After an afternoon of fighting, the people of Chang'an looked at Xu Zhen with newfound admiration. This new strategist was finally proving not to be a fool!
As night fell, the two armies sounded the gongs to cease fighting.
Xu Zhen's group set up scarecrows and lit torches along the roadside, maintaining the illusion of a large force. Li Sanlang angrily cracked his whip, throwing his sword to the ground. His deputy and strategist tried to console him, calling the strategist deceitful.
Li Sanlang, holding his head, said, "No, no, that person is—unbeatable, but why, why teach us to govern the world and yet sow chaos?"
No one could answer him.
The night sky was a jumble of stars.
Li Sanlang stared at the military map on the table, tears welling in his eyes. He clenched his fists, thinking: Teacher, why are you using your talents to harm the world!
In the silent military tent, sentries stood vigilantly with drawn swords surrounding it.
Several dozen miles away in Chang'an, the scene was starkly different from the chaos of the battlefield. The palace was filled with a decadent atmosphere of music and dance. The sound of zithers and flutes never ceased. The favored concubine lounged on a golden throne, sleeves drawn around her, intently examining a bronze bracelet in her hand.
Golden stone lamps cast serpentine shadows across the hall. Dancers continued their performances without pause, while four or five strategists favored by the concubine sat on either side of a table, drinking and watching the show, their faces gleaming with amusement.
Among the strategists, each harbored their own thoughts. Some were secretly disloyal, while others genuinely wished to aid the concubine in unifying the realm. Some were pleased with her indulgence, while others worried.
A strategist from afar, slightly intoxicated, carefully approached the concubine with a suggestion, "Your Majesty, with the world in turmoil, Chang'an should choose a single school of thought to govern."
The sound of a zither string being plucked echoed softly.
The concubine returned to her senses, put away the bracelet, and glanced at the strategist, asking, "What do you propose?"
With a confident smile, the strategist said, "I believe Legalism is suitable."
Immediately, a bronze wine cup toppled over, clattering to the floor. Someone rushed up, exclaiming, "No! That's not acceptable!"
The strategist supporting Legalism asked why not, while the other vehemently opposed it. Finally, the concubine, weary of the argument, waved them both away, and the dancers also withdrew.
The vast hall was left with a reflective, crystalline floor.
This throne, this position, was coveted and fiercely protected by many. Now seated upon it, the concubine felt both immense joy and a sense of meaninglessness.
She retrieved the bronze bracelet from her lap, examining it closely.
Her contemplation was interrupted by an unexpected visitor.
A tall, young woman, somehow managing to enter unnoticed, stood at the doorway. Dressed in a white robe with a tied waist accentuating her slim figure, she stood silhouetted against the moonlight, appearing delicate yet holding a blue short sword that exuded an unusual aura of menace.
The concubine frowned, initially mistaking her for a disobedient guard, but quickly realized this was someone familiar.
When familiar faces meet, they are welcomed with open arms.
Chapter 82: Eighty-Two Treasures
Start from the beginning
