Chapter 89

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Zhenyuan 21st year, winter.

Yangzhou, the Wang Family mansion beside the Slender West Lake.

After the snow cleared, the glazed tiles refracted blinding light in the sunlight; flying eaves, carved beams and painted pillars—nothing failed to display the wealth accumulated by this family over a century.

In the warm-as-spring study, the floor heating burned fiercely, the air filled with the unique scent of premium dragon's saliva incense mixed with aged scrolls.

Wang Zong sat on a grand chair covered with thick white fox fur, a brocade blanket draped over him, holding a cup of ginseng tea that had long gone cold.

He was already very old; the emperor allowed him to return to his hometown to spend his remaining years in peace.

His eye sockets were deep, his skin like dry bark; only when he occasionally lifted his eyes did a flash of sharpness appear, as if he could see into people's hearts and perceive worldly affairs.

As the fourth generation of the Wang Family, he had long ceased to concern himself with any specific affairs; his elder brother, the fourth-generation head of the Wang Family, Wang Xiao, had already passed away, and the family's daily affairs were managed by his steady eldest son, Wang Jing, the fifth-generation head of the Wang Family.

But everyone in the Wang Family knows that this uncle, who dragged the entire family out of the mountain of corpses and sea of blood from the 'Ganlu Incident,' is not to be trifled with, and many are willing to hear his opinion.

Wang Jing stood respectfully to the side, softly reporting this month's accounts of the merchant house.

"'Uncle, last month our silk trade with the merchants of the Great Arab State earned another thirty thousand strings. Our fleet at Quanzhou Port is also ready, awaiting the spring thaw to set sail again...'"

Wang Zong said nothing, merely waving his hand to signal him to stop.

His gaze fell upon the stack of secret reports on the desk from the Capital and various places.

These pieces of intelligence are more valuable than gold and silver; they are the eyes and ears that the Wang Family has built at great expense of money and connections.

【Capital Prefecture, more than half of the households have fled, and tax revenue is down to less than one-tenth.】

【The three garrisons of Hebei, the military commissioners have privately raised troops, their arms and armor excellent, already exceeding one hundred thousand.】

【The Divine Strategy Army, corruption among officers is rampant, they withhold rations, and the soldiers' complaints fill the roads.】

【The Jiannan Circuit, a great drought, corpses of the starving litter the ground, and bandits gather to howl in the mountains.】

……

One after another, the cold pieces of intelligence, in Wang Zong's (Wang Xiu's) mind, sketched out a scene utterly different from Yangzhou's song-and-dance prosperity—a doomsday-like, grim panorama.

He (Wang Xiu) knew that the Huichang Restoration was merely a last flare before sunset; he could not save the Tang Dynasty.

What he now wants to do, and the only thing he can do, is to build a fortress for the Wang Family before doomsday arrives, one capable of sheltering everyone.

Ten years remain before the Huang Chao Rebellion that will sweep the world.

Time, not much left.

"'Jing'er.' Wang Zong hoarsely opened his mouth."

"'Uncle, I am here.' Wang Jing hurriedly stepped forward a pace and bowed in reply."

"'Use your name to notify everyone: tonight we will hold the Wang Family's highest meeting. All the direct descendants of the fourth and fifth generations present in Yangzhou must attend, none may be absent.'"

Wang Jing's heart jolted, but he dared not ask further; he immediately replied, 'Yes, uncle.'

That evening, the Wang Family ancestral hall.

Lights blazed, yet the atmosphere was solemn and oppressive enough to make one breathless.

In the center of the ancestral hall, the spirit tablets of Wang Jin, Wang Hui, Wang You, Wang Ce, and others were quietly displayed.

Wang Zong sat at the head seat, his nephew Wang Jing, and several sons of his brothers, the core members of the fourth generation of the Wang Family, seated on either side.

Below them were the fifth generation of the Wang Family, a dozen or so vigorous youngsters.

Most of them grew up in Jiangnan, living in luxury, indulging in poetry and couplets, never having experienced real hardship; looking at the solemn atmosphere in the ancestral hall now, their faces showed some confusion and bewilderment.

"'Today I have summoned you to announce a matter of life and death for the Wang Family.'"

Wang Zong (Wang Xiu)'s voice was not loud, yet it struck like a heavy hammer, pounding hard into everyone's hearts.

Life and death? Some of the younger scions dismissed it, but the older ones' faces grew solemn.

Everyone held their breath; in the ancestral hall, even a dropped pin could be heard.

Wang Zong's gaze swept slowly over each person, finally settling on his nephew Wang Jing.

"Starting tomorrow, all of the Wang Family's northern holdings, except for essential intelligence outposts, will be downsized and sold off."

"What?!"

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone in the hall was shocked.

Wang Jing's face also changed drastically; he couldn't help but exclaim, "Uncle! Absolutely not! Our salt and iron and cloth business in the north brings the family at least 100,000 guan in profit each year! If we sell it all, the foundation of our Wang Family would be as good as half cut off!"

"Yes, Third Uncle! Why would you do this?" a young scion also asked, summoning his courage.

Wang Zong (Wang Xiu) did not answer them, but continued in an unquestionable tone, issuing one order after another that made everyone's scalp tingle.

"The proceeds from selling off the holdings, as well as all the gold and silver stored in the family's treasury, will be used for three things."

"First, purchase weapons, armor, bows and crossbows, and warhorses from the garrisons everywhere, especially the military governors of the frontier forts, sparing no expense—buy as much as there is."

"Second, stockpile large quantities of grain, Salt Control, medicinal herbs, and cloth in Jiangnan. Fill all of our granaries to the brim!"

"Third, under the guise of the merchant house's guard, recruit refugees and retired veterans to form a guard force of no less than three thousand. Hire the best instructors, give them the best treatment, and drill them day and night!"

The entire ancestral hall was as silent as the grave.

Everyone was left dumbstruck by Wang Zong's series of crazy orders.

Downsizing holdings, stockpiling grain, purchasing weapons, forming a private army…

What is this for?

Is this meant to be a rebellion?!

"Uncle..." Wang Jing's voice trembled, "You... you are..."

"I haven't finished yet." Wang Zong cut him off, a flicker of cruelty flashing in his murky eyes.

"Starting tomorrow, all male members of the Wang Family aged fifteen to forty, regardless of lineage, must undergo two double-hours of martial practice and physical training each day. They must also study basic military tactics and drill formation."

"All Wang Family members serving as officials in the localities must, within three years, surrender their seals and resign their posts to return to Yangzhou. Anyone who refuses will be struck from the clan register!"

"Finally," he paused, then said word by word, "We will tear down this ancestral home in Yangzhou and rebuild it!"

I want to see, before I die, a brand‑new fortress that is easy to defend and hard to attack, capable of withstanding a siege by a great army!

Wang Zong's last words exploded in everyone's minds.

Mad!

Uncle (Granduncle) must have gone mad!

"Uncle! What exactly are you trying to do? If you don't make it clear, I… I'm sorry, I cannot obey!" Wang Jing, for the first and only time, openly questioned this old man who had never married and toiled for the Wang Family.

He knew that once these orders were carried out, the Wang Family would have no way back.

Wang Zong (Wang Xiu) looked at him, not angry, just let out a long sigh.

"Jing'er, lean in close."

Wang Jing hesitated a moment, then stepped forward and brought his ear close.

Wang Zong (Wang Xiu) lowered his voice to a whisper only they could hear and said:

Wang Jing's face turned deathly pale in an instant, devoid of color.

He widened his eyes, staring in disbelief at his own uncle, his body trembling uncontrollably.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but couldn't utter a word.

After a long while, he slowly knelt on the ground, bowing deeply before Wang Zong and knocking his head three times.

"Child… I obey!"