Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 67: The Situation

A true gentleman should perceive his circumstances and uphold his principles, never abandoning his pursuits or convictions lightly for the sake of the environment. Yet it seems that Confucianism sometimes offers the opposite as an example.

Duan Changfeng pondered for a moment, then replied, “Back then, Mencius did not entirely reject Feng Fu’s actions. Your Highness knows that when Feng Fu resumed his tiger hunting, he was actually supported by the people; it was only the scholars who mocked him. Would a gentleman forsake his principles in his heart simply because of such ridicule? Mencius’s disciples also pleaded with him to persuade the King of Qi to open the granaries and aid the suffering populace—did he refuse to help the needy because he feared the scholars’ derision?”

“Not exactly. When Mencius spoke those words, the King of Qi no longer wished to employ him nor heed his counsel. Mencius understood this, and was already preparing to leave Qi. That is why he spoke as he did. It is much like Feng Fu’s tiger hunting: if he refrains from doing it again, the people are in peril and in need of him; if he continues, he abandons his own aspirations and beliefs, and is mocked by the scholars. Mencius faced the same dilemma: if he did not try again to persuade the King, the disaster victims would truly be left unaided; if he did, knowing the King would not listen and that he himself was preparing to depart, he would be relinquishing his own plan to leave. Moreover, if he tried again, he would surely face ridicule from those favored by the King. Weighing the outcome, he chose not to ‘become Feng Fu once more.’ In fact, the disciple Chen Zhen understood his teacher’s situation and feelings. So, after expressing the hope of everyone, he immediately said, ‘It is likely impossible to repeat.’”

“‘To recklessly fight tigers without end must surely bring harm.’”

“Excellent! If we act with a clear conscience, true to heaven and earth, why should we fear the scorn of the gentlemen? Those Confucian scholars are narrow-minded in this regard.” Wang Chuan offered a rare reminder. “Yang Hao, remember never to forget your original intention in the days to come…”

“I shall remember it well,” Yang Hao replied earnestly.

“It’s your turn!” Wang Chuan placed his final chess piece, pointing at Duan Changfeng. “You’re up.”

The game was decided!

Duan Changfeng stared at the board, deeply shocked. The others could not help but feel invigorated.

“What does Your Highness wish me to do?” Duan Changfeng asked.

“Let’s discuss it together,” Wang Chuan glanced around. “Where is Tian Xingzi? Has he left?”

If he had left, it would be a relief.

Wang Chuan always found the man bothersome.

“Your Highness seeks me?”

At that moment, a figure appeared silently.

Xu Wei was startled, instinctively grabbing Wang Chuan’s sleeve.

Wang Chuan slightly regretted mentioning him—speak of the devil and he appears.

“Never mind, let’s discuss our next steps. You all know the situation and have considered it, I trust. What are your suggestions?” Wang Chuan asked.

“Your Highness, from what I see, there are only two routes back to Yangcheng: through Wei or through Tang.” Yang Hao immediately spread out a map for them. “I’ve consulted the officers, and on our way here, we took Tang’s territory, passing from here…”

His finger traced a shallow line, marking their marching path.

“As for our return, the choice depends on the attitudes of both countries,” Yang Hao observed.

“What sort of person is the ruler of Tang?” Wang Chuan tapped the Tang region on the map.

He was already familiar with Wei, and the others knew something as well.

“It seems the throne has not changed; the Tang ruler remains who he was…” Duan Changfeng was not completely isolated from the outside world; in the past decade, he occasionally descended the mountain and exchanged letters, so he knew some national affairs. “That emperor is incompetent!”

Such was his succinct appraisal.

“Indeed, incompetent and fond of beauty,” Yang Hao glanced at several officers. “They say that when Tang was used as a passage, the ruler of Jin gifted several beauties. If it’s truly that simple, we could follow suit and return through Tang.”

“It’s not so simple. The Tang ruler may be foolish, but there are cunning ministers controlling the court! The one in power is Grand Tutor Wang…” Tian Xingzi revealed more. “Jin’s ruler got passage not merely by sending beauties, but by bribing other ministers while Grand Tutor Wang was absent from the capital, thereby forming an alliance. Grand Tutor Wang returned the other day, dismissed several ministers in anger. Returning through Tang is now impossible; he is no fool. If he mobilizes troops to destroy us, I wouldn’t be surprised!”

“Surely Jin’s ruler knew the situation. Why did he proceed as he did?” Yang Hao wondered.

“The ruler of Jin is even more inscrutable. He must have a scheme; even if tens of thousands of soldiers perish, he will not let them die in vain. When have you ever seen him suffer a loss?” Tian Xingzi grew increasingly unable to fathom him. “Since he’s made this move, he must have already set the stage—he’s plotting something!”

“Then it’s simple. Once we clarify his intention, we can choose what best serves us,” Wang Chuan said.

“Your Highness knows already?” Duan Changfeng looked at him with surprise and delight.

“I do not, nor do I wish to,” Wang Chuan replied indifferently.

Uh…

The atmosphere seemed to freeze for a moment.

“But just like playing chess, we must not only plan three moves ahead,” Wang Chuan tapped the chess piece lightly. “We need to anticipate the opponent’s next move. And we must not let them know our next move—only then can we win by surprise. The art of war lies in winning by the unexpected, conforming by the orthodox; nothing more.”

“Your Highness speaks wisely, it seems you already have a plan,” Duan Changfeng said in awe.

He himself had only vague ideas, without a clear strategy.

“Does Your Highness have a solution?” Yang Hao was also mildly astonished.

Some people always seem to have victory in their grasp.

“The ruler of Jin appears to have calculated everything. Let’s test him then,” Wang Chuan laughed coldly, a hint of meaning in his eyes.

The others didn’t dwell on it, but Xu Wei, attentive, noticed he never directly referred to his father as emperor, confirming rumors of their strained relationship.

She gently squeezed his hand, trying to comfort him.

“The matter of passage reminds me of the ancient Shu kingdom and the Five Mighty Men who opened the mountain,” Wang Chuan mused.

Everyone understood the reference.

After Can Cong and Yu Fu, the ancient Shu kingdom flourished and held a strategic, defensible position, making it difficult for Qin to conquer. The first task was to open a road into the mountains.

King Hui of Qin devised a plan. He had five massive stone oxen carved and transported to the border of Shu, then secretly placed gold behind their tails. He quickly spread the rumor that divine oxen had descended, capable of excreting gold. The king of Shu, upon hearing this, believed the stone oxen were sacred, and sent envoys to request them. King Qin agreed, but claimed the oxen were too large to move. The king of Shu, in a moment of foolishness, ordered strong men to carve a smooth mountain road between Qin and Shu, so the oxen could be brought over. Once the oxen arrived, the king waited daily by their tails, hoping for golden dung, but the oxen remained inert, and he realized he had been deceived. Enraged, he sought to return the oxen, but Qin’s envoy claimed they too were victims, not intentional deceivers, and offered an exquisite beauty as compensation. Hearing of the beauty, the king of Shu was tempted, and sent for her from Qin. To ensure a smooth journey, he ordered the road to be made even smoother. Thus, a broad highway from Qin to Shu was created, and Qin prepared its troops for the fatal blow. When Shu attacked the Ba kingdom, King Qin dispatched Zhang Yi and Sima Cuo to invade Shu. Surrounded, Shu was swiftly conquered, and its once-glorious kingdom perished.

“In the Spring and Autumn era, the Duke of Jin sought passage through Yu to attack Guo,” Duan Changfeng recalled another tale. “Duke Jin again sought passage from Yu to attack Guo. Gong Zhiqi advised: ‘Guo is Yu’s shield. If Guo falls, Yu will follow. Jin’s ambition must not be aided, and foreign enemies must not be ignored. Granting passage once is excessive; twice is unthinkable. The proverb says, ‘The lips and teeth depend on each other; without lips, the teeth freeze.’ This describes Yu and Guo’s relationship.’

But the Duke of Yu replied, ‘Jin is our kin; how could they harm us?’

Later, Jin’s army camped in Yu on their return, seized the opportunity to attack Yu, and destroyed it. They captured the Duke of Yu and the minister Jing Bo, making them part of the dowry for Jin’s daughter, Qin Muji, but did not abolish Yu’s ancestral rites, instead assigning Yu’s tributes to the Zhou royal house.”

Politics is always sordid. Now, with Jin’s ruler seeking passage through Tang to retrieve the crown prince, no one would believe he has no ulterior motives.

The Tang ruler is incompetent, but there are clever people in Tang who will not so easily allow Jin’s army to return.

The situation is daunting—if Wang Chuan cannot bring these tens of thousands of soldiers home, his prestige will be utterly ruined.

So the test posed by Jin’s ruler is far from ordinary.

“I am not familiar with Tang’s side; we’ll discuss that later,” Wang Chuan said to Duan Changfeng. “If we take the route through Wei, it’s the closest. If you were the ruler of Wei, what would you do?”

“I’ve heard of some events between the two nations; their relations are not what they once were, and Your Highness has unresolved matters with Wei,” Duan Changfeng sighed. “If I were the ruler of Wei, I would never let Jin’s army pass—surround but not destroy!”

Wang Chuan nodded; it matched his own thinking. The ruler of Wei was likely to do just that.

He would encircle the Jin army, with no concern for their survival.

Then, he would wait for Jin’s ruler to respond.

If he remained indifferent, the Jin army would perish in foreign lands, and Jin’s ruler’s prestige would be destroyed.

But if he tried to rescue them, it was far too distant, and on Wei’s territory—possessing all the advantages; no matter how many reinforcements came, they would be annihilated.

Even if it escalated to a national war, these tens of thousands would be mere burdens—impossible to save, yet impossible to abandon.

Yang Hao was also reluctant to advocate returning through Wei. The route was shortest, but most perilous.

It seemed a vast net had been spread ahead, waiting for their arrival.

“What if we try returning through Tang?”