The sky hung dark and overcast, and snow began falling once more.

In December, Jun Wu returned from Lianjiang. When Zhou Pei entered the palace and saw him, he was sitting in a snow-covered pavilion, going through memorials.

Outside the palace, following the failed attempt to assassinate the emperor, the reckoning against several of Fujian’s great clans — including the Bao and Pu families — had already begun.

Zhou Pei brought a cushion and set it beneath her brother, then sat down herself.

“When you do something like this, why not tell me beforehand?”

“I wasn’t even certain they’d actually move.” Still going over the memorials, Jun Wu paused, then went back to writing as usual. “But it turns out chaos really does breed its heroes — plenty of people wanted to strike first, so it’s just as well Lord Zuo and the others had been shadowing me for those days.”

Dressed in pale yellow, Zhou Pei sat there for a good while, watching her brother — mustache now grown in, quietly writing away — before finally speaking.

“For the Bao and Pu families to do something like this is treasonous beyond measure, and the elder statesmen at court have already nodded their approval to move against them. But having come this far, no one here is a fool. Jun Wu… our Zhou clan, with nowhere else to turn, it really was the people of Fujian who took us in, and at first, they meant well by it too…”

Jun Wu set down his brush. “For the Wu dynasty to be revived, it was always bound to mean breaking down the old order — appointing new officials, breaking the grip the old Confucians and great clans held over the army and the government. And so the conflict that came with it was set the moment we chose to reform, from day one. Sister, if we hadn’t acted this year, we might still have been able to smooth things over a little longer, but next year, something was bound to happen regardless… Of course, this time I’d simply made preparations. That they’d actually dare to move — that surprised even me.”

Jun Wu’s tone remained calm, and by the end he even smiled faintly, evidently unable to help feeling a certain satisfaction over how this had gone. Zhou Pei gave a complicated sort of smile in turn.

“Thunder and rain alike are the sovereign’s grace to bestow — if you’ve thought it through clearly, then so be it. Only, Jun Wu, from this moment on, you’ve shown your ruthlessness. If we ever lose again after this, no one will take us in — and then you and I, brother and sister, will have no choice but to die together for the state.”

Saying this, she reached out one hand and took hold of the back of her brother’s hand. Jun Wu turned his hand over and clasped hers in return, thought a moment, and smiled.

“These past years, the Wu dynasty has run from Bianliang to Lin’an, from Lin’an out to sea, and from the sea to here. Our Zhou clan’s failure of virtue has brought hardship on the whole realm. If this road doesn’t work out either, then so be it — no more running. I’ve already given my word on this to General Yue and the others.”

This coup involving the Fujian gentry appeared, on the surface, to have been put down with little fuss, and brother and sister had held the moral high ground throughout — but in truth it carried decisive implications for the future path of the southeastern court. From the moment Zhou Pei chose to handle the Fujian gentry under the charge of “treason,” whatever remained of the legitimate authority and practical benefit passed down from the Wu dynasty’s orthodox line was, from that point on, entirely spent. From here on, there might still be great Confucian scholars who came to pledge their loyalty, but any clan out in the provinces with real local power would likely never again easily welcome an emperor like Jun Wu. Brother and sister had, from this point, already entered a state of no return.

The real psychological pressure weighing on Zhou Pei these past few days had likely come from exactly this. Talking with her brother now, seeing his composed, unruffled manner, Zhou Pei relaxed and laughed, letting out a breath — and then heard Jun Wu say:

“Actually, there’s no need to think of it that way. If, someday, there’s truly no way forward, I’ll have Wenhuai take you to the southwest to seek refuge with the teacher. If we can’t build an imperial legacy, we can at least keep our lives.”

Zhou Pei’s expression shifted subtly. She watched her brother’s manner for a moment, then withdrew her hand and gave the back of his own a light pat. “After making such a mess of things, you’d still want to go bother people in the southwest? I don’t want to go be looked down on by anyone.”

“What are you talking about?” Jun Wu smiled. “The teacher would never look down on either of us.”

“How would you know that. The last time you saw him, back in Jiangning, you were still a little runt. The last time I saw him, back in Bianliang, I was still a naive little girl who understood nothing. Almost twenty years now — the world has changed, people have changed, and you and I have seen more than our share of fortunes rise and fall…”

As Zhou Pei said this, her words came faster, and her eyes, without her quite meaning it, took on a cold, distant look. Jun Wu smiled and reached his hand out again.

“Just as you say, sister — when we parted, you and I were still children. A man like the teacher — how could he fail to look after two children…”

“I’m no child. I was married off the moment I came back. You’re the child here — and even if he doesn’t show it on his face, everyone else in the southwest certainly will…” Zhou Pei’s rebuttal came fast.

“It’s all the same.” Jun Wu said, holding her hand, then paused briefly. “Speaking of which, Wenhuai’s told me a great deal about the teacher. You wouldn’t know it, sister, but he’s just as amusing as ever — no airs at all with his own people, always cracking jokes — but with his enemies, well, that’s a different story entirely, misery for anyone who crosses him. Wenhuai told me about how he dressed down Nianhan on the front lines at Zizhou, and it reminded me of the way he once dealt with the Wu family, sister—”

Zhou Pei laughed, giving her brother’s hand a squeeze. “Look at you now — where’s that resolve to smash the cauldrons and sink the boats from a moment ago gone? Jun Wu, if you’re always thinking that once you lose you’ll just run off to the southwest, you and I really might end up dying for the state after all.”

“…Sister’s right about that.” Having said this, Jun Wu paused for a moment, startled by his own words, then let out a quiet sigh. “Is there anything else major happening out there?”

“The elder statesmen have given their approval for what you’ve done, and they’ll help calm public opinion outside as well. Lord Chen Minxue submitted a memorial today, and also spoke with me privately, suggesting we open a special-grace class at the military academy right away, letting the Fujian gentry families who did not take part in the rebellion each nominate several young men to enroll as soon as possible. This would also serve to make our position clear — that what we want are capable people to get things done, not necessarily to shut out the sons of great clans. I think it’s a very good idea of his.”

“That’s a good thing.” Jun Wu thought it over, his gaze shifting, then slowly nodded. “As for this trip, I acted somewhat on impulse — I wasn’t entirely sure of things, and had only prepared for how to defeat an attack. Afterward, at Lianjiang, questioning the prisoners took some time, and I got a bit carried away with myself. Lord Zuo had his hands full writing letters to reassure various parties right away, Master Cheng was handling calculations… To really get things done properly, it seems we really do need these elder statesmen after all…”

Having long modeled himself on the teacher in the southwest, bold and forward-driving, he had, even while showing gratitude to the Confucian scholars and working to appease and win them over, in truth grown rather neglectful of them once his own position had strengthened. This time, having sensed some warning signs, he had taken the risk of going out on this trip, and afterward, with a force of over two hundred, had defeated more than a thousand attackers in a resounding victory, killing for the first time on the battlefield — truly the most stirring, high-spirited moment of his life, and, as a sovereign, indeed a magnificent move.

With heroes like Cheng Zhouhai and Zuo Wenhuai supporting him, with Yue Fei and Han Shizhong anchoring the army, and now, with Zhou Pei having placated the assembled scholars and ministers at Fuzhou and given her approval to his actions, this power-seizing move of Jun Wu’s was now all but assured of success. His heart brimmed with satisfaction; while at Lianjiang he had even taken the hot springs a few times to celebrate, and had gone on to plan out a great many arrangements. But only now, back at Fuzhou, did he realize his approach hadn’t been as thorough as it might have been.

“In the past, the great clans always placed heavy weight on classical learning, and were deeply resistant to talk like ‘honor the ruler, expel the barbarians,’ which is why the military academy could only draw its recruits from the army and from the lower classes. This time, having struck the two clans that stuck their necks out, and freed up positions below for others, the rest of them should now understand the importance of the military academy going forward — this is exactly the moment to bring them in and win them over… I was slow on the uptake, not to have thought of this right away…”

As he spoke, half to himself, in a low voice, Jun Wu went on: “Once we’ve brought in sons from all the various clans, they’ll naturally find it easy to band together and look out for one another, and that’s likely to create friction with the sons of military families and humble backgrounds who are already there. So whether this special-grace class should be kept as a separate cohort, or mixed in with everyone else — that needs some thought. Let’s ask Wenhuai about the details later. As for the elder statesmen, I’d like to arrange to have them over for dinner, speak with them heart to heart, and while we’re at it, encourage more of their family’s young men to enroll in the academy. What do you think, sister?”

Zhou Pei smiled. “You’re bold and driving forward, and the elder statesmen at court are both gratified and a little frightened by it. Gratified, because the Wu dynasty finally has a sovereign capable of such drive; frightened, because you’re headstrong enough that they worry you’ve truly picked up the southwest’s extremism and mean to wipe out the Confucians, even the great clans, entirely… That you can show this kind of restraint now, they’re bound to be reassured.”

“The teacher hasn’t even worked out how to be rid of Confucianism himself — how could someone of my middling talent be so arrogant as to attempt it. It’s just that the old men are used to trying to cover every angle, and many even cling stubbornly to the outdated — to break through, the young are simply more useful. Truth be told, how could I not wish for a relationship of mutual trust between sovereign and minister with these elder statesmen too.” Jun Wu smiled. “It’s just that the times being what they are, someone in a weak position has no choice but to take a gamble.”

Watching her brother, Zhou Pei had, in truth, had a great deal more to say when she’d come to see him — for instance, about the sheer recklessness of meeting an attack of over a thousand with just over two hundred men, something that, whenever she thought back on it, filled her with belated fear. But seeing the high spirits on her brother’s face just now, and hearing his final remark, Zhou Pei found she could, after all, understand what was in his heart. She gave the back of his hand a squeeze.

“From now on, when there’s a risk to take, let others take it as much as you can.” She said only this, simply.

“I know.” Jun Wu smiled and nodded. “Though, really, it only sounds dangerous in hindsight, sister — you don’t know this, but after half a year of training at the military academy, backed up by Zuo Wenhuai and the others, two hundred against a thousand really was like cutting through melons and vegetables. I’d assumed the retainers they’d sent out would surely be their most trusted, elite men, but as it turned out, the moment we pushed forward we cut straight through them — in the end, it comes down to this: people trained differently really are different. Those who’ve been through the military academy, learning from Zuo Wenhuai and the others, truly are on another level…”

In the pavilion with light snow drifting down, as if sensing the worry in his sister’s heart, Jun Wu smiled as he recounted the events of that day, his words coming faster and faster, almost childlike. Zhou Pei hadn’t seen her brother like this in a long while, and after a moment, she too began to laugh.

After a while, Zuo Wenhuai was summoned to discuss recruitment for the military academy, and Zhou Pei still had the dinner with the various elder statesmen to arrange, so she took her leave after chatting only briefly. Passing through the swirling snow, she found herself recalling what her brother had just said, about seeking refuge in the southwest if the road ahead ever proved impassable.

In the blink of an eye, nearly twenty years had slipped by. The young girl she had once been had long since lived through a tangled, complicated world, and that old teacher of hers — once so lazily indifferent as to seem almost detestable — had by now, too, lived through countless battles. Like each of those great established clans, like each of those worldly-wise old Confucians, the thoughts turning in people’s minds were no longer the simple notions of the past.

If they were to meet again someday, what would it be like?

The carriage pulled out of the palace, passing through streets swept with wind and snow. Zhou Pei sat in a corner of the carriage, quietly recalling herself as she had last been, back in Bianliang.

She had already come to live in this complicated world.

Not long after, she received an even more complicated report from that same complicated world.

Liu Guangshi was knocked out. Dai Mengwei and Zou Xu had joined forces, and in the name of the Wu dynasty’s old ministers, had retaken Bianliang.

……

Countless people were drifting, sinking and rising, through this cruel world.

That winter, while the southwest carried out its new land policy, the Central Plains were battered by an even more bitter snow.

As the heavy snow fell, the fighting around Bianliang saw a brief pause.

Leading an army styled as eight hundred thousand strong, though in truth still exceeding three hundred thousand, marching north, Liu Guangshi, with the advantage of numbers and elite weapons bought from the southwest, had swept forward like a scythe through dry grass, driving deep through the entire autumn and sweeping across half the Central Plains. By the time the heavy snow fell, he had already reached the walls of Bianliang, drawn his encirclement tight, and begun the process of siege and calls for surrender.

Throughout the war, Zou Xu, at a clear disadvantage, had shifted his forces, taken several bold gambles — outflanking maneuvers, surprise raids — each attack displaying considerable military skill. But Liu Guangshi, with his commanding presence and superior weaponry, had withstood every surprise assault; even with the occasional minor defeat, the allied army as a whole continued, on the larger battlefield, to steadily take cities and seize territory.

Throughout this campaign, staff officers sent from the Huaxia Army had also offered a great deal of genuine insight on how to deal with Zou Xu.

Having spent the money, Liu Guangshi had truly begun to feel his own strength.

And yet the judgment of fate arrived with striking suddenness — and yet, in its own way, it seemed entirely natural.

Just as he was directing the fighting at the front, on the verge of completing the final step in reclaiming the Central Plains, Dai Mengwei, under the banner of a “sage,” had been quietly organizing behind the lines. He had first invited various figures from within the allied forces to visit and inspect his own territory, to see for themselves his ability to govern the region in orderly fashion according to Confucian principles, and had then selected certain individuals for private persuasion.

In November, he led his own disciples along with more than thirty thousand troops under his command originally responsible for logistics and garrison duty, together with Xiao Zheng and Xiao Pingbao of Hanyang, in an attack on the supply route Liu Guangshi’s great army had arranged for itself.

This “Confucian sage,” who appeared to excel only at diplomatic maneuvering, showed, when it came to acting, a decisiveness like a thunderbolt, and the troops under his command likewise displayed, to a certain degree, formidable fighting quality. With Liu Guangshi’s supply route cut off, Dai Mengwei, braving the wind and snow, protected only by a small mounted escort, personally went to persuade several allied commanders holding key positions.

His pitch was not complicated — he simply laid the situation out plainly, made clear that Liu Guangshi was a man of great ambition but little talent, who had only ever known how to angle for advantage, and then explained the benefits of combining the Confucians’ reputation with Zou Xu — of the entire realm, feared everywhere for the Huaxia Army’s might, the one man who might now, a rung below them, be thoroughly understood without being nearly as harsh as the southwest, was none other than Zou Xu of Bianliang. Zou Xu had the strength but lacked legitimacy; Dai Mengwei commanded the hopes of all Confucian scholars under heaven; the combination of the two was, in the future, the most likely path forward.

As for following Liu Guangshi, everyone knew it amounted to nothing more than a rabble huddling together for warmth. In an age this harsh, everyone would sooner or later have to find a new path.

Dai Mengwei’s argument was tremendously persuasive.

Over the preceding period, Liu Guangshi had promoted Dai Mengwei as a banner-man of Confucian learning, giving him extensive publicity within the army, and the effects of that were now on display.

Just as Dai Mengwei, in the guise of “today’s sage,” pressed forward from the south, at Bianliang’s walls, Zou Xu was, every single day, whipping up an ever more fervent call to arms — war drums thundering, growing louder and more intense with each passing day.

In late November, when Bianliang’s gates swung open and Zou Xu led his troops out like a charging tiger, the several hundred thousand men under Liu Guangshi’s command either surrendered or broke and fled in panic. All around Bianliang, chaos erupted once more.

The army scattered and fled in every direction, and Liu Guangshi himself slipped away under cover of night.

Zou Xu led the pursuit, refusing to let up.

On the evening of November 27th, as light snow began to fall, Zou Xu, fresh from the great battle, met with Dai Mengwei, newly arrived from the south, outside the great tent at the camp. Zou Xu had a dignified, upright bearing, his gaze calm and reserved; Dai Mengwei, in a long scholar’s robe, stood ramrod straight, his lips pressed tight, several chieftains of the newly submitted forces trailing behind him.

Introduced by Ding Songnan, this was the two men’s first meeting. After a brief exchange of pleasantries and introductions, the group entered the great tent, where Dai Mengwei said, “Have you captured Liu Pingshu?”

“I was just about to bring that up.” Zou Xu smiled, without offering further explanation, but everyone could faintly hear a shouting coming from outside the tent.

The shouted curses soon grew clearer — it was unmistakably Liu Guangshi. Before long, this once-formidable warlord, still clad in armor, was dragged into the tent bound hand and foot. He bore no serious wounds; he still even wore an iron helmet on his head. The moment he entered the tent and saw the assembled group, his eyes turned bloodshot, and his cursing grew even more vicious — starting off accusing people of ingratitude, but soon degenerating into airing others’ private dirty laundry, foul remarks like “Xiao Zheng, your wife’s been had by your own nephew” spilling out again and again. Had the two soldiers beside him not been holding him down with all their strength, he might well have lunged at the assembled crowd right then and there.

Zou Xu watched all this with a smile, while Dai Mengwei frowned at him, his own gaze calm as well. After a while, Zou Xu spoke.

“Lord Dai is truly worthy of being called today’s sage — one call and all rally to answer. If not for Lord Dai’s help today, it would have been hard to take this wretch alive. But he’s making such a racket, it’s rather unseemly — why doesn’t Lord Dai… see this business through to the end?”

As Zou Xu spoke, he drew a dagger from inside his robe and held it in his hand. Dai Mengwei turned to look at him; Zou Xu returned the look with a smile, and after a moment, added, “Or perhaps Lord Dai is too benevolent, too much a gentleman who keeps his distance from the kitchen, and would rather have someone else do it for him?”

The two disciples who most closely accompanied Dai Mengwei stepped forward as if to intervene, but at that moment the old man slowly raised a hand. “General Zou speaks rightly. This old man will do it himself.”

He took the dagger and walked toward Liu Guangshi. Liu Guangshi cursed viciously, struggling even harder, and Zou Xu said, “Don’t let him hurt Lord Dai.” The soldiers beside him forced Liu Guangshi down onto his knees.

Dai Mengwei stepped in front of Liu Guangshi and drew the dagger. Liu Guangshi was still struggling violently, shouting, “Look me in the eye, you have the guts, look me in the eye! Come on then! Come on—”

Dai Mengwei bent slightly, his gaze calm as he looked at him, and then said, “I’m looking. Now please, Lord Liu, stop thrashing about.”

Liu Guangshi’s struggling had bordered on frenzied up to that point, but hearing these words from Dai Mengwei, he found himself, despite everything, startled into a brief pause. He opened his mouth. “You… you old cur, you…” — and for a moment couldn’t find the words for a proper curse.

Dai Mengwei thrust the dagger forward. Liu Guangshi, encased in armor, threw his body backward with all his strength, thrashing wildly to dodge the blade in Dai Mengwei’s hand, but Dai Mengwei kept his eyes on him, and then, slowly but resolutely, drove the dagger in through the gap in his armor at the neck. Blood, thick and crimson, gushed and sprayed from the gap; Liu Guangshi’s body convulsed violently, blood staining Dai Mengwei’s arm and robe.

The onlookers watched all this in silence; even Zou Xu narrowed his eyes slightly, seemingly startled himself at the sight of this seemingly frail old man taking a life so slowly and so resolutely.

Not long after, Dai Mengwei pulled out the dagger and handed it to one of the disciples beside him. Xiao Zheng, who had risen up alongside Dai Mengwei, snatched a blade from a nearby soldier and, with one stroke, took Liu Guangshi’s head off. The others came forward one by one after him, each landing a further blow or two on Liu Guangshi’s corpse.

Zou Xu took a handkerchief and handed it to Dai Mengwei to wipe away the blood, then spread his hands wide in a gesture of wholehearted admiration.

“Lord Dai, please, take the seat of honor.”

Before winter was even over, word of what had happened here had already spread across the entire realm, and countless people suddenly found themselves recalling something that had once happened back in Jiangning: that if the day ever came when Dai Mengwei retook Bianliang, he would invite every hero and talent under heaven to gather together and found the “China Martial Arts Assembly,” and take part together in this grand undertaking.

At the great gathering in Jiangning, many people had even mocked Dai Mengwei’s talk back then as nothing but idle pie-in-the-sky fancy — but now, at this moment, all those threads laid down long before had finally come together. From the moment he sent an envoy to Jiangning in the second half of the year, this Confucian sage had already foreseen everything that would unfold half a year later.

Ever since saving several million lives from the hands of the Jurchens, this was the moment he once again became the most brilliant figure of the entire second year of Wuzhenxing.

Master of maneuvering and alliance, moving as if by the hand of the divine.

By the way, let me recommend a book I’ve been reading lately, I Shall Bury the Gods. The romantic subplot is quite good — a rare find on Qidian these days for that kind of thing. I’m in a bit of a reading slump lately, so if you’ve got any web novels with good romance and slice-of-life writing, please recommend some to me too ^_^