Chapter 119: Seeking Counsel at the Governor's Office

For two consecutive days, Wei Ba remained in the guesthouse, going nowhere—or, more accurately, unable to go anywhere. Yet, Wei Ba knew that while these two days appeared tranquil, they were anything but. This silent contest was sometimes even more dangerous than a fierce, head-on collision.

At a point like this, any sense of anxiety was useless. He had already done everything he could; all that remained was patient waiting. Just as Prime Minister Zhuge Liang had said, "Man proposes, Heaven disposes." We exert our utmost efforts, and whether we succeed or not depends on whether Heaven still favors the Great Han.

Wei Ba had no particular interest in the fate of the Han. His primary concern now was his own survival, followed by the rise and fall of the Wei family, and only then would he consider whether the Han dynasty might perish.

The rise and fall of the world is a matter for sages like the Prime Minister to ponder. Why should the common people trouble themselves with such things? Even two thousand years later, in the modern society of his past, when did the common man or woman ever have a say in the great affairs of the world?

Wei Ba had to play the role of a mystic. Not only could he not eat his fill, but he also had to feign meditation every day. This had been part of the plan when Zhuge Liang devised their strategy. To this end, Zhuge Liang had specifically brought in two people versed in Taoist arts to tutor Wei Ba. During those days when Wei Ba was locked up with Jin Dongliu, he was frequently interrogated; in truth, the interrogations were a ruse, and the real purpose was to listen to the Taoists lecture.

Despite the training, Wei Ba found it hard to fit into this persona. If nothing else, the daily practice of meditation at noon and midnight left him on the verge of collapse. Setting aside the difficulty of focusing his breath and mind, just sitting motionless for two hours was enough to make him regret it profoundly.

Two hours of sitting cross-legged would make anyone curse. Moreover, in the middle of the night, when everyone else was asleep, he had to force himself to act as if he were enjoying this form of self-torture.

Despite the depression and the regret, Wei Ba persisted. He did not know if anyone was watching him, but he had to act as if they were. As a spy, one must maintain this level of vigilance; there could be no carelessness.

Prime Minister Zhuge Liang called this "caution in solitude." One must never think that they can relax when alone; it is precisely at such times that one must be most careful. "Caution in solitude" is a method of self-reflection from the Confucian school. Wei Ba admired the Prime Minister’s ability to apply Confucian principles to the art of espionage. It was precisely because of this that he had sufficient confidence in the plan. A plan personally drafted by the perpetually cautious Zhuge Liang might not guarantee success, but it would certainly not suffer from low-level errors. As long as he executed the plan as instructed, there shouldn't be any major issues.

On the afternoon of the third day, just as Wei Ba finished his meditation, Xiahou Mao sent someone to invite him over. Wei Ba’s legs were aching and numb, and every step felt like a thousand needles piercing his heart, but he dared not decline and persisted in going.

When Xiahou Mao saw Wei Ba limping, his expression grew strange. He stared at Wei Ba for a long time, his lips twitching as if he wanted to laugh but held it back. "Do you… sit for the noon and midnight meditations every day?"

Wei Ba smiled bitterly. "Not every day. Only in these past two days, since I stopped fleeing, have I resumed the practice. This hardship has to be endured from the beginning."

Xiahou Mao finally could not hold back his laughter. He had sent men to observe Wei Ba for the past two days and discovered that he would meditate at noon and midnight without fail, for exactly two hours each time. What he couldn't understand was why Wei Ba’s legs were always numb afterward—this was not something a long-term practitioner should experience. Hearing Wei Ba’s explanation, he finally understood.

"I see. That is truly difficult for you. Meditation requires years of accumulation; that is why it is called 'gongfu' (skill)," Xiahou Mao sighed, speaking with a sense of empathy. "There are as many Taoists as there are hairs on an ox, yet those who achieve the Way are as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. It is not just a matter of opportunity; it is mostly because people cannot endure the hardship. Meditating at midnight for a day or two, or a month or two, is not hard, but to persist for decades is not something an ordinary person can do."

Wei Ba looked at him with admiration. "General, you are truly wise. My master said the same."

"Is that so? Who is your master?"

"This..." Wei Ba shook his head in distress. "To be honest with you, General, he did not tell me."

Xiahou Mao paused, looking somewhat disappointed, but said nothing. Most people in the Taoist tradition lived in seclusion, so such behavior was normal. It was just a pity that he couldn't meet such a master and ask for guidance.

"My master once said that the highest good is like water; a drop of water can pierce stone, and that is due to 'gongfu.' Gongfu is accumulation; the longer one works at it, the deeper the skill. Only when one reaches the stage of 'sitting and forgetting' can one truly say they have caught a glimpse of the Taoist door."

Xiahou Mao smiled bitterly. Of course, he understood these principles, but he could never persist in them. With beauties at his side, who would spend the middle of the night sitting in a cold room instead of holding a woman?

"Easier said than done." Xiahou Mao suddenly felt a sense of closeness to Wei Ba, speaking to him like a family member. "You are still young and haven't married yet, have you? There are three ways to be unfilial, and having no descendants is the greatest. Before you have heirs, you shouldn't focus too much on Taoist arts."

Wei Ba’s expression dimmed. He was silent for a long time before saying, "I am an unfilial son now. What does it matter whether I have heirs or not? Meditating to cultivate the mind is merely one thing; it is also a way to pray for my parents and express my meager feelings."

Xiahou Mao felt a pang of heartache. Although he was fond of Taoism and beauty and lacked great talent, his heart was not evil, and his filial piety toward his parents was no less than anyone else's. Wei Ba had defected, unable to care for his parents, while Xiahou Mao’s parents had already passed away—the pain of wanting to provide for one's parents but finding them gone was a feeling he shared.

"Don't be too sad. Fathers and sons, brothers serving different masters—this is common. Didn't Zhuge Liang’s own brothers serve different masters? Rest assured, as long as you are loyal to our Great Wei, who is to say you won't make a name for yourself and carry on your family line? Our Great Wei has a wise ruler above and virtuous ministers below; the unification of the world is within reach. The day you reunite with your father will not be far off. Young man, have some ambition; don't act like a sentimental child."

"Thank you for your encouragement, General." Wei Ba sniffled and wiped away his tears.

Xiahou Mao nodded with satisfaction. Under the urging of Xiahou Hui, he had finally put some effort into his official duties these past two days. Upon reviewing the accumulated documents, he realized that Wei Ba—if the person before him was indeed Wei Ba—was not merely the son of Wei Yan. He was only nineteen, yet he was already the youngest military advisor in the Prime Minister’s office, and a powerful one at that. In the recent Battle of Fangling, it was he who had led a surprise force to repel Sima Yi, causing him to retreat in disgrace. Sima Yi’s failed surprise attack had become evidence of his reckless and unskillful command; had the Emperor not insisted, Sima Yi would have already been stripped of his title as General of the Household Cavalry.

The nearly fifty-year-old Sima Yi had been defeated by this young man who wasn't even twenty. This alone was enough to prove that he had found a treasure. At this moment, without anyone reminding him, Xiahou Mao understood why Jin Dongliu refused to reveal Wei Ba’s identity—Xiahou Mao was certain that Jin Dongliu knew who he was, as he had been captured by Wei Ba himself. How could he not recognize him? Thinking of this, Xiahou Mao was furious, and he even filed a complaint against Jin Dongliu to the Emperor.

For him, two things were now paramount: first, proving that Wei Ba was indeed the Wei Ba, and second, bringing him into his service. He had already sent men to investigate the first, and he expected news soon. The difficulty lay in the second: Wei Ba had repeatedly stated he would not fight his father and did not even want to stay in Chang'an, wishing instead to go to Luoyang to join Zhang Lu. Would he be willing to serve him?

Xiahou Mao adopted a roundabout strategy, deciding to soften Wei Ba up first. Taoist arts were a common topic between them. With a shared interest, the two could communicate more frequently. Thus, after two days of secret observation, Xiahou Mao decided to grant Wei Ba an audience to begin formal engagement.

Seeing Wei Ba’s sorrow and tears, Xiahou Mao felt a sense of achievement. When a person can reveal their inner thoughts to another, to the point of tears, it at least indicates that their guard has been lowered and their heart opened.

Although he wanted to ask immediately what plan Zhuge Liang intended to use to attack Guanzhong, he restrained himself. Xiahou Hui had repeatedly warned him that these topics should not be brought up too early to avoid causing resistance. It was better to win him over with emotion and wait for Wei Ba to speak voluntarily. Although Xiahou Hui was his junior, Xiahou Mao trusted her implicitly and followed her advice. So, despite his burning curiosity, he kept those words hidden and chatted aimlessly with Wei Ba.

"You mentioned you have some insights into Taoist arts. May I have the honor of hearing them?"

Wei Ba bowed. "General, you are busy with military affairs; do you still have time to study Taoism?"

Xiahou Mao smiled reservedly. "Not necessarily. The way of civil and military affairs is like a bow—tension and relaxation must alternate. To command troops with mere tactics is to be busy yet ineffective. To command with the 'Tao' is to be in control of the situation."

"Your insight is profound, General." Wei Ba praised him, then hesitated, looking embarrassed. "Actually, these insights of mine are merely my own personal thoughts. I hold them dear, but in your eyes, General, they might not be worth mentioning."

"Since we have nothing better to do, let's hear them," Xiahou Mao said with a wave of his hand, appearing indifferent.

Wei Ba inwardly laughed, thinking that his father had understood this opponent he had never met better than he thought. Zhuge Liang had been stationed in Hanzhong for nearly a year, and with such a massive mobilization, anyone could see that a great war was imminent. Yet, this General of the West had the leisure to discuss Taoism with him. If he wasn't deliberately probing, then he was truly a man ignorant of military affairs. With such a man guarding Chang'an, it was a heaven-sent opportunity for Shu-Han. No wonder Zhuge Liang’s first Northern Expedition was so smooth; it was only when the veteran Zhang He appeared and Ma Su lost Jieting that the situation reversed, leading to a retreat without success.

Anyone with even a shred of common sense would not ignore Zhuge Liang like this. Even if Zhuge Liang were merely a scholar who had never fought a battle, the army of one hundred thousand was real, wasn't it? One should at least make minimal preparations.

This time, it was the best opportunity; he must not let it slip.

Wei Ba made a secret resolution. He coughed, feigned a lack of confidence, and said slowly, "Dare I tell you, General, after studying the Tao, I followed Laozi’s principle: 'Man follows the Earth, Earth follows Heaven, Heaven follows the Tao, and the Tao follows Nature.' I spent much time observing the myriad things of Heaven and Earth and discovered some very strange numbers. I feel that the Great Tao of Heaven and Earth is, in fact, the Tao of numbers."