Chapter 379: Huang Sanjia After the Incident

The Gentleman Huang Longshi After the Fact

The entire court of the Liyang Dynasty enjoys using this phrase to mock someone’s after-the-fact wisdom.

Of course, this after-the-fact wisdom originated from Huang Longshi’s unique invention of Xiangqi (Chinese chess), which replaced the older game of Liubo (also known as Wosuo or Changxing), becoming the second most popular pastime among refined scholars after Go.

In a small teahouse in the Northern Wilderness.

That featherless parrot still likes to call everyone “Grandpa,” the tea shop owner surnamed Huang remains just as unmotivated, the girl who raises a large cat still has a sour face for customers, and with her fishing three days and drying nets for two, the teahouse’s business is as desolate as a graveyard, making Wen Hua, who has yet to earn enough to visit a pleasure house and play the gallant, feel both down below and above his waist.

Today, the teahouse has hung up a wooden sign reading “Closed for Business.” Wen Hua entered the teahouse holding a birdcage. Never neglecting his stomach, he made a fragrant bowl of scallion noodles and began to eat heartily. Old Huang, the teahouse owner, somehow produced three wooden boxes filled with game pieces—two boxes of black and white stones, and one box of colorful glass stones. He cleared the table and started arranging and rearranging them, making Wen Hua quite irritated. Pretending to be mysterious! If he had any talent, he should follow his buddy Xu Fengnian’s example and set up a stall to bet on chess games and earn some coins! Closing the door and pretending to be a Go sage, Go king, or Go immortal—what kind of hero or gallant is that? After finishing his scallion noodles, Wen Hua was considering sneaking into the kitchen for another bowl to reward himself, but thinking about his tight finances, he felt too ashamed to indulge. Not wasting a single bite, Wen Hua cleaned the big white porcelain bowl spotless and sighed into the empty vessel. With nothing better to do, he carried his bowl and chopsticks over to sit by Old Huang. The girl who would suddenly laugh “hehe” and threaten customers with a hand-slicing move whenever she was displeased was now leaning back with her legs on the bench, lost in thought. Wen Hua didn’t dare sit on the same bench as her, so he asked Old Huang to scoot over a bit and sat beside Huang Longshi. Wen Hua saw the black and white stones facing off on the board, interspersed with many colorful glass pieces. He wanted to pick one up and see if it was valuable—if it was, he might as well pocket a few and pawn them off. After all, how long had it been since he’d been paid? Not to mention the red envelopes during festivals! Unfortunately, Huang Longshi slapped his hand away. Wen Hua casually placed his bowl and chopsticks in a corner of the table and chuckled, “Old Huang, what are you doing? Care to explain the significance?”

Huang Longshi, at that moment, was holding a box of glass stones in one hand and making calculations with his fingers, deeply focused and not responding to Wen Hua’s chatter.

Finding it boring, Wen Hua turned his attention to the girl who liked to laugh “hehe.” “Jia Jia, Jia, Jia, I’ll be clear with you—this big cat is just a glutton. We can’t afford to keep it!”

The pretty girl simply chuckled “hehe,” not even glancing at Wen Hua. Wen Hua, already overworked and underappreciated at the teahouse, slammed the table in anger. “Don’t think you can just ‘hehe’ at me because Old Huang is backing you up! I don’t have any alchemy to turn stones into gold, you know! The three of us—three mouths to feed—don’t eat as much as that one cat! The business is so bad, and I don’t see you lifting a finger! Take yesterday’s customer—he just said the tea wasn’t great, and you wanted to hit him with a tray! And the day before that, another customer said the tea wasn’t fragrant enough, and you wanted to twist his head off! Don’t you care about the law anymore? Am I supposed to be like Zhu Bajie looking in a mirror—neither inside nor out fitting in?!”

The girl turned to face Wen Hua and gave a short “Heh.”

Wen Hua slapped his forehead, nearly choking on his own frustration.

Old Huang gently smoothed the stones that had been disturbed by the porcelain bowl and frowned. “As long as no one starves, that’s enough. Even if you turned this teahouse into the biggest in the Northern Wilderness, would that make you accomplished?”

Wen Hua shot back, “Isn’t that considered accomplished?”

The old merchant, exuding a refined and scholarly air, glanced at him. “Then why don’t you give up swordsmanship altogether? I guarantee you’ll become the top wealthy gentleman in the Northern Wilderness. How about that?”

Wen Hua waved him off. “Forget it! If you won’t let me practice swordsmanship, you might as well kill me.”

Old Huang smiled slyly. “You call yourself ‘old’ now?”

Wen Hua quickly corrected himself. “Ah, I mean, I’m the young one. You’ve been playing chess for so long—don’t your hands ache and your shoulders get tired? Want me to give you a massage?”

The more pieces he placed, the more the table became densely covered with black and white stones, with the colorful glass stones sparsely scattered among them. The porcelain bowl now looked like an eyesore. The old man waved his hand. “Take it away.”

Wen Hua said “Alright!” and hurried off to the kitchen with the bowl. Making a single bowl of scallion noodles for himself wasn’t too bad, but the saying goes, “Solitary joy is not as good as shared joy.” He could make three bowls and bring some for that odd father-daughter pair as well. Ignoring Wen Hua, Old Huang gazed at the increasingly clear game situation. He held a relatively large glass stone and forcefully placed it into a critical area. Then he hesitated over whether to remove another glass stone.

Putting down the box of stones, he murmured to himself, “My dear daughter, this time I’ve missed out on a great spectacle. Unfortunately, the man in the capital who once had me to blame for cutting out his tongue has sent me a letter, asking to settle old accounts. On one hand, I feel remorse, and on the other, I’m curious about how things will unfold, so I agreed to his request. A Go piece must live, it must form eyes, or else the game becomes meaningless. Otherwise, look here—this place is called the Iron Gate Pass, a place with good feng shui. Dying there is better than dying on a battlefield filled with ghosts and the spirits of thousands of fallen soldiers. This large glass piece that went to Xishu—if it devours Zhao Kai and Xu Fengnian’s pieces, staying in Beiliang would be far more interesting than becoming some mere prince. Don’t glare at me like that. That kid chose to throw himself into this game. I didn’t really trip him up this time. Rest assured, that kid’s going to profit big—hereditary succession as Beiliang King, solid as a rock.”

“If Xu Fengnian dies and Chen Zhibao takes the throne as Beiliang King, he’ll live forever in Xu Xiao’s shadow. The old debts the Zhao family owes the Xu family will be repaid, bit by bit, openly or secretly, according to Chen Zhibao’s nature. The man in the capital doesn’t want to see that happen. But that fellow underestimated the next Beiliang King. Is that young Xu really more magnanimous than Chen Zhibao? Not really. But you can’t blame him. After all, on the surface, Chen Zhibao still seems far superior to Xu Fengnian. But throughout history, in games between masters, a shallow gaze leads to great losses.”

The girl shook her golden sunflower and chuckled “Hehe.”

The old man, whose life had been filled with intricate strategies and hidden machinations, often leaving others in a fog—sometimes only revealing their meaning decades later—seldom shared his thoughts with others. But with his own daughter by his side, he held nothing back and spoke freely. “This time, neither side is clean. To preserve the greater good, the loser must swallow their pride and accept the outcome. The Bottom line for this ambush is clear: the Son of Heaven of the Zhao family won’t act personally, and neither will Xu Xiao. As for the fate of their sons—alive or dead—it’s up to fate, planning, and ruthlessness. However, the Son of Heaven in the capital holds a mutual understanding advantage: he has many princes. Losing one might bring sorrow, but it won’t cripple him. Yet this Zhao emperor, who made the first move on the board, clearly didn’t anticipate how decisively Beiliang would respond. Xu Fengnian personally went to intercept and kill, and many deep-cover agents were activated one after another. Otherwise, by normal logic, as long as the Jiange Pass didn’t have He Yan’s three thousand elite cavalry, as long as the Nan Gong remnants hadn’t emerged from seclusion, and as long as Cao Changqing hadn’t fulfilled his promise to repay a favor, Xu Fengnian and Zhao Kai would still lose, while Chen Zhibao would neither win nor lose in the short term. He would collapse Beiliang, become the King of Shu, and eventually, after Xu Xiao’s death, Beiliang would fall into his hands. Compared to Xu Xiao, Chen Zhibao has both advantages and disadvantages. His advantage is his youth, and his unmatched literary and martial prowess—somewhat like me…”

“Heh.”

“All right, all right, I won’t boast anymore. Let me continue with the serious matter. Chen Zhibao’s advantage also lies in his long-term preparation. The resentment of the scholars toward him is actually directed at his adoptive father, Xu Xiao, not at this ultimate Confucian general. His disadvantage is also clear—he lacks legitimacy in becoming the Beiliang King. After being enfeoffed as the King of Xishu, the military support he had built up within the Beiliang army will wane as Xu Xiao passes away. Therefore, if he truly wishes to ascend the throne, he only has about ten years—any longer, and whether it’s fate or public sentiment, he won’t be able to gather it all. Human hearts are fickle, and everyone is the same. How many reputations can last for two or three generations? Only Xu Xiao, the anomaly within the Liyang military, managed that. Chen Zhibao still lacks the seasoning.”

“I’ve always said those old bookworms at the Astronomical Bureau are half-baked scholars who only understand rigid symbols and numbers but fail to grasp the fluidity of heavenly fate. They’ve been fooled by me for years and still haven’t learned. That Zhao Kai kid actually believes he possesses unmatched heavenly fortune? That Western nun isn’t much smarter either. Zhao Kai’s fortune was built upon the thirty years of dragon-following by Han Diaosi and the old bald monk Yang Taishui. Add to her own cultivation, her presence further accumulates his fortune. No wonder he looks like a promising candidate for the throne. How many among the three teachings who personally enter the game end up well? The monk Longshu and old monk Yang Taishui both died. The Celestial Masters of Longhu Mountain, the older generation, also met unfortunate ends. In the end, they all thought they were above worldly affairs, but in reality, they were pitiful souls who couldn’t attain freedom or Roaming Free.”

“During the Spring and Autumn Period, I fooled so many with omens and anomalies, yet these clever people still failed to see through it. It is evident, the difference between wisdom and cleverness, though just one character, is as vast as heaven and earth.”

“The Northern Wilderness’ Taiping Decree, Lin Lao, refuses to admit old age and insists on playing a game with me. Does he not know that the entire Xiangqi situation dividing the world into two was my creation? The world should now be left to the young. Those who squat over a toilet without defecating, letting their old feces harden, how can they fertilize the fields?”

At this, the girl’s lips curled into a smile, and she chuckled “Hehe.”

Wen Hua, who had just brought over three bowls of scallion noodles, angrily said, “Old Huang, can’t you talk about something else while we’re eating?!”

Seeing that the teahouse owner wasn’t reacting, he glared and said, “Hurry up and clear the table!”

The old man smiled slightly and with one sweep of his sleeve, cleared all the stones from the table. Wen Hua placed the three sets of bowls and chopsticks down and kept grumbling, “Playing chess, playing chess—that’s all you ever do. What’s so great about playing chess? Once I become a sword immortal, whoever dares to show off in front of me will get a taste of my sword!”

The old man picked up his chopsticks and smiled, asking, “Oh? Then if I teach you swordsmanship and make you suffer so much, will you be the first to strike me down?”

Wen Hua laughed and said, “No way, no way. I, Wen Hua, am no ungrateful person. I’m handsome, have a good temper, and a noble heart. These virtues aside, what truly matters is loyalty!”

The old man smiled and shook his head slightly, somewhat helplessly. He picked up a pair of noodles with his chopsticks, and before eating, he said, “You should go to the Liyang capital.”

Wen Hua was taken aback and whispered, “So directly to the capital to make a name for myself? Don’t I need to warm up in smaller places first?”

The old man took a mouthful of noodles, blew on them to cool them for his daughter, fearing she might burn her mouth, and the “hehe” girl smiled brightly, plucking a small petal from her sunflower and placing it on the edge of the old man’s bowl.

It looked cheerful.

The old man was in high spirits and told Wen Hua, “Don’t you want to make a splash? Besides, you’ll get to see the White Jade Lion, the famous courtesan you fell in love with at first sight.”

Wen Hua slurped his noodles and laughed, “So what if she’s a courtesan? I still like her. I’m definitely going to the capital this time!”

The old man smiled faintly.

After finishing the noodles, the old man took out some silver coins and instructed Wen Hua, who had just finished tidying up the bowls and chopsticks, “Go, buy a pot of good wine.”

Wen Hua rolled his eyes. “A tea seller buying wine to drink—only you, Old Huang, would do such a thing!”

Not long after, Wen Hua returned with a pot of wine. The old man said indifferently, “The remaining coins, keep them for yourself.”

Wen Hua chuckled and, muttering that he needed to go out for a bit, went back to his small room and took out a bag of silver coins he had hidden, stuffed them all into his pocket, and hurried out of the teahouse.

He had long had his eye on a set of erotic pictures. Today, he finally had enough money and was off to buy them. Back then, he and Xu Xiao both shared this hobby, but during their wandering days, they were so poor they barely had food from one day to the next. They couldn’t afford such luxuries then. Now that he had a little money, he wanted to share it with his brother. Wen Hua thought that next time they met, he would give the pictures as a gift. A small gift, but a meaningful one.

If that kid dares to look down on it, I’ll beat him with a wooden sword!

The “hehe” girl didn’t drink and simply watched the old man drink alone.

The old man softly chuckled, “Thirteen Masters of the Spring and Autumn Period—I alone hold three. The other ten, except for Chen Zhibao who went to Shu and Song Guanhai, who has dominated the Liyang literary world in recent years, have all passed away. Oh, the three Song brothers are also about to be destroyed by Lu Xu.”

The old man didn’t seem to have a strong tolerance for alcohol. After drinking most of the pot, he fell into a drowsy sleep.

The girl fetched a thick coat and quietly draped it over him. Then she sat beside him, lost in thought once more.

The old man mumbled in his drunken state, “Zhuangzi dreamed of a butterfly, or was it the butterfly that dreamed of Zhuangzi? I dream of Zhuangzi, I dream of the butterfly…”