The moon had been full for several days now, lighting up the ordinary night in mid-June. Beside the sparsely lit city of Ankang, the Han River flowed on quietly. Half the rice in the fields along its banks had already been harvested, and in the army camp stationed nearby, the firelight and the figures of the soldiers looked small and insignificant.
Though the shadow of war loomed near, seen from a distance, this ordinary world and its common people were only passing through another unremarkable day.
Ankang, which bustled with noise during the day, had grown much quieter now under a partial curfew, but the June heat had not yet faded, and most of the city was still filled, to one degree or another, with the smell of fish.
At the hour of xu, lamplight had already come on in an old residence on the western side of the city. A servant opened the windows of the reception hall to let a little of the night air move through. After a while, an old man entered the hall to meet with his guest, and lit a small stick of incense.
“…An honored guest arrives, and the servants, not understanding the gravity of the occasion, have failed in their courtesy…”
“…I have been in Ankang for over ten days now, deliberately concealing my identity, which has nothing to do with anyone else…”
“…A great battle looms in the northeast. You and I stand as enemies, not friends. Doesn’t the general fear being captured, coming here?”
“…Two armies at war do not execute envoys. Lord Dai is a pillar of Confucian scholarship — I suspect he is, for the most part, a man who follows the rules…”
“…The general has some misunderstanding about Confucianism. Ever since Dong Zhongshu banished the other schools of thought in favor of Confucianism alone, so-called Confucian learning has always been round on the outside and square within — a Confucian skin over a Legalist bone. An old thing like myself, if I wished to be unreasonable, would have no shortage of ways to manage it. For instance — though two armies at war do not execute envoys, no one ever said they wouldn’t execute spies…”
“…Lord Dai’s candor is admirable…”
“…The general has ventured here alone and at great risk. There must be a serious matter behind it. Since you and I are already speaking in this private chamber, let us simply discuss the matter itself, without too much roundabout talk.”
The flickering lamplight illuminated the scene in the room; both parties spoke in calm, unhurried tones. The elder of the two was the man now called the Sage of the Present Age, Dai Mengwei. The middle-aged man across from him had a lean, capable face and wore the short jacket of a martial artist of the rivers and lakes — but he was in fact a former officer of the Huaxia Army, now a trusted general serving under Zou Xu in Luoyang, named Ding Songnan. In theory, with the diplomatic maneuvering at the front already underway, he ought to have been holding position at the northern front. Instead, he had unexpectedly turned up here, in a city like Ankang, deep behind enemy lines.
Though he had once been an officer of the Huaxia Army and was now risking his life alone, Ding Songnan’s face showed little sign of unease. Holding his teacup, he said, “My purpose in coming to Ankang is actually simple. I represent General Zou, and I’ve come to discuss cooperation with Lord Dai — or, at the very least, to sound out Lord Dai’s thinking.”
The words were direct. Dai Mengwei’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ve heard… that General Zou went to the Jin region, to discuss cooperation with that Lady Chancellor?”
“One must prepare with both hands. Mr. Ning used to often tell us — peace won through struggle will endure; peace won through compromise will perish. With Lord Dai and Lord Liu eager to march against us, we cannot go in without a plan. General Zou went to the Jin region to purchase weapons, and before leaving, he entrusted me to come see Lord Dai, saying you might be willing to talk, might be willing to form an alliance. I’ve spent over ten days here observing, and Lord Dai’s ability to bring order to such a mess in so short a time is truly worthy of the title Sage of the Present Age.”
“Talk of sagehood is nonsense.” Dai Mengwei waved a hand. “But since you can prepare with both hands, how do I know you haven’t prepared with three or four? Making a deal with the lady in the Jin region on one side, coming to see this old man on the other, and perhaps sending someone to see Lord Liu, or even others still. If we go into the great battle with divided hearts, we’re bound to defeat ourselves without a fight — that too would be a fine piece of scheming.”
Ding Songnan nodded at this and was silent for a moment. “Though General Zou and the rest of us betrayed the Huaxia Army, from the past until today, we’ve always known what sort of man gets things done. Lord Liu isn’t worth planning with — from beginning to end he’s nothing but a man who papers over cracks. But Lord Dai harbors great ambitions, and especially for our side, Lord Dai can fill in a gap that General Zou lacks. What you might call strength joining strength, each side making up for the other’s weakness.”
Dai Mengwei took a sip of tea. “Which gap would that be?”
“The learning that Lord Dai holds — it can give our army a reason to fight.”
“…Is this General Zou’s own thinking?”
Ding Songnan nodded.
“Ordinary men — or someone like Lord Liu — fix their eyes only on the plot of land before them, and at most raise their heads to glance three or five steps ahead. Lord Liu wants to take Bian Liang, and dresses it up beautifully, but in the end it’s only so he’ll have somewhere to retreat to, whether he ends up surrendering or submitting to someone else down the road. Lord Dai is different. From the moment you raised your banner in rebellion, you already understood clearly who the great enemy of the future would be. It’s the same for me, and for General Zou — ever since we broke away, we’ve tossed and turned, unable to sleep…”
“…Then why did you betray them in the first place?”
“Partly, admittedly, a moment of hot-headedness, a wrong step taken. But also… Mr. Ning’s standards and demands were simply too severe. Discipline within the Huaxia Army is iron-strict — meetings, rectification campaigns, top to bottom, on and on. In the pursuit of victory, anyone who couldn’t keep up would be criticized, even cast out. In the past this was the very thing that won the Huaxia Army its victories. But once the one who stumbled was oneself, there was no longer any choice left…” Of course, the Huaxia Army being what it is, we’re hardly the only ones who couldn’t keep pace…”
“…The Western Han text the Book of Rites of the Elder Dai says: water too clear has no fish, a man too discerning has no followers. How true that is.”
“We came out of the Huaxia Army, so we know what it’s really like. Lord Dai, chaotic as the world looks now, with Lord Liu able to rally over a dozen warlords to his banner, in the end only a handful will be able to steady their footing. As things stand, it seems certain the Fairness Party will sweep through the south of the Yangtze, swallowing up petty clowns like Tie Yan and Wu Qimei — the only question left is how well He Wen can hold against the little court in Fuzhou in the southeast. As for the Jin region, the Lady Chancellor is a power unto herself — whether she’ll emerge to contend for the world is hard to say, but no one else seems to have the strength to break in there. And of all the various factions in this world, she may be the only one Mr. Ning has ever looked upon with any particular regard, this woman who never stops striving…”
“Never stops striving…” Dai Mengwei repeated the words.
“That’s the appraisal Mr. Ning gave of her back in the southwest. General Zou heard it with his own ears,” said Ding Songnan. “The relationship between the Jin region and Liangshan is a special one, but no matter how things go, once past the Yellow River, that land will be theirs to divide among themselves. South of the Yellow River, it’s really nothing but Lord Dai, Lord Liu, and ourselves — three sides fighting until one of us emerges the winner…”
He paused. “To be frank, in this coming three-way conflict, though Lord Dai’s and Lord Liu’s forces look formidable in numbers and strength, the odds of victory may actually lean more toward our side. And the reason for that is simply that Liu Guangshi is a general who can only fight when the wind is at his back — a soft, useless commander. He’s fine at gathering various forces under one banner, but he can’t fight a real, hard battle. Among the various sides here, Lord Dai may be clear-headed, but what can you actually do? You’ve only just managed to collect this season’s rice for the war effort — keeping your rear in order alone is probably enough to leave you overwhelmed. And how many soldiers under your command can actually fight? Back when they surrendered to the Jurchens, the dregs that got weeded out — Lord Dai surely knows well enough what quality that leaves you with.”
Dai Mengwei smiled. “Contests on the battlefield aren’t decided by talk — you have to actually fight to know. And besides, if we can’t fight a hard battle, can you? You’ve already betrayed the Huaxia Army.”
“The Huaxia Army can fight mainly because of its discipline, and General Zou has never once let go of that. But all this talk, however elaborate, is a small matter in the end.” Ding Songnan waved a hand. “Lord Dai, no matter how any of this is spoken of, or how it’s fought out — one day, sooner or later, the great army of the Southwest will come pouring out from that direction, and when that day comes, none of the so-called warlords of today, whoever they may be, will be able to stand against it. No one knows better than General Zou and I just how terrifying Mr. Ning truly is. When that day comes, would Lord Dai really want to stand shoulder to shoulder with a useless man like Liu Guangshi, joining hands against a mighty enemy? Or else — however idealistic it might be — suppose you defeat General Zou and myself, and drive out Liu Guangshi, and cleanse yourself of every political rival, and then… rely on these tired old soldiers of yours to stand against the Southwest?”
Ding Songnan tapped a finger on the small table beside him. “Lord Dai, forgive my bluntness — you’re skilled at governing men, but perhaps not so skilled at commanding troops. General Zou, meanwhile, is a man who understands warfare, but for various reasons he’s found it hard to govern men with proper legitimacy. Lord Dai has the Way; General Zou has the Method. South of the Yellow River, if there’s to be a partner worth choosing, for General Zou, Lord Dai here is the only ideal one.”
The reception hall fell silent for a moment; only the faint sound of Dai Mengwei’s cup lid stirring against the rim of his teacup could be heard. After a while the old man spoke. “In the end… you still can’t make use of the Way of the Huaxia Army…”
“Back in his days at Little Cangriver, Mr. Ning set two major directions for development — one, the spiritual; two, the material,” said Ding Songnan. “The so-called spiritual path is to use reading, education, and enlightenment to instill in everyone what might be called subjective initiative — within the army, that means meetings and heart-to-heart talks, remembering past bitterness to savor present sweetness, extolling the superiority of Huaxia — trying to make everyone… work for me and I for everyone, becoming selfless…”
“As for the material path, that’s the so-called theory of Investigating Things — researching equipment, developing military hardware… By Mr. Ning’s own account, if either path could truly be walked to its end, the world would be unbeatable. If the spiritual path could truly be realized, then even tens of thousands of Huaxia soldiers starting from bare hands could wipe out the Jurchens… but that path is too idealistic, and so the Huaxia Army has always walked both lines together. Within the army, discipline is used to bind the soldiers, while on the material side — from the moment Dijiang first appeared, and the Jurchen western route collapsed in ruins, its effect was plain to see…”
“Today, the might of the Huaxia Army is known to all the world, and its only flaw lies in how high its demands are, how unyielding Mr. Ning’s rules remain. But without long practice, no one can say whether that path can be walked through to the end. After General Zou and I broke away from the Huaxia Army, the rules of military discipline could still be reused — but how do we tell the soldiers beneath us what they’re fighting for?” Ding Songnan looked at Dai Mengwei. “Lord Dai, in all the world today, there are only two who could fill that gap — one is the little court in the southeast, the other is Lord Dai here, the Sage of the Present Age.”
Dai Mengwei held his teacup, swirling it absently. “That so-called Fairness Party over in the east does have a philosophy of its own.”
“The theory behind the Fairness Party actually comes from Mr. Ning’s own hand. When General Zou was in the Southwest, he and the others discussed and modeled it out many times. Mr. Ning once said that the purer an ideal is, the more complex and demanding the conditions for realizing it become. We’re convinced the Fairness Party is bound to bring about its own downfall eventually — but before that happens, the more things it does right, the longer it will be able to hold on, and the greater its momentum will grow.”
Dai Mengwei considered this. “So then — the Fairness Party’s ideal is too pure, and Mr. Ning judged it too difficult to carry out, so he doesn’t push it forward himself. The Southwest’s own ideal ranks a step below that, so it’s supplemented with the material path. And my Confucian Way, it seems, ranks a step below even that…”
“The order between ruler and subject, father and son, each has its place — the Confucian Way is a great tradition that has withstood a thousand years of trial; how could it be called a step below anything. It’s simply that men in this world differ in wisdom and in ability, and one cannot force equality upon them all at this moment. Lord Dai, forgive my bluntness — outside the Black Banner, the one Mr. Ning is most wary of is Lord Dai here. And outside the Black Banner, the one who understands the Black Banner most deeply is General Zou. You would rather play along with the Jurchens than stand against the Southwest, and General Zou understands even better what will come of standing against the Southwest one day. In all the world right now, only you hold governance and the people’s livelihood, and only General Zou holds the army and the study of mechanisms. Only by joining these two hands together might something be accomplished in the future. General Zou has no other choice, Lord Dai. Neither do you.”
“…In the end, what Zou Xu and you truly want is to break free of the interference of men like Yin Zong.”
“Yin Zong and his sort are shortsighted and without real strategy — much the same as men like Liu Guangshi. Doesn’t Lord Dai also wish to be free of the constraints of men like Liu Guangshi? Time waits for no one. While you and I circle around Bian Liang scheming our little schemes, the Southwest keeps developing, day after day. Whatever plans we make here would probably look, in Mr. Ning’s eyes, like nothing more than the squabbling of petty clowns. But this one thing — Lord Dai and General Zou joining hands — that alone might just give Mr. Ning a moment’s shock.”
As the two men spoke, a faint commotion could be heard in the distance beyond the courtyard. Dai Mengwei drew a deep breath, rose from his seat, and after a moment’s thought said, “I hear General Ding was not, in fact, a formally ranked field commander in the Huaxia Army.”
Ding Songnan stood as well. “I belonged to the Political Department — mainly overseeing discipline. In truth, once discipline is in place, commanding troops isn’t so difficult.”
“…How many men of your caliber does the Huaxia Army have?”
“…More than you’d think,” Ding Songnan replied.
Dai Mengwei walked to the window and nodded. After a long while, he finally spoke. “…This matter requires careful, long-term consideration.”
The distant commotion grew clearer; someone was shouting in the darkness. Ding Songnan went to the window and listened, brow furrowed. “That’s…”
“A band of rivers-and-lakes types has been trying to kill this old man for about a year now. Their leader is a vicious man called Old Eight. I hear he once went to the Huaxia Army and urged Mr. Ning to have me killed. Mr. Ning refused, so he spat in Ning Yi’s face and came here to act alone.”
Dai Mengwei lowered his head and swirled his teacup. “It really is amusing, in a way. Back then, one wave after another of rivers-and-lakes men went to kill Ning Yi, and one wave after another was cut down by his own designs. Now they’ve come to kill me, and it’s the same story — with just a little scheming, they can’t wait to jump right in. And even though Ning Yi and I can’t stand the sight of each other, even he looks down on this sort of action from them… It shows that when one wishes to accomplish great things in this world, there will always be shortsighted men — and no matter their ideas or their stance, they’re the sort who ought to be swept aside.”
He set down his teacup and looked toward Ding Songnan.
“…Very well. Let’s talk about the plan.”
Under the low-hanging stars, a small disturbance broke out on the streets of western Ankang — a group of bandits slaughtering their way through, fleeing, some cut down where they stood every so often.
The regular troops sent to intercept were few; the ones truly rounding up the bandits were some of the great heroes of the rivers and lakes who had already made names for themselves in this age of chaos. Having received courteous treatment from Dai Mengwei, the Sage of the Present Age, most of them were moved to gratitude and had bowed their heads to him. Now they had set aside old grudges and formed the strongest guard force around Dai Mengwei. This assassination attempt led by Old Eight against Dai Mengwei had, from the very moment it began, already fallen straight into a trap laid in advance.
Just as Dai Mengwei had said, similar scenes had played out many times around Ning Yi’s own person more than ten years earlier, back in Bian Liang. But the same countermeasures, even now, were still enough.
“Old Eight!” A rough voice echoed through the street. “I respect you as a man! Take your own life and spare the brothers at your side—”
The fleeing men were driven into a nearby warehouse; the pursuers closed in from behind, the one calling out advancing while waving his hand to signal his companions to seal off the gaps.
At the street corner behind the warehouse, a burly man sat astride a warhorse, greatbroadsword in hand, closing in swiftly with a few fleet-footed companions. He held his sword and horse steady, eyes fixed on the direction of the warehouse’s back door, where dark shapes had already climbed silently in, trying to force a slaughter. Behind him, someone abruptly shouted, “Who goes there—”
The man on the horse turned to look and saw, on the previously empty street behind them, a cloaked figure suddenly appear, walking toward them. Two of his companions, one with a spear, one with a blade, went to meet the newcomer. In an instant, the cloak flared, a savage flash of blade light rose, and with a few clanging sounds, both companions fell to the ground, tossed aside behind the cloaked figure.
The man with the blade spurred his horse forward to charge — then came a whistling sound and a thud, and he saw a crossbow bolt had already lodged in his chest. The cloak billowed, the figure closing the distance in an instant, a long blade sweeping out in a spray of blood.
Amid the clanging of blades, a young swordsman named You Hongzhuo cut through several of the surrounding pursuers, and a warning firework shot up into the sky. Some time later, explosions began to sound in the street. Having arrived in Huaxia Army territory the previous year, he had won the favor of Lu Hongti at Zhang Village and been fortunate enough to undergo a period of genuine special-forces training, learning to use crossbows, explosives, and even lime powder as weapons to wound and kill.
He had already spent months moving through Dai Mengwei’s territory, uncovering a good deal of the inside picture. As a reward for his training the previous year, he had sent his findings back to the Southwest and had been preparing to leave — but seeing this assassination and the encirclement unfold before him, he finally made his move, attempting to help Old Eight, Jin Chenghu, and the other assassins escape.
What might have been a swiftly concluded fight dragged on because of his intervention, the fighters charging back and forth across the city as the disturbance spread further into the night.
On the city’s northeast side, Ning Ji and a group of scholars climbed onto a rooftop, watching the disturbance in the night with curiosity…
In the courtyard, Dai Mengwei and Ding Songnan continued discussing their important matters. The spread of the disturbance displeased him somewhat, but compared to the heart of what they were discussing, it counted as nothing more than a minor interlude. Not long after, he would send this band of skilled fighters off to Jiangning, to spread their fame.
Countless matters, large and small, unfolded one after another. Even in the history books written many years later, no one would ever piece these fragments together. The many threads of events brushed past one another, unseen…