Chapter 063: Character Is Destiny (Third Update)

Chapter 063: Character Is Destiny, Third Update

Zhao Guang pondered for a long while, but ultimately shook his head. "I can't guess how the Prime Minister will arrange things."

Wei Ba savored Zhao Guang's words. He knew that Zhao Guang and his brother Zhao Tong shared temperaments very much like Zhao Yun's, mirroring their family's martial style—modest, unremarkable on the surface, yet watertight, leaving no openings for others to exploit. Zhao Yun's longevity owed much to this habit.

Unable to guess the Prime Minister's arrangements—this statement carried two meanings.

First, the plan would be decided by the Prime Minister; others had only the opportunity to execute, not to offer suggestions. If it were otherwise, one could at least discern some clues, especially someone like Zhao Yun, the veteran. Show a hint and he could deduce your intentions to near certainty. While warfare favors the unexpected, its core remains in the ordinary; common sense must always be observed.

Second, I only said I don't know how the Prime Minister will arrange things, without offering my own opinion. This implies both that my opinion doesn’t matter since I have no authority, and that my views may diverge greatly from the Prime Minister's. If our thinking overlapped, I could guess a little.

After more than half a year of familiarity, Wei Ba had gradually mastered this mode of communication.

"If you were to make the plan, how would you arrange it?" Wei Ba gazed at Zhao Guang's profile. "Or rather, if the Prime Minister sought your opinion now, what would you say?"

"The Prime Minister wouldn’t ask for my opinion, nor would I have the chance to make plans." Zhao Guang replied coolly. He paused, then added, "Perhaps he would test you. What would you say?"

"You sly fox," Wei Ba had anticipated Zhao Guang's answer, and couldn't help but laugh, giving Zhao Guang a gentle push, half-jokingly. "Zhongde, you’re just like Master—flawless. But Master is already seventy; it's understandable he acts so. You’re barely in your twenties—so mature, lacking even a trace of youthful vigor. How can that be?"

Zhao Guang did not smile, but looked at Wei Ba with solemnity. "You’re right. It’s both the strength and weakness of our Zhao family. It’s not a matter of age, but of nature."

"Uh... must you be so serious?" Wei Ba looked at Zhao Guang, embarrassed. "I was only joking, not belittling your family."

"I never said you were belittling us." Zhao Guang's face remained devoid of humor, his seriousness unsettling. "I’m merely stating a fact. Ziyu, do you know why my father took you as his disciple?"

Wei Ba frowned inwardly. He had often speculated about why Zhao Yun had voluntarily accepted him as a pupil, but none of his guesses could be proven. These matters relied on one’s own analysis, not something to ask outright. He had tested Zhao Yun before, but with Zhao Yun’s disposition, if he didn’t want to say, Wei Ba could get nothing from him. Now, Zhao Guang had suddenly broached the topic, and Wei Ba truly didn’t know how to respond.

"The reason is simple. Our father and brothers inherit the same nature: always seeking to stand invincible before all else. That’s a good thing, but taken to excess, it becomes a flaw. Like you said, we brothers lack the vigor of youth, and at a young age are already as sedate as father—a living replica."

Wei Ba listened quietly, knowing Zhao Guang spoke the truth. He and his brother Zhao Tong were indeed overly mature; such a temperament sufficed for guarding what was established, but was lacking in pioneering spirit. In Shu Han, with its need for bold advances and the restoration of the Central Plains, people like them were unlikely to be favored. Zhao Yun was valued by Zhuge Liang because he was Shu Han’s most senior general, while Zhao Guang and his brother found it hard to stand out among the younger generation. They were too quiet—so quiet that others rarely noticed them.

As the saying goes, the child who cries gets fed; those who are too quiet are easily overlooked.

"The reason he took you as a disciple is because you are bold. You dared strike General Liu Yan before the Prime Minister, forced Yang Yi—favored by the Prime Minister—to cough blood, all while leaving no handle for others to seize. That, I could not do, nor could my brother, and my father would never even dream of it." An ironic smile flickered in Zhao Guang’s eyes. "Father often says that warfare relies on a balance of the orthodox and the unconventional. We’re too orthodox—good at preserving, lacking in ambition. You, on the other hand, dare to use the unorthodox, possessing precisely what we brothers lack. If he can pass his military strategies to you, supplementing the orthodox with the unconventional, you might surpass us."

Wei Ba narrowed his eyes. He believed this could well be Zhao Yun's true intention, but there was a deeper issue Zhao Guang hadn’t mentioned. Zhao Yun’s idea was not surprising—but what was the driving force behind putting it into action? Was it Zhao Yun’s own decision, or was he instructed by Prime Minister Zhuge Liang? If it was the latter, what was Zhuge Liang’s intent? Did he truly wish for Wei Ba to become steadier, or was there another purpose?

Zhao Guang ultimately left Wei Ba’s question unanswered; Wei Ba could only keep it in his heart and search for the answer himself.

"Ziyu, the Prime Minister values your family highly. You will have ample opportunity to show your talents; don’t squander them, and don’t let my father down." Zhao Guang put his arm around Wei Ba’s shoulder, shaking him gently, and sighed. "Perhaps, in the future, you will be the pillar not only for us, but for the whole realm."

"I hardly dare accept such praise." Wei Ba gave a strained laugh, smacking his lips, unsure how to continue.

He understood the implications behind Zhao Guang’s words. Zhao Yun was one of Liu Bei’s original followers, now the last survivor. Guan Yu died, Zhang Fei died—the old ministers who followed Liu Bei into battle were reduced to Zhao Yun alone. Once he passed, that faction would fade from court, at best enjoying wealth and leisure, much like Guan Xing and Zhang Shao now. Real power in court belonged to the Jingzhou faction; the Wei family were Jingzhou people, and the strongest martial force among them. If Zhuge Liang wished to achieve greatness, he would inevitably rely on the Wei family. His favoritism toward them, and his grand gesture in having Wei Ba apprenticed to Zhao Yun, all revealed Zhuge Liang’s expectations of him.

Prime Minister Zhuge Liang relies on the Wei family, and among its members, Wei Ba is the most favored—it is obvious to any discerning eye, and Zhao Yun surely saw it too.

As for the tragedy years later, no one could foresee it now. Zhuge Liang was only forty-eight this year, in his prime. Who could have imagined he would die of exhaustion a few years hence at Wuzhang Plains, triggering a power imbalance in Shu Han’s court that could only be resolved with bloodshed?

Only Wei Ba knew. He understood Zhuge Liang’s weaknesses, and also his fate. If nothing changed, history would unfold as before: Zhuge Liang would die of exhaustion—not necessarily at Wuzhang Plains, but his meticulous nature would guarantee it. The Wei family would be exterminated—not necessarily immediately, but given Wei Yan’s character, the outcome was inevitable.

Character determines destiny; the details might shift, but the result would not differ much.

What should I do? Wait passively for death, or rise in resistance? If I resist, my greatest enemy may not be Cao Wei, but Prime Minister Zhuge Liang.

Wei Ba gazed silently at the army camp below, suddenly realizing that his relentless training and study over the past half-year stemmed not only from a desire to change his fate, but also from a subconscious urge to escape. He didn’t know how to confront the problem, so instinctively avoided it. But avoidance solves nothing; one can play ostrich for a moment, not for a lifetime.

Now another issue had arisen: Zhao Yun placed his hopes on him, not just for the Zhao family’s fortune, but perhaps for Shu Han’s future as well. If Zhao Yun could recognize his own shortcomings, how could he fail to see Zhuge Liang’s limitations? Yet he was old, lacking the courage to resist, and could only pin his hopes on Wei Ba.

This old man is cunning indeed—true wisdom disguised as simplicity, true treachery masquerading as loyalty. The more Wei Ba thought, the more alarmed he became, secretly grumbling about Zhao Yun, and suddenly feeling a heavy weight on his shoulders.

He raised his hand, shielding his face, his little finger pressed against his aching brow, fretting silently.

"Ziyu, you needn’t feel too burdened." Zhao Guang, seeing Wei Ba’s reaction, knew he’d caught the implied meaning and felt the pressure. He couldn’t help but feel guilty—placing such a heavy load on the shoulders of a newly grown youth, while his own family watched from the sidelines—hardly honorable. "Thinking is one thing, achieving is another. Man proposes, Heaven disposes."

Wei Ba sighed inwardly. The Zhao family’s troubles were nothing compared to the Wei family’s. If he didn’t rise and resist, his whole family would be wiped out in a few years. Well, since there’s no retreat, he could only rally his spirit and contend with the gods in his heart.

Wei Ba stood, dusted off his trousers, and pointed toward the eastern mountains, brimming with vigor, as if commanding the land.

"I think the Prime Minister will try to win over Meng Da, first securing our flank, then coordinating with the east to raise troops and distract Cao Wei’s forces, before seizing the chance to attack."

Zhao Guang pondered, then nodded in agreement. "A feint to the east, a strike to the west—it’s indeed a sound plan."

"Unfortunately, his response is too slow; he may not catch the moment. In the end, it will still be a contest between our Han and Cao Wei."

Zhao Guang was taken aback. "Is that how you see it?"

"Those who always seek stability react slowly." Wei Ba smiled faintly, casting a mischievous glance at Zhao Guang. "For example, if I tried to push you off now, would you have time to think it over?"

Zhao Guang jumped, then grew thoughtful, nodding silently with a sigh.

"A famous general once said that in battle, seven or eight parts certainty is enough. Less is too risky, more and you lose the opportunity. Even the Master said, 'Twice is enough.' To think thrice is being too cautious—great deeds cannot be accomplished thus."

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