Chapter 128: Offering Oneself to Feed the Tiger

Xiahou Mao offered his foot bath bucket, changed the water, and respectfully removed the princess's shoes and socks, gently placing her feet into the warm water.

He then took a seat in Wei Ba's chair, wearing a flattering smile as he faced the princess. “Your Highness, how do you feel?”

The Han people traditionally sat on their knees, and no matter how accustomed one was, sitting for an entire day inevitably brought aching legs. Women, fond of wearing wooden clogs, often experienced discomfort on their soles as well. Now, seated in Wei Ba’s newly designed high-backed chair with her feet immersed in warm water emitting a faint herbal fragrance that refreshed the spirit, even if it were just plain hot water, the opening of pores and the easing of soreness was enough to make Princess Qinghe sigh with contentment, scarcely paying attention to Xiahou Mao.

Xiahou Mao’s favored concubines had been living in constant fear these past days, unable to sleep soundly, dreading the moment Princess Qinghe might summon them to lose their heads. Now, given the chance to get close to the princess—and possibly save their lives—this was a godsend. They wouldn’t hesitate to massage her feet with utmost care, even if it meant using their tongues, they would comply without hesitation.

Though novices, they applied themselves diligently. Once the princess’s legs and feet had softened in the warm water, they cradled her feet in their arms and kneaded them with far greater devotion than when attending to Xiahou Mao himself. When the massage reached a satisfying point, Princess Qinghe could no longer hold back a soft moan, leaning back into the chair. Had she not gripped the armrests tightly, she might have slipped off entirely.

Seeing the princess so thoroughly enjoying herself, Xiahou Mao exhaled in relief. This hurdle was essentially overcome. The thought that Wei Ba had solved such a significant problem for him filled his heart with joy.

True talent—this was the real talent. What use is skill in battle? The true talent lies in resolving the domestic affairs of one’s leaders.

At this moment, Wei Ba was in the next room, discussing the geometry of circles with Xiahou Hui, unaware of Xiahou Mao’s inner thoughts. Yet he could hear the princess’s delighted moans and knew that the matter was settled, which only made his explanations flow more smoothly.

Xiahou Hui sat in the inner chamber; Wei Ba was in the outer room. Between them stood a lacquered screen. Though less than a step apart, they could not see one another, only hear each other’s voices. Papers inscribed with diagrams were passed back and forth by Peng Xiaoyu, who also provided explanations for some of the more basic principles.

The geometry of circles was not inherently complicated, but the calculations were. Each step required recalculating, often involving squares and square roots, consuming much time. Wei Ba mostly sat quietly, listening to Xiahou Hui and Peng Xiaoyu discuss the steps in hushed tones.

Though intelligent, Xiahou Hui’s understanding of mathematics was limited. So before delving into circle geometry, Wei Ba first taught her the Pythagorean theorem and the methods of squaring and rooting numbers. The conclusion of the three-three, four-four, five-five triangle was not complex; anyone who had studied the “Nine Chapters” would grasp it. Yet proving the theorem was a challenge. In fact, it was only during the Three Kingdoms period that Chinese mathematicians began attempting to prove the Pythagorean theorem.

Knowledge requires accumulation. No matter how clever Xiahou Hui was, her experience could not compare with Wei Ba’s. What seemed simple to Wei Ba appeared almost magical to Xiahou Hui, especially the chord diagram that proved the Pythagorean theorem—an exquisite manifestation of profound simplicity that left her in awe.

After a long moment of contemplation, Xiahou Hui’s voice, tinged with admiration, came from behind the screen: “Lord Wei, your mastery of mathematics is unparalleled.”

Wei Ba smiled softly. “Mathematics is the foundation of all learning, a powerful tool to study heaven and earth. I have merely devoted more time to it; to claim to be unparalleled is beyond me.”

Xiahou Hui furrowed her brow slightly. “Lord Wei, why do you hold such a view? Is not the foundation of all learning the sages’ classics?”

“Pardon my boldness,” Wei Ba replied. “The classics begin with the Book of Changes. The Changes start with hexagrams, which represent images. The sages fashioned tools based on these images; they calculated the world through numbers. What other field of study can surpass the profoundness of the Changes? Even the current commentaries on the Changes are but Confucius’s interpretations—merely a school of thought, hardly the Changes themselves.”

Xiahou Hui chuckled softly. “I did not expect Lord Wei to even question the great Master Confucius.”

Wei Ba shook his head calmly. “May I ask, have you heard the story of the blind men and the elephant?”

The story originated in India, and Xiahou Hui had never encountered it. Though puzzled by Wei Ba’s sudden shift from mathematics to storytelling, her curiosity was piqued. “I am unlearned and unfamiliar with the tale. Please enlighten me.”

Clearing his throat, Wei Ba recounted the story. “When Confucianism, Mohism, Daoism, Legalism, Yin-Yang, and other schools arose, each believed their path was the true way, dismissing all others as nonsense, much like those blind men feeling different parts of the elephant and each claiming to know its true form. Had they integrated their insights and discussed openly, they might have discerned the elephant’s true nature. Alas, they stubbornly clung to their own views, unwilling to yield, and so never attained the true path.”

“So, Lord Wei means that only through mathematics can one comprehend the true way?”

“Yes. The correctness of the classics varies with interpretation and cannot be conclusively verified. Mathematics, however, can be tested by anyone; its truths are unmistakable and undisputed. Only answers universally accepted can be trusted, enabling us to sift truth from falsehood and gradually uncover the path’s reality.”

“Lord Wei’s insight is extraordinary, unlike others. No wonder one so young possesses such understanding. Even the servant girl by your side excels in mathematics—truly admirable.”

Wei Ba smiled faintly. He understood Xiahou Hui’s words, though polite, carried a hint of skepticism. He cared little; he did not intend to make a name through mathematics. Since Xiahou Hui mentioned Peng Xiaoyu, he took the opportunity to speak.

“Miss Xiahou, although Xiaoyu is a servant, she is no ordinary one. She hails from the Peng family of Guanghan. Her father is Peng Yang, Peng Yongnian, and her elder brother is now a trusted officer under the General of Cavalry. My current position is due to the efforts of her brother.”

Though his voice was low, it was enough for Xiahou Mao in the neighboring room to overhear. Xiahou Mao, flattering Princess Qinghe, immediately grew sullen and silent. Even the princess, eyes closed and nearly moaning with delight, sensed his displeasure and suddenly opened her eyes.

Xiahou Hui pondered for a long while, then, somewhat disheartened, masked her unease and said, “If that is so, why do you keep her by your side? It seems her brother’s actions led to your jade falling into Zhuge Qiao’s hands.”

“That is true,” Wei Ba replied calmly. “But I believe she was unaware her brother intended to harm me. One who believed herself an orphan suddenly encountering her brother would understandably lower her guard in joy. Therefore, I do not blame her. If blame is due, it belongs to her brother, for she was merely used—never truly wishing me harm. Just as when someone is stabbed with a knife, we should blame the person, not the knife. Would you not agree, Miss?”

Xiahou Hui was momentarily lost in thought, not answering. Thinking of Peng Xiaoyu made her reflect on herself. If Wei Ba could forgive Peng Xiaoyu’s unwitting betrayal, could her own husband, Sima Shi, be so magnanimous toward her in the future?

Wei Ba heard no reply and found it odd. He glanced at Peng Xiaoyu, who winked but said nothing. It was unclear whether she was grateful for his forgiveness or signaling him to be patient.

Next door, Xiahou Mao clenched his fists, his face darkening. He viewed the matter of Peng Xiaoyu differently. Peng Heng had slighted him before and now left Peng Xiaoyu with Wei Ba—what cunning was this? Was it not to plant a spy? Before, Wei Ba was a captive with no freedom, effectively under house arrest, so there were no secrets. But now, Wei Ba was appointed as a Commander of the Loyal and Righteous troops, under his command. Having Sima Yi’s men planted near Wei Ba—what did this imply? Was he courting trouble in Guanzhong?

He wished to employ Wei Ba and win him over with kindness but feared Wei Ba’s status as a former captive might endanger him. If he did not utilize Wei Ba, he worried Wei Ba might become disillusioned and one day defect to Sima Yi. Losing such a talent and allowing Sima Yi to prevail would be a blow to his prestige.

Princess Qinghe noticed Xiahou Mao’s distress and leaned over, placing her hand atop his clenched fist. “Husband, is something troubling you?”

Xiahou Mao forced a smile and nodded silently.

“Why not tell me? Perhaps I can help,” the princess said, her mood radiant. The foot massage had brought her rare physical comfort, and seeing these delicate beauties kneeling before her like servants gave her a satisfaction beyond words. Her voice softened noticeably.

Hearing the princess speak so tenderly stirred Xiahou Mao’s heart, yet the sight of her aged face quickly calmed his rising emotions. He nearly withdrew his hand but recalled Wei Ba’s earlier advice. Forcing himself to smile, he sent the princess a knowing glance and winked. “Princess, let’s discuss this in the chamber.”

Suddenly understanding, the princess blushed, though unaware that Xiahou Mao almost retched at her coy demeanor. Yet seeing the pitiful gazes of the young beauties, he steeled himself.

To save these young women from this old tigress’s grasp, if I must descend into hell, then so be it. The Buddhists say, to feed the tiger with one’s own body is to become a Buddha. Today, I shall sacrifice this flesh to sate this tigress.

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Chapter 128 of “Dominating Shu” is now complete and available for free reading!