Chapter 115

The night over Xuan Prefecture City was scorched by sky‑wide firelight and clamorous cheers; the arrow clusters still lodged on the city walls had not been removed, and the moat's surface still floated specks of blood, yet these vestiges of war had already been washed away by the surging crowds along the streets.

The joy of victory diluted the bloodshed and fatigue brought by war; whether Wang Family soldiers or the citizens of Xuan Prefecture City, all were immersed in the excitement brought by this great triumph.

Inside the main hall of the Wang Family fortress, a scene of brilliant colors and blaring music unfolded; dozens of carved beams bore scarlet silk hangings, and the candles burned high, lighting the hall as brightly as daylight.

The Wang Family soldiers wore brand‑new armor, their faces still streaked with unwashed campaign dust, yet they could not hide the pride in their brows; they had just shattered the invincible Liang army and captured its chief commander, Wang Yan­zhang, an honor that warranted three days and nights of hearty drinking.

Cups clashed and shouts rose and fell across the banquet; some slapped their chests boasting of battlefield exploits, others clung to each other's robes weeping and laughing, the nerves that had been taut for days now completely relaxed, leaving only pure joy and abandon.

A grand victory feast was underway.

At the head table, Wang Po (Wang Xiu) wore a silver‑white brocade robe, a jade belt at his waist, his handsome face bearing the calm composure of a veteran of many battles.

He showed no trace of arrogance despite the great victory, his calm gaze sweeping over the assembled guests and settling on the few Liang commanders bound below the hall.

The leader was Wang Yan­zhang himself; this Liang commander's garments were stained with blood, his hair disheveled, his hands tightly bound with coarse hemp rope, yet he held his head high and chest out, and even as a prisoner his warrior's pride remained unbroken.

Wang Po rose slowly, stepped down from the head seat, and though his personal guards moved to stop him, he waved them back with a raised hand. He walked straight to Wang Yan­zhang, personally bent down, and untied the rope binding the commander's wrists. The red marks left by the hemp rope were clearly visible, Wang Yan­zhang's wrists trembled slightly, yet he did not bow his head.

"General Wang," Wang Po's gentle voice filled the hall, the banquet's clamor gradually fading as all eyes turned to the two commanders: "Victory and defeat are the common lot of soldiers. You served Zhu Youzhen loyally, led your troops in fierce combat; even in defeat and capture you remain a pillar‑of‑heaven, earth‑standing brave general. I, Wang Po, honor you as a true man."

Having spoken, he gestured to the sides; his guards promptly brought a cushioned seat and placed it at the head of the guest section. Wang Po personally extended his hand in an inviting gesture, then lifted his gold cup, the amber wine within clear and bright.

"Without an opponent as worthy as you, today's victory feast would lose a third of its flavor. I raise this cup to you, hoping you will set aside past grudges and join me in discussing the state of the world."

Wang Yan­zhang looked at the young man before him, nearly twenty years his junior, and a myriad of feelings welled up inside him.

He could not fathom how, after a lifetime of campaigning, he had been defeated so cleanly and completely.

Gazing into Wang Po's deep, calm eyes, he suddenly felt that perhaps he had not lost to the Wang Family's firearms or tactics, but to this young man before him, whose vision and breadth far surpassed the ordinary.

"A defeated general dare not claim bravery. The magnanimity of the Wang Family head—Wang, I admire you." Wang Yan­zhang sighed, lifted his cup, and drained it in one gulp.

He knew the Later Liang would now merely linger on; his life was owed to Wang Po, and from now on Wang Yan­zhang would likely have to serve the Wang Family.

In these turbulent times there are no shortage of loyal ministers and capable generals, yet the saying goes that a fine bird chooses its tree, a loyal minister chooses his lord; Zhu Youzhen did not heed his own advice and met this fate, but buying him time to escape was also an act of loyalty.

Having placated the surrendered commanders, Wang Po (Wang Xiu) then bestowed rewards on the Wang Family soldiers who had distinguished themselves in the battle; gold, silver, and land were given without stint, pushing the banquet's atmosphere to its climax.

Everyone looked at their head of family with an almost reverent gaze.

It was the head of family who led them to create this miracle.

It was the head of family who led them to defeat the Court's invincible great army.

Yet amidst this fervent atmosphere, Wang Po (Wang Xiu)'s inner self remained utterly calm.

The banquet dispersed, the night grew deep and still.

The Wang Family's core council convened in secret within the study.

Among the outstanding youths of their generation were Wang Po's (Wang Xiu's) uncle Wang Tian, and several venerable elders of high virtue and prestige, all present.

Their faces still bore the excitement and fervor that had not yet faded.

"Po'er," several elders gazed at him, their eyes full of pride and gratification, saying, "In this battle our Wang Family has displayed its might across the world! Zhu Youzhen's main force has been annihilated; the Later Liang can no longer continue."

Li Cunxu may be strong, but having just endured a great war he lacks the strength to look southward; now Zhongyuan lies empty, and this is the perfect moment for our Wang Family to seize the throne of all under heaven.

"Yes, Head of Family!" another elder exclaimed excitedly, "Our Wang Family now boasts strong troops and sturdy horses, and bears the Mandate of Heaven! With just your command we can march north, take Bianliang and Luoyang outright, revive a dynasty, and establish an achievement for the ages."

"Please, Head of Family, ascend the throne and proclaim yourself emperor!"

For a moment the study rang with fervent excitement; everyone believed the Wang Family had reached the point of overturning the dynasty and replacing it. The Wang Family's ancestral precept of "not calling oneself king" now seemed, in the face of such glorious victory, amenable to change.

Yet Wang Po (Wang Xiu) slowly shook his head.

"No."

His voice was not loud, yet it silenced the entire study in an instant.

All looked at him with incomprehension.

"Uncles and brothers," Wang Po (Wang Xiu) rose, walked to the wall of the study where a huge newly drawn world map hung—this was the result of his several days' work, restoring the world map of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period.

"Leaving aside the ancestral precept, you are all correct. With our present strength, marching north to contend for Zhongyuan indeed offers a great chance."

"But then what?"

He turned to face them.

"Even if we seize Zhongyuan and found a new dynasty, can we escape the cycle that has plagued this land for centuries—rise, golden age, decline, internal strife, destruction—endlessly repeating?"

"Founding, prosperity, decline, internal turmoil, ruin… repeating forever without end."

"A dynasty lasting three hundred years is already the limit; when that time comes our descendants will again face war and displacement. What meaning, then, do our actions today hold?"

His words fell like a bucket of cold water on the heads of the heated crowd.

They had never contemplated such a far‑reaching issue.

"Then… what do you mean, Po'er?" the crowd asked, somewhat hesitant.

Wang Po (Wang Xiu) did not answer directly; he extended his hand and pointed to the vast blue expanse occupying most of the map's surface—the ocean.

"Our future does not lie in that crowded, internally consumptive land of Zhongyuan."

"Our course is this endless sea of stars!"

"Sea of stars?"

Everyone froze, utterly unable to grasp the meaning of that term.

Wang Xiu also realized he had misspoken, and quickly switched to a phrasing they could understand.

"Father, uncles, please look." He pointed to the Zhongyuan dynasties' territory on the map, saying, "This land we call All Under Heaven, but in fact it is only a tiny part of this world."

"To the east of this sea lies an island nation called Wa, rich in gold and silver; its emperor is figureheaded by ministers, local magnates abound, and internal strife never ceases."

"To the south of this sea lie countless islands and lands; there are inexhaustible spices, timber, and gems. Their soil is even more fertile than all of Jiangnan, and their people still live in a slash‑and‑burn, primitive state."

"To you these places may seem barbarian lands, but to me they are unclaimed treasures!"

Wang Po (Wang Xiu)'s voice was filled with captivating power.

"Why should we clash with Li Cunxu and company on that Zhongyuan battlefield of constant warfare, battering ourselves bloody? Why not step off this board?"

"We can build a fleet, the strongest in the world! We can sell our goods to every corner of the globe! We can station our soldiers and officials on every fertile land!"

"We can establish overseas countless territories richer than Jiangnan, belonging to our Wang Family!"

"By then, the dynasties of Zhongyuan, no matter how they change, will no longer be able to threaten us. Our Wang Family will truly be eternally steadfast, sharing weal and woe with the state!"

In the study, a deathly silence.

Wang Tian and the others' thoughts still lingered on the rise and fall of the Zhongyuan dynasty.

And Wang Po's gaze had already turned toward the whole world!

This is a mode of thinking they had never imagined.

"But... overseas, the winds and waves are perilous, barbarians everywhere, miasma rampant..." a clan elder still said with some worry.

"These are not problems." Wang Po (Wang Xiu) confidently said, "Our shipbuilding technology has already advanced to the point where we can attempt to build large ships capable of withstanding wind and waves. Our medicine also has most methods to overcome miasma and disease. As for the barbarians..."

A hint of coldness flashed in his eyes.

"In the face of our cannons and firearms, even the fiercest barbarians can only learn what courtesy means."

"As for manpower..." he chuckled, "We haven't just captured nearly a hundred thousand Liang troops, have we? They are all able-bodied laborers. Rather than let them idle in Jiangnan, it's better to give them the opportunity to go overseas, achieve merit, and open up new homelands."

"I believe they will be very willing."

Using prisoners of war to develop new territories?

This is simply unheard of, yet... damn, it's truly full of temptation!