Chapter 36: Ultimately Departing in Sorrow

Daunted by Wu Mingyan’s rank as the Pillar Marshal of the state, Wei Wuji was unwilling to fall out with him outright; the curse that had surged to his lips was thus swallowed back. More than ever, Wei Wuji was convinced that this old fox Wu Mingyan simply couldn’t stand him—why else would he show up at such a critical moment just to undermine him?

But not everyone was devoid of a sense of justice. As Wei Wuji fell into disappointment and isolation, a voice as clear as heavenly music sounded by his ear.

“General Wu, Young Master Wuji’s troops fought the Chen invaders with blood and valor, choosing death over surrender and ultimately repelling a formidable foe. Such deeds are worthy of song and tears—how is it, then, that in your eyes, he deserves only punishment?”

Xu Anhong’s bright, ringing voice struck Wu Mingyan squarely across the face.

At moments such as this, the only men with the standing to speak so to Wu Mingyan were Lord Wei and Xu Anhong himself.

Xu Anhong followed with another sharp remark: “Or have you truly grown senile?”

Xu Anhong’s words so infuriated Wu Mingyan that he nearly erupted on the spot, but under the watchful gaze of Lord Wei, he managed to tamp down his rage.

Why would Xu Anhong speak in Wei Wuji’s defense? Wu Mingyan knew the answer well. Xu Anhong had once been of common birth, rising to his current eminence only after countless hardships and trials.

Thus, Xu Anhong was not merely speaking for Wei Wuji; he was speaking for himself, and for the countless ordinary soldiers of Wei. Because of Xu Anhong’s steadfast devotion to this cause, no one could deny his sense of justice. This had earned him great respect among the rank-and-file soldiers. Even Wu Mingyan, scion of a noble family, could not suppress Xu Anhong’s growing influence.

Now Xu Anhong rose and saluted Wei Hongyi. “My lord, in my humble opinion, the young master’s command in battle was valiant and praiseworthy. He must be rewarded.”

Xu Anhong continued solemnly, “Otherwise, in future wars, how can we expect our soldiers to face death without fear?”

Having been addressed so directly, Wei Hongyi had no choice but to respond. With a wave of his hand, he gestured for Xu Anhong to sit, then replied slowly, “Loyal service and selfless sacrifice for the state should, of course, be rewarded.”

Wei Wuji felt a weight lift from his heart. He shot a fierce glare at Wu Mingyan before withdrawing his gaze.

Ah! He had nearly forgotten something. Hastily, he added, “Your servant offers thanks to my lord.” One could not expect reward without first expressing gratitude—not so easily, at least.

This time, kneeling before his father did not feel nearly so humiliating. Not only was he growing accustomed to it, but his spirits were much improved as well.

Yet Lord Wei’s next words nearly sent Wei Wuji crashing back to earth.

Wei Hongyi said, “Young Master Wuji’s temporary increase in land grants during the war exceeded the normal standards. However, as a reward for his valor, the state treasury will make up the difference for that portion of fine farmland.”

But the matter was far from settled. Wei Hongyi continued, “But as for ennoblement by military merit, let us speak no more of it.”

Seeing his father’s unequivocal refusal, Wei Wuji could not help feeling unwilling.

“My lord…”

Wei Wuji was about to explain when Wei Hongyi forcibly cut him off. “The laws of the state cannot be lightly transgressed. In Wei, we uphold the distinctions of rank and seniority—clear and inviolable. If today one may earn a title by merit, what is to stop everyone from gaining nobility?”

“If titles become as common as grass, what remains of the dignity of our noble system?” Wei Hongyi’s voice had grown cold.

Wei Wuji did not understand—what was so wrong with ennoblement for military merit? Was it truly as fearsome as some monstrous beast?

Yet as he surveyed the faces in the hall, understanding dawned. He realized his own naivety; the benefits that seemed obvious to him would not have escaped Lord Wei or the others present.

So why did they all oppose it? Was it not because such a policy would greatly harm the interests of those at the top? What they had always received while lying idle, now others would be allowed to contend for. How could they ever agree to such a thing?

And as for Lord Wei himself, he naturally had to obey the will of the majority. Whatever he might feel in his heart, his words and stance must be impeccably correct.

Standing at the center of the command tent, Wei Wuji bowed low to Lord Wei. “Your lordship’s instruction, I will never forget.”

For the first time, Wei Wuji brushed against the world of power and intrigue—its baseness and filth.

Lord Wei gave no comment on Wei Wuji’s declaration, simply waving his hand to dismiss him.

Wei Wuji was silent after that, content to observe the remainder of the meeting.

But the proceedings left him somewhat bewildered—they were, quite literally, doing accounts.

A cavalry general reported, “My unit retains ten thousand fit riders, thirty thousand horses, requiring funds and provisions…”

An infantry general said, “Within three days, my unit will require…”

Through careful calculation, the generals of Wei reported the essentials needed for the coming days.

Lord Wei then approved each request. With a written order from him, each general could collect what he needed from the quartermasters.

Strictly speaking, once everyone had reported their needs, the meeting was effectively over.

One by one, the generals departed with their writs, leaving the command tent increasingly empty.

When only Xu Anhong and Wu Mingyan remained, along with Wei Wuji, Lord Wei, and his attendants, the place grew still.

In that enclosed space, Wei Wuji suddenly felt stifled; he wanted nothing more than to escape and return to his own “home.”

I may truly have come to regard the camp as home, Wei Wuji thought wryly. Even in the purest days of his former life, he’d never considered his school a home.

“Fifth, do you remember the casualty figures and enemy heads taken by your various brigades?” Lord Wei asked from his seat on high.

“I do,” Wei Wuji replied, bowing his head in respect.

He then recited all that he knew. Fortunately, he had done his homework beforehand; otherwise, had he been unable to answer, his reputation would have been ruined.

“All right, you may go for now. Let us tally all things slowly upon our triumphant return,” Lord Wei said, waving him off.

This was exactly what Wei Wuji had been waiting for. Since his father had dismissed him, why linger where he was unwanted?

Wei Wuji withdrew quietly from the command tent. Outside, dusk was falling. Though the meeting had produced little of substance, Wei Wuji’s knowledge had grown considerably.

Outside the tent, he picked up his sword and made his way toward the gate.

At the main entrance, he saw Zheng Dali and four attendants sitting on the ground, lost in conversation.

As Wei Wuji approached within several paces, they finally noticed him and scrambled to their feet to salute.

“Greetings, young master!”

“Enough with the formalities. Let’s go—time to eat!” Wei Wuji said impatiently, urging them on.

On the way, Zheng Dali seemed to want to speak, but kept hesitating.

Suddenly, Wei Wuji stopped and faced him. “Dali, if you have something to say, spit it out.”

“It’s nothing…” Zheng Dali replied with an awkward grin, but clearly he was not being honest.

“Speak!” Wei Wuji said coldly. If he didn’t lay down some rules, this fellow would go on joking and loafing forever.

Scratching his head, Zheng Dali said sheepishly, “Young master, you haven’t forgotten the matter the brothers entrusted to you, have you?”

Wei Wuji looked at Zheng Dali as if he were an idiot. Of course he hadn’t forgotten—if he had, he wouldn’t have been berated by so many people inside just now.

“And the result…?” Zheng Dali pressed.

“You want to know the result?” Wei Wuji resumed walking, glancing back as he spoke.

“Yes…” Zheng Dali answered.

“I’ll announce it tomorrow morning,” Wei Wuji said.

He couldn’t bear to let his men know just yet. If those who most hoped for reward found their harvest barren, they’d scarcely sleep.

“Come, let’s go back,” Wei Wuji said, leading the way.

Compared to Wei Wuji’s somewhat desolate figure, the army tents behind him, stretching upward as if to pierce the heavens, seemed all the more dazzling.