Chapter 15: The Wei Family's Martial Guards

As the soldiers began their rapid march around the training ground, Wei Ba also started his daily morning exercise, but he quickly regretted it. Running three laps empty-handed left him gasping for breath; after seven or eight laps, his steps grew heavy. He pushed himself to the limit and managed to finish twelve laps, utterly exhausted, sprawled on the ground like a dead dog. Meanwhile, the soldiers, fully armed and carrying heavy sacks of rice, still moved with ease, their eyes resolute, and—astonishingly—even ran faster than when they began.

Wei Ba was deeply shaken, sitting on the ground in a most undignified manner, panting heavily. Wei Wu ran over, holding out a large bowl of water with both hands. “Brother, drink up. Mother prepared this especially for you—the temperature is just right.”

Wei Ba accepted the lacquered bowl; indeed, the water was neither hot nor cold, perfectly balanced. He glanced over at his mother in the distance, who was leading the little girl Lan’er, raised his bowl in acknowledgment, then gulped it down, draining it completely. Handing the bowl back to Wei Wu, he said, still out of breath, “Wei Wu, help me to the side. Compared to these donkey-like fellows, I’m truly embarrassed.”

Wei Wu laughed, holding the bowl in one hand and helping Wei Ba up with the other. “How can you compare yourself to them? They’ve trained like this since childhood, while you’ve only just started. Being able to run this far is already impressive.”

“Is that a compliment or a jab?” Wei Ba feigned annoyance, leaning on Wei Wu’s shoulder as they walked to the small hut at the edge of the grounds. Deng, with little Lan’er in tow, came over, looking at Wei Ba, sweat pouring down his face—both worried and gratified—but said little. Seeing that he was unharmed except for some heavy breathing, they finally relaxed and left.

“Wei Wu, will you train like this in the future?” Wei Ba asked, eyeing the soldiers still running on the field, feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Of course. Our eldest brother trained this way, and if you weren’t frail and sickly, you’d have to do the same. I’ll definitely follow suit. Even Father, when he has free time, trains daily. If a commander doesn’t rigorously practice physical skills, how will he have the chance to distinguish himself on the battlefield?” Wei Wu replied matter-of-factly.

“But... isn’t the load a bit excessive?”

“This heavy?” Wei Wu was surprised, blinking. “We’re used to it; everyone trains like this.” He thought for a moment and added, “I remember Father saying this is a very ancient method of military training, passed down from the famous general Wu Qi.”

“Wu Qi?” Hearing the name, Wei Ba fell silent. Wu Qi was one of the most outstanding generals of the Warring States period, renowned alongside Sun Zi by later military scholars, though his reputation suffered and his end was tragic. In later eras, where morality was prized, Wu Qi’s legacy faded. But this was not so distant from the Warring States, so it was possible that his military texts had survived. Thinking he might get to see the lost art of Wu Qi’s tactics, Wei Ba’s heart stirred with excitement. “Where is this manual? Can I read it?”

“In Father’s study. If you want to see it, of course you can.”

“Excellent. Since we have some free time, let’s take a look,” Wei Ba said, energized, rising and tugging at Wei Wu. But Wei Wu frowned, “Right now? Can we wait a bit?”

“You brat, I knew just mentioning books would make your head ache,” Wei Ba saw through him instantly. Wei Wu didn’t fear hardship in training, but books left him dazed, even disgusted. Wei Ba pulled him along forcefully. “Let me tell you, to be a famed general, skill alone isn’t enough—you’d only be a fighter at best. Don’t you admire Lord Guan? Lord Guan still read the Spring and Autumn Annals; why don’t you study?”

Wei Wu had no choice, his face bitter as he was dragged along, muttering complaints, “You never wanted to go before; now you’re lecturing me instead.”

Bickering as they went, the brothers entered the inner courtyard and reached the rear study. The study was not large, nor was it packed with books as Wei Ba had imagined. Aside from a silk map hanging on the wall, there was only a bookshelf in the corner, with a few piles of bamboo slips and silk volumes. A lacquered desk with black grain and red base stood under the south window, neatly arranged with brushes and writing tools. In the north corner was a campaign couch, presumably for resting after reading.

As soon as Wei Wu entered, he rushed to the couch and lay down, covering his eyes with his arm, sighing, “I didn’t sleep well yesterday—I'm tired. I’ll nap for a bit. If you want to read, go ahead; everything’s on the shelf.”

Wei Ba ignored him, opened the window for fresh air, then walked to the bookshelf and carefully searched. Though the shelf seemed crowded, there were few actual books: aside from a Spring and Autumn Annals and Analects, the rest were various military treatises. Wei Ba soon found a bamboo slip labeled “Wu Qi’s Art of War,” gently pulled it out, removed the green silk wrapping, and took out the bamboo scroll.

The scroll was smooth, evidently well-thumbed by Wei Yan. It was densely inscribed with tiny characters, with red notes at the margins—Wei Yan’s own bold handwriting, his reflections.

Wei Ba found the section on Wei’s elite soldiers and read closely, marveling at the content. So there really were such formidable warriors in antiquity—no wonder Wu Qi could dominate the land. His record spoke for itself: seventy-six battles, sixty-four victories, never once defeated. Even more astounding, among his opponents were the Qin army, which later unified the realm. He subdued even the Qin, which explained why Wei Yan admired him so deeply and sought to train the Wei family troops to the same standards.

If, as Dun Wu claimed, the Wei family’s three thousand troops possessed such strength, they would be a force to be reckoned with—perhaps not enough to sweep all under heaven, but certainly an undeniable presence in the narrow, resource-poor state of Shu. Wu Qi’s own force consisted of only fifty thousand elite soldiers.

Yet, despite having fifty thousand undefeated soldiers, Wu Qi died miserably, and Wei was eventually destroyed by Qin. What good would the Wei family’s three thousand do? They could not conquer the world, certainly. For history showed Wei Yan died soon after—not on the battlefield, but at the hands of his own men, just like Wu Qi.

Wei Ba closed the bamboo scroll with a sigh, his heart heavy. He found himself believing the version told in Romance of the Three Kingdoms: Zhuge Liang had confidence in controlling Wei Yan, but after his death, who could restrain this fierce tiger? Thus, for Shu’s safety, it was only logical that Zhuge Liang left a plan to eliminate Wei Yan before his own death—a secret scheme designed to remove a threat.

How could the Wei family avoid this fate? To retreat and keep a low profile? Impossible, given his father Wei Yan’s temperament—he would never hide in cowardice.

The only path was forward: to become so strong that no adversary dared bare their fangs, not even to sneer. Then, warn his father to beware of traitors like Ma Dai, not to fall for their tricks, and survival should be assured. Yet, while the Wei father and son were formidable in martial prowess, their strategic acumen seemed lacking—especially when it came to matching wits with someone like Zhuge Liang. Was it not overreaching? Even though Wei Ba had crossed over from another world and possessed some technical skills, he was hardly adept at intrigue—his bruised ego from office politics proved that.

What should he do? Wei Ba gazed out the window, lost in thought.

In the building a dozen steps away, behind a beaded curtain, Lady Zhang rested her chin in her hand, reclining in the shadows, her eyes half-closed. Aside from the faint tremble of her eyelashes, it was impossible to tell if she slept. Her attendant, the well-dressed maiden Huan’er, sat behind her, gently massaging her legs, speaking slowly and calmly about the news she had just gathered.

“After assigning tasks, he went to the training ground. For some reason, he had ten elite soldiers carry rice sacks for a rapid march around the field. He himself ran ten laps, ending up exhausted like a dead dog…”

Lady Zhang let out a quiet hum; Huan’er was startled and quickly swallowed her words. “After resting a while, he went with Wei Wu to the general’s study.” She glanced at the building across the courtyard, its window open, staring at the figure seated there, her anger undisguised.

“He went to the study?” Lady Zhang opened her eyes, sitting up slowly. “Wasn’t he busy? How did he have time for the study?”

“Who knows him,” Huan’er pouted. “If you ask me, he just used this excuse to spank Zhang Ping, to humiliate your reputation.”

“Hm?” Lady Zhang frowned at Huan’er. Only then did Huan’er realize she had misspoken—comparing Zhang Ping’s backside with Lady Zhang’s dignity was improper. She quickly covered her mouth and bowed. “Lady, I spoke out of turn; please punish me.”

“You’re all too spoiled. Though Wei Ba is a concubine’s child, he’s still the general’s blood. He can’t compare to Ah Feng, but he’s not someone you maids should criticize.” Lady Zhang’s tone was calm, but the chill within it made Huan’er pale. “Besides, the general called him back urgently, so there must be a reason. If Zhang Ping couldn’t see that, he’s as stupid as a pig—he deserved his beating.”

Huan’er dared not reply, bowing low, trembling.

Lady Zhang stood and walked to the window, watching the figure in the study across the way, her lips curling slightly. “Still, I’m curious about his behavior today. A child timid for over ten years suddenly grows forceful—carrying the family head’s title so I can’t object, then using my name to publicly beat Zhang Ping half to death, yet I can’t act against him for now. This trick of borrowing authority is clumsy, but for him, it’s truly remarkable.”

Lady Zhang fell silent for a moment, then chuckled softly. “Even the general and Ah Feng likely wouldn’t have thought of such tactics. The Wei family has always had only brute courage, but now there’s one who knows how to scheme—a rarity. Could it be that heaven finally pities the Wei family and grants us someone with a bit of wit?”

Huan’er raised her head in warning. “But, Lady, if he truly grows clever, in the future…”

“What’s there to fear? The distinction between legitimate and concubine-born sons—I trust the general can handle it.” Lady Zhang sneered. “Besides, with such tricks, he might fool those simple-minded brutes, but could he ever deceive me? If he wants to threaten Ah Feng, he’ll need decades more of practice.”

Huan’er dared not say more, only replying, “Lady, you are wise.”

Lady Zhang looked down at Huan’er, her tone brooking no argument. “Go watch him. If anything needs to be pointed out, do so promptly. This matter concerns our struggle with Yang Yi—we cannot afford carelessness.”

Huan’er bowed in obedience. “Yes.” —New book release! Please recommend, collect, and support in any way you can!