The capital had quietly gained a new arrival. Logically speaking, even if a thousand people appeared out of nowhere in this, the empire’s most prestigious city, it would be no more noticeable than a stone dropped into water. Yet this particular guest, burdened with past crimes, was someone no one could afford to underestimate.
Prince Jing’an, Zhao Xun, the youngest F Surname prince of the Liyang Dynasty’s royal family.
From the moment the imperial decree summoning Zhao Xun was issued to the time he arrived in the capital, the Ministry of Rites should have been involved throughout. Instead, everything was handled directly by the Court of Imperial Clan. In a city where no secret remains hidden, rumors had already begun spreading rapidly among the upper echelons of the bureaucracy. Yet practically no one could determine whether Zhao Xun’s journey to Tai’an City would bring fortune or calamity.
Outside the Yaoyou Pass, another royal prince, Prince Huainan Zhao Ying, had perished after three consecutive victories. Calling his death regrettable seems inappropriate, yet calling it heroic would also be incorrect. He was indeed brave, but his strategy was reckless—abandoning three strongholds to fight cavalry battles on open plains. Where was the wisdom in that? As for Zhao Xun himself, public opinion leaned more toward praise than criticism. After all, he had set out to rescue Prince Huainan and nearly lost his life to Western Chu raiding parties. Despite the generational gap between them, the two princes had little connection, which only further highlighted Zhao Xun’s unwavering loyalty to the court—utterly unlike his father, the late Prince Jing’an, Zhao Heng. Yet now, with the new emperor recently ascended to the throne, his thoughts remained inscrutable.
Zhao Xun was temporarily staying in a mansion on the Street of Princes. This estate bore no relation to his lineage, having once belonged to a powerful minister of the Liyang Dynasty over a century ago. The mansion was excessively grand, far beyond what was permitted by protocol. Its grounds were vast, with more than four hundred rooms, and even its pavilions and halls stood several zhang higher than the street outside. About forty years ago, it had been granted to King Zhongyi by the emperor, but the hereditary title lasted only one generation before being revoked for crimes. In the past forty years, it had changed hands many times, with none of its occupants staying long. The most famous among them was naturally Sun Xiji, the former Grand Chancellor of Western Chu.
Though Zhao Xun was officially in the capital to answer for his crimes, the emperor’s decree had been harshly worded. If not for everything unfolding exactly as the blind strategist Lu Xv had predicted, Zhao Xun might have been terrified out of his wits. At the time, Lu Xv had offered a simple piece of advice: “Once you go, accept it calmly.”
Zhao Xun had indeed accepted his fate. In recent days, he often wandered leisurely within the mansion, admiring its open corridors, towering ancient trees, and the water winding around hills. At this moment, he stood in a pavilion at the center of a lake, smiling faintly. When he first arrived in the capital, the Right Clan Minister of the Court of Imperial Clan had escorted him here with a face full of disdain, treating him like a stray dog on the roadside. But yesterday, upon hearing some news, the same old man had rushed over to mend relations, his wrinkled face beaming. Zhao Xun, of course, did not openly hold a grudge. He even presented the Right Clan Minister with a mercury-infused jade ring that had been prepared in advance. The old man’s eyes lit up at the sight of it, clearly indicating that Master Lu’s carefully chosen small gifts had struck the right chord. In fact, besides the jade ring, Lu Xv had also instructed him to carry with him a black ink turtle-shell inkstone. Should the Left Clan Minister appear to handle the reception, that would be the appropriate gift to offer.
Zhao Xun sighed sincerely, “Lu Xv, truly a master of foresight. When I was still the Crown Prince, I always thought that strategists like Li Yishan and Nalan Youci were merely products of their times—men who would fade into obscurity in times of peace. But after meeting you, I realized that men like you, whether in chaos or tranquility, will always find a place for yourselves.”
Zhao Xun had previously believed that sacrificing six thousand cavalry to execute a “retreat to advance” strategy was too great a cost. But now, standing in this mansion in Tai’an City, he began to understand that Master Lu had been right all along.
Suddenly, Zhao Xun noticed two figures appearing on the lakeside path. They walked toward the pavilion without an escort. Zhao Xun furrowed his brow instinctively, a sense of caution rising within him.
As the two approached, Zhao Xun was momentarily stunned. Recognizing one of them, he asked in puzzlement, “Brother Song?”
Song Kefeng, the rising star of the Song family.
During his previous visit to the capital, Zhao Xun had exchanged some polite but guarded words with Song Kefeng.
Song Kefeng bowed deeply, “This humble servant greets Prince Jing’an.”
Zhao Xun quickly smiled, “No need for such formalities, Brother Song.”
Song Kefeng’s demeanor was composed, exuding a natural calmness. Despite his family’s decline and his own fall from grace, he showed no sign of despair. The presence of the elderly Confucian scholar beside him only deepened Zhao Xun’s wariness.
Song Kefeng spoke softly, “This is Master Yuan. The likes of Sun Xiji of Western Chu were merely guests of Master Yuan.”
Zhao Xun was no fool. He immediately understood.
The surname Yuan. The true master of this estate.
The legendary strategist of Liyang, the “Half-Inch Tongue,” Yuan Benxi!
Zhao Xun bowed deeply, “This junior, Zhao Xun, greets Master Yuan!”
Yuan Benxi did not speak, merely waving his hand slightly.
Song Kefeng smiled, “This humble servant has come to inform the Prince that you will soon be allowed to leave the capital and return to Qingzhou.”
Before Zhao Xun could fully grasp the meaning of “soon,” the prophecy was swiftly fulfilled.
A senior eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, dressed in bright red Python Robe, approached them carrying an imperial edict. His steps were swift yet composed.
Upon reaching Yuan Benxi, the old eunuch first gave a slight nod of respect before delivering the edict to Prince Jing’an, Zhao Xun.
Zhao Xun naturally knelt to receive it, and Song Kefeng also stepped back and knelt to listen respectfully.
Only Yuan Benxi remained facing the lake, seemingly indifferent.
The eunuch, one of the top three most powerful eunuchs in the empire, showed no sign of discomfort at this.
After receiving the edict, Zhao Xun had to leave the capital immediately. Without Lu Xv’s clever plans, he truly did not know how to interact with the imperial strategist, fearing he might blunder. Seizing the moment, he politely took his leave and departed the pavilion.
Once Zhao Xun and the eunuch had gone, Yuan Benxi asked, “Can you guess what question the Director of Ceremonial will be asked upon returning to the palace?”
Song Kefeng shook his head.
Yuan Benxi smiled, “The Emperor will not care how Prince Jing’an reacted, but will ask whether Yuan Benxi showed respect upon seeing the imperial edict.”
Song Kefeng could only smile bitterly.
Yuan Benxi continued calmly, “Earlier, I advised the late Emperor that if Prince Zhao Xun had hidden his strength during the Jingnan Campaign, he should be summoned to the capital, stripped of his title, and reduced to commoner status. If he had fought his hardest and still failed, he should retain his princely rank but be required to reside in Tai’an for a year or two. The late Emperor took this matter seriously. But the current Emperor is not indifferent—he simply has different priorities. To him, a prince with little prestige, Zhao Xun’s presence or absence means little. He seeks to emulate his father’s tactics against Chancellor Zhang Julu, making cautious, incremental moves, testing the waters step by step, gradually eroding power.”
Song Kefeng murmured, “This seems a bit too hasty.”
Yuan Benxi made no comment, then continued with some effort, “Zhao Xun is clever, though not by his own merit. In fact, he is far inferior to his father, Zhao Heng. But he knows how to follow the advice of those behind him. I wanted him to remain in Tai’an, watching helplessly as the world changed, because Xiangfan, the waist of the empire, is too important to allow any misstep. That blind yet sharp-minded young man is already a major variable. I had planned to completely disrupt Qingzhou’s power structure, sending either Xu Gong or Tang Tieshuang to govern Xiangfan. But now, perhaps Qingzhou will one day become a battleground contested by Liyang, Beiman, Beiliang, Xichu, Xishu, and Nanjiang.”
Song Kefeng hesitated, as if wanting to say something more.
“A strategist, by definition, is a scholar who offers plans. His role is fixed as a ‘scholar,’ and the key lies in how he advises those he serves. But before that, he must first choose the right master.”
Yuan Benxi narrowed his eyes, his voice low, “Li Yishan chose Xu Xiao—right choice. Zhao Changling was wrong. I chose the late Emperor—right choice. Xu Xie Xie chose Xu Xiao—wrong. Nalan Youci chose Prince Yan, Zhao Bing—right choice. Lu Xv chose Zhao Heng and Zhao Xun—wrong.”
Song Kefeng asked curiously, “Then what about Song Dongming, Xu Beizhi, and Chen Xiliang choosing Xu Fengnian? Right or wrong?”
Yuan Benxi smiled, “I don’t know.”
Song Kefeng asked earnestly, “Even Master Yuan has things he cannot be certain of?”
Yuan Benxi countered, “Why shouldn’t there be?”
Song Kefeng smiled, “There should be.”
Yuan Benxi smiled faintly, then continued, “I once asked two monks the same question: Is it justified to kill a thousand to save ten thousand? When I asked if killing ten to save ten thousand was acceptable, Yang Taishui nodded. But when I asked if killing one to save ten thousand was acceptable, Li Dangxin still refused to agree.”
After a long silence, Yuan Benxi placed his hand on the pavilion pillar and said, “I will soon send you with two edicts to Jizhou. One is for you to establish yourself in southern Ji, the other is for Yuan Tingshan, that mad dog, telling him to boldly open the northern gates of Ji.”
Song Kefeng was first puzzled, but soon his face turned pale.
Yuan Benxi said calmly, “Just let Beiliang become even more chaotic. Those who seek to live will live, those who are willing to die will die. All will find their place. Is Beiliang’s cavalry the strongest in the land? Then let the entire Central Plains watch and see.”
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