Chapter Fifty-One: The Scholar Who Ruined the Nation

"Fan Mengling, as an advisor to the Commander of Central Wu, you must be intimately familiar with the defenses of Suzhou, correct?" Yang Lian asked inside the tent.

Fan Mengling's spirit was waning; he felt utterly miserable. Still within the borders of Wu-Yue, leading fifty soldiers, he had been captured by twenty scouts from Southern Tang, and even as an advisor, he had ended up a prisoner. He felt deeply aggrieved. Under Commander Qian Wenfeng, there were several advisors—Ding Shoujie, Han Mi, and others enjoyed the commander’s favor, so competition was fierce. Seizing an opportunity, Fan Mengling had come to survey the terrain around Changshu, hoping to find a breakthrough, never expecting to encounter soldiers from Southern Tang.

Yet Fan Mengling was resilient; he remained silent in the face of Yang Lian’s questioning.

Yang Lian paced slowly within the tent, then laughed, "The scholar faces the soldier, reason cannot prevail. Fan Mengling, you are a learned man—do you grasp the meaning of this saying?"

Fan Mengling still would not speak.

"I advise you: if you speak now, you may spare yourself much pain. If you wait until torture is applied, everything will be confessed and your body will suffer as well—why endure such hardship?" Yang Lian smiled mildly, leaning closer.

Fan Mengling’s eyes shifted; he swallowed, his Adam’s apple making a faint sound. Yang Lian’s words affected him—he was, after all, flesh and blood; who would not fear pain?

"Are you still thinking of resisting? Let me tell you, I have a hundred ways to make you wish for death. Believe me, I am not lying." Yang Lian smiled, producing a set of bamboo needles, finely sharpened and with handles, resembling small nails.

"If I were to insert these bamboo needles into your calves, thighs, arms, or abdomen, blood would gush forth, staining your skin red. But you think that’s the end? No, far from it. I would then wrap the wounds with cloth."

"In this way, the blood and cloth would congeal together. When the wounds start to heal, I would tear the cloth away. Fan Mengling, imagine how that would feel—a pleasure beyond compare? You would feel the needles shifting within your body, slowly drawn out, leaving behind slender holes, with blood once again welling up."

Yang Lian spoke with chilling cruelty; he did not mind explaining slowly to Fan Mengling. What could a scholar endure? Even the stoutest man would break under such torment, and Yang Lian had other methods as well.

Fan Mengling’s expression changed; he clenched his teeth, fiercely resisting, trying to cast Yang Lian’s words from his mind. Yang Lian continued, now describing another method—mustard. In this era, there was no chili, but spicy foods existed, and mustard was one such substitute. Yang Lian explained the method of forcing mustard, and Fan Mengling’s face changed once more.

"You truly are a demon," Fan Mengling could not help but say.

"Thank you for the compliment." Yang Lian laughed cheerfully; he could see Fan Mengling's resolve weakening. After all, he was merely a scholar, lacking the soldiers’ willpower.

Fan Mengling turned his head aside, furious.

"After all this, will you confess or not?" Yang Lian placed a brush before him.

Fan Mengling sighed. He had only recently pledged himself to Qian Wenfeng, and had no kin in Suzhou; if family were there, he would not dare so easily. He looked at the blank paper before him, took up the brush, and began drawing.

Half an hour later, a map of Suzhou’s defenses lay before Yang Lian, complete with precise troop deployments. Yang Lian examined it and asked, "Are you certain there are no mistakes?"

Fan Mengling forced a bitter smile. "I am imprisoned by the Southern Tang army, my life in your hands—how dare I falsify?"

"Indeed. You cannot escape anyway; if there is anything wrong with this map, your head will not fall so easily." Yang Lian took the map and strolled out, ordering the soldiers at the entrance, "Watch him closely—do not let him escape."

"Rest assured, General. Even if he grows wings, we’ll shoot him down," the soldier replied, laughing.

At that moment, Li Zhenggu was inside the command tent, studying maps. Though his main purpose was to draw the attention of Wu-Yue, he still harbored ambitions for achievement. Yet, with fewer than twenty thousand troops, capturing Suzhou defended by nearly ten thousand would be impossible, especially as Wu-Yue’s reinforcements were arriving, and Southern Tang did not enjoy a numerical advantage.

"Our primary mission remains to draw Wu-Yue’s forces," Li Zhenggu said, frowning.

Just then, his personal guard announced from outside, "Commander, Yang Lian of the Shenwu Army requests an audience."

"Yang Lian? Let him in," Li Zhenggu replied, sounding cordial.

Yang Lian entered, saluted, "Your subordinate greets the Commander."

"No need for formalities, General. How is your injury?" Noticing the bandages on Yang Lian’s shoulder, Li Zhenggu asked.

"Thanks to your grace, Commander, it is no longer serious. The wound is deep, though—it may take ten days or half a month to heal," Yang Lian replied.

Li Zhenggu nodded, recalling that Yang Lian must have something to report. "What brings you here?"

"Commander, this is the defense map of Suzhou drawn by Fan Mengling." Yang Lian handed over the map.

"Oh? This is valuable indeed," Li Zhenggu exclaimed, excited. With Suzhou’s defense map, he could maneuver troops more effectively, striking where the enemy was weak.

He spread the map out; the ink was still drying, but Li Zhenggu could see at a glance that Suzhou’s defenses were formidable. Around Suzhou, relying on Suzhou and Kunshan, Qian Wenfeng had constructed numerous fortresses, each garrisoned by about a hundred men, stockpiling arrows, stones, and logs—purely military strongholds for defense.

Li Zhenggu counted roughly fifty such fortresses; Fan Mengling may not have listed all of them, so the actual number was likely even greater.

"This Qian Wenfeng has truly poured in resources," Li Zhenggu muttered, frowning.

Yang Lian shook his head. Although Changshu had fewer fortresses, it was likely because its northern position made it less suitable for overall defense, so Qian Wenfeng had drawn the defensive line back to Kunshan. For Southern Tang, even if they seized Changshu, it would not matter much.

Yang Lian offered a friendly reminder, "Commander, Fan Mengling is Qian Wenfeng’s advisor. Even if the information is accurate, his sudden disappearance will not escape notice. I believe this defense map will lose its usefulness within a day or two."

Hope gleamed in Yang Lian’s eyes. If Li Zhenggu would agree to attack, even if Suzhou could not be taken, at least a few fortresses might fall.

Li Zhenggu nodded, misunderstanding his intent, and tapped the table lightly. "In that case, we must not act rashly."

A true scholar, lacking the ambition for bold action. Yang Lian was thinking of striking quickly before Qian Wenfeng could respond, but Li Zhenggu interpreted his warning as a reason for caution. Yang Lian sighed inwardly; indeed, those of different paths cannot work together. Still, he needed them now, even sought to build good relations—Southern Tang’s factional struggles were not to his liking; he disliked officials like Feng Yansi and Feng Yanlu manipulating power, and detested Song Qiqiu’s arrogance. But dislike was one thing; Yang Lian needed them to achieve his goals.

In another sense, sycophants had their uses.

Yang Lian considered for a moment, then said, "Commander, since Qian Wenfeng has not yet reacted, why not lead a surprise attack on a few fortresses, to teach Wu-Yue a lesson?"

Li Zhenggu hardly hesitated before shaking his head. "Yang Lian, as you are close to Prince Qi, I will not keep secrets from you. By imperial command, our main purpose is to draw Wu-Yue’s attention, preventing them from fully supporting the campaign in Fuzhou. For this battle, I seek not merit, but to avoid fault."

Yang Lian was taken aback, thinking to himself, so that’s why. With the tone of this campaign thus set, Li Zhenggu’s seemingly aggressive march was in fact slow and ostentatious, all to attract Wu-Yue’s attention.

He clasped his fists and smiled, "I see."

Li Zhenggu nodded, rubbing his forehead. "You may go now; I need to reflect further."

Yang Lian withdrew, leaving the command tent with complicated feelings. When he returned to camp, Lin Renzhao and Chen Tie were there; their injuries were minor. Seeing Yang Lian return, Lin Renzhao rose and asked, "Brother Yang, where have you been? Why not rest and heal?"

Yang Lian forced a smile, relating what had happened, and urged them, "This must not be leaked."

Lin Renzhao and Chen Tie understood its importance and quickly agreed. After a pause, Lin Renzhao said, "I did not expect the Emperor’s intentions to be thus. But will this really help the campaign in Fujian?"

Chen Tie grunted, "Wu-Yue has sent troops several times to support Fuzhou, wanting to keep it as a base against Southern Tang—ambitious as wolves, we must be vigilant."

Yang Lian nodded. "Li Renda acts for his own interests, unwilling to be swallowed by Southern Tang; but chase away the tiger, and the wolf enters after. Whether Southern Tang or Wu-Yue wins, Fuzhou will never remain in Li Renda’s hands."

Lin Renzhao nodded silently. The fall of Min was already a foregone conclusion; though he was reluctant, there was nothing to be done. Yet he had not decided what path to take next. Lin Renzhao had ambition—he would not settle for a minor post commanding a handful of men.

His gaze swept over Yang Lian, and Lin Renzhao’s eyes brightened. This man, righteous and loyal, acquainted with Prince Qi, and viewed differently by Li Zhenggu, might be a worthy leader to follow. But what was his goal? Lin Renzhao felt he could not see through Yang Lian, uncertain what course he would pursue.

A common soldier? A great general? A powerful minister? In these times, when dynasties changed as easily as eating a meal, might he even supplant this decaying regime? For a moment, Lin Renzhao’s imagination soared, but he quickly shook his head—he was thinking too much. Still, one thing was clear: attaching himself to Yang Lian seemed a wise choice.