Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter Sixty-Nine: Methods

Wang Chuan had already said as much; there was nothing left but to obey. Yet he still could not fathom the prince’s true intentions.

The ruler of Wei was still the ruler of Wei. When Tian Xingzi met him, he was dressed in wide-sleeved robes, sitting in the center of his sleeping quarters, a rare benevolent smile upon his face.

“To think that you would come out of retirement yourself,” the Wei monarch marveled. He held Tian Xingzi in high regard—such a figure, now acting on Wang Chuan’s behalf.

“I believe I’ve met you before, esteemed elder. I was but a child then; you were looking for my elder sister, weren’t you?” The Wei lord recalled. “They say a gentleman acts only when necessary. Are you truly going to help someone like Wang Chuan?”

“Your Majesty, are you well?” Tian Xingzi inquired. “Do you perhaps hold some prejudice against Prince Wang Chuan?”

“Prejudice? Why do so many of you flock around him like stars around the moon? Is it merely because he has achieved mastery in martial arts?” the Wei ruler replied. “He lived in Luo City for over ten years, and in the end left by such underhanded means. Do you think I don’t know him?”

“Let the future generations judge these matters. The world is on the verge of chaos; someone must lead the clan, and Wang Chuan is the most suitable,” Tian Xingzi said. “I have come to request permission to pass through your lands on our return.”

“Permission to pass? Are you here to plead for him and these tens of thousands of Jin troops?” the Wei ruler asked angrily. “How do you intend to persuade me?”

“I have no wish to persuade Your Majesty. For this passage, we are prepared to present a thousand taels of gold and ten thousand bushels of grain to the people of Chu Prefecture and Qing Prefecture. I ask Your Majesty to put the welfare of the people first and not act out of pride,” Tian Xingzi answered.

“A thousand taels of gold, ten thousand bushels of grain—truly generous. Among your lot, that Yang Hao fellow has remarkable boldness. You all have such faith in him?” the Wei ruler sneered. “Very well, send it over. When will it arrive?”

“Within two days,” Tian Xingzi replied, as Wang Chuan had instructed.

“Good. Then I shall thank him on behalf of the people of the two prefectures,” the Wei lord smiled. “Pity that Wang Chuan always likes to proclaim his own virtue, claiming righteousness before acting, just like his father—a shameless thief putting on airs of good reputation, forever hesitant, a true hypocrite! Tell Wang Chuan: I will host a banquet in Luo City for the Jin army, and send escorts along the way. Does he dare come?”

A trap, inviting the enemy in. This Wei ruler, too, played both sides—accepting the money and grain, while continuing to encircle the Jin troops.

“I will relay your words truthfully,” Tian Xingzi nodded. “But the prince differs from the Jin monarch, and from Your Majesty, in crucial ways.”

Tian Xingzi hurried back, eager to see what more he could do to help. This battle could not be lost; victory would bring fame, defeat would ruin reputations. So he laid aside his dignity, running errands for the other side.

“How many Jin troops have arrived? Is it still unclear?” the Wei ruler soon convened his ministers.

“It has been confirmed—forty thousand,” the Deputy Minister of War reported.

“Who leads them, besides Wang Chuan?” the Wei ruler asked.

“Several captains…” The names were not important; then another spoke. “Also, Duan Changfeng—he was the top student in the Jin army’s martial academy a decade ago, spent ten years cultivating at Yunxi Peak.”

“Duan Changfeng? That makes him a renowned general. He too has joined Wang Chuan’s cause?” The Wei lord smiled, finding it amusing. “Where are they now?”

“Qing Prefecture, about a hundred and twenty li to the northwest—this is the latest intelligence. Qing Prefecture has forty thousand defending troops and the protection of city walls. They cannot pass; if our other generals’ forces arrive in time, the Jin army will soon be surrounded.” The War Ministry presented a map. “If I were Wang Chuan, I wouldn’t waste time in Qing Prefecture. Yet, by our observation, their marching route leads toward Luo City.”

“They bypass Qing Prefecture, then move two hundred li in a swift raid—they could reach Luo City within a day or two!”

“They’re heading for Luo City?” The Wei ruler examined the route, laughing coldly.

“Your Majesty, to be safe, we should station heavy troops here as well,” the War Ministry advised.

…

Outside Qing Prefecture’s docks.

Whoosh, whoosh—

The sun had set, yet white sails were rising, and lanterns were being lifted onto the masts.

Lantern light reflected on the shore.

The river flowed clear and pure, highlighting the large characters on the lanterns.

The character “Yang.”

Highly conspicuous.

Yang Hao pulled up a chair and sat at the prow of the great ship, dressed in ordinary clothes. A gentle river breeze lifted his long hair, brows sharp as swords, his gaze deep, quietly watching the water flowing from the distant upper reaches, his face as aloof and refined as the wind.

He raised his brows.

He saw in the distance, across the river, a faint mass of cavalry appearing.

Azure banners—Wei troops.

The sound of hooves grew closer, more distinct.

The crowd on the shore noticed, and a stir began at once.

Dust billowed as the troops galloped toward the docks!

There was a certain tension in the air.

Ma Yi, the Prefect of Qing Prefecture, rode at the head, his eyes narrowed to slits, surveying the line of masts lit by lanterns, focusing on the bold “Yang” character.

“Master Ma, thank you for waiting,” Yang Hao rose and greeted them.

Ma Yi’s face was sullen, unresponsive.

His features were sinister enough to be intimidating.

“Yang Hao, you really brought the money and grain—this is ten thousand bushels?” Ma Yi glanced over.

“Naturally, three hundred bushels here; the rest will arrive within two days,” Yang Hao replied.

Ma Yi’s eyes flickered as he examined the grain ships floating motionless on the river, their scale impressive.

“Who would have thought Prince Wang Chuan would have someone so capable at his side,” Ma Yi smiled mildly. “I glimpsed him from afar when he entered the capital years ago, but he seemed ordinary then, nothing remarkable. Only now do I realize: he is a true dragon soaring the nine heavens.”

To mobilize ten thousand bushels of grain in such a short time—no ordinary feat.

Yang Hao himself had lain dormant for years; today, his true abilities were revealed.

The officials began to unload the grain, proceeding in orderly fashion.

The Wei ruler had given clear instructions: accept the money and grain, but not let a single person escape.

Wang Chuan and his followers had underestimated Wei.

“Master…” An advisor whispered, suggesting whether Yang Hao should be arrested.

“Fool! Remember our true objective—it’s those unruly Jin troops and Wang Chuan. What use is capturing him? Do you expect Wang Chuan to come to his rescue? That would be neither just nor wise.” Ma Yi was no shortsighted man; he commanded his experts, “Follow him quietly…”

They understood immediately—if they tracked Yang Hao, they could trace Wang Chuan.

A clever plan—far superior to theirs.

“Also, find out where this money and grain is coming from!” Ma Yi ordered. “I must know before the second shipment arrives!”

“Yes!” The subordinates began their investigation.

If this route could deliver money and grain here, it might also allow tens of thousands of Jin troops to escape.

If it was all sourced from within Wei, the officials would surely know. They had to block every avenue for Wang Chuan’s escape.

Let this famed Crown Prince of Jin meet his end here. Years ago, he left Wei and made his name; today, he returns only to fall.

Now, ragged commoners began to gather along both banks.

They gazed at the ships and at Yang Hao, then bowed to the ground.

Even with the dignified Prefect present, they paid him no heed.

“What is going on?” Ma Yi realized something was amiss.

His men soon returned with an explanation.

“Master, rumor has it that the Princess’s son is distributing a thousand taels of gold and ten thousand bushels of grain to aid the people—grateful citizens have come to pay their respects.”

Ma Yi looked at Yang Hao, who was already ashore, helping the poor to their feet, disregarding their filth, patiently comforting them.

That man seemed to shine with a warm light, uplifting all around him.

“Despicable! Wang Chuan again!” Ma Yi raged. “This man utterly disgraces the Princess—shameless!”

The Princess was one who devoted herself to the people, compassionate and benevolent; the citizens of Wei remembered her kindness to this day.

But Wang Chuan had always relied on petty favors to win hearts, always aloof, never lowering himself.

Today, the methods were especially base.

“I’ve heard it said that ordinary folk scurry about all day, ultimately just to fill their stomachs. Even the affairs of the court are, at heart, about feeding the people,” Wang Chuan had indeed told Yang Hao this.

Ma Yi now found the people on both banks pitiable—yet infuriating.

Were they truly so ignorant?

Let them not forget it was Wei that raised them. After disasters hit, and before the harvest, aid was sent from other regions, and taxes reduced; if they endured a little longer, hope would return.

But today, outsiders had won them over.

It was like parents who had raised their children for years, only to see them bought for a meal by strangers—how could one not feel bitter?

Enough.

“Wang Chuan is nothing like the Princess—more like his hypocritical father. Clearly a scoundrel, yet always claiming righteousness, wearing the name of a gentleman,” Ma Yi sneered.

No matter; this time, he would pay the price.

“Master!” Suddenly, a young officer cried out, “Yang Hao has fled!”

“What?” Ma Yi started.

He looked around—citizens were dispersing, still discussing Wang Chuan’s kindness, filled with gratitude.

But Yang Hao was gone, having seized the chance to slip away.

“Master, I’ll take men to search. He couldn’t have gone far,” the officer said.

“No need. One man can run fast, but how will tens of thousands escape? Send more scouts—don’t lose track of the Jin troops,” Ma Yi ordered.

It was as if a fox had wandered into the hunter’s house, but the doors and windows were locked—no way out!

Now, all that remained was to wait for their exhaustion, then capture them all in one sweep.

“Wang Chuan, you won’t escape this time!”