Chapter 35: That Force

Only now did he realize he had averted a war of unprecedented scale. Wei Wuji felt a strong sense of awe—the butterfly effect truly worked so swiftly. He sensed that, like the great figures of history, he too could now influence the course of events. It was a pity, he thought, that there was no Nobel Peace Prize in this era; if there were, he was certain he would be more than worthy of receiving it.

The meeting continued. Wei Hongyi and the assembled generals began to discuss plans for the next decisive battle. The most immediate goal for the Wei army was to force Qin into a final confrontation as quickly as possible—at the very least, before the civil unrest in Qi had settled. Yet now, the Qin forces had withdrawn behind the stronghold of Changping Pass, confronting the Wei army from afar. This situation left the generals frustrated. Fighting was not something they feared, but this kind of stalemate left them deeply dissatisfied.

They deliberated for quite some time, expending much energy, yet ultimately came to no real conclusion. The crux of the matter was that Qin simply refused to engage, leaving the initiative in their hands.

As the military council dragged on, Wei Hongyi’s expression grew ever darker. The frustration of having power but no foe to unleash it upon played out plainly on his face.

At this moment, Lü Qingliang, who stood nearby, offered words of comfort, “Your Lordship, there is no need for concern. Qin is in dire straits and cannot endure a prolonged stalemate. They are bound to collapse first.”

Wei Hongyi replied with a bitter laugh, “Strategist, how can I not be concerned? This great war must end swiftly, or the longer it drags on, the more disadvantageous it becomes for us!”

Glancing at the generals, who were still arguing heatedly below, Wei Hongyi gave a cold snort. Yet, in the midst of such noise, his snort was heard by everyone, and all fell silent at once.

“No more arguing!” Wei Hongyi’s command ended the dispute. “Everything depends on when the Qin are willing to come out and fight!”

He continued, “Though the Qin are brave, they are nothing before the might of Great Wei. Why argue over every little detail?”

When he finished speaking, Wei Hongyi’s gaze fell upon Wei Wuji. Regarding his youngest son, he felt a complex and indescribable emotion.

“They say wine leads to mistakes. I should never have drunk so much that day,” Wei Hongyi lamented inwardly.

Yet, though he was often distant with this child, there was no real dislike in his heart. After all, Wei Wuji was the one who most resembled him, more so as he grew older. This inexplicable bond made his feelings toward Wei Wuji even harder to express.

After a long look, Wei Hongyi finally spoke, “Fifth Son, you have rendered valuable service this time. How many heads have you taken?”

“Your Lordship, I have not slain a single man,” Wei Wuji responded plainly.

This left Wei Hongyi momentarily embarrassed.

But Wei Wuji continued, “Though I took no heads myself, my several thousand men fought bravely and slew countless foes. Their courage is my courage, for I shared life and death with them.”

Watching Wei Wuji speak with such composure, Wei Hongyi applauded him heartily. “The valiant sons of Great Wei would never fear a rabble like the men of Chen!”

No sooner had Wei Hongyi spoken than the generals below chorused as if on cue, “Your Lordship is wise!”

Surrounded by flatterers, Wei Wuji could not help but curl his lip. He recalled all too well the sorry state they were in when they faced the Chen army a few days ago. At that time, they were on the verge of collapse, and it was only thanks to his leadership that they had repeatedly escaped disaster.

“Your Lordship, I promised my infantry that they could exchange their military merits for land, wealth, and status,” Wei Wuji quickly stated his intention. A true leader, he thought, was one who secured the welfare of his subordinates—for otherwise, who would follow him in the future?

Wei Hongyi smiled, “Granting land for military merit is already decreed by the laws of Great Wei. Simply tally the results and report them to Headquarters!”

Indeed, Wei Hongyi was generous, freely distributing vast tracts of land. Yet Wei Wuji noticed that he spoke only of land, not of conferring noble titles.

Thus, Wei Wuji’s task was not yet complete. He pressed on, “Your Lordship, there is something I wish to say, though I am unsure if it is appropriate.”

“Speak,” Wei Hongyi permitted.

With permission, Wei Wuji bowed and declared, “On my own authority, I promised my troops that those who distinguished themselves would also be granted noble titles.”

At this, the smile faded from Wei Hongyi’s face.

Wei Wuji explained further, “The situation was urgent at the time, and I had only these two thousand men under my command. To inspire them, I had no choice but to make such a promise.”

He felt his reasoning was sound, but Wei Hongyi’s expression grew darker. The policy of granting land for military merit already brought considerable benefit to common soldiers; to bestow noble titles as well—was that not reckless? If so, would not peasants and laborers stand on equal footing with the gentry?

At this thought, the assembled generals could not remain silent. They were proud men—how could commoners stand beside them in court? Though harmony and camaraderie existed on the surface, deep down their interests were at odds.

Outwardly grim, Wei Hongyi was inwardly pondering, “Granting titles for military merit?” As the ruler of Wei, he himself had no objection to such a system, but it would impact far too many vested interests. The last person who advocated such reform likely had grass growing high on his grave, Wei Hongyi mused.

For the generals, it was acceptable for themselves to be ennobled, but they would never welcome newcomers into the ranks of the titled.

“Prince, since the founding of Great Wei, there has never been such a system. All titles are inherited or promoted, not newly granted,” one general objected.

Another immediately supported him, “Indeed, Prince. If everyone could receive noble rank, the order of Great Wei would collapse.”

Wei Wuji was displeased with these two and retorted, “If military merit can earn land, why not a title?”

But his words had no effect; a third general challenged him, “Surely you know the distinction between high and low? The ruler is the ruler, the subject is the subject—everything must follow the rules, or chaos will ensue.”

Wei Wuji was exasperated. What sort of people were these? They were content with their privileges, indifferent to the lives of others. Their attitude was clear: let us enjoy our rank while you serve and die for us.

But Wei Wuji, being a modern man, was not about to yield so easily. “If all have rendered the same service, why should only the generals be promoted and ennobled? Just because they already have a title?”

His words silenced the room. No one was willing to respond. The atmosphere grew heavy; the generals sat with stern faces, lost in thought.

Wei Hongyi, too, gazed up at the tent’s ceiling, as if searching for something invisible. For a moment, it was as if everyone was avoiding something profound.

Indeed, Wei Hongyi was avoiding the issue. He did not wish to openly side with either Wei Wuji or the generals, even if he believed one of them was right.

For the generals, silence was easier—Wei Wuji’s question had struck a nerve, one they did not wish, nor dare, to probe further.

The uncomfortable silence stretched on, making the entire assembly uneasy.

Then, a young man standing behind Wei Hongyi spoke up, “Fifth Brother, there are rules for a reason. We should abide by them—why disrupt the order?”

Hearing himself addressed as “Fifth Brother,” Wei Wuji knew this must be his second brother, the Second Prince of Wei, Wei Chengze.

“Rules are dead; men are alive. What harm is there in granting titles for military merit? Only by improving the treatment of soldiers on all fronts can we forge an invincible army!” Wei Wuji pressed on, determined to share his vision.

Wei Chengze said no more, realizing it was pointless; he could not change his brother’s mind.

Another voice joined in, “Prince, be content with land for military merit. If not for you, our decisive battle with Qin would already be underway—perhaps we would already have defeated them!”

This was Wu Mingyan, who had once made a sarcastic remark upon Wei Wuji’s arrival.

Wu Mingyan continued, “How should you answer for this lost opportunity, Prince?”

Wei Wuji was infuriated. All his hard work and risk, twisted into blame.

“I risked my life for Wei—win the war, and I’m still in the wrong?” he fumed inwardly.

Faced with this overwhelming opposition, Wei Wuji felt hard-pressed to resist.

PS (Please add to your collection! Please recommend! Thank you for your support!)