Chapter 65: The Choice

The Feng residence in the Eastern Capital.

"Chancellor, you've returned!"

Greeted by servants, Feng Dao returned to his residence. With a glance of his eyes, the gatekeeper swiftly closed the mansion gates. Though he had been appointed a high minister by the Liao emperor and still held prominence at court, the Feng residence was decidedly desolate.

It was now the third month, and the weather was gradually warming. With the steady gait of an old man, he strode straight into the main hall. Old Chancellor Feng loosened his robes to let in air as he took a fan and began to wave it.

When a maidservant presented tea, he drank two mouthfuls before finally slowing down. He took several deep, heavy breaths, his breath somewhat scorching—whether from the dry heat of the weather or from his own troubled mood, he could not tell. Frowning, the furrows on his face seemed even deeper.

"Give the order—have everyone in the household pack up and prepare their luggage." With a sigh, Feng Dao commanded the servant waiting at his side.

The servant, bewildered, stared blankly at Feng Dao and asked in confusion: "Chancellor, are you going on a long journey?"

"Idiot!" At this, Feng Dao's beard bristled as he immediately scolded: "Look at this Eastern Capital—the whole city is armed, patrols pass endlessly outside the gates. Do you think they'd let this old man slip away?"

Feng Dao had flown into an inexplicable rage, but when he looked up and saw the servant's cowering, submissive manner, he could not help but shake his head helplessly. Why was he bothering to argue with this dull-witted servant?

He waved his hand, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and said: "A long journey—that's not entirely wrong, I suppose. Enough, just hurry and pass along the order..."

"Yes!"

Since the start of the third month, the commotion in the Eastern Capital had grown ever greater. The Khitan looked as though they intended to strip the city bare, and their intention to withdraw was plain to see.

Some old ministers of the Shi Jin secretly rejoiced, only hoping the Hu barbarians would return north soon. But Feng Dao was not so optimistic. The old chancellor's mind was perfectly clear—did they truly think Yelu Deguang would be satisfied with plundering some wealth and goods?

At today's morning court in Chongyuan Hall, after the session ended, Yelu Deguang had summoned him alone for a chat. He asked whether Feng Dao was truly loyal to the Great Liao, whether he sincerely served him. He also brought up the matter of Feng Dao's earlier mission to the Khitan, when he had spent two years in the northern lands, and reminisced with him about those days...

It was nearly an open declaration to Feng Dao. How could this old fox fail to understand? Naturally, he responded attentively, skillfully expressing his loyalty, showing not the slightest failure to read the room. And so, the moment he returned to his residence, he had people pack the luggage—no need for the Khitan to come knocking.

Of course, if asked his true heart, he absolutely did not wish to follow the Liao court north. But when one is under another's roof, one must lower one's head.

Standing up, Feng Dao's expression was grave. He paced back and forth, sighing deeply. At present, the only thing he could count as fortunate was that his family and descendants had not accompanied him to Bian.

"It's been so long, and not a single word has come back. I wonder whether the letter reached Jinyang, whether contact was made?" Involuntarily, Feng Dao gazed toward the northwest, silently thinking to himself.

But soon, the bitterness on his face deepened. Even if contact were made, the Liao sovereign led an army of several hundred thousand—how could Liu Zhiyuan exhaust all of Hedong's strength to strike at the Khitan host? As he pondered, Feng Dao held little hope for his remaining years, even though he was already a man with half his body in the grave.

"Perhaps this old man truly will end up sleeping forever in a foreign land..." His face showed desolation, his voice carried melancholy, as Feng Dao stroked his long beard and sighed.

His emotions carried indignation—but that was all.

Compared to Feng Dao, who had no choice, the surrendered ministers and generals of the Shi Jin in the various prefectures of the Central Plains under Khitan rule had far more options.

A hundred li west of the Eastern Capital, on the Bian River, a fleet of ships slowly sailed upstream toward the west. There were several dozen vessels, with Liao banners flying from their masts. All were large ships, riding deep in the water—clearly carrying heavy cargo.

This fleet had set out from the Eastern Capital. Most of what filled the holds were various weapons and armor confiscated by the Liao army, destined to be shipped by water northward.

Aboard the ships, besides the boatmen plying the oars, the escorting troops were mostly former surrendered soldiers of the Jin army. Together, the soldiers guarding the ships numbered over a thousand. Of course, there were also about a hundred Khitan accompanying them as overseers.

That these surrendered Jin soldiers had been assigned to transport military materiel like armor and weapons clearly meant they had earned the Khitan's "trust." Their commander was named Wu Xingde, who had originally served as a Chief Inspector of a command in the Jin imperial army. Last year, after the Khitan army entered Bian, he had surrendered along with most of the Shi Jin forces.

After surrendering, Wu Xingde became a qualified traitor—an activist in front of the Khitan, working diligently to ingratiate himself and toil for them, earning the Khitan's trust. Until today, when he was entrusted with this important task.

On one of the ships, Wu Xingde stood steadily at the stern, his gaze sweeping over a town on the bank of the Bian River. Rows of houses clustered together, nestled against the river—it should have been a prosperous, bustling town, yet at this moment it appeared utterly desolate, eerily quiet.

"Elder brother, sixty more li of waterway and we'll reach Heyin!" A man dressed in a junior officer's uniform walked up to Wu Xingde and reported.

The man was Wu Xingde's younger brother, Wu Xingyou.

"Mm!" Wu Xingde, nearing forty, was powerfully built and spoke in a deep, booming voice: "How are the preparations?"

At this, Wu Xingyou nervously glanced at the Khitan soldiers in the distance and said in a low, tense voice: "The old brothers are all contacted and willing to follow you—just give the order!"

"Tonight, we strike at Heyin!" Wu Xingde said decisively: "Pass the word—don't act strangely, don't let the Khitan catch on!"

"Yes!"

"Succeed, or die trying!" Staring at the town growing smaller on the riverbank, Wu Xingde silently swore. His hand gripped the ship's railing with tremendous force, actually leaving imprints in the hardwood.

At dusk, the fleet arrived smoothly at Heyin and dropped anchor by the shore. The Khitan soldiers, acting like lords, disembarked first under their officers' command, preparing to rest and recuperate at the Heyin docks. These Hu were clearly unaccustomed to the water—after less than two hundred li of river travel, they were in terrible shape.

Wu Xingde, meanwhile, still diligently and earnestly saw to the fleet's arrangements before leading his men ashore. After night fell, he bared his fangs.

Wu Xingde actually enjoyed considerable prestige among these surrendered Jin soldiers. He gathered some three hundred brave men, and with swords drawn and blades in hand, they launched a direct assault on the Khitan soldiers serving as army supervisors.

Off their game and without any vigilance, all one hundred-plus Khitan were killed. Wu Xingde personally slew the Khitan military officer in charge of the escort, took his head, and carried it back.

The commotion at the docks had long since drawn attention. Since they had already made their move, there was no further need for concealment. Wu Xingde assembled all the surrendered soldiers who had been transporting the goods, displayed the Khitan officer's head, and shouted at the top of his lungs a rousing speech:

"We have received great favor from our state, yet we are now under the thumb of the Khitan. Lord Liu of Hedong, to whom the Mandate of Heaven has turned, has already proclaimed himself emperor at Jinyang, calling upon us soldiers and civilians of the Central Plains to resist the Hu barbarians together. Now the realm is seething, and the Khitan wish to flee. Rather than leave our homeland and cast ourselves into the border wastes, to become ghosts in a foreign land, how much better to join with you gentlemen in driving out these wicked hordes, establishing merit, quelling chaos, and winning wealth and honor!"