Chapter 23: A Lesson from the Past

Before Wei Ba spoke, he had already prepared himself mentally, yet he still hadn’t expected his father to be so confident—he would simply not listen to any advice. Insisting on his own opinion was pointless; facts were far more persuasive. Besides, Wei Ba had to admit his father’s reasoning did make some sense. Although the Shu army had the advantage in numbers, their overall combat power was not superior, and in the long run, it was obvious that Shu’s strength could not match Wei’s. If a breakthrough was to be made, launching a surprise attack to seize Guanzhong, though risky, promised great rewards if successful.

Regarding strategy and tactics, Wei Ba had no particular advantage. All he could do now was try to solve some technical issues, make the Ziwu Valley plan more feasible, and reduce the risks as much as possible.

Not seeing Wei Ba persist in his own view, Wei Yan was very pleased, thinking he had convinced his son. He was satisfied with Wei Ba’s changes over the past few days. Even though he was not yet as helpful as Wei Feng, at least he was trying and putting in effort, which was a good thing.

After a warm family dinner, the four of them chatted for a while before retiring to their own rooms. Having traveled all day, Wei Ba was truly exhausted and went to rest early. Wei Yan stayed behind in the tent, preparing his arguments, intent on convincing Prime Minister Zhuge in one go and gaining great merit. Yet, for some reason, he no longer felt as confident as before—his mind often wandered, and Wei Ba’s words kept echoing in his ears.

“Father, I suspect the Prime Minister will definitely not approve your plan.”

Wei Yan couldn’t help but laugh. “Definitely won’t? Ha, you brat—your skills aren’t much, but your tone is big. You think the Prime Minister lacks vision like you? My plan is so good—how could he not use it? Hmph, let’s see what you have to say when he does! You’re still too green, trying to put on airs. When I was your age, I was already leading troops into battle with the late Emperor. What do you know?”

Wei Feng entered at that moment and happened to hear Wei Yan’s soliloquy, chuckling softly. Wei Yan, slightly embarrassed, covered up by asking, “Ah Feng, do you think I’m right, or is Ah Ba right?”

“You both have a point,” Wei Feng replied with a smile. “From a comparative strength standpoint, your plan is indeed a good one. On the way back just now, Ah Ba said the same.”

“What did he say?” Wei Yan sat up, suddenly interested.

“He said Wei is strong and Han is weak. To defeat the strong with the weak, surprise and cunning are necessary. Right now, Cao Wei is not on high alert against us—this is the best time for a surprise attack, with the highest chance of success. If we miss this chance and they become wary, such an opportunity may not come again. But the risks are indeed high, and the Prime Minister likely won’t agree.” Wei Feng paused, then added quietly, “Father, what Ah Ba worries about most is not whether the Prime Minister will agree, but that you might clash with him, be used by others, and create discord.”

Wei Yan frowned. “He’s worried about Yang Yi?”

Wei Feng smiled wryly, thinking, there’s more than just Yang Yi among those around the Prime Minister who are at odds with our family. Just as Ah Ba worried, father has made too many enemies, and the Wei family’s special position easily provokes jealousy. In the past, when the Wei family dominated Hanzhong, it was fine, but now that the Prime Minister is stationed here, if father continues being so headstrong, who knows what trouble might arise.

“The Prime Minister is not one to listen to petty slander,” Wei Yan said after a moment’s silence, forcing a laugh. “Let him focus on his own duties. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure that upstart Yang Yi has nothing to say.”

“Don’t worry, father; Ah Ba is prepared. He just went to discuss it with Elder Cheng again.”

“Good, that’s as it should be.” Wei Yan rubbed his hands, feeling inexplicably excited.

...

In the side tent, Wei Ba sat across from the chief clerk, Cheng An. Wei Ba’s expression was calm, tinged with worry, while Cheng An’s eyes were filled with surprise. He wasn’t surprised that Wei Ba had come—after all, tomorrow they would report on Hanzhong’s grain preparations to the Prime Minister’s office, and as the inventor of the new accounting books, Wei Ba would naturally help Wei Yan with various affairs in the future. Discussing things in advance was only to be expected. The surprise was that Wei Ba had asked him to exercise restraint when reporting to Yang Yi tomorrow, to avoid conflict as much as possible. Even if Yang Yi said something unpleasant, he hoped Cheng An would endure it. After all, Hanzhong had done all that was required, even exceeding expectations. Yang Yi probably wouldn’t nitpick over nothing.

Cheng An found this very surprising. He knew all too well the temperament of the Wei family. Wei Yan had done plenty behind the scenes just to make Yang Yi lose face, and Wei Feng had expressed similar intentions more than once. Yet now Wei Ba was asking him to step back and avoid conflict—this simply didn’t sound like something a Wei would say.

Cheng An began to take an interest in Wei Ba. Stroking his beard, he smiled, “Why?”

Wei Ba looked at him calmly. Cheng An, feeling slightly guilty, avoided his gaze, worried that Wei Ba might sense his contempt for the Wei family. Wei Ba said, “Elder Cheng, you are from a great family in Yizhou, with abundant experience, and you’ve assisted my father for many years. You know his temperament well and must realize that his friction with Yang Yi is merely a clash of personalities, not of interests. Now that the Prime Minister is campaigning in the north to restore the Han, it is a matter of great importance. Yang Yi is talented, my father is formidable in war—they should both be the Prime Minister’s right and left hands, working together for this cause. If personal grievances drive them into open conflict, wouldn’t that be a loss for the greater good?”

Cheng An was silent for a while, then nodded approvingly. “Young General, I understand your point. Tomorrow, I’ll do my best to avoid conflict. However, I have something to say, if you won’t take it amiss.”

Wei Ba bowed. “Please, Elder, speak plainly.”

Cheng An sighed softly. “Yang Yi is a small matter. With the Prime Minister present, their quarrel won’t get out of hand. In my opinion, the real problem is the General’s temper. Both he and Yang Yi are from Jingxiang—they should be the Prime Minister’s trusted aides. This state of mutual hostility is certainly not what the Prime Minister wishes to see. He values discipline above all, and even for his fellow Jingxiang men, he will not bend the law. For those who disrupt harmony, he is never lenient—Liao Li is a case in point.”

Wei Ba’s heart stirred. He knew of Liao Li; reading past government bulletins a few days ago, he had noted Liao Li’s demotion. Now that Cheng An mentioned him, was he warning Wei Yan not to follow in Liao Li’s footsteps?

“Was Liao Li demoted for disturbing the ranks?”

Cheng An’s mouth twitched. He picked up his cup, took a slow sip, and nodded. “Liao Li was talented, and among the earliest Jingxiang followers of the late Lord. Before he was thirty, he was made Prefect of Changsha. Later, when the Wu forces seized Jingzhou and he had to escape, the late Lord did not blame him, appointing him Prefect of Ba Commandery instead. After the late Lord became emperor, Liao Li was made Palace Attendant, showing how highly he was valued. When the late Lord passed and the current emperor ascended, Liao Li was made Colonel of the Longwater Army, meant to assist the Prime Minister in supporting the new ruler and achieving great things. Yet, because of reckless speech and criticizing the court, he was demoted to commoner. Take warning from this, Young General—if you have the chance, do urge the General to mind his temper.”

Wei Ba nodded repeatedly. “Thank you for the reminder, Elder. If I get the chance, I’ll certainly urge my father, and I also hope you will not hesitate to advise us.”

Cheng An smiled. “Of course. Young General, it’s getting late, and you’ve had a long journey. You should rest. As for tomorrow, I know how to handle things. Besides, at my age, Yang Yi won’t give me too much trouble. But you, Young General, must be patient—I expect he’ll argue with you a bit tomorrow.”

Wei Ba agreed.

Cheng An stroked his beard, studying Wei Ba intently, nodding to himself. Wei Ba took his leave and returned to his quarters. Wei Wu was already asleep, sprawled on the bed, snoring in grand fashion. Wei Ba frowned affectionately, nudged Wei Wu, tucked in the kicked-off blanket, then washed up and lay down himself.

He was exhausted but couldn’t fall asleep for a long time—not because of Wei Wu’s snoring, for he had long grown used to sharing a bed with his brother, but because something was weighing on his mind. He felt as though there was something he hadn’t handled properly, but he couldn’t recall what it was. Sitting up, he slowly reviewed the day’s events from start to finish. When he thought back to his conversation with Cheng An, he suddenly understood.

Cheng An’s expression had been odd, as if there was something he wanted to say but held back. Though he didn’t say it outright, it felt as if he hoped Wei Ba would understand, as if he was intentionally drawing attention to it, giving him time to react.

What was he trying to say? Wei Ba turned it over in his mind, and finally realized Cheng An’s demeanor had changed when talking about Liao Li.

Could there be more behind Liao Li’s demotion? But what exactly was Cheng An hinting at? Wei Ba thought until his head ached but found nothing suspicious in Liao Li’s record. Was Cheng An simply telling Wei Yan to take Liao Li’s fate as a warning and curb his arrogance?

Wei Ba patted his forehead and sighed. Talking to these people is exhausting—why can’t they just speak plainly, instead of making me solve riddles?

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