Chapter 487: I Offered My Heart to the Bright Moon

In the pitch-black night, one could not see one's own fingers before one's face.

It was already past midnight; within Chang'an's Yongjia Ward, all was silent, and only in one courtyard near Xingqing Palace did torches still burn.

Though Hebei was now in rebellion, its impact on Chang'an was minimal. Ordinary folk still lived their poor but stable lives, and public order in Chang'an remained passable—people did not go around looting homes at every turn.

Clang! Clang!

Clang! Clang!

Outside the gate of this courtyard, shadowy figures tossed jar after jar of fierce-fire oil—the kind commonly used in the military—over the wall and into the compound.

Those fragile clay jars shattered on the ground, and fierce-fire oil spilled everywhere. A pungent stench instantly filled the air and spread in all directions.

"Fire!"

"Fire!"

The shadows outside the gate shouted "fire" while skillfully prying open the courtyard gate, then rushed in frantically, setting fires as they searched everywhere for something.

Thwip!

That was the sound of an arrow piercing flesh!

One of the black-clad men setting fires in the courtyard took an arrow to the chest and fell. Before he could even stagger to his feet, someone pinned his head to the ground underfoot!

"Who sent you?"

The armored general standing on him asked in a low voice.

"Don't know, just taking money to do a job..."

The black-clad man struggled to say more, but someone drove a horizontal blade straight into his neck, and blood gushed out!

"Doesn't matter now. Go in peace."

This armored general was none other than Li Jiaqing, a subordinate officer under Fang Youde. He sighed softly and wiped the blood from his horizontal blade on the black-clad man's body.

Boring people always liked to do boring things—why bother?

In his heart, he silently mocked certain people for overestimating themselves, daring to challenge the authority of soldiers.

Moments later, Li Jiaqing's elite troops had slain every black-clad intruder who had rushed into the courtyard, leaving no one alive. The fire that had just ignited was quickly extinguished with sand and dirt, likewise without causing much commotion.

This was Fang Youde's order: if nothing happened, return to camp after dawn. If something did happen, kill all attackers and return immediately—do not create complications, leave no survivors.

The courtyard in Yongjia Ward that had been briefly bustling quickly fell silent again, as though nothing had ever happened.

"Let's go. Back to the camp outside Jinguang Gate."

After giving this instruction, Li Jiaqing led more than twenty fierce and battle-hardened personal soldiers of the Crane Control Army out in single file, departing the Fang family residence in Yongjia Ward.

As this group walked along Chunming Gate Avenue, the Gold Guard soldiers on night patrol kept their distance, watching them leave through Jinguang Gate without daring to obstruct them at all.

The Crane Control Army's camp was located at Sanqiao Town, not far northwest of Chang'an—the route one had to pass through going from Chang'an to Xianyang.

"Back quite early. I thought you'd eat some noodle soup at the West Market before returning."

Seeing Li Jiaqing return ahead of schedule, Fang Youde spoke as though relieved—or rather, as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He seemed to be in good spirits, actually having the leisure to tease Li Jiaqing.

"Commander, someone set fire to the residence in Yongjia Ward. They were hired hands. This subordinate has dealt with all of them."

Li Jiaqing reported with a grave expression.

For certain people in Chang'an, the Crane Control Army was indispensable, but Fang Youde was not necessarily so.

These people often maintained an inexplicable confidence, believing that if soldiers could command troops in battle, so could they.

"Mere petty scoundrels—not worth mentioning."

Fang Youde let out a long sigh. He had in fact already had a premonition that certain things were bound to happen; otherwise, he would not have arranged for Li Jiaqing to lie in wait there. But anticipating something was one matter; learning that the anticipated trouble had actually occurred was quite another.

"Commander, what should we do now?"

Li Jiaqing asked with deep concern. In any case, they could no longer stay in Chang'an.

"Depart immediately for Qizhou and encamp at Fufeng County.

We shall encamp in Qizhou and Longzhou.

To the west, we can go to Liangzhou, far from the emperor's reach; to the east, we can still return to Chang'an when the time is right.

Since certain people in Chang'an do not welcome us, we shall stay quietly in Qizhou and let them play among themselves."

Fang Youde said with a look of disdain.

The court's policy of "delegating military and fiscal authority" was no different from drinking poison to quench one's thirst. In the short term, it appeared to stabilize the Tang situation, but in reality, it set in motion a path of fostering venomous creatures in a jar.

Those prefects who controlled the military power and revenue of their prefectures and counties would prey on one another—big fish eating small fish—forming alliances and counter-alliances. Within ten years, a situation of regional warlord fragmentation would take shape, with each military governor controlling several prefectures.

Then these military governors would treat the Tang court the way the vassal lords treated the Zhou Son of Heaven—obedient ones would offer up thirty percent of their tax revenue, while disobedient ones would demand rewards and military funding from the court.

Next, the court would use military governors against military governors, establishing new ones to counter the old.

Just as in years past.

Such a court was not worth Fang Youde's loyalty, and what he wanted was certainly not a Great Tang like this.

If Li Chang and his central court were to govern with this kind of approach, Fang Youde felt he might as well become a powerful warlord himself, enjoy life for a few decades, then go out with a self-destructive bang.

Carefree, unfettered, and comfortable.

But what would be the point of that?

So he and the majority of people in the current central court in Chang'an could only be said to follow different paths, making cooperation impossible.

"Commander, if we go to encamp in Qizhou or Longzhou, I fear the tax revenue there will be hard-pressed to support an army."

Li Jiaqing was a man of genuine talent, not a brute who only knew how to fight on the battlefield. He understood the conditions of the people across Guanzhong.

Qizhou and Longzhou were what would become Fengxiang Prefecture in the mid-to-late Tang.

The terrain there was strategically perilous and suitable for grazing, but the population was sparse and tax revenue insufficient.

It could not stand alone; it needed to depend on Chang'an, sustained by Chang'an's tax revenue.

"What you say is not without reason.

How about this — it's still early in the day. Take men to the Grand Treasury, located within the Imperial City.

Take whatever you can find, as much as you can carry.

We won't be staying in Qizhou for long. This wealth will be enough for a year's expenses.

This current Chang'an court may not even last a year!"

Fang Youde said this casually, not feeling in the least that he was doing anything treasonous.

Since our paths differ and we cannot work together, then we are no longer fellow travelers — we are enemies.

The wealth in the Grand Treasury was all accumulated by Brother Ji over these past decades. Those vermin can use it, but I, Fang, cannot?

At this moment, Fang Youde's thoughts were clear and unobstructed; he dared to think and dared to act.

"Commander, we can really just take whatever we want? That's the imperial palace inner treasury!"

Li Jiaqing rubbed his hands together and asked with some uncertainty. He was both excited and worried — he feared that afterward, Fang Youde would dispose of him once he'd served his purpose.

"Since the court can no longer tolerate me, rather than let this wealth fall into those people's hands, it's better to have it in our control. Go — whatever happens, I, your commander, will bear the responsibility!"

Fang Youde patted Li Jiaqing on the shoulder and said.

"Orders received! This subordinate will handle it at once — it will be done before dawn!"

Li Jiaqing was overjoyed and was about to leave, but Fang Youde called him back.

"Old rules — rewards and promotions come after we reach Qizhou. Anyone who dares to pocket anything privately loses a hand."

Fang Youde gave him this instruction.

"Orders received! Rest assured, Commander — the brothers all know the rules!"

Li Jiaqing pledged with utmost certainty.

Only after he had walked far away did Fang Youde step out of the commander's tent.

The pitch-black night sky had not a sliver of light; dark clouds seemed to blanket overhead.

Not a thread of starlight, not a thread of moonlight — such a dark night made Fang Youde's heart feel oppressed, nearly suffocating. Only the torches within the camp could give one a sense of security.

"Regional commanders carving up territory, borderlands lost, the Tibetans rising. Next comes the abolition of the Zu-Yong-Diao tax system, and the split of revenue between the central government and the regional commands under the Two-Tax Law. Then there will be eunuchs running the government, factional strife among literati, and emperors who are each more useless than the last — never again to see a ruler of revival.

An Lushan is gone, Yang Yuhuan and Yang Guozhong are gone — so why do these things keep appearing one after another?

'A old steed in the stable still aspires to gallop a thousand li' — when will the High Tang reappear in this world?"

Fang Youde murmured as if asking a question, not knowing whether he was questioning heaven or searching his own conscience.

The ministers deliberating in the Purple Radiance Hall tonight did not seem to be the "villains" from his memory — some were even renowned ministers of the mid-Tang, such as Yan Zhenqing.

Why would they propose such a rotten idea? Why would they adopt such a plainly foolish approach as "delegating military and financial authority"?

Fang Youde did not know the answer, but he could see that those events from his previous life that had pained him were happening one after another.

Those that had not yet occurred would also reappear, judging by the current state of the realm.

It was merely a matter of swapping out the people involved and the people giving the orders. The things that should have been avoided had not diminished by a single one.

"Is the High Tang truly beyond all remedy?"

Fang Youde gazed up at the sky and let out a long sigh. No one could answer this question for him.

……

Fang Chongyong's original plan was to set out immediately after dawn for Puzhou, Huazhou, and other places, scouting the terrain along the south bank of the Yellow River, verifying maps, and conducting detailed surveys of certain key areas.

These areas selected for detailed survey were very likely to become the battlefields of future encounters, or sites for ambushes.

But before he could even set out, an uninvited guest came knocking.

Inside the study of the Xuanwu Army Jiedushi's office, Fang Chongyong sized up the middle-aged man before him — a thin, sharp-featured face with a small mustache. He looked to be about forty years old and wore a crimson official robe.

The man introduced himself as the Judge of the Fanyang Jiedushi, a native of Youzhou, named Zhang Xiu!

"Huangfu Weiming's call to arms against the rebels has been issued, and I had the honor of being named among its ranks — the very bandits that you people would love to grind to dust.

I wonder what the Judge has come to say to me, this Jiedushi?"

Fang Chongyong asked with a smile, looking at Zhang Xiu with an amused expression.

"Tender love like water, a beautiful rendezvous like a dream" — last night he and Jiang Wuyan had frolicked in bed so happily they forgot all else. When she got up that morning, the look in Jiang Wuyan's eyes could practically drip water.

Both of them had been thoroughly satisfied by their lovemaking; just thinking of that soul-stealing scene made his heart tremble.

So Fang Chongyong was in a fine mood now, and was happy to exchange pleasantries and make small talk with this Hebei official he was meeting for the first time.

After all, it was just each side saying its own thing, talking past each other — it didn't matter what was said.

Either way, both sides were just putting on an act.

"Jiedushi Fang, the things written in that call to arms are all for outsiders to see.

The Jiedushi is a pillar of the state. Since you formerly served the false dynasty, you would naturally be the first target for our Hebei righteous army to eliminate — doesn't that just prove how important the Jiedushi is?

As for what the false dynasty's situation is like now, the Jiedushi has surely seen for himself.

The matter at Que-Shu Valley — outsiders may not understand the rights and wrongs of it, but could it be that Jiedushi Fang doesn't understand either?

Since the false dynasty can no longer accommodate the Jiedushi, why not do as the wise bird chooses its tree to nest in, and honor the Prince of Rong as the Son of Heaven?

The Prince of Rong also represents the Great Tang — he is equally the legitimate line of the Great Tang."

Zhang Xiu had a glib tongue, and these words were delivered with impeccable logic.

"A loyal servant does not serve two masters. Judge Zhang, there is no need to say more."

Fang Chongyong waved his hand lightly with a calm expression, not even bothering to debate with Zhang Xiu. This Zhang Xiu fellow, with nothing but empty words, wanted this and that — did he really take him, Fang, for a three-year-old child?

Sure enough, seeing that Fang Chongyong had no regard for him whatsoever, Zhang Xiu then reluctantly pulled a letter from his sleeve and presented it with both hands.

"Now that's a bit more interesting."

Fang Chongyong nodded slightly, not exposing Zhang Xiu's petty calculations, and directly took Huangfu Weiming's personal letter.

He broke the wax seal, took out the letter paper, and read it at a glance, his expression changing slightly.

Even for someone as well-traveled and knowledgeable as Fang Chongyong, he couldn't help being startled by Huangfu Weiming's grand gesture, and involuntarily drew a sharp breath.

A prince sharing one character with the emperor's name—all lands south of the Yellow River and east of Hulao Pass would fall under Fang Chongyong's jurisdiction. From Guangzhou in the south to the Yellow River in the north, across that vast territory, he could divide it into as many military governorships as he wished.

Countless official posts could be retained by Fang Chongyong to reward his subordinates.

And what Huangfu Weiming asked was very simple: when the Hebei rebel army marched south to attack Luoyang, Fang Chongyong need only do nothing at all—fight a battle of tacit understanding.

After Prince of Rong, Li Wan, took possession of Chang'an, Fang Chongyong would simply need to submit a surrender memorial.

Judging from this letter alone, the price Huangfu Weiming offered was extremely high, the risk Fang Chongyong faced was extremely small, and what he needed to do could be "negligible."

From every angle, Fang Chongyong had no reason to refuse—of course, the precondition being that Huangfu Weiming could deliver on what he promised in the future!

But even if Huangfu Weiming were to turn against him later, he would still have to tread carefully. By then Fang Chongyong would at the very least already control several dozen prefectures and could easily raise an army of two hundred thousand.

Simply put, this letter was less a summons to surrender than a peace treaty.

At least in Zhang Xiu's view, this letter was almost entirely one-sided in offering benefits to Fang Chongyong.

"This matter is of great importance; I must discuss it with my subordinate generals before saying more. Judge Zhang, you might as well stay at the relay station outside Kaifeng city for now.

In three days—no, three days at the latest—this Jiedushi will certainly give you an answer. How does that sound?"

Fang Chongyong said with a smile, appearing very relaxed, not at all looking as though he were about to turn hostile.

Zhang Xiu's heart was greatly set at ease.

Given the gravity of the matter, an immediate agreement was impossible. If Fang Chongyong were to promise everything right now, that would absolutely be brushing him off—his intentions would be condemnable.

But being momentarily undecided and wanting to consult with his subordinate generals meant he might actually be willing to compromise.

Zhang Xiu had served as administrative judge for the military governor in Youzhou, specifically responsible for executing affairs, and was very familiar with administrative procedures. He knew full well that a Jiedushi was not an emperor; whenever an important matter had to be promulgated, he had to explain it clearly to his subordinate generals and staff advisers and reach a consensus.

Fang Chongyong's request was perfectly reasonable.

"In that case, I shall wait patiently at the relay station for good news!"

After bowing with crossed hands to Fang Chongyong, Zhang Xiu withdrew with an unhurried air, leaving only Fang Chongyong sitting alone at his desk, brows tightly furrowed, lightly tapping the letter laid out on the desk with his index finger.

"In one breath, he wants to hand me the entire Southern Liang and a good half of the Northern Wei. Huangfu Weiming, oh Huangfu Weiming—a good deal is always a hard deal to pull off—do you not understand even this principle?

You're playing me for a fool. You look down on people far too much, don't you?"

Fang Chongyong shook his head and sighed, casually picking up a paperweight and pressing the letter beneath it.

He walked to the door of the study and instructed He Changqi, who was on duty: "Tell Che Guangqian and the others to come to the prefectural office to discuss an important matter. Right now."

"Understood!"

He Changqi strode off with long strides, accepting the order and departing.

"Men and women deceiving each other—so this is love!"

When no one else was around, Fang Chongyong muttered a quip in Sichuan dialect.