Chapter 8: Framed?

As soon as Wei Wuyi gave the order to distribute the meat, several more large cauldrons were set up in the wilderness. Under the direction of the various captains, the soldiers boiled all the wild boar they had hunted. Originally, this was meant to be set aside for Wei Wuyi himself, to supplement his meals over the coming days. Yet, even this was not enough to satisfy over two thousand hungry mouths.

Thus, those archers who could still move took up their weapons and slipped into the forest, ready to hunt with their war bows. Before night fell completely, perhaps they could bring back more game, so their exhausted brothers-in-arms could enjoy a proper meal after a long day's toil.

Of course, all this was done at Wei Wuyi's suggestion. On the path of winning men's hearts, he had become ever more adept. “It's better to share joy with all than to enjoy it alone!” Standing on higher ground, looking down at the smiling faces of the Wei troops—so harmonious and lively—Wei Wuyi nodded with satisfaction.

Who would have thought that just a short while ago, these men had been staring blankly, their faces ashen with despair, like remnants of a broken army?

Wang Xiu also stood nearby, watching. Of all the commanders, the ones closest to Wei Wuyi were Zheng Dali and Wang Xiu. But Zheng Dali was restless by nature and had run off to mingle with the guards, so only Wang Xiu remained by Wei Wuyi’s side to converse with him.

“Young Master, you are compassionate and love your soldiers as your own sons. It is a blessing for the troops!” Wang Xiu said with a smile. Looking at the young man before him, he felt a strange sense of unfamiliarity—as if the Young Master had become a different person in the space of a single day.

Wei Wuyi shook his head dismissively. “It is only a meal of meat. As a superior, I eat well enough on ordinary days. Missing one meal today is no hardship. Besides, it is what my brothers deserve!”

Wang Xiu looked at him in astonishment. Was this the same somewhat arrogant Young Master he had known before? He nodded slightly, forced a smile, and replied, “It is rare and commendable for Young Master to think so. Most generals do not share this view. The status of a general and that of an ordinary soldier—”

Before Wang Xiu could finish, Wei Wuyi interrupted him, his tone firm: “I cannot control others, but in my camp, what I say goes.”

Wang Xiu fell silent, then gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Why did he persist in such thoughts? As a noble, the Young Master had the right to speak thus; as a mere subordinate, it was Wang Xiu’s duty simply to obey. Why torment himself with doubts? Such worries were not his to bear.

Seeing Wang Xiu say no more, Wei Wuyi too fell quiet. Night descended, the surrounding landscape faded into shadow. Relishing the rare coolness of the evening, he reflected on the day's events.

So much had occurred that defied understanding and belief—more drama in a single day than in all his previous twenty-some years. And as the memories of his body’s original owner slowly returned, he understood more of this world—perhaps too much for comfort.

War and death had always seemed distant to him, but now they had come so close. Blood, cruelty, and violence unfolded unceasingly before his eyes. In a sense, all those who died in battle did so because of him. Had “he” not misjudged people and listened to slander, so many would not have perished due to his mistakes.

Yet, for those lucky enough to survive, Wei Wuyi found himself unable even to provide a proper meal. It was laughable that he, who had done nothing, was the only one with meat to eat. When he said he lacked the shamelessness to eat while others starved, it was no exaggeration.

Wei Wuyi relinquished a dinner that meant little to him, never expecting that such a small gesture would move thousands of men so deeply. In his previous life, such a thing would have been utterly impossible, which left him truly ashamed.

But, as his memories returned only slowly, and his body's former owner had been so careless, he still had not figured out the true nature of the war he had joined.

With this in mind, Wei Wuyi turned to Wang Xiu and said, “Master Wang, tell me: what is this war between our Great Wei and the people of Chen really about?” He quickly added, “My headache is severe, and my mind is muddled.” So he offered this as his excuse.

“Yes, sir.”

Wang Xiu bowed deeply and spoke slowly. “Young Master, in this campaign, our Great Wei’s ruler personally led the army—one hundred thousand strong. We marched west from Henei Commandery to attack Chen, aiming the spearhead directly at Changping Pass, the strategic stronghold of the Chen state.”

After a pause, he continued, “If we take Changping Pass, Great Wei will open the gateway both southward and westward—west to strike at Qin, south to join the other states in the heartland.”

“And,” Wang Xiu added with some pride, “we would also exert pressure on the Zhou court and vie for supremacy beneath the heavens.”

This left Wei Wuyi puzzled. Was this Wei state truly the same as his own? If Wei was so powerful, with ambitions to dominate the world, how had he ended up routed and fleeing like a whipped child?

Wei Wuyi was not one to bottle up his thoughts. “If that is so, then where is our hundred-thousand-strong army?” he asked, theatrically glancing around.

Wang Xiu remained unbothered and replied earnestly, “Young Master, we were ordered to garrison Dashiyi with thirty thousand troops to guard the army’s eastern flank—”

“Wait. You said thirty thousand were stationed here? Then why are there only three thousand of us?” Wei Wuyi grew even more confused. What on earth was going on?

Wang Xiu answered, “Originally, there were thirty thousand troops at Dashiyi. But when the Qin in the west learned of our attack on Chen, they gathered one hundred thirty thousand soldiers in just ten days—a force greater and faster than we anticipated.”

He went on, “That is nearly half of Qin’s main strength, putting huge pressure on our campaign. With the fighting at the front fierce, the central command repeatedly ordered troops to reinforce our main force at Changping Pass.”

Wang Xiu's expression grew somber. “After several such transfers, only our division remained here alone to defend this border region.”

As the main army was redeployed, watching his colleagues go off to war and promotion while he was left on the margins, it was no wonder that Wang Xiu felt dispirited.

Wei Wuyi could not help but ask, “Have they just abandoned us here?”

If the enemy broke through this supposedly well-defended area and struck at the rear of the Wei army, disaster would surely follow.

Wang Xiu shook his head with a bitter smile. “That…I cannot say.” As a minor officer, what did he truly know?

Wei Wuyi also shook his head inwardly—he simply lacked experience. As a lowly battalion commander, he was not privy to the secrets of moving tens of thousands of troops.

But Wang Xiu, as if recalling something, added, “Young Master, Cheng Liang—the adjutant—was sent at that time to deliver the central command’s orders. He also brought your appointment as staff officer.”

What was the meaning of this? Transfer out the troops, then assign him a staff officer—and after giving some terrible advice, the man disappeared. Something was definitely off.

“You mean this Cheng Liang only became our staff officer in the last few days?” Wei Wuyi asked in surprise, suddenly realizing he had underestimated the situation.

“Yes, Cheng the adjutant has been here less than three days,” Wang Xiu replied.

Now Wei Wuyi was truly confounded. Thirty thousand men repeatedly transferred away, leaving him and his mere three thousand to fill the gap. This was madness.

But matters of state and war are never mere folly.

More likely, there was a plot at work—either he had been targeted, or he had simply been caught up in someone else’s misfortune. Given his identity as a noble, Wei Wuyi suspected the former.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He burst out, “Who is the bastard who gave these orders? Does he care nothing for the lives of our three thousand men, nor for the overall success of Great Wei?”

There is no worse feeling than being set up—especially when it nearly cost him his life. Wei Wuyi seethed with hatred. He vowed to himself that he would find out who was responsible, and have their head.

For all Wei Wuyi’s fury, Wang Xiu remained silent, standing as motionless as a clay statue. The conflicts at the highest levels of the Wei army were not his to discuss.