Chapter 814: Meng Chang's Awakening

"Father, at this point, sighing is useless. Our dynasty already stands in the most perilous position. If we wish to protect our homeland and ancestral temples, we must take effective measures to resist the great army!"

The speaker was Meng Chang's eldest son, the Prince of Qin, Meng Xuanzhe. He had inherited his father's genes, being quite handsome, not yet twenty years of age, intelligent, perceptive, and elegant in bearing. He had always been favored by Meng Chang, and had the Later Shu's reign lasted longer, he would surely have been the Crown Prince. Because of the nation's peril, his young face also wore a deeply solemn expression.

Hearing his words, Meng Chang remained kind toward his beloved son, but his face showed melancholy, and his tone was utterly dejected: "With strong troops and perilous passes to the north, we still could not stop the Han army. With Chengdu as it is now, what can be done?"

Seeing Meng Chang's demeanor, a flicker of gloom passed over Meng Xuanzhe's features as well. He said in a deep voice: "Your son believes that at this time, we should either gather troops and march north to provide support, or consolidate our soldiers and provisions and hold Chengdu firmly, waiting for changes to occur. If we do nothing at all, the soldiers and people of Chengdu will surely collapse on their own, and the Han army will be able to roll up their armor and enter the city!"

"General Zhao, how many troops remain in Chengdu?" Meng Xuanzhe asked a general standing before the throne.

"To answer Your Highness, the imperial army in Chengdu, plus the bandit-suppression troops I brought back and the forces summoned from the various prefectures, still numbers over thirty thousand..." Zhao Jiwen thought for a moment and gave an approximate figure.

Pressured by the Han army's formidable advance, the Later Shu court reached a "consensus" with the rebellious Liao people of Ling and Rong prefectures, simply enfeoffing those two prefectures to them. In this way, all eight thousand-odd soldiers under Zhao Jiwen's command were recalled to Chengdu to strengthen its defenses.

And as the generals to the north either died, were captured, or surrendered, Zhao Jiwen in Chengdu suddenly rose to become one of the foremost guardian generals of the state—a pillar of support. Of course, whether Zhao Jiwen was willing to serve as this heaven-upholding, throne-protecting general under such circumstances was something known only to himself.

At present, among the armies in Chengdu, only Zhao Jiwen's "Bandit-Suppression Army" had any real fighting capability, after all, they had nine months of combat experience against the Liao people of Ling and Rong prefectures.

"With these thirty thousand troops, if we can also recall all the soldiers, money, and grain from the northern prefectures, and conscript able-bodied young men from Chengdu and its surroundings into the army—the Han army totals no more than sixty-odd thousand. Coming from a thousand li away, fighting battle after battle, their troops will be weary and their horses spent. We may well be able to hold Chengdu and drive them back!" Meng Xuanzhe said.

However, Meng Chang seemed unmoved by his suggestion. Indeed—what magnificent and grand blueprints Wang Zhaoyuan had drawn for him before, what complete strategies against the Han! And what was the result? Defeat in battle, capture, loss of troops and territory. This mere stripling, with no hair on his lips—how could his words be taken seriously?

After pondering for a while, Meng Chang continued to ask Ouyang Jiong: "What of the defensive situation in the east?"

At the question, Ouyang Jiong's voice grew even lower as he said: "Since the fall of Kuizhou and the great defeat at Yun'an, no new reports of battle have come in. But it can be surmised that the eastern Sichuan defenses are weak, the various prefectures will fall one after another, and the Han army must be making their way up the river..."

Hearing this, an even deeper layer of ashen despair settled over Meng Chang's face. After a long, silent deliberation, he raised his head with some difficulty and looked toward the two chief ministers, Li Hao and Wu Zhaoyi: "The state has reached the brink of destruction. You two ministers, why do you not speak?"

At the question, the two exchanged a glance. Wu Zhaoyi, hunched over with his aged body, said softly: "Your Majesty, since the Northern Han raised its armies, our dynasty has suffered defeat after defeat. Our elite troops are all lost, our strategic passes are all gone, and our grain, fodder, weapons, and armor have suffered incalculable losses. Within Chengdu, hearts are restless; outside Chengdu, disturbances break out constantly. Though the capital is well-fortified and there are still tens of thousands of troops within our borders, they have all lost their will to fight and are no longer fit for use..."

Wu Zhaoyi spoke at great length, being quite long-winded, reciting the situation that everyone present already knew well—utterly worthless, distinguished only by its evasiveness. To Meng Chang's ears, it was like a fly buzzing around, droning on and on, stirring irritation. Looking at Wu Zhaoyi—this pedantic old fossil, where was the insight and strategic counsel of former days? Suddenly, he gained a clearer understanding of these ministers.

In truth, Wu Zhaoyi at this moment was filled with regret—regret that he had not resigned and returned to his hometown earlier, to enjoy his remaining years in peace. And so now, with the state in peril, he could not rashly request to step down without ruining his lifelong "pure" reputation. He could only accompany the Later Shu dynasty he had served for decades on its final journey...

Meng Chang then looked at Li Hao. This gentleman lowered his head slightly, wearing an expression of guilt, and said: "Your Majesty, your old minister knows nothing of military affairs. On this matter of resisting the Han, we should listen to General Zhao's opinion!"

Hmm, kick the ball to Zhao Jiwen, this "heaven-upholding pillar." In Li Hao's heart, he felt that surrender was viable, but he was unwilling to say it aloud—he wanted to preserve his "late integrity," and it was also the emperor's decision to make. Moreover, from his understanding of Meng Chang, the man would not choose to resist to the bitter end. When Meng Chang spoke, then he could obey the edict and act...

His gaze fell upon Zhao Jiwen. Zhao Jiwen seemed to have a measure of bold spirit, speaking directly: "Your Majesty, if the Han army comes in full force, I cannot guarantee I can drive them back in open field. But as His Highness the Prince of Qin said, if we concentrate our forces and defend the city, perhaps we can withstand them. But whether we can hold against the Han army, I dare not guarantee!"

Hearing this, Meng Chang was somewhat moved. He said to Zhao Jiwen: "What Minister Zhao has said shows complete sincerity. I appoint you Defense Commissioner of the Capital. All troops within and outside Chengdu shall be under your command and direction, with full authority over all matters concerning resistance against the Han!"

This handed all military authority to Zhao Jiwen, showing complete trust. Zhao Jiwen was momentarily stunned, but he still knelt in obeisance, both moved and solemn: "Thank you for Your Majesty's trust! Your minister will exert every effort!"

"Whether the state can continue, whether the ancestral temples can be preserved—all depends on Minister Zhao!" Meng Chang recovered some spirit, his tone emotional, clasping his hands toward Zhao Jiwen.

Similar words had been spoken by Meng Chang before—to Wang Zhaoyuan, before he marched north.

Zhao Jiwen was moved by this and said solemnly: "Yes!"

However, after walking out of the palace, when the cold autumn wind blew against him, the surging heat in his blood cooled. He could not help but mock himself: "I never imagined that I, Zhao Jiwen, would come to this day—upholding the heavens, protecting the throne, great power in my hands..."

But at this time, in this situation, what use was this power?

Yet, thinking seriously about it—it was actually useful! At the very least, holding military authority in Chengdu meant that whether the Han army came and one chose to fight or surrender, it was a bargaining chip. As for supporting the Meng clan in resisting the Han, even if Zhao Jiwen had the will, he lacked the strength!

In that case, Yi Shenzheng could not be allowed to return to Chengdu. Otherwise, if that imperial relative brought troops back, the one calling the shots might no longer be himself...

While Zhao Jiwen's thoughts were complicated, in the rear hall, Meng Chang and his son still sat facing each other. The candlelight in the palace was dim and murky, and as it fell upon Meng Chang's face, no trace of hope could be seen.

"Father, you've handed all military authority to Zhao Jiwen. Can Zhao Jiwen bear such a great responsibility? Remember, he couldn't even pacify the Liao savages of Ling and Rong prefectures—how could he be a match for the Han army?" Meng Xuanzhe said to Meng Chang.

Seeing his beloved son's worried expression, Meng Chang revealed a hint of resignation. His entire body slumped into the imperial throne in a posture of surrender as he said to Meng Xuanzhe: "But besides Zhao Jiwen, who else in Chengdu is fit to lead the army? And how many of Chengdu's troops are still willing to don armor and draw bows for the Meng clan? Regardless, Zhao Jiwen's 'Bandit-Suppression Army' still has some fighting strength, and enough influence to keep the other troops in check."

"If you were a few years older, your father could have given the army to you!" Looking at Meng Xuanzhe, Meng Chang said wistfully. Then he shook his head violently: "No, no! You cannot lead troops!"

Meng Chang seemed somewhat agitated, his face flushed red, as if he could not catch his breath. Meng Xuanzhe hurried forward, patting his back to help him smooth his breathing, saying with concern: "Father, do not be too anxious..."

Slowly recovering, Meng Chang's slightly reddened eyes held a faint trace of sorrowful tears as he said: "My son! Your father knows full well in his heart that the rivers and mountains of Great Shu cannot be preserved. The foundation your grandfather established will be destroyed by my hands.

Since ancient times, the Shu region has never been a land that could be held forever. Even if one carves out a separate domain, when the Central Plains grows strong, they will inevitably send armies west. In those days, I too was inspired, wishing to emulate the Marquis of Wu's northern expedition—to expand our territory, prolong the nation's fortune, and achieve great deeds. But in the end, I entrusted the task to the wrong person, leading to a great defeat and a futile drain on the nation's strength.

Think of me, Meng Chang—I have ruled Shu for over twenty years. I dare not call myself a great sovereign, but I consider that I have treated the ministers and people of Shu with generosity and respect. Yet what grieves my heart is that in this time of crisis, among so many lords and ministers, not one is willing to give their loyalty to Great Shu.

All those honored gentlemen, silent as can be. Do they think I cannot see it? They are already sitting and waiting for Great Shu's fall, waiting to throw themselves into the Northern Han's embrace, even preparing to welcome the Han army into the city..."

Meng Chang's words grew more agitated and more sorrowful as he spoke. Hearing this, Meng Xuanzhe could not help but choke up. He knelt before Meng Chang, opened his mouth, but did not know what to say.

Finally recovering himself, Meng Chang wiped the tears and mucus from his face, heedless of his appearance, and said to Meng Xuanzhe: "Shu may fall, but the Meng clan must continue. Your father tells you plainly: when the Han army comes, if we cannot withstand them, we will present a memorial of surrender to preserve our lives!"

Hearing these solemn words, Meng Xuanzhe rose, rubbed his reddened eyes, and asked: "Father, have you decided?"

"Do you think that with the state as it is now, the tide can still be turned?" Meng Chang asked in return.

Meng Xuanzhe sighed.

Seeing this, Meng Chang said to him gravely: "I place all the palace guards under your command. Protect the imperial city against any contingency! My son, the Meng clan—your grandmother, your father, and your younger brothers and sisters—all depend on you for protection!"

Taking a deep breath to calm his sorrowful emotions, Meng Xuanzhe said: "Yes!"

Just after the Mid-Autumn Festival, more dire news came from the north. Yi Shenzheng was again defeated at Baxi and retreated with his remaining troops to Luojiang. When the Han army reached Deyang, Yi Shenzheng ran no more and simply surrendered. With that, all seventy-odd thousand Shu troops to the north were completely lost, captured by the Han army.

The Han army had reached Deyang, now no more than 150 li from Chengdu—Han cavalry could arrive in a single day. Of course, what shook the Chengdu court even more was an army coming from the east, an army that had arrived at Chengdu's eastern outskirts.

This was the eastern route Han army, personally led by Zhao Kuangyin on a long-distance raid against Chengdu. Though numbering only a few thousand, they had the effect of divine soldiers descending from heaven, and the shock they brought to Chengdu was even greater.