng Xi felt a jolt inwardly, though his face remained composed: “How could that be? Where did you hear this?”
General Leng laughed coldly. “How could it not be? Does anyone have no family, no one to write home to?”
The two of them exchanged information and only then discovered that it was some of the officers writing letters home who had inadvertently let the news slip to their families.
Young General Leng had been single-mindedly focused on preparing his surprise strike against the northern tribesmen — partly to establish his own merit, and partly to use that merit to speak a few words in favor of his kinsman Leng Pinghui and get him another chance. After receiving his orders he had begun reorganizing his troops, then gotten into a dispute with Zhù Ying over supplies. Since Zhù Ying had always been generous with supplies and he could not actually find fault with her to extract additional compensation, he could only haggle.
After much back and forth, Young General Leng also thought of going to Marquis Zheng directly to petition for more horses — the one thing Zhù Ying had refused to approve, no matter what. Horses at this time were extremely scarce. More for Young General Leng meant less for everyone else.
Young General Leng was unable to see a healthy Marquis Zheng. Upon seeing the Marquis’s condition, he dared not press his demands further. He wrote home to General Leng asking for advice.
Because he had been delayed by official business, his letter arrived later than it might have.
Others who had been less occupied than he was had discovered Marquis Zheng’s condition even earlier.
Many of the officers in the army were from noble families in the capital. Sending a letter home or passing on a message required no personal household staff — the convenience of the military courier system could be put to use. This sort of arrangement was something Zhù Ying herself had used long ago, when she was at Fulu County, to exchange letters with Zheng Xi in the capital.
General Leng was tight-lipped, but with so many people, there would always be some who were not. Even those who wanted to be discreet — upon hearing that Marquis Zheng had “possibly” fallen ill — felt they had to worry for their own people, to gather information, to discuss countermeasures with those they trusted.
The news could no longer be kept under wraps. Ordinary people on the streets had heard nothing — but among men like General Leng, it was no secret.
General Leng said to Zheng Xi, “You may be Prime Minister, but do not be too clever by half! While your father is well, he can naturally keep the army in line — they would fall silent at a word. But the moment he is ill, do you think those people will still obey orders properly, that there will still be discipline and command?”
Zheng Xi left his seat and rose, giving General Leng a deep bow. “Please, Uncle, I ask for your guidance.”
General Leng made a show of reluctance, then helped him up and said, “The best outcome would be if Marquis Zheng recovers. Otherwise, preparations must be made. We need to decide how to explain this to the Emperor.” He paused, then added, “Wang Yunhe is also sick. Well — let us go to court together tomorrow.”
The two of them talked it over, and the following day General Leng attended court as usual.
They had both planned to request an audience after the morning court session to speak with the Emperor about Marquis Zheng’s situation. But they did not have to wait until the session ended — before it even dismissed, a censor stepped forward and stated that he had heard rumors circulating in the capital that Marquis Zheng was gravely ill.
Every eye in the hall first turned to look at this censor — a fairly young man, around thirty, standing upright. Then all eyes swung to Zheng Xi. Wang Yunhe was on sick leave, making Zheng Xi the only Prime Minister present in court.
Zheng Xi committed this censor’s face to memory.
Then, unhurriedly, he stepped forward and addressed the Emperor: “The front line is locked in a standoff, and military intelligence is difficult to verify at every moment. It is likely that communications have broken down — to this day I have received no such report.”
The Emperor said, “Send a messenger to inquire.”
“Yes.”
With this matter afoot, everything else suddenly seemed less pressing. Many people privately wondered: How old is Marquis Zheng now? Will he even make it home alive from this campaign?
The Crown Prince harbored similar concerns and lingered after court hoping to speak with the Emperor. But both Zheng Xi and General Leng had also stayed behind. The Emperor, wishing to ask about the war situation, summoned all three men to approach, and asked, “In your estimation, how does this campaign look?”
Before the Crown Prince could speak, Zheng Xi knelt on the spot: “Your Majesty — my father has indeed caught a chill.”
The Emperor said, “What? But you just said…”
Zheng Xi’s eyes were faintly red as he looked up at the Emperor and said earnestly, “That was in court, Your Majesty. If rumors were to spread, how could the morale of the army and the people remain stable? At such a critical moment, how could we afford to let ourselves show weakness? Even if something must be addressed, it must be done quietly. This minister has ached to go personally and tend to his father — but could only force himself to hold back.”
General Leng added, “That is precisely right. The northern cavalry come and go like the wind — the moment morale wavers, we will be exploited.”
The Emperor asked the Crown Prince, “What do you think?”
The Crown Prince thought for a moment and said, “Chief Minister Zheng’s words are reasonable. Perhaps we could quietly dispatch an imperial physician.”
The Emperor said, “Very well — you all go and arrange it.”
Zheng Xi quickly expressed his gratitude on behalf of Marquis Zheng and hurried off to make arrangements.
General Leng had expected the Emperor to keep him behind for consultation, but the Emperor showed no such inclination. He had no choice but to leave together with Zheng Xi, and the hall was left with only the Emperor and Crown Prince.
Once the others were at a sufficient distance, the Crown Prince said to the Emperor, “Their reasons for concealing this were half for the public good — and half for private ends.”
The Emperor had been handled by his great ministers for several years now and had developed some sharper eyes for such things. He said, “Of course. But as long as they can win decisively and make the northern tribesmen afraid enough to seek peace on their own initiative, I can afford to be lenient.”
The Crown Prince felt that Zhù Ying was a person of real cunning and could not quite figure out how his father had arrived at the conclusion that she was “simple-minded.” But Zhù Ying’s way of handling affairs was reliably reassuring, and the Crown Prince chose not to contradict his father on that point.
The Crown Prince had another thought he wanted to raise with his father: “Father, should Marquis Zheng suffer some misfortune, Chief Minister Zheng would need to observe mourning. With Chief Minister Wang also ill, the Council of State cannot be left short-handed — should we not add someone to it?”
The Emperor said, “Who do you think would be suitable?”
The Crown Prince said, “I am young and cannot see clearly — it must be Father who decides. So long as the person can get things done, that is all I ask. Best if they do not simply bicker endlessly and accomplish nothing.”
The Emperor was fully in agreement. “Alas — if only Ministers Liu and Shi were still with us. But so be it — Dou Peng, then.”
The Crown Prince thought for a moment about Minister Dou — nothing seemed particularly wrong with the choice. He was not the most brilliant, but he was reliable enough to hold things steady. He said, “As long as it meets Father’s wishes.”
The Emperor said, “As the Son of Heaven, how can I act purely on personal impulse? It must be someone suited to governing the realm. You must remember this — do not act rashly or carelessly.”
The Crown Prince respectfully received the instruction.
On Zheng Xi’s side, an imperial physician was selected and dispatched north. A messenger was also sent to find Zhù Ying.
Zheng Xi sent the imperial physician off and then wrote Zhù Ying a long letter, asking her to keep a close watch over Marquis Zheng and take care of him where possible. If she could, he hoped she would also pay closer attention to the main camp and assist Marquis Zheng with various matters — and do her best to keep the news suppressed. If the worst came to the worst, he asked her to send a message back to the capital in advance, so he could prepare.
With the physician on the road, Zheng Xi sent for Wen Yue.
Wen Yue had been observing mourning at home for some time. The mourning period was nearly up, and it was time to arrange his return to duty.
Zheng Xi wasted no words and simply asked Wen Yue, “Have your abilities kept up?”
“I have not dared to let them lapse.”
“Good. Go and report to the main camp.”
Wen Yue quickly asked, “And the Imperial Guards?”
“I will arrange for someone else. When you get to the front, guard against arrogance and recklessness — be humble and careful, willing to take responsibility. Only then can we speak of the future.”
Wen Yue ventured, “The Marquis…”
Zheng Xi said, “Let us hope it is only a minor illness. When you arrive, you will meet with Zhù Zizhang — he is a person who values old ties, and he will certainly look after people. He does not have much experience with military matters, so you must cooperate well with him.”
Zheng Xi had thought it through carefully. Zhù Ying’s status was barely sufficient for the role, and as the officer overseeing supplies, she had a firm grip over the front-line soldiers — which meant she could carry out Marquis Zheng’s arrangements effectively. But in other respects, she would surely be no match for Wen Yue, who came from a family with generations of military service. While Marquis Zheng was still present, and with Zhù Ying there to support things afterward, getting Wen Yue into that position — earning merit, receiving rewards, gaining promotions — was the goal.
Gradually, through Wen Yue, he could continue to maintain some hold over a portion of the military’s power.
Wen Yue agreed promptly.
Zheng Xi moved quickly. Wen Yue set off on the road north right on the heels of the imperial physician.
Zheng Xi reflected that his arrangements should be fairly thorough now — the rest was up to heaven. Looking around him, he saw that he was the only person left in the Council of State chambers, and a faint sense of loneliness crept over him.
He found himself unexpectedly thinking of Wang Yunhe.
An announcement broke through his thoughts: “Chief Minister! Chief Minister Wang is here!”
Zheng Xi’s gaze locked onto the clerk who had made the announcement, holding the man in that stare until the clerk flinched and stammered, “Chief… Chief Minister…”
Zheng Xi withdrew his gaze, straightened his robes, and walked out quickly to receive his visitor. He saw Wang Yunhe being supported by two clerks, making his way toward the Council of State chambers. Zheng Xi stepped forward quickly, dismissed one of the clerks, and personally took Wang Yunhe’s arm: “You are still unwell — why have you come yourself?”
Wang Yunhe said slowly, “I heard that the court is not at peace.”
Zheng Xi said with a show of concern, “There are rumors of my father suffering a minor illness. I have already sent someone to look into it. I only hope it does not affect the military campaign.”
Wang Yunhe looked at him. Zheng Xi’s gaze did not flinch or turn away.
Wang Yunhe said, “What is your own thinking?”
“Changing generals in the middle of a campaign is a grave mistake.”
Wang Yunhe nodded: “I know — and that is the reasonable view. But we must plan for contingencies. If the commanding general is confined to his sickbed, military morale could become unstable.”
“Yes.”
Wang Yunhe and Zheng Xi went inside and exchanged views. Wang Yunhe’s opinion was that a deputy commander should be dispatched: “Someone who can act under Marquis Zheng’s orders and also substitute for him when needed.”
Zheng Xi said, “And in your view — what about General Leng?”
Wang Yunhe said, “What we have available to work with right now is limited to just so many people. Long years of peace bring their own atrophy. One can only hope that this war shakes everyone at all levels into alertness and forges a few capable people who can actually be used.”
“Yes.”
Wang Yunhe truly was a principled man. Though he himself was ill, when he appeared before the Emperor he still recommended keeping Marquis Zheng in his post, while dispatching General Leng to join him — he never once seized on the situation to propose recalling Marquis Zheng to the capital to convalesce.
Zheng Xi could not help but feel a genuine admiration for this portly old man. Had the positions been reversed, he was not certain he himself would have had that kind of breadth of mind.
Zheng Xi had been hoping day and night for news that Marquis Zheng had recovered. Instead, the Emperor summoned him and Wang Yunhe to inform them that he intended to appoint an additional Prime Minister.
Wang Yunhe did not object to Dou Peng; at this juncture, Zheng Xi was also in no position to object. The Emperor issued the edict, and Dou Peng entered the Council of State — while continuing to concurrently hold his position as Minister of Revenue.
Once he became a Prime Minister, Dou Peng became considerably more generous with the supply allocations for the front line. Before, he had always asked a few more questions before releasing anything; now he still asked the same questions, but was somewhat more liberal with the quantities.
The money was not spent in vain. In the seventh month, a victory report arrived.
Marquis Zheng had ordered both flanking armies to take the offensive. With the soldiers reorganized and the supply lines holding steady, they achieved significant results.
The victory report, arriving when it did, immediately overshadowed the news of Marquis Zheng’s illness. The Emperor was greatly pleased. He conferred an honorary rank upon Zheng Chuan, held a banquet in the palace to host the court’s hundred officials, and issued an edict offering words of encouragement and condolence to Marquis Zheng, commanding him to press on until the northern tribesmen were so afraid of the imperial might that they would seek peace of their own accord.
Emperor and officials alike had not heard good news for quite some time. Most of them drank until pleasantly tipsy. The Emperor too had a little wine in him, and leaning on the support of the palace attendants, he made his way to the back palace to rest.
He had recently conferred a formal title upon a beloved concubine — gentle and compliant, with an endearing way of having small, harmless caprices that suited him perfectly. He had barely reached the entrance to her quarters when a set of rapid footsteps made him turn to look.
The one who came was Hao Dafang: “Your Majesty! His Highness the Crown Prince requests that you come to the front hall.”
“Oh?”
“The Chief Ministers have received a memorial, Your Majesty. Seeing that you had already retired to the inner quarters, they did not dare to push through — so His Highness the Crown Prince sent this servant to request that Your Majesty return.”
The Emperor was in a good mood and said, “Lead the way.”
The imperial litter turned and followed Hao Dafang back, and the whole party returned to the front hall.
The Crown Prince, the Prime Ministers, General Leng, and others were all present, each with a grave expression. The Emperor was slightly flushed with wine and did not pay close attention. He said vaguely, “What is all this?”
Zheng Xi knelt on the spot: “Your Majesty — this minister’s father is gravely ill.”
The Emperor’s wine cleared half away in an instant: “What?”
Zheng Xi repeated it, and tears began to flow. He looked up at the Emperor and said earnestly, “That was in open court, Your Majesty. Once rumors spread, how could the morale of the army and the people remain steady? At this most critical juncture, how could we afford to show weakness? Even if something must be handled, it must be handled quietly. This minister has longed to go personally and attend to his father — and yet could only force himself to endure the anguish.”
General Leng also added, “Just so. The northern cavalry come and go like the wind — the moment morale slips, they will seize on it.”
The Emperor asked the Crown Prince, “What is your view?”
The Crown Prince thought for a moment and said, “What Chief Minister Zheng says makes sense. What if a physician were quietly dispatched?”
The Emperor said, “Agreed — you all go and arrange it.”
Zheng Xi hurriedly expressed gratitude on behalf of Marquis Zheng and quickly went to make the arrangements.
General Leng had expected the Emperor to keep him for further consultation, but the Emperor showed no such inclination, and he had no choice but to leave together with Zheng Xi. The hall was then left with only the Emperor and Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince waited until the others were well out of earshot before saying to the Emperor, “Their reason for concealing this was half for the public good — and half for private benefit.”
The Emperor, having been handled by these great ministers for several years now, had sharpened his eye for such things, and said, “Of course. But as long as they can achieve a decisive victory that frightens the northern tribesmen into seeking peace on their own, I can afford to let it pass.”
The Crown Prince had always felt that Zhù Ying was a person of real depth and cunning, and could not quite figure out how his father had arrived at the conclusion that she was “simple-minded.” But Zhù Ying’s way of handling affairs was reliably reassuring, and the Crown Prince decided not to contradict his father on that point.
The Crown Prince actually had a different thought he wanted to raise with his father: “Father, should Marquis Zheng suffer some misfortune, Chief Minister Zheng would have to observe mourning. With Chief Minister Wang also ill, the Council of State cannot be left short-handed — should we not appoint someone to fill the vacancy?”
The Emperor said, “Who do you think would be suitable?”
The Crown Prince said, “I am young and cannot see clearly — it must be Father who decides. So long as the person can actually get things done, that is all I ask. It would be best if they did not simply bicker endlessly and accomplish nothing.”
The Emperor agreed fully. “Alas — if only Ministers Liu and Shi were still with us. Well, so be it — Dou Peng, then.”
The Crown Prince thought for a moment about Minister Dou — nothing seemed particularly wrong with the choice. Not the most brilliant, but capable of holding things steady. He said, “As long as it meets Father’s wishes.”
The Emperor said, “As the Son of Heaven, how can I act purely on personal impulse? It must be someone suited to governing the realm. You must remember this — do not act rashly or carelessly.”
The Crown Prince respectfully received the instruction.
Zheng Xi chose an imperial physician and dispatched him north. He also sent a messenger to find Zhù Ying.
Zheng Xi saw the physician off, then wrote Zhù Ying a long letter asking her to keep watch over Marquis Zheng and attend to him where possible. If she could, he hoped she would pay more attention to the main camp and help Marquis Zheng with various matters, while doing everything possible to suppress the news. If the worst came to the worst, he asked that she send a message back to the capital in advance, so he could prepare.
With the physician on his way, Zheng Xi sent for Wen Yue.
Wen Yue had been observing mourning at home for some time now; with the period nearly up, it was time to make arrangements for his return to duty.
Zheng Xi got straight to the point and asked Wen Yue, “Have your skills kept up?”
“I have not dared to let them lapse.”
“Good. Go and report to the main camp.”
Wen Yue quickly asked, “And the Imperial Guards?”
“I will arrange for someone else. When you get to the front, guard against arrogance and recklessness — be humble and careful, willing to take responsibility. Only then can we speak of the future.”
Wen Yue ventured, “The Marquis…”
Zheng Xi said, “Let us hope it is only a minor illness. When you get there, meet with Zhù Zizhang — he is a person who values old ties and will certainly look after people. He does not have much experience in military matters, so you must cooperate well with him.”
Zheng Xi had thought it through carefully: Zhù Ying’s status was barely sufficient for the position, and as the official managing supplies, she had the front-line soldiers in her grip — meaning she could carry out Marquis Zheng’s arrangements effectively. In other respects, though, she would surely be no match for Wen Yue, whose family had been in military service for generations. While Marquis Zheng was still on his feet, and with Zhù Ying there afterward to provide support, the plan was to get Wen Yue into position — earning merit, receiving rewards, rising in rank.
Gradually, through Wen Yue, he could continue to maintain some grip on a portion of the military’s influence.
Wen Yue agreed readily.
Zheng Xi moved quickly. Wen Yue set off on the road north right on the heels of the imperial physician.
Zheng Xi reflected that his arrangements should be fairly thorough. The rest was up to heaven. Glancing around, he found that he was alone in the Council of State chambers, and a faint, unexpected loneliness came over him.
He found himself unexpectedly thinking of Wang Yunhe.
An announcement interrupted his thoughts: “Chief Minister! Chief Minister Wang is here!”
Zheng Xi’s gaze landed on the announcing clerk and held him in a piercing stare until the man flinched and stammered, “C-Chief Minister…”
Zheng Xi released the man with his eyes, straightened his robes, and walked out quickly to receive his guest. He saw Wang Yunhe being supported by two clerks, making his way toward the Council of State chambers. Zheng Xi quickened his step, took over from one of the clerks, and personally supported Wang Yunhe: “You are still unwell — why have you come in person?”
Wang Yunhe said slowly, “I heard that the court is not at peace.”
Zheng Xi said with a look of concern, “There are rumors of my father having caught a minor chill. I have already sent someone to look into it. I only hope it will not affect the military campaign.”
Wang Yunhe glanced at him. Zheng Xi’s gaze did not waver.
Wang Yunhe said, “What is your own view?”
“Changing generals in the middle of a campaign is a grave mistake.”
Wang Yunhe nodded: “I know — and that is reasonable. But we must plan for contingencies. If the commanding general is confined to his sickbed, military morale could become unstable.”
“Yes.”
Wang Yunhe and Zheng Xi went inside and exchanged views. Wang Yunhe’s position was that a deputy commander should be dispatched: “Someone who can act under Marquis Zheng’s orders — and also substitute for him.”
Zheng Xi said, “In your view — what about General Leng?”
Wang Yunhe said, “What we can call upon right now is limited to just so many people. Long peace brings its own atrophy. One can only hope this war jolts people at every level into alertness and produces a few capable people who can actually be used.”
“Yes.”
Wang Yunhe truly was a principled man. Ill as he was, he still appeared before the Emperor and recommended keeping Marquis Zheng in command while dispatching General Leng to assist — he never once seized on the moment to propose recalling Marquis Zheng for rest.
Zheng Xi could not help feeling genuine admiration for this portly old man. Had the positions been reversed, he was not sure he himself would have had that kind of magnanimity.
Zheng Xi had been hoping day and night for news that Marquis Zheng had recovered. Instead, the Emperor summoned him and Wang Yunhe to announce that he intended to appoint an additional Prime Minister.
Wang Yunhe did not object to Dou Peng; at this juncture, Zheng Xi was also in no position to object. The Emperor issued the edict, and Dou Peng entered the Council of State while continuing to concurrently hold his post as Minister of Revenue.
After becoming a Prime Minister, Dou Peng became considerably more generous in his supply allocations for the front line. Before, he had always asked a few extra questions before releasing anything; now he still asked the same questions, but was somewhat more liberal with the amounts.
The expense was not wasted. In the seventh month, a victory report arrived.
Marquis Zheng had ordered both flanking armies to take the offensive. With the soldiers reorganized and supply lines holding firm, they achieved significant results.
The victory report, arriving when it did, immediately suppressed the news of Marquis Zheng’s illness. The Emperor was greatly pleased. He conferred an honorary rank upon Zheng Chuan, held a palace banquet for the court’s hundred officials, and issued an edict commending and encouraging Marquis Zheng — commanding him to drive the campaign until the northern tribesmen were so afraid of the imperial might that they sued for peace.
Emperor and officials alike had been starved of good news for quite some time. Most of them drank until pleasantly flushed. The Emperor too felt the wine somewhat, and leaning on the attendants for support, made his way toward the back palace to rest.
He had recently granted a formal title to a beloved concubine — gentle and biddable, with an endearing habit of small, harmless caprices that suited him entirely. He had barely reached the entrance to her quarters when a rapid set of footsteps made him turn and look.
It was Hao Dafang: “Your Majesty! His Highness the Crown Prince requests that you come to the front hall.”
“Mm?”
“The Chief Ministers have received a memorial. Seeing that Your Majesty had already retired to the inner quarters, they did not dare push through — so His Highness sent this servant to request that Your Majesty return.”
The Emperor was in good spirits and said, “Lead the way.”
The imperial litter turned and followed Hao Dafang back, the whole party returning to the front hall.
The Crown Prince, the Prime Ministers, General Leng, and others were all there, each with a grave expression. The Emperor was still slightly flushed and did not particularly notice. He said vaguely, “What is the matter?”
Zheng Xi knelt on the spot: “Your Majesty — this minister’s father is gravely ill.”
The Emperor’s wine cleared half away in an instant. “What?”
Zheng Xi repeated it. Tears ran down his face. He looked up at the Emperor and said with sincerity, “That was in open court, Your Majesty. Once rumors had spread, how could the morale of the army and the people hold? At such a critical moment, how could we show weakness? Even when something must be handled, it must be handled quietly. This minister has longed to go personally and tend to his father — and yet could only force himself to bear it.”
General Leng added, “Just so. The northern cavalry come and go like the wind — the moment morale slips, they will seize upon it.”
The Emperor asked the Crown Prince, “What do you think?”
The Crown Prince thought for a moment and said, “What Chief Minister Zheng says is reasonable. What if we quietly dispatched an imperial physician?”
The Emperor said, “Very well — you all go and arrange it.”
Zheng Xi quickly expressed his gratitude on behalf of Marquis Zheng and hurried out to make the arrangements.
General Leng had expected the Emperor to keep him for consultation. Seeing no such inclination, he could only leave together with Zheng Xi. The hall was left with only the Emperor and Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince waited until the others were well out of earshot, then said to the Emperor, “Their reason for concealing this was half for the public good — and half for private benefit.”
The Emperor, having been managed by these great ministers for several years now, had sharpened his perception of such things, and said, “Of course. But as long as they can win decisively and frighten the northern tribesmen into seeking peace on their own, I can afford to let it pass.”
The Crown Prince had always felt that Zhù Ying was a person of real depth, and could never quite understand how his father had arrived at the conclusion that Zhù Ying was “simple-minded.” But since Zhù Ying’s way of handling affairs was reliably reassuring, the Crown Prince chose not to push back.
The Crown Prince had another thought he wanted to raise: “Father, should Marquis Zheng suffer some misfortune, Chief Minister Zheng would have to observe mourning. With Chief Minister Wang also ill, the Council of State cannot be left short-handed — should we not add someone?”
The Emperor said, “Who do you think is suitable?”
The Crown Prince said, “I am young and see things too shallowly — it must be Father who decides. So long as the person can actually get things done. It would be best if they did not simply argue endlessly without accomplishing anything.”
The Emperor was in full agreement: “Alas — if only Ministers Liu and Shi were still here. Well, never mind — Dou Peng, then.”
The Crown Prince considered Minister Dou briefly — nothing particularly wrong with the choice. Not the most brilliant, but capable of holding things steady. He said, “As long as it meets Father’s wishes.”
The Emperor said, “As the Son of Heaven, how can I act purely on personal preference? It must be someone fitting for governing the realm. You must remember this — do not act recklessly.”
The Crown Prince respectfully received the instruction.
On Zheng Xi’s side, an imperial physician was chosen and dispatched north, and a messenger was sent to Zhù Ying as well.
“What nonsense is this?!” one scholar-type figure was saying. “When has Zhù Zizhang ever commanded troops? If it were about pacifying the north, I might say nothing. But stand in for Marquis Zheng? If the campaign is won, the troops should be pulled back. If major battles are still ahead, capable generals should be selected and sent! What kind of arrangement is this — letting Zheng Xi’s follower continue to hold military authority in the north?”
Xian Jing said, “That is going too far! He is no follower of the Zheng family.”
Yu Qingyuan said, “Yet the relationship is decidedly unclear. And he has never shown any particular military talent.”
Xian Jing asked, “The Emperor has approved it, and the Council of State has all signed off — what else is there to be done?”
The first scholar said, “Surely we cannot put everything in one person’s hands, can we? What if… his authority were divided?”
“Hmm?”
The scholar said, “It would also be for his own protection. Authority this heavy creates its own dangers — it would not be good for him either. Count the special appointments he currently holds in the north! I fear it may be a case of rising to the summit only to fall.”
The scholar counted on his fingers one by one. What he listed made Xian Jing break into a cold sweat: “It truly is a difficult situation to walk back from!”
“And he is not yet forty years old,” the scholar added.
This person was Xian Jing’s classmate from the same examination year, now in the capital holding a position in the Academy, and on quite good terms with Xian Jing.
Xian Jing said, “I will go speak to the Chief Minister about it.” Inwardly, though, he was thinking: surely the teacher has seen this himself — why would he agree? Any minister with that kind of authority is difficult to manage.
He went to find Wang Yunhe and sought to understand his view.
Wang Yunhe said, “Since these are special appointments, once the northern tribesmen have sued for peace, the appointments can be dissolved and he can return to the capital. By that time, he will probably be around forty…”
“I am afraid that by then, his power will have taken root, and even His Majesty will find it difficult to keep him in check.”
Wang Yunhe said, “Between the Emperor and his ministers, there should be mutual understanding and mutual trust — not keeping each other ‘in check.’ How can you carry such a thought?”
Xian Jing quickly corrected himself. Wang Yunhe said, “For now, the first priority is dealing with the foreign threat.”
“Yes.”
Xian Jing, on this occasion, took Wang Yunhe’s words to heart and kept his own people in check. But not many days later, an edict issued from the palace: General Leng was to be sent to the front, dividing the front-line forces into two parts — General Leng commanding the eastern route, Zhù Ying standing in for the western route.
When Xian Jing heard this news, he broke into a cold sweat and rushed to find Wang Yunhe and explain himself: “It was not me!”
Wang Yunhe, his eyes sunken back into their sockets, looked at him and said, “I know.”
“But — then who? It surely should not have been Zheng Xi… General Leng…”
Wang Yunhe said, “Stop guessing. It was Mu Chengzhou.”
Xian Jing stared in astonishment: “His Majesty would listen to him?”
Wang Yunhe said, “One only had to say to the Emperor: the authority in Zhù Ying’s hands is too great — it risks making people forget there is a Son of Heaven.”
Xian Jing lowered his voice and asked, “How do you know it was Mu Chengzhou who made the suggestion…”
“The Emperor mentioned it when consulting with the Council of State.”