Chapter 065: You Were Right (Second Update)

Chapter 065: You Were Right—Second Update

Wei Yan, persuaded by Zhao Yun, had originally given up the argument. Yet Yang Yi’s words were insidious, directly targeting his son, Wei Ba, and immediately igniting his fury. Without thinking, he retorted sharply, “My son may not match Staff Officer Ma, but he does possess some talent. At least in mathematics, certain people could spend their whole lives and never catch up to him.”

Yang Yi’s face turned deathly pale. The time Wei Ba forced him into vomiting blood remained the most humiliating event of his life. Thankfully, Wei Ba never entered the Prime Minister’s residence, so they had no opportunity to meet again, keeping the peace between them. Now, Wei Yan had brought up this painful memory in front of everyone, essentially tearing open Yang Yi’s old wound and robbing him of all dignity.

After a brief moment of pallor, Yang Yi’s complexion suddenly flushed red, his lips devoid of color. He sprang to his feet, trembling all over, pointing at Wei Yan with a hand shaking like a withered branch in the wind.

“Wei Wenchang, call your son here! Let’s compete again!”

“Hah, I worry you won’t have enough blood to spit,” Wei Yan sneered, then added ominously, “Let me remind you: you can point at me all you want—I won’t bother with someone like you. But do not point at my son. He’s young, and has a bad habit—he likes to twist people’s fingers.”

As he spoke, Wei Yan waved his open hand. Yang Yi instinctively recoiled, drawing his hand back in alarm. Seeing this, Wei Yan burst out laughing, but after two laughs, his expression turned cold as water and he spat out, “Petty scholar!”

Yang Yi’s face alternated between red and white, a sudden, inexplicable sense of grievance rising in his chest. Tears welled up uncontrollably. He turned to Zhuge Liang, seated at the center, and could not help but cry out, “Prime Minister—!”

Zhuge Liang felt exasperated. A proper military council had devolved into this farce, and he hadn’t even had a chance to react. What made it worse was that both men were natives of Jing and Xiang—one a rare fierce general about to be put to great use, the other his trusted financial expert upon whom all the army’s provisions depended. Their quarrel was irreconcilable, and he could neither take sides nor ignore it.

He didn’t need to look to sense that some were delighting in the spectacle, secretly despising him as Prime Minister and all Jing-Xiang natives.

Ma Su, witnessing the scene, barked sharply, “Lord Wei, you have lost composure—step down!” With that, he signaled to Zhuge Qiao, who hurried forward and half-supported, half-dragged Yang Yi out. Yang Yi was frail and no match for Zhuge Qiao. Knowing how much he had embarrassed himself, he dared not linger in the tent; if the argument continued, there was no telling whether Wei Yan might attack him with a blade. So he didn’t resist, letting Zhuge Qiao lead him away.

Wei Yan arched his brow with some satisfaction, but soon realized he had placed the Prime Minister in a difficult position. He bowed awkwardly, “Prime Minister, I… I truly meant no disrespect to Youchang just now, it’s just… just…”

Zhuge Liang waved helplessly, “Enough. Let us continue discussing the campaign. Wenchang, if you have further opinions, bring them to me afterward.”

Wei Yan, sensing the cue, did not insist. He returned to his seat and lowered his head obediently. The Prime Minister had made his stance clear; if Wei Yan pressed further, he would be as tactless as Yang Yi, and he had no wish to stoop to Yang Yi’s level.

Zhuge Liang signaled Ma Su to proceed, but after Wei Yan and Yang Yi’s altercation, the atmosphere was awkward—some sat in the corners, exchanging glances, clearly savoring the earlier drama. Seeing this, Zhuge Liang could only announce a temporary recess.

Everyone exited the tent, except Wei Yan, who stayed behind hoping to explain his plan further and persuade the Prime Minister to change his mind. He waited a long time, but never heard an invitation to the inner tent. Just as he was growing puzzled, Zhuge Qiao emerged, apologetic.

“General Wei, I am sorry. The Prime Minister is suddenly unwell and cannot discuss military affairs with you. Please return for now; the Prime Minister will summon you when he is able.”

Wei Yan’s face fell. He was no fool—he could read the meaning. Zhuge Liang had no intention of discussing the plan further; his public words earlier had merely been to give Wei Yan face.

Wei Yan was deeply disappointed. He looked up, sighed, and muttered, “I didn’t expect that boy to be right after all.”

Zhuge Qiao’s eyes flickered; he couldn’t help but ask, “General, was this truly Ziyu’s plan?”

Wei Yan realized he had let something slip, but did not explain. He shook his head and left the tent. Zhuge Qiao hurried after him, but Wei Yan was already mounted, leaving the camp surrounded by his guards. Zhuge Qiao stood where he was, his gaze shifting, his expression changing for a moment. Then, gritting his teeth, he turned back into the tent.

Zhuge Liang sat behind his desk, brows tightly knitted. Ma Su sat opposite him, equally troubled. Both were silent until Zhuge Qiao entered, prompting them to look up in unison.

“He’s gone?”

“He’s gone,” Zhuge Qiao replied, biting his lip and hesitating.

Zhuge Liang and Ma Su exchanged glances, frowning. “If you have something to say, speak plainly. Why the hesitation?”

Zhuge Qiao glanced timidly at Zhuge Liang. “Father, just now General Wei said that Wei Ba did indeed mention something.”

“He said something?” Zhuge Liang asked, puzzled. “What exactly?”

Ma Su suddenly recalled the scene when Wei Ba saw them off as they left the camp. He looked up and said, “I understand—Wei Ba also approves of this plan.”

“Does he?” Zhuge Liang’s curiosity was piqued. “What did he say?”

Ma Su recounted the moment, concluding, “It seems he believes this opportunity is rare and should not be missed.”

Zhuge Liang laughed softly, glanced at Ma Su, and shook his head. Ma Su, not understanding, quickly asked, “Prime Minister, why do you say that?”

“Youchang, that was Wei Ba’s opinion months ago. Would he still think the same now? If so, then that jade I gave him would have been for nothing.”

Ma Su paused, then laughed as well. “Indeed, the Prime Minister is farsighted. With General Zhao’s guidance these past months, Wei Ba surely no longer holds such reckless views. It seems Wei Ba has worked hard these months, while Wei Yan, as a father, hasn’t paid much attention or communicated with his son.”

Zhuge Liang also smiled, his gaze settling on Zhuge Qiao’s face. “Bosong, you’ve worked hard these days. Now that the grain has been delivered, you can rest for a while and spend more time with the younger men in camp—especially Wei Ba. He’s now studying military strategy and martial arts under General Zhao, making rapid progress. Go visit him; it will benefit you both.”

Zhuge Qiao was overjoyed. He understood the implication and nodded eagerly.

Ma Su added, “Prime Minister, regardless, it’s impressive that Wei Ba had such insight months ago. Now, after General Zhao’s tutelage, should we bring him into the Prime Minister’s residence to work alongside Bosong?”

“I do intend to,” Zhuge Liang scratched his head, showing a hint of difficulty. “But Lord Wei is a problem. His animosity toward the Wei family hasn’t lessened; I fear he may clash again with Wei Ba.”

Ma Su thought it over and smiled, “That’s easily resolved. Since Wei Ba now knows military strategy, let him assist Bosong in the Eastern Three Prefectures—there’s no need for him to meet Lord Wei. Besides, I sense Wei Yan values this son highly; he likely won’t oppose Wei Ba earning merit.”

Zhuge Liang’s eyes brightened; he smiled and nodded. He glanced at Zhuge Qiao, who was delighted and grateful, giving Ma Su an appreciative look.

…

Wei Ba returned to camp and immediately sensed a different atmosphere. His father, Wei Yan, paced in front of the main tent with hands behind his back, sighing repeatedly. His elder brother, Wei Feng, stood nearby with his sword, head lowered, looking troubled and hesitant to offer advice. The usually mischievous Wei Wu was practicing swordplay with unusual seriousness—not fooling anyone, least of all Wei Ba, who saw it was merely an act to avoid angering their father and being beaten.

Wei Ba approached Wei Feng and asked quietly, “What happened?”

Wei Feng’s mouth twitched, leaning forward to whisper in Wei Ba’s ear, “During the council, Dad had another fight with Yang Yi. He’s been like this ever since.”

“Really?” Wei Ba looked at Wei Feng in surprise. “Did Dad lose the argument?”

Wei Feng shrugged and spread his hands, “I don’t think so. Yang Yi was crying like a woman, so Dad probably won. But for some reason, Dad’s face was sour as soon as he walked out. Maybe the Prime Minister reprimanded him?”

Wei Ba considered and agreed it was possible. Though the Prime Minister always gave his father face, quarreling so publicly with Yang Yi—possibly even coming to blows—would surely earn him a scolding. With that thought, he turned to leave, knowing it was best to stay away when his father was in a bad mood to avoid collateral damage.

He had barely turned around when Wei Yan noticed him. Seeing his sheepish demeanor, Wei Yan barked, “Boy, come here!”

Wei Ba looked for help from Wei Feng, who covered his eyes and most of his face, his lips barely moving, voice low as a mosquito, “Brother, you’re on your own.”

“Coward,” Wei Ba muttered, then turned with a bright smile toward his father. Before he could speak, Wei Yan scolded, “Why are you smiling so fake? Be serious.”

Wei Ba immediately dropped the fake smile, stood at attention, and adopted a solemn expression.

Wei Yan glanced at him, a hint of a smile in his eyes, but it quickly faded into disappointment. He sighed deeply, the dejection evident.

“Boy, you were right—the Prime Minister chose the lesser plan.”

Second update—final call for votes for the Three Rivers recommendation! Only three hours left before it ends. Thank you all for your support; Old Zhuang finally got a taste of glory. Haha, it feels great!