Chapter 13, Part 2: The Melon Is Ripe

Wei Ba left the Governor's Office and returned to his residence. Upon entering the inner courtyard, he immediately saw five young beauties sitting in the main hall, chatting idly, looking bored and staring blankly into the daylight. Some were pouting, some resting their chins on their hands, some frowning slightly, others casting melancholy glances—a display of languor that would stir any man’s heart.

"What is the matter?"

"What else could it be? Boredom." Peng Xiaoyu walked up, took Wei Ba’s helmet, and naturally moved behind him to unfasten his cloak. "Young Master, you have been out for so long; you must be tired, right?"

"I am fine." Wei Ba accepted the service naturally while glancing at the five beauties. They had intended to stand up to greet him, fulfilling their role as concubines, but seeing the intimacy between Peng Xiaoyu and Wei Ba—clearly not that of a servant and master—they hesitated and remained seated. They had been gifted to Wei Ba by Princess Qinghe and had few expectations; for them, simply leaving the Governor's Office alive was a stroke of good fortune.

After a moment of hesitation, the eldest-looking one stepped forward: "The General has worked hard. Do you need to bathe? Should I prepare hot water?"

Wei Ba gave a bitter laugh, waved his hand, and said, "You are the Governor's people. Your stay here is only temporary; do not take it to heart. I dare not ask for your service. Treat this as a few days of rest. When the time is right, I will return you to the Governor, completely unscathed."

The beauties exchanged glances, looking dejected. Princess Qinghe had cast them out, and Wei Ba refused to keep them; their future was now uncertain. As for Xiaomao, that henpecked man was even less reliable.

Wei Ba did not have time to console them and walked straight into his study. Peng Xiaoyu stopped at the door and asked softly, "Young Master, shall I go brew some tea for you?"

Wei Ba grunted an acknowledgment and closed the door behind him. The door shut with a soft click in front of Peng Xiaoyu. Though it was only a faint sound, it caused tears to well up in her eyes and slide down her cheeks. She stood stunned for a moment, clutching the heavy helmet and cloak, before turning and walking away.

Wei Ba was oblivious to what had happened outside. He had finally obtained accurate information today and needed to transmit it as quickly as possible. A perfect tactical opportunity had emerged; every day of delay meant losing a chance. He had risked his life to wait for this moment, and he would not let it slip away easily.

Eastern Wu had finally lost their patience. They had moved ahead of Shu-Han, drawing the bulk of Cao Wei's main forces. Not only was the Southeast Theater fully engaged, but even Sima Yi in Jiangling had rushed to provide reinforcements. If this intelligence were true—which was not difficult to verify, as the movement of a grand army could not be hidden—then when Zhuge Liang marched into Guanzhong, he would only face the twenty thousand troops stationed there and the ten thousand or so permanent garrison troops in Longyou. With Zhuge Liang’s superior force, he had more than enough chance to prevail.

Wei Ba quickly encoded the intelligence. Even if the message fell into other hands, they would not be able to discern its meaning; only those holding the codebook—like Zhuge Liang or himself—could understand it. Wei Ba believed that in an era where intelligence was still transmitted in plain text, this cryptographic technique was foolproof. The only way it could fail was through human error.

After sending the message, Wei Ba felt a rare sense of relief. The months of hardship and torment were finally yielding results; half of the heavy burden in his heart had lifted. Xiaomao’s remark earlier that day had pleased him greatly and deepened his admiration for Zhuge Liang’s cunning. Zhuge Liang had once told him: "What kind of words do not reveal flaws? The truth! There is no need to lie, because for every word you say, the opponent will try to verify it. While they cannot verify everything, you can hardly guarantee they won’t be able to verify your lies."

"Therefore, the most brilliant lie is the one hidden among countless truths. A person who never lies will not arouse suspicion when they tell a lie on the rare occasion. This plan is known only to a few of us. Apart from this plan, you should report all intelligence based on actual facts. Use the most realistic situation to wrap our most important plan; only then can you ensure your safety."

Wei Ba had heard countless such platitudes in his previous life, but hearing them from Zhuge Liang felt profoundly different. In his impression, Zhuge Liang was a selfless saint; hearing such a man discuss the nuances of deception seemed absurd.

Perhaps it was not Zhuge Liang who was absurd, but history itself. Throughout history, which successful politician was a moral paragon? Without extraordinary political maneuvering, how could one rise to prominence and seize absolute power in a treacherous bureaucracy? Judging political figures by moral standards was always like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.

Up to now, Wei Ba had hardly told a single lie, and it was precisely for this reason that he had earned that assessment from Xiaomao. Gaining Xiaomao’s trust was vital to completing his final plan. Now, all the groundwork was laid; the remaining task was how to coordinate with his father to seize Chang'an and control Tong Pass.

It was currently June, and the autumn harvest was only a month away. Food should not be a problem. His father would need to guard Tong Pass, but the pass was dilapidated and required repairs to be defensible—a major issue. How to repair the pass without arousing Xiaomao’s suspicion was a puzzle that required careful thought. Judging by Xiaomao’s reaction today, he was not well-versed in military affairs, but he was not stupid, especially with the clever Xiahou Hui behind him.

Wei Ba had already learned that Xiahou Hui was the betrothed wife of Sima Shi. He knew who this woman was; his primary opponent was no longer Xiaomao, but Xiahou Hui. During the grand offensive, if he only controlled Xiaomao but failed to control her, it would be like picking up a sesame seed while losing a watermelon.

How to manage them was a question that required careful consideration.

Wei Ba leaned against the wall, weary, and pushed the window open a crack. He looked toward the small courtyard where the five beauties resided. He was not looking for them out of desire, but purely by habit. With the wall in the way, he could not see them, only the pale yellow glow of the lamps in the night. The light was dim; one would hardly notice it without careful observation.

These five women were a nuisance. What if Princess Qinghe, that tigress, came to visit one day and saw him treating these five beauties with such formal respect? Would she fly into a rage? If Xiaomao saw these five women looking haggard, would he be furious?

Damn it, this couple was truly difficult to serve. I have to play nanny to them?

Wei Ba grumbled to himself, when a thought suddenly struck him. It would not do for these five to remain so stifled every day. Who knew what kind of psychological toll it might take after a long time? People could go mad from idleness. Make them do chores? Don't be ridiculous; if Xiaomao found out, he would skin him alive. No, he needed to find something that could kill time without exhausting them. What could it be? It was simple: let them build the Great Wall!

Wei Ba slapped his forehead. How could he have forgotten this national pastime that was suitable for all ages and ranks?

Wei Ba acted immediately. He drew up a set of designs and called for Peng Xiaoyu, telling her to go to the wood market tomorrow and find someone to carve a set of Mahjong tiles. Peng Xiaoyu looked at the dots and lines, puzzled. "What kind of game is this? Can it really pass the time?"

"Of course," Wei Ba said confidently. Peng Xiaoyu had never seen the spectacular scene of a billion people playing Mahjong, otherwise, she would not have said that. "Young Master is a surrendered general. Do you really think I can lead troops into battle and achieve great things? I can only put in some effort to please those noble people to earn a living and have some extra money to buy your medicine."

Wei Ba was in a great mood. As he spoke, he tilted Peng Xiaoyu’s chin and carefully examined the bruise on her face. Seeing it had shrunk and faded, he nodded with satisfaction and teased, "It seems in less than half a year, you will be a beauty, no worse than those five."

Peng Xiaoyu blushed, broke free from Wei Ba’s hand, and hurried away with the designs. Watching her swaying waist and thinking of the wonderful times to come, Wei Ba could not help but laugh heartily.

...Hanzhong, Mianyang Camp, the Prime Minister’s main tent.

Zhuge Liang and Ma Su sat opposite each other. On the table between them lay the recently received intelligence. It consisted of a few hexagrams, each with a Chinese character written beside it.

The text was brief, yet both Zhuge Liang and Ma Su could understand it clearly. This was the second piece of intelligence sent back by Wei Ba, and the first to have any real value. The first had only served to test the communication channel and report his safety. This one, however, was vital information.

Zhuge Liang had already received reports. Zong Yu had sent word from Fangling that Sima Yi in Wancheng was showing unusual activity and seemed to be preparing for something, though his target was unknown at the time. He had also received news about the Wu army, stating that Lu Xun, who guarded Xiling, had recently left for Wuchang, though the purpose of his trip to Wuchang was unclear.

Receiving Wei Ba’s intelligence allowed Zhuge Liang to connect these events. The East was finally acting; Wei and Wu would engage in a great battle in the Yangzhou region. For a short time, there would be no reinforcements for Guanzhong, only the current thirty thousand troops. Shu-Han was marching with an army of one hundred thousand, possessing a sufficient advantage in strength. Combined with Wei Ba’s feigned surrender and his encouragement of Xiaomao to store grain in Guanzhong, the time for the Shu-Han Northern Expedition had matured.

Even though Zhuge Liang had always been cautious, at this moment, he could not help but feel his heart pounding like a drum. Because only a few people knew of Wei Ba’s feigned surrender—everyone else believed he had fled after killing Zhuge Qiao and had been executed—Zhuge Liang could only discuss this with Ma Su.

"Youchang, what do you think?"

Ma Su stroked his short beard and smiled faintly: "Prime Minister, the melon is ripe. If we do not pick it now, it will either rot or fall."