Chapter 571: Chaste and Fierce Woman

"Why don't you write an article about peaches and give it a try?"

In the study, Fang Chongyong said to the embarrassed Da Congming, pointing at the paper on the desk before them.

"Jiedushi, then… I shall make a fool of myself."

Da Congming cautiously clasped his fists in salute to Fang Chongyong, then deftly ground ink and lifted his brush with a perfectly standard stroke.

He must be a noble youth who has practiced calligraphy since childhood.

Fang Chongyong saw him write swiftly and neatly, and instantly understood.

Da Congming is no good‑for‑nothing; he simply wasn't trained as a guard. All his skill points went into reading, literacy, and essay writing.

This, in fact, is a problem of the Tang bureaucracy's rigidity.

Princes from tributary states sent as hostages must serve as palace guards. Yet many lack the aptitude for guard duty, but are still forced to don armor and wield swords.

Da Congming is exactly such a case.

"You clearly can't wield a sword; why do you hang one at your waist?"

Fang Chongyong let out a light sigh and said.

"Jiedushi, this is the Tang ancestral system; I, your subordinate, would rather not bear a sword either."

Da Congming couldn't help but remind Fang Chongyong.

The current guard attire isn't his idea; it's a strict Tang requirement for all hostages, which, once transmitted to the Bohai Kingdom, became Bohai law.

Fang Chongyong recalled the civil official garb of Da Qinmao, then thought of the book‑scented Da Zhenhui, and finally looked at the present Da Congming, whose brush flew like a dragon.

The Bohai Kingdom's yearning for civil governance is indeed plainly evident.

No wonder after its golden age, the Bohai Kingdom was wiped out by the Khitans, who surpassed them in everything except military might. Even members of the imperial line became obsessed with literature—can a nation's martial virtue thrive under that?

Without sharp swords, how can a country be defended?

"From now on, just speak directly about any matter. If you claim to be a scholar, He Laohu and the others will be too lazy to bother with you."

Fang Chongyong warned Da Congming.

"Jiedushi, that's the lesson, sigh!"

Da Congming sighed helplessly, handing the freshly completed 'Ode to Peaches' to Fang Chongyong for review.

Recalling the humiliation three days ago, he really had to thank Fang Chongyong for his towering authority in the army—his word was law, and no one dared to act rashly. Otherwise, it would have been unlikely for He Changqi and his band of Qiu Ba to kill Da Congming, but to snap off his leg in a duel would have been a breeze.

"Your literary talent is fine, but it's a pity,"

Fang Chongyong clicked his tongue in a sigh, not knowing what he was lamenting.

Da Congming lowered his head, unable to speak, feeling the words were not an insult.

In truth, Fang Chongyong only lamented that Da Congming's face, resembling a young Kim Seong‑woo, never appeared in Chang'an during the Kaiyuan–Tianbao era. Otherwise, perhaps he could have flirted with the Lady of Guo State or something.

That would have been a lot of fun.

"From now on, you will serve as marching staff officer, polishing the commander's orders and then delivering them."

Fang Chongyong suddenly folded away his smile and spoke seriously.

Huh?

Da Congming was startled; though the position was minor, it was highly critical. Previously, Che Guangqian or Feng Changqing held it concurrently, but now Che Guangqian has been dispatched to Dengzhou, Feng Changqing to Bozhou, leaving the post vacant.

"Jiedushi, this… this… is it perhaps a bit unsuitable?"

Da Congming suddenly wondered whether Jiedushi Fang had a particular interest in handsome men, fearing his own manhood.

"Rest assured, this office only requires you to do your duty; just remember who you're serving, understand?"

Fang Chongyong stared straight at Da Congming, making it impossible to refuse his request.

"I will certainly devote myself wholeheartedly to serving the Jiedushi."

Da Congming clasped his fists in salute, his face alight with excitement. He tried to kneel, but Fang Chongyong stopped him.

"It's not just devotion; from now on you will serve only me. Any order besides mine, you may ignore."

"Understood, command received!"

Da Congming trembled all over with excitement.

"Hmm, good to know."

Fang Chongyong gave a slight nod; in truth he was merely planning ahead.

Da Congming has no connection at all with the Yinqiang Xiaojie Army; indeed, he himself is a Bohai noble with no foothold in the Tang.

Once away from Fang Chongyong, Da Congming becomes nothing, unable to seek patronage elsewhere, let alone earn others' trust and favor.

This firewall is meant to guard against any of the future Qiu Ba under his command who might plot treachery.

Who can know the future? The presently loyal may, when tempted by greater gains, still be guaranteed not to rebel?

Fang Chongyong would not dare overestimate human nature at all.

Those now willing to lay their hearts bare for his loyal generals may later, after a marriage alliance with Fang Chongyong, side with his offspring.

Can this be called disloyalty? Everything is driven by profit.

"Go then, no need to make a fuss about this."

Fang Chongyong waved his hand; after saluting, Da Congming left the study.

Fang Chongyong rose, his eyes fixed on the Bianliang City plan hanging on the wall, scheming the series of measures to enact after Li Lin's ascension.

Militarily, the plan is to pull out the nail of Luoyang, "handing it over" to the Guanzhong court. Thus, for the safety of grain transport, the imperial forces must occupy Heyin County, even establishing a bridgehead at Liyang.

Otherwise, absolute safety of the grain transport cannot be guaranteed.

Yet the court has deployed its troops outward, stretching the supply lines.

And the Yinqiang Xiaojie Army will not meddle in those areas.

This is a very subtle move; if executed well, it will create a buffer near Yecheng that is painful for both the court and the Hebei rebels, yet impossible to abandon.

Whoever Bianzhou backs will win!

Now the canal and grain transport are being cut off, in order that after the Guanzhong court eliminates Li Baocen, they can relax it, opening it only to a limited extent—just enough that they are never full yet never die of hunger.

Fang Chongyong does not wish to rush into Guanzhong in one fell swoop; such rapid progress would merely be a wedding dress for Li Lan.

Gradually constructing Bianliang City is meant to control the capital from its roots. This is Fang Chongyong's attempt to alter the world's pattern; he refuses to follow the old path of the Middle Tang, let alone retrace the steps of the Early Tang.

Bianzhou lacks the super‑powerful warlords of Guanzhong, making it easier for Fang Chongyong to implement various reforms. Today the realm is in chaos, and wars have already caused varying degrees of damage to the civilian economy.

As long as one or two more strategic decisive battles occur, the pace at which the various forces attempt to unify the world will slow down. All sides will find themselves in a state of insufficient offense and ample defense.

Fang Chongyong feels this is a good opportunity to cultivate his own power.

Once this stage is reached, the outcome of war depends on logistics and the hard strength of the territories under control.

How to develop production, how to improve livelihoods, how to achieve political stability, and how to lessen the impact on the people while strengthening the army—these and similar issues are the challenges laid before everyone.

The future will no longer be an era where the strongest can simply stride across unchallenged.

Otherwise, a regime may flash briefly, survive only three to five years, and then its ruler will die and the clan be exterminated.

"Without a grand pattern, one cannot usher in a new era."

Fang Chongyong let out a long sigh; contrary to outsiders' impression of his confidence, the problems he perceives are farther and deeper.

"The new era is about allowing more people to become masters of the state.

Before it was hereditary aristocracy; now it will be landlords and gentry who change every few decades.

Although the population has increased, their sense of responsibility for the historical mission has grown apathetic.

The diversification of participation in governance inevitably leads to political fragmentation; there are more administrators, but fewer resisters.

When the golden age is enjoyed, there are countless participants; when it comes time to bear losses, each one becomes a self‑preserving deserter.

"The Great Tang is gone; can any successor truly surpass the Great Tang?"

Fang Chongyong muttered to himself, a trace of worry appearing on his face.

Using the imperial examinations at all levels as the selection mechanism, fellow students and teachers as relational bonds, humble‑origin landlords as background, and wealthy merchants and affluent households as supporting wings.

This is the political pattern after the Great Tang, a thousand‑year cycle of changing the soup but not the medicine.

The emperor alone stands lofty above all, and the civil‑official politics are centrally authoritarian.

The emperor and court play the official bureaucracy, while the gentry and wealthy households play the civilian sphere; on the surface they operate without interfering, yet in substance they sabotage each other.

The history of the previous life handed in such an answer sheet; many aspects are heartbreaking, yet they inevitably possess a certain logic.

Hereditary succession is a problem, but not the whole problem; among that series of issues it doesn't even rank in the top three.

History rolls on grandly, without any notion of good or evil. Countless events of past and present are reduced to jokes—that is the norm.

"The road ahead is long and has no ending; I will search high and low."

Fang Chongyong let out another long sigh; the most feared exam is an open‑book question with no standard answer.

"Ah, Lang, that woman has come again."

Just as Fang Chongyong was lost in thought, Da Zhenhui's voice came from behind: "Li Yi?"

Fang Chongyong turned around and asked, not finding it strange.

"It seems… Oh, so her name is Li Yi. She's prettier than I am,"

Da Zhenhui muttered softly.

Fang Chongyong recalled that Da Zhenhui previously seemed indifferent to her own looks, but now she is clearly a bit concerned.

She appears very relaxed, usually spending her days surrounded by books.

"Let her come in, don't leave; just stay here."

Fang Chongyong grasped Da Zhenhui's hand and said, honestly, he was a bit afraid of a woman like Li Yi, who has a fire in her heart.

"I wish to rest now."

Da Zhenhui wriggled out of Fang Chongyong's hand, lowered her head, and walked out the door, seeming a bit embarrassed.

A woman's intuition is keen; Da Zhenhui may already have guessed why Li Yi came tonight.

Da Zhenhui actually knows everything. How could she stay here and spoil the mood?

If she stays, she's just spying from outside!

Soon after, Li Yi entered the study alone. She wore a pristine ru‑skirt; her pale, fragrant shoulders were draped with a sheer veil, and her slender calves were partially visible—a truly splendid attire.

Her face bore light makeup but no penciled brows, making her stunning beyond compare.

In the feudal era, a young woman, beautifully dressed late at night, would come alone to a noble's study.

What she intends may no longer need to be explained in words.

It is all plainly displayed.

"Tonight, does the commander wish to witness a performance of Xi Shi playing the role of King Wu?"

Fang Chongyong looked at Li Yi and smiled, feeling a slight chill; many things are not impossible, but they carry hidden risks and consequences.

"Although I am a step‑daughter, my maternal clan is also the Wei family. Now that the Wei clan is in trouble, both publicly and privately, I must do my part,"

Li Yi crossed her arms and bowed to Fang Chongyong, very straightforward.

Fang Chongyong greatly appreciated this generosity and sincerity.

"Sit, no need for formalities."

Fang Chongyong instructed Li Yi to sit.

Before Li Yi could speak, Fang Chongyong mockingly said, "Li Baocen will attack Bianzhou; whether he wins or loses, you must return to Luoyang, otherwise he will certainly kill members of the Wei clan. Of course, that also includes some other troublesome Guanzhong people."

Seeing Li Yi appear unmoved, Fang Chongyong added, "Perhaps you would be killed even if you return; the difference would not be great."

"Indeed, there would be no real difference."

Li Yi let out a light sigh, saying little else.

Just as her purpose today is obvious, Li Baocen's intentions are equally plain. If the beauty scheme were useless to Li Baocen, perhaps Li Yi would already be in the commander Baocen's bed now.

"In fact, the Wei clan is likely preparing to marry you to a descendant of Huangfu Weiming, tightening the ties among the Li, Wei, and Huangfu families."

From one to another, and now to this place… It seems different, but in fact there's not much difference.

Fang Chongyong shook his head and sighed; he had no intention of desecrating Li Yi now, he was not a beast.

Li Yi's mouth curved into a faint smile; she shook her head helplessly and said, "Those who should have died back then, those who live now owe it to others' kindness, including Jiedushi Fang. In fact there's no unfairness; being alive is the greatest fairness."

Her elder brother Li Yun, simply because he was a male, was captured by Fang Chongyong and soon executed on Ji Ge's order.

Does the dead Li Yun seek fairness? To whom should he look?

Should he look to Fang Chongyong, the executioner, or to Ji Ge, the one who gave the order?

Facing a girl like Li Yi, Fang Chongyong always felt uneasy. Speaking the truth would expose wounds, while a lie would be seen through at a glance.

No matter how he spoke, it would be improper.

The two suddenly fell into a speechless silence.

Fang Chongyong could not change his stance toward the Hebei rebels for Li Yi.

Li Yi could not abandon the Wei clan that had helped and raised her for Fang Chongyong.

Both understood the other's stance could not change, yet were unwilling to utter those hurtful words.

"Jiedushi, I have… um, a very hard‑to‑voice question, I wonder if I may ask?"

Li Yi suddenly let out a snort of laughter, as if recalling something funny.

"But it's fine to speak."

Fang Chongyong's expression remained calm, but a bad premonition rose in his heart.

"If I were to kiss Jiedushi in this study, give a hug, could outsiders really tell anything?"

"Or perhaps stepping out of this room could be treated as if nothing happened?"

Li Yi blinked at Fang Chongyong, her expression like that of a child a few years old.

Eh?

Fang Chongyong had never considered this question.

Isn't this just… an affair? Or the high‑school level, sneaking into a little grove.

Just after a kiss, when caught by the homeroom teacher, they still dared to argue that nothing happened!

He couldn't help but laugh silently.

The situation Li Yi described does exist, and there are many. A secret tryst—kiss, hug—so long as no one sees and the woman's belly doesn't get pregnant, isn't that "nothing happened"?

Besides the moral dilemma, what else could there be?

Fang Chongyong suddenly understood: Li Yi's personality had been suppressed by reality, making her extremely rational. Yet in front of someone she trusts, she occasionally shows a mischievous side.

"I just want to indulge; what can you do to me? As long as there's no evidence, I can play as I wish! I won't admit it, and that's that!"

Li Yi probably already harbored this wicked thought.

"Your words… you should know that three feet above your head there are deities."

Fang Chongyong shook his head helplessly; he would never be so depraved. If one wants to play, just take a concubine openly, bring her home and enjoy—no need to sneak any affair!

"My birth mother Wu died of illness; later my adoptive mother Wei was violated by my grandfather and then poisoned by my father. My brother and all the male members of my family died at my grandfather's hands; my adoptive mother's family raised me, and I have been wandering ever since."

Li Yi laughed as she spoke, and as she continued, tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Even if there are deities three feet above, shouldn't they have pity on me?"

After saying that, Li Yi walked over and tightly embraced Fang Chongyong.

"Alas!"

Fang Chongyong let out a long sigh; he now understood that the last string in Li Yi's mind had been snapped.

A woman oppressed by reality for over a decade finally erupted at this moment!

His hands hung down, not knowing where to place them.

"A Lang, if we do it quietly, as long as I don't bear a child, no one will know our relationship.

I only wish to be your woman.

If you worry, A Lang, you may keep my chastity, and everything else can be whatever; then no one will know, and there is no evidence anyway.

You see, even if I told anyone, no one would believe; why suppress yourself?

I have never been touched by a man; I'm still pure…"

Li Yi gently kissed Fang Chongyong's ear, whispering low, her voice exuding an irresistible allure.

Should we eat the fatty meat placed at the mouth or not? Actually even if we play, we can deny it; shall we give it a try?

Fang Chongyong's mind was in turmoil.

Li Yi's identity is sensitive, but she herself is extremely alluring; to have her in one's hands and desecrate her, who knows how wonderful it would be.

As long as she remains a virgin, it's practically free play, with no consequences!

A voice in Fang Chongyong's mind screamed and shouted.

Just as his hand involuntarily reached for Li Yi's belt, the study's back door was suddenly thrown open!

Da Zhenhui rushed over, roughly pulling the two apart, almost using all her strength.

While Li Yi was still stunned, Da Zhenhui clutched Fang Chongyong's arm tightly, shaking it while shouting at him:

"A Lang! Didn't you say this woman is absolutely off‑limits now? You are meant to achieve great things!

If you must touch her now, then kill me first!

Anyway, if A Lang falls in the future, my father will also fall; if I fall into the enemy's hands I won't survive and will be humiliated.

Since it's all death anyway, I'd rather die under A Lang's blade! Come on, strike here!"

Da Zhenhui tapped her slender neck with her hand.

Li Yi was left bewildered by Da Zhenhui's sudden outburst; she didn't even know the woman's name.

The previously ambiguous atmosphere was completely ruined; Li Yi, with an embarrassed expression, picked up the sheer shawl that had fallen to the ground, adjusted her clothing, and finally gave Da Zhenhui a deep look.

She said nothing, calmly bowed to Fang Chongyong, then turned and left.

(End of chapter)