Chapter 024: A Beauty by Nature

With a troubled heart, Wei Ba had not slept well all night, and by the next day, his spirits were noticeably low. Seeing him in such a state, Cheng An said nothing, merely inviting him into the carriage to head together to the Prime Minister’s camp. Wei Ba, modest and respectful, insisted that Cheng An board first. In terms of official position, Cheng An was the registrar while Wei Ba held no rank; in terms of age, Cheng An was even older than his own father, Wei Yan. To Wei Ba, showing such respect was only proper.

Cheng An did not persist, so he entered the carriage first. Once Wei Ba followed, the two set out for the Prime Minister’s central command camp.

Zhuge Liang had stationed the army at the foot of Yangping Mountain, with the mountain at their back and water before them. The encampment was orderly, banners fluttering in the breeze, exuding an imposing and unassailable aura. Wei Ba had always admired Zhuge Liang, but witnessing this scene, his admiration grew even deeper. He’d learned from his father, Wei Yan, that Zhuge Liang was nothing like the legendary strategist who, upon stepping out of Longzhong, immediately became a military advisor, commanding armies with a wave of his feather fan and defeating millions of Cao’s soldiers with a jest. In reality, Zhuge Liang had long been responsible for logistics, seldom personally leading troops into battle, and had scant experience commanding soldiers. His first appearance as a commander was only two years prior during the Southern Campaign, when, as Prime Minister, he led the army to suppress the rebellion in Nanzhong within half a year—a feat that had astonished the world.

For a scholar who had only recently begun leading troops, to organize a camp so meticulously reflected a brilliance that was almost beyond belief. Not long ago, when Wei Ba had accompanied his father in selecting the campsite, he had exerted considerable effort just to grasp the complicated considerations involved.

Their carriage was stopped before the camp. Military regulations dictated that men of their status, like Cheng An and Wei Ba, could not enter by carriage and must proceed on foot. Wei Ba parked the carriage outside and accompanied Cheng An on foot into the camp. He kept half a step behind Cheng An at all times, a sign of respect. Cheng An, not one for false modesty, strode confidently ahead.

Inside the camp, they arrived at a side tent. Cheng An halted, gesturing to the long queue before the tent. “See all those waiting to consult with Officer Yang? With over a hundred thousand troops, the daily consumption of provisions is staggering, and the accounts involved are equally astounding. Normally, several people would be needed to handle such matters, yet Officer Yang is so adept at calculation that he manages everything alone. Soon, you’ll see for yourself.”

Wei Ba watched as people constantly emerged from the tent, responding to Cheng An. He was still too far to hear what was being said inside, but he noticed that every so often, someone would come out holding an account book, their expressions either relieved or dejected, but never defiant. Clearly, their accounts had either passed muster or Yang Yi had discovered issues, but such issues left them utterly convinced and speechless.

From this alone, it was evident that Yang Yi was truly exceptional. Although the line was long, it seemed they would not have to wait much longer for their turn.

As they waited, Wei Ba observed his surroundings, inching forward with Cheng An as the line advanced. Those ahead entered and exited the tent in a steady stream, and soon it would be their turn. Wei Ba waved for Dunwu to bring the account books, reviewed them once more, and, satisfied that everything was in order, finally allowed himself to relax.

Just then, four or five youths in embroidered robes galloped up on horseback, halting abruptly before the tent. Mud and debris, kicked up by their horses’ hooves, spattered the waiting crowd, prompting startled cries. The youths paid no heed. The leader, fair-skinned and handsome, cut a dashing figure in his finely tailored attire. Sitting tall in the saddle, one hand propped on the pommel and chin thoughtfully in hand, he scanned the crowd with a lofty gaze. Finding no one of interest, he frowned.

Noticing his expression, a burly, bright-eyed youth at his left nudged his horse forward half a pace and called out in a loud voice, “Which among you is Wei Ba, second son of General Wei Yan? Come forward and speak!”

Wei Ba sighed inwardly. From the moment these youths appeared, he’d felt a sense of foreboding, suspecting their business had to do with him. Now, sure enough, their target was himself.

There was no way out of this. Even if he evaded them today, it would only delay the inevitable, and besides, his father would never let him off so easily. He gave Cheng An a meaningful glance, handing him the account book, and said softly, “I’ll have to trouble you to finish this, sir.”

Cheng An nodded. “Be careful, young master. Patience brings peace.”

“Thank you for your advice, sir. I’ll be cautious,” Wei Ba replied, bowing deeply. He then turned, squared his shoulders, and strode forward, signaling covertly to Dunwu. Though they were in the Prime Minister’s camp and these young men were unlikely to use force, it was reassuring to have a trained fighter like Dunwu nearby, just in case.

Dunwu rose without a word, stepped forward, and followed closely behind Wei Ba. He said nothing, but the aura of blood and steel he carried, from countless battles, spread ominously. The embroidered youths sensed nothing, but their horses, keen to danger, instinctively backed away a couple of steps.

The group’s bravado faltered, especially the fair-skinned youth in front. He’d been posing gracefully atop his mount, but when the horse suddenly retreated, he nearly slid from the saddle, saved only by the quick hand of a sturdy companion. Still, the embarrassment stung, and his pale face flushed bright red.

“I am Wei Ba. May I ask who you are and what business you have with me?” Wei Ba addressed the group, his tone neither servile nor overbearing. He knew that even if the Prime Minister himself were present, his father Wei Yan no longer held sway over Hanzhong, but within the army, his status was still considerable. No matter who these youths were—even Zhuge Liang himself would have to show some respect. As long as he didn’t provoke trouble or give them cause, he had nothing to fear. Since these young men sought him out so publicly, it was unlikely they intended a clandestine attack.

The fair-skinned youth glanced at him, surprise flickering across his face. He’d noticed Wei Ba earlier, but dressed plainly in homespun and carrying a stack of account books, standing deferentially by an old official, he’d assumed him to be a mere clerk or an attendant, not the son of Wei Yan. Even when Wei Ba stepped forward, he thought him one of the Wei household’s retainers, never suspecting he was the very person they sought.

Already irked by his earlier embarrassment, the youth’s displeasure grew. He bit his lower lip and snorted coldly. Hearing this, the burly youth at his side immediately barked, “Insolent Wei Ba! In the presence of the Rear General’s son, Officer Liu Yu of the Valiant Corps, why do you not bow?”

Rear General? For a moment, Wei Ba was puzzled. Dunwu stepped forward and whispered in his ear, “It should be Liu Yan’s son, Liu Yu—known as the Jade-faced Wolf.”

Enlightened, Wei Ba recalled that Liu Yan was a rather peculiar figure. A member of the imperial clan, he’d followed Liu Bei from early on, but had no real talents except for his good looks and pretensions to elegance—his household maids were said to recite Han poetry, but beyond that, he was quite useless. As Rear General, he commanded a token force, more for show than any real fighting. Liu Yu was his eldest son, inheriting his father’s handsome features. Often surrounded by sons of high officials, he was flattered as the Jade-faced Lord, but because of his poor character, bullying others and using his status, as well as his looks, to seduce respectable girls, he was derisively known in Chengdu as the Jade-faced Wolf.

Wei Ba cupped his hands. “So it is Officer Liu. What guidance do you have for me?”

Liu Yu, displeased by Wei Ba’s indifferent manner, snorted again. Yet his voice, soft and affected, lacked any authority, sounding more like a woman’s petulant complaint. Wei Ba nearly laughed out loud at the sound, his brows arching in amusement. Liu Yu, seeing this, grew even angrier, his cheeks reddening. “What are you laughing at? You find this officer amusing?”

Suppressing a smile, Wei Ba replied, “How could an officer of such beauty be laughable? You misunderstand me, sir.”

Those standing nearby, hearing Wei Ba refer to Liu Yu as ‘officer of such beauty’ and comparing it to Liu Yu’s rosy cheeks, could not help but agree inwardly; some even swallowed hard, quite taken with the scene.

Liu Yu was even more infuriated. “Are you blind, that you can’t even distinguish man from woman?”

With utmost sincerity, Wei Ba apologized, “Forgive me, my education is lacking. I didn’t know ‘beauty’ shouldn’t be used for a man, but seeing the officer’s rosy lips, pearly teeth, and graceful bearing, I found it fitting.”

“You’re uneducated?” Liu Yu, hearing Wei Ba apologize while still alluding to his graceful figure, flew into a rage and retorted sarcastically, “I thought you’d read even the Grand Historian’s works—a learned man. Yet you’re just a poseur, skilled only in flattery before women. When it comes to serious matters, you speak nonsense and can’t even form a complete sentence.”

With those words, Wei Ba became even more convinced of his earlier suspicion—it was indeed that young lady from the Ma family who’d sent for help, and now, even if he wanted to avoid it, he could not.

He smiled sheepishly. “Indeed, my education is shallow. But, Officer Liu, who says ‘beauty’ cannot describe a man?”

Liu Yu, who had been speaking heatedly, was stumped by this. Everyone knew ‘beauty’ was generally used for women, immortalized in countless poems and essays. Yet who had ever decreed it couldn’t be used for men? After a long pause, Liu Yu, flustered, retorted, “Then tell me, who has ever used ‘beauty’ to describe a man?”

Wei Ba shrugged. “As I said, my learning is limited. I don’t know of anyone who has, but since there’s no rule against it, why not let me be the first? Officer Liu, with your powdered face, vermilion lips, and slender form—even a maiden in her prime would feel inferior beside you. If you were to sell wine at the counter, Zhuo Wenjun herself would shy away. How could it be wrong to call you a beauty?”

Though Liu Yu took pride in his appearance, to be likened to a woman in front of so many, even compared to the wine-seller Zhuo Wenjun, left him mortified. He clenched his teeth in fury, his face flushing scarlet, and looked more radiant—and more embarrassed—than ever.