Chapter 188
"If the princess is willing, Xiao Li could also..."
Having been at the Northern Border for so long, Xiao Li had more or less learned the general details of Wei Qishan and his deceased wife.
Now, hearing him mention his late wife again, what instinctively came to Xiao Li's mind was the countless times Wen Yu had turned away from him.
Wei Qishan's wife had chosen to end her life when there was no hope of restoring the Jin dynasty.
To achieve her revenge, Wen Yu had been willing to marry King Chen, and when that failed, she had even borne a child with Jiang Yu to secure power.
In a way, they were somewhat similar.
But back then, Wei Qishan had been held back by the barbarians and constrained by concerns for the people of the Northern Border, not daring to confront Liang Chengzhu and Wen Shi'an—ultimately, he had not been strong enough.
Xiao Li would not follow in those footsteps.
His jaw tightened slightly as he lifted his gaze. "So the Marquis is 'begging' me to become a minister of Jin?"
Wei Qishan stared at him for a long time, his eyes filled with the weariness of defeat by time and helplessness.
Though reluctant to admit it, in the past, while relying heavily on Xiao Li, he had also tried to tighten a leash around his neck, fearing that this unruly young man, wild as a wolf on the plains, would grow too powerful and one day threaten his position in the Northern Border, replacing him.
Now, he had to beg the other to take over everything he had painstakingly built.
Suppressing the bitterness in his heart, Wei Qishan said slowly, "The Northern Wei has always claimed to be restoring the Jin dynasty. If you change the banner overnight after taking over, it will harm both our external reputation and internal military reorganization. If you wish to establish your own banner, you can wait until the time is ripe."
He was giving Xiao Li what he would soon obtain anyway, using time and a legitimate pretext to contend for the highest position in exchange for Xiao Li taking over the Northern Border in a more moderate manner, preserving the final dignity of him and the Wei camp.
From then on, the Northern Wei would no longer be the Wei family's Northern Wei.
In a few years, perhaps even the name "Northern Wei" would cease to exist.
But this was enough.
He had spared the people of the Northern Border from further war under his rule, prevented his generals from following him to a dead end and dying in vain, and secured a chance of survival for the Wei clan.
With this, he could journey to the afterlife with peace of mind.
Too many unspoken words were hidden in Wei Qishan's heavy, sorrowful gaze.
Xiao Li endured his stare and said, "I understand."
His voice was hard. "If the young master of the Wei residence remains sufficiently docile, I can agree to the Marquis's earlier words. But if he causes trouble..."
He left the rest unsaid. Wei Qishan continued, "I will teach him well."
After a pause, he finally added, "Thank you..."
Thank you for being willing to preserve this dignity for him.
Xiao Li only replied, "I have no desire for the people to suffer, either. This is merely an exchange of needs," and turned to leave. Wei Qishan stopped him. "One more thing."
Xiao Li halted.
Wei Qishan said, "Princess Han Yang wishes to see you."
As the year drew to a close, the snow seemed to fall endlessly from morning till night.
Wen Yu sat in the lakeside pavilion, its entrance shielded by a wind-blocking bamboo screen, resting her cheek on her hand as she gazed at the snowy landscape where water and sky merged into one.
The bamboo screen at the pavilion's entrance was lifted, and the biting cold wind dispersed some of the warmth from the charcoal fire inside.
Wen Yu turned her head and saw Tong Que holding up the screen, Zhao Bai standing guard with his sword on the other side outside the pavilion, while Xiao Li's tall frame leaned slightly, bowing his head to avoid the screen as he stepped inside.Snowflakes clung to his lapel, the chill of the blizzard still clinging to his robes. Having grown even thinner than before, the sharpness of his brows and eyes seemed more pronounced.
It had been over a month since their parting at the mountain hermitage. Now seated across from each other, neither spoke.
When the kettle on the red clay stove boiled, Wen Yu lifted it to pour him tea and finally said, "The snow is heavy outside. Have a bowl of hot tea."
The man opposite her replied, "I've come to fetch General Yuan."
Wen Yu's hand holding the teapot paused slightly. The teacup overflowed as she filled it to the brim.
Her expression revealed nothing. Only after setting down the teapot did she lift her gaze to meet his. "So you've made your choice?"
Xiao Li met her gaze calmly. The former ferocity and aggressive intensity in his eyes had been tempered into something more steady and profound. "Yes."
Wen Yu was silent for a moment before the corners of her mouth slowly curved upward. "Why?"
Xiao Li countered, "Would the princess be willing to divorce King Chen and choose me?"
Without waiting for her answer, he continued with cold, ruthless determination, "If the princess would, Xiao Li could also abandon honor and loyalty."
His former ferocity and sharp edges seemed to seep through that newfound steadiness.
After the battles at Yanle Mountain and Luodu, with Liao Jiang dead and Wei Qishan ill, Northern Wei had no worthy successors and its decline was evident.
Not taking advantage of their misfortune was, in his view, the greatest mercy he could show Northern Wei.
Wei Qishan, foreseeing the inevitable outcome, had entrusted the entire Northern Wei to him on his deathbed.
But should Wen Yu say the word, he would discard that worthless honor and seize everything by force.
Yet after gazing at the steaming teacup before her for a long while, Wen Yu only answered, "I understand."
Her expression was so placid it was impossible to discern the regret and sorrow in her eyes. "General Yuan is staying in Minister Li's courtyard. I'll have someone summon him immediately."
Outside, Tong Que received the order and promptly sent an Azure Guard to the guest quarters with the message.
She glanced worriedly toward the pavilion.
But through the bamboo curtain, she could only make out the blurred silhouettes of two people sitting across a low table.
Neither moved nor spoke again.
For a time, only the howling wind and raging snow filled the lakeside pavilion and its surroundings.
Soon, an Azure Guard came to report that Yuan Fang had been brought.
Something seemed to simmer in the cold depths of Xiao Li's eyes as he asked one final question, "Even now, does the princess still choose Southern Chen?"
Wen Yu didn't look at him. She picked up the overfilled teacup from earlier and took a sip, her long lashes lowering. "The Lord of Xiao now commands troops himself. You should understand that some decisions cannot be made for oneself alone."
The alliance between Liang and Chen had lasted too long, their interests too deeply intertwined to be separated.
A rash decision from her could lead to unimaginable bloodshed below.
Previous generations often lamented about fate and circumstance. Today, she finally understood the weight of those words.
Xiao Li's eyes turned icy cold, a faint, mocking smile tugging at his lips. "May the princess remember today's choice. Farewell."
He rose, lifted the curtain, and strode out. Outside the pavilion, Zhao Bai's face was like frost, his thumb pushing his sword an inch out of its scabbard as if to block the way, but Tong Que quickly restrained him.
Along the long path from the lakeside pavilion to the shore, exposed to wind from all sides and water on three, snowflakes once again settled on Xiao Li's cloak. His lips pressed into a tight line, he never looked back.
Inside the pavilion, Wen Yu watched the snow-blanketed lake view through the partially raised bamboo curtain. She lifted the teacup before her and took another sip, not turning her gaze aside either.The tea had long gone cold, leaving only a bitter astringency lingering between the teeth.
The heavy snow continued to fall in flurries. Tong Que carefully lifted the bamboo curtain and hesitantly called out, "Princess?"
Wen Yu said, "We return to Southern Chen. The Grand Tutor's recent letters have grown increasingly urgent—I fear we can no longer delay Empress Dowager Jiang and her faction. As for besieging Luodu to rescue my sister-in-law and A Yin, that task shall be entrusted to General Fan."
—
On the day Wen Yu's carriage departed Fengyang, the allied forces of Liang and Wei, honoring their prior agreement, jointly marched on Luodu.
On the vast, snow-covered official road, deep wheel ruts stretched into the distance, gradually obscured by the footprints of the following troops.
The former residence of Changlian Wang in Fengyang, which had been commandeered by Pei Song as his quarters after the rebel forces entered the city, remained largely intact.
However, when the rebels withdrew, they had thoroughly looted the estate. Many large vases and artifacts too cumbersome to carry away had been smashed to pieces.
The white jade screen carved with the "Ode to the Goddess," still a subject of fervent discussion among the common folk, lay shattered in the storehouse, its original form irrecoverable.
When Zhang Huai arrived with urgent dispatches from the Northern Border and found Xiao Li, he saw him in the dust-laden storehouse of the estate, patiently piecing together the long-shattered jade screen—now sullied by the muddy footprints of Pei's soldiers who had emptied the storehouse—restoring a semblance of its former appearance.
Zhang Huai felt an inexplicable pang of dread.
Pausing at the doorway to steady his breath, he finally spoke: "Prefect, a letter from Dingzhou—the Marquis of Shuobian is unlikely to survive."
Xiao Li fitted the final shard of jade into the "Ode to the Goddess" and responded with a faint, "Hmm."
—
The relentless wind and snow persisted, dusk approaching as the sky grew increasingly leaden.
Wei Ang rode up to the carriage window and reported, "Marquis, this subordinate has led a team to inspect the North Desert River. It has frozen over—boats cannot pass, but for carriages and horses to cross, it needs another night of freezing."
The iron-clad window was pushed open. Inside, supported by Wei Pingjin, Wei Qishan sat wrapped in a heavy cloak, his hair now entirely ashen like a man in his seventies.
Squinting through the blizzard and mist shrouding the opposite riverbank, he rasped with effort, "Beyond the North Desert River lies Youzhou..."
Wei Ang, aware of his urgency to see Youzhou once more, bowed his head and clenched his fists, eyes reddening. He kept his voice steady, betraying no hint of emotion to Wei Qishan, and vowed, "By noon tomorrow, the army will surely reach Youzhou."
After the devastating defeat at Luodu and news of Liao Jiang's death, Wei Qishan had fallen gravely ill on the return journey to the Northern Border, lingering in Dingzhou for several days.
Seemingly aware his time was short, he insisted on pressing northward to see Youzhou—the land he had guarded for most of his life—one last time.
His subordinates, recognizing the gravity of his condition, dared not oppose him.
Wei Pingjin had already sent for Madam Wei and her daughter from Zhuojun. Upon receiving the news, Wei Ang swiftly handled affairs at Yanle Mountain and led his troops through the night to join them.
Wei Qishan stared fixedly at the North Desert River, frozen solid across the landscape like a silver ribbon, and murmured, "Still tomorrow, then..."
Even coughing now required immense effort. After a few weak, shallow coughs, he breathed raggedly and said, "Then we shall camp here by the North Desert River."
After Wei Ang departed to direct the soldiers in setting up camp, Wei Xian brought a freshly decocted medicinal brew and handed it to Wei Pingjin to administer to Wei Qishan.
Wei Pingjin lifted a spoonful of the dark liquid to his father's pale, ashen lips, fighting back tears as he said, "Father, it is time for your medicine."Wei Qishan did not open his mouth. He seemed lost in some memory, his lips barely moving as he murmured: "After spring begins... the shepherd's purse that grows in the wild is the most delicious. Mixed with coarse flour to make pancakes, or cooked in dough drop soup... both taste wonderful..."
"One year... when your Uncle Liao and I were guarding Youzhou, a landslide from heavy rain blocked the roads. The provisions were delayed for several days. Your Uncle Liao and I led the soldiers to dig up shepherd's purse from the wild to cook with clay to stave off hunger. We stubbornly held out against the barbarians' fierce attacks until reinforcements arrived..."
His voice grew breathy: "I... I'm afraid I won't live to reach Youzhou, nor wait till spring to drink another bowl of shepherd's purse soup..."
Wei Pingjin held the medicine bowl, tears streaming down his face, then suddenly shouted madly: "Pass my order! Break the ice on the river and launch the boats! Also shovel away the snow and search for any shepherd's purse that might have sprouted!"
No one below moved. Wei Pingjin grabbed everything within reach and hurled it at them, roaring hysterically: "Go!"Whether it was carving a navigable path through the frozen river or searching for spring vegetables in the deep snow of harsh winter—both were impossible tasks."
After Wei Pingjin's outburst, the officers below still mustered their troops. Some went to break ice on the river, others to shovel snow in search of wild vegetables.
Wei Pingjin knelt painfully before the carriage seat, wiping his eyes roughly with his sleeve, and said to Wei Qishan, who lay frail as withered wood: "Father, we will reach Youzhou tonight, and we will eat shepherd's purse too!"
By the river, soldiers sharpened wooden stakes and swung hammers to break the ice, quickly creating holes. They cut thick logs, tied ropes to both ends, and threw them into the ice holes, using manpower to widen the gaps in the river's ice.
The sound of crumbling ice falling into the stagnant water below created a continuous rustle, almost as if the river was flowing again.
Wei Qishan leaned his head against the carriage wall, weakly half-closing his eyes, listening to the howling wind and snow outside and the river-like rushing sound. He murmured: "The great river surges... eastward, our generation... mere weeds... ill-fated souls..."
Inside the carriage, Wei Pingjin suddenly let out a grief-stricken cry: "Father—"
Outside, the soldiers were first bewildered, then whether they were breaking ice, shoveling snow for shepherd's purse, or setting up camp, they all stopped their tasks and gradually knelt toward the carriage.
Wei Ang hurried back from the half-pitched camp and knelt with the other Wei generals before the carriage, crying out in extreme sorrow: "Marquis—"
Author's Note: Apologies for the unstable updates recently due to health issues. The story is nearing its end. Readers who find the waiting anxious can save it to read after completion. Red envelopes for you all in this chapter~
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