Chapter 112: Sima’s Strategy

“Young master, come eat.” Tao’er helped Jiang Wen remove his official robes and served the cooked porridge. Jiang Wen looked at the five-flavored jerky and smiled faintly. “Come to think of it, you’re quite skilled at making this. I remember when you made it before, Ziming would often come to the residence to scrounge meals.”

“Young master, Second Uncle said after you finish eating, he wants you to come over and talk with him.”

“Mm.”

Jiang Wen arrived outside Jiang Hao’s room and saw a middle-aged man carefully trimming a bonsai inside.

“You’re here, boy.” Jiang Hao looked at Jiang Wen. The once robust and sturdy man of the fields now appeared extremely frail, evoking sympathy.

“Second Uncle.” After bowing, Jiang Wen smiled. “You don’t have to be so formal; that’s just for outsiders. Come, sit down.”

Jiang Wen knelt down as Jiang Hao pushed the bonsai aside. “Since you left, we’ve seldom met or even spoken. If your parents were still alive to see your achievements now, I’m sure they’d be overjoyed.”

“Have you gone to pay respects?”

“I’ve already been. Tao’er and Diao Chan came with me.” Jiang Wen replied.

“That little foreigner must be secretly pleased. I’ve been a lifelong bachelor, yet my son found two such beautiful ladies.”

“Hahaha,” Jiang Hao laughed, and Jiang Wen joined in. “Indeed, you’ve truly made something of yourself now…”

Jiang Hao examined the young man. Though youthful in appearance, his demeanor held authority and unwavering confidence—a natural presence.

“What official position do you hold now?”

“Imperial Censor Middle Assistant.”

Jiang Hao furrowed his brow slightly. Unlike Jiang Wen’s parents, who were well-educated, he was merely a rogue who liked to play around and never studied, so he didn’t know the rank’s significance.

He wanted to say something but hesitated, knowing how far behind he was compared to his nephew.

“Second Uncle, feel free to speak openly. If you hadn’t saved me from the Yellow Turbans back then, I’d probably be nothing but a pile of bones by the roadside, picked clean by wild dogs.” Jiang Wen said.

“Chang Su, only your father’s line in the Jiang family is literate; the rest are rough folks,” Jiang Hao said. “When you sent for me from Fuchun, I heard you had become an official. I was so happy I couldn’t sleep all night…”

Jiang Wen’s expression darkened slightly. “Second Uncle, I know what you want to say.”

“I’ve already heard. This is a dangerous path you’re on. Can you stop? You’re the only heir to the Jiang family!”

“Second Uncle, I respect you as my father, but this is something I must do. If you truly care for me, I hope you won’t try to dissuade me.” Jiang Wen said firmly. “This path is perilous; I don’t want anyone holding me back—especially not you.”

“Trying to hold you back is for your own good. You’re not the only one who can do this. Why take the risk yourself?” Jiang Hao’s lips trembled. “My life doesn’t matter; you’re the only one I care about. You’re different—you have a wife and will have children.”

“Second Uncle, I understand, but only I can do this. It’s a debt I owe in my heart.”

“What kind of debt is worth risking your life? You weren’t like this as a child. You always put your life first. I remember once you stole a chicken from someone’s yard. If caught, you’d have been beaten to cripple you.”

“And you hid in the mountains, eating wild fruit every day, having me sneak you food. When the danger passed, you came back. Though your father found out, your backside was swollen…”

Jiang Wen smiled. “Childhood is incomparable to now, Second Uncle. I’ve grown up and hold official rank. In my position, I fulfill my duties. Don’t you often complain that officials are corrupt and wish for peace?”

“But isn’t it peaceful now?” Jiang Hao asked. “Our family lives quietly and happily.”

“But others’ families don’t.”

“What do they have to do with us?” Jiang Hao said. “We’re not saviors, just ordinary people. Our capability is limited. We should live well ourselves.”

Jiang Wen shook his head. “Second Uncle, rest well. I have some matters to attend to.”

Jiang Wen returned to his study. Tao’er brought a bowl of sour plum soup. “Young master, what did Second Uncle say to you?”

“Nothing much. Help me grind the ink.”

On the street, carriages and palanquins passed by. Cheng Pu, clad in a cloak and holding a spear, sat imposing on his warhorse. Inside the imperial carriage, Liu Xie’s face was ashen.

Only eunuchs and some maidservants accompanied him. Former loyal ministers wept silently among the crowd, now knowing the Han dynasty’s fate was sealed.

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty…”

“Father must not go!” Yang Xiu blocked Grand Marshal Yang. “The Chancellor no longer pursues the matter of the imperial edict. If you go now, it will only give him excuse. The Chancellor arranged the emperor’s relocation to remove him from power. Now, the Chancellor alone controls the realm!”

“Alas, my Yang family has served the Han for generations—how did we fall to such a state?”

“Father, you can’t go. Our Sima family narrowly escaped disaster; we must not risk it again.”

“I understand, Zhongda. I just want to see, to look closely.” Sima Fang’s eyes held weariness and sorrow.

Cheng Pu observed these Han officials with calm resolve. Soldiers around gradually withdrew their weapons, ready to execute anyone who dared approach.

Though sorrowful, after enduring imprisonment, these officials exercised caution and none dared advance.

“General Cheng Pu, how long will you be away this time? Let me see you off!” Sun Quan smiled.

“I prefer you to the Chancellor among your brothers, but sadly you’re not the heir,” Cheng Pu said. “By the way, I’m about to leave Xiangyang. Please tell the other generals to keep a close eye on Jiang Wen. Even if I’m absent, don’t let him cause trouble!”

Sun Quan’s body trembled faintly, his expression unreadable. “Of course. I will faithfully deliver your message, General. Take care!”

Cheng Pu nodded. “Set off!”

At Jiang Wen’s residence, Zhou Yu bowed to Tao’er and then entered Jiang Wen’s study, watching him write about the Nine-Rank System reforms.

“Brother Bofu’s move to relocate the emperor has eased the pressure on you considerably.”

“Cai Mao told me he’s chosen neutrality, not supporting either side.” Jiang Wen placed the finished bamboo slips aside.

“Today Lu Min informed me that his father has begun implementing the reforms you proposed at the Taixue Academy in Lujiang. Now, we wait.” Zhou Yu sat down. Tao’er brought in the sour plum soup, bowed, and took a sip. “This tastes great. Someday, I’ll invite Leyao and the lady to learn. Would the lady be willing?”

“Of course. I won’t disturb you and Lord Zhou now.” Tao’er smiled and withdrew.

Zhou Yu took a sip. “Ziming also suggested you move to his residence. Xiangyang’s too dangerous now.”

“No need. Being with him would mean endless flirtatious talk, disturbing my peace and delaying the reforms.”

“Hahaha,” Zhou Yu placed his bowl aside. “Now that you’ve embarked on this path, as your friend, I’ll stand by you. Though it’s perilous, I believe the more who walk it, the better the road becomes.”

“Talking ill of me from afar—think I’m hard of hearing? Tao’er, another bowl of sour plum soup!”

“Serve yourself. There’s a whole pot in the kitchen!”

“Hey!” Lü Meng entered the study, saw Zhou Yu’s bowl, and drank it down in one gulp. Before Zhou Yu could speak, Lü Meng said, “It’s fine; I don’t mind. We’re close, after all.”

“You weren’t coming?” Zhou Yu glanced at the bowl, now just ice cubes.

“My kid at home was fussing too much, so I went for a walk. It’s noon now, and I’m ready for lunch.”

At Sun Quan’s mansion, the old generals wore somber expressions.

“Is it true, Zhongmou, that the Chancellor sent Cheng Pu away from Xiangyang to ease Jiang Wen’s burden?”

Sun Quan smiled. “Gentlemen, this wasn’t my idea but that of a subordinate, though his rank is low and he waits outside.”

Quan Zong said, “Bring him in. I want to hear what he has to say!”

Sun Quan nodded. “Please, Sima Yi!”

A kindly-faced man entered.

“I, Sima Yi, pay respects to the generals!”

“Never seen this man before. Can we trust what he says?”

“Forget that. Speak your mind!”

Sima Yi bowed. “Then I shall obey respectfully.”

“I have heard of the matter at court. The Imperial Censor Middle Assistant submitted a memorial. Though my rank is low, I haven’t read it, but I know some.”

“Cut the beating around the bush!”

“Very well. I ask the generals: why does the Chancellor disdain the Imperial Censor Middle Assistant’s memorial? The Chancellor manages all state affairs meticulously, yet ignores this reform proposal that could alter the nation’s face, much like Shang Yang’s reforms!”

Wu Jing interrupted, “There’s a reason. I won’t say.”

“Is it because the Censor advised the Chancellor against attending a funeral?”

“How do you know that?”

Sun Quan spoke, “Uncles, I told him. Rest assured, Zhongda and I are friends and won’t reveal this.”

“Thank you for your trust,” Sima Yi bowed. “In your eyes, there’s a great rift between the Chancellor and the Censor, so the Chancellor ignores his advice.”

“But in truth, the Chancellor sacrifices even funerals for the country; he is a true hero. The Censor’s reforms could transform the realm.”

The old generals listened intently, some raising their cups, others thoughtful—these words made sense and revealed things they hadn’t considered.

Sima Yi continued, “Such reforms, good or bad, the Chancellor would review. Why then does he not look at them? In my view, it’s because he and the Censor play roles—one acts stern, the other conciliatory.”

“The Censor proposes reforms openly, but the Chancellor feigns ignorance, allowing the reforms to exist quietly.”

“You generals focus on whether the reforms will be implemented; the scholars care only that they exist.”

“One more point: the Chancellor once clashed with you over the military colonization policy. Though long past, he remembers. He doesn’t press old disputes out of respect for your military power.”

“A nation needs military might backed by aristocracy. Without support from the gentry, it would perish within months. You generals excel at war but not governance. The Chancellor wants Jiang Wen to quietly unite the gentry to counterbalance you.”

Sima Yi bowed again. “That is all I have to say.”

“So the public disputes aren’t true disdain but a show for us?”

“We work hard for the Chancellor, only to gain some land, yet he is petty.” Wu Jing said angrily. “If I’d known, I’d have preferred Zhongmou as heir.”

“Hey, don’t say that!” other generals warned. “If the wrong ears hear, it’s treason!”

Wu Jing snorted, drank his wine. Sun Quan’s expression remained calm but he secretly chuckled. Luckily, the assassin sent to Fuchun was incompetent. Had Jiang Wen been killed, this gift might never have arrived.

“What now? Wait for Jiang Wen to rally the gentry and challenge us?”

The generals looked at Sima Yi. “Hey, Sima, what do you suggest?”

“Generals, since you ask: first, find and pressure the gentry supporting the Censor to make them retreat. Second, most civil officials adhere to tradition; they’ll resist reforms. Unite them in court to obstruct Jiang Wen, making his reforms fail and pushing him out of power.”

“Then you can send someone to assassinate the Censor. It’s possible now but not recommended—Xiangyang is well-guarded, and many military officers respect him.”

ps: Please cast your votes. Thanks to readers who pointed out the third-person narration issue—I will revise it promptly.