Chapter 310: A Father's Earnest Lessons Fall on Deaf Ears

After hearing his son's words, Wu Xiang's somewhat irritated mood oddly settled a little.

He looked at this spirited son before him, and a complicated feeling welled up unbidden in his heart.

One family, two jinshi — the boy might be unruly, but he did have some ambition after all.

"You insolent whelp, you certainly don't lack for gall."

Wu Xiang snorted, but his tone had clearly softened.

"Tong Chaoyi and Jiang Mingwu, two of my fellow military jinshi from the same examination year — they shone brilliantly at the Battle of Qingcheng, each of them earning red badges of valor."

"His Majesty's silver rewards, hundreds and thousands of taels, they took every last bit clean away — far better than us lot in Liaodong, drinking soldiers' blood, running contraband, making filthy money while dancing under the executioner's blade..."

At this, Wu Xiang's voice was filled with nothing but envy.

"Now Tong Chaoyi has gone to the Liaodong demonstration camp, and I hear that if the spring retraining of the new Shanhai army shows results, he'll advance another rank."

"And that blockhead Jiang Mingwu is even more incredible — he went straight into the Capital Camps demonstration unit, working right under His Majesty's nose, his prospects truly limitless!" The more Wu Xiang spoke, the tighter his chest felt; that jealousy grew wild in his heart like weeds.

He wasn't afraid of his brothers suffering — he was afraid of his brothers driving a Land Rover!

All had passed the examinations in the second year of Tianqi, yet he, Wu Xiang, had clung to Zu Dashou's coattails and was still just a mid-ranking military officer living at another man's mercy.

Above Garrison Commander was Mobile Corps Commander, above that Assistant Regional Commander, above that Vice Regional Commander, and only after Vice Regional Commander came Regional Commander!

This originally smooth career path, once compared, suddenly felt like a huge letdown.

And those two — though they now held ranks around Garrison Commander as well, how could it possibly be the same?

They were plainly about to soar to success and reach the imperial ear directly!

How could this not make him green with envy? How could it not fill him with anxiety?

Wu Sangui sat on a stool to the side, idly toying with a dagger in his hand. Hearing this, he couldn't help raising an eyebrow and said with mild surprise, "Father, if you have such solid connections with your examination-year comrades, why didn't you say so earlier?"

"If we could go through their connections, why would our family be fretting here over which side to pick?"

"This Governor Yuan, that Supreme Commander Sun — how can they compare to His Majesty's faction?"

Wu Xiang stopped in his tracks, spun around abruptly, and shot his son an exasperated glare.

"I've told you to read the Great Ming Times more often — what kind of paste have you got stuffed inside that head of yours?!"

Wu Sangui curled his lip, slid the dagger back into its sheath with a crisp click.

"That Tales of Loyalty in Liaodong has stopped updating anyway — what's left worth reading? It's nothing but the boring business of official promotions and transfers." "Or else it's some scientific way about the atmosphere, light refraction, and the like — reading it makes my head spin, as if I've been cursed." Wu Xiang's fists clenched hard just listening.

This son, born of his first wife, had been spoiled since childhood; now that his first wife had passed, the boy had become a wild horse with no bridle.

But matters of politics — however much this rascal hated hearing them, he had to force them down his throat.

If the Great Ming's military affairs depended solely on bow and horse, how could Liaodong have fallen to its present state?

A military officer who doesn't understand politics is nothing but expendable material in the bureaucratic arena.

Wu Xiang drew a deep breath, suppressed his rising anger, and spoke with earnest gravity:

"If there really were some connection to exploit, your uncle is right there in Ningyuan — wouldn't that be far better than relying on people you barely know?"

"And besides, in this world, where exactly did you get the idea that military officers promote other military officers?"

He walked up to Wu Sangui and counted off point by point:

"In the last years of Wanli, your uncle lost his position through inaction on the field and was sentenced to imprisonment awaiting execution by law! I personally took several brothers of the Zu family to the capital to seek out civil officials, emptied our family coffers, and only then did we work the connections to get him pardoned!"

"When Supreme Commander Sun was in office, he wanted to execute your uncle for embezzlement in repairing the city walls — and it was Governor Yuan who pleaded for mercy, and only then was he forgiven."

"When have the military officers of the Great Ming not lived at the mercy of civil officials, not watched the expressions on civil officials' faces?"

"Even that Qi Shaobao and Li Rusong you're always going on about — which of them didn't have a powerful civil-official patron backing them at court?"

Wu Xiang straightened up, his tone growing even more envious:

"Man Gui first won the trust of Supreme Commander Wang (Wang Xiangqian), then was promoted by Supreme Commander Sun — in just six years, he rose from a Garrison Commander to a frontier marshal." "He Kegang may have passed the military examinations, but he's not even a jinshi — out here in Liaodong, that counts for a ball of nothing!"

"A mere homeless wanderer — the moment he caught Governor Yuan's discerning eye, he became a Commissioner-in-Chief in four years."

"What damn use is a military officer? If you want to find a way up, you need to pay more attention to the transfers of the civil officials above you!"

"Look at every governor and supreme commander who roots out corruption and executes men — have they ever executed everyone they should? In the end, it's nothing but purging rivals, consolidating authority, all so they can get things done!" "Pick a side! Pick a side! If you pick well, how does that not beat any so-called military connections!"

This speech was Wu Xiang's very foundation for survival in Liaodong — it could be called the Wu family's supreme martial art.

Although this supreme martial art had yet to find many opportunities for Wu Xiang to put it into practice...

Wu Sangui, however, seemed to let it go in one ear and out the other.

He even had the leisure to fish a frozen pear from the fruit tray, take a bite, and say indistinctly:

"Old man, you've missed one — there are also the supervising eunuchs."

"Getting on good terms with the eunuchs and finding a good godfather is pretty important too."

Wu Xiang could hardly miss the dismissiveness in these words.

He had talked for ages and felt as if he were playing a lute to a cow; at once, he dropped all pretense of the refined commander.

Wu Xiang shed his dignity and simply let loose with all the filthy barracks curses:

"Don't you get clever with me! You think your old man doesn't know he needs to cozy up to the eunuchs?"

"Eunuchs this, eunuchs that, goddamn it — why don't you follow the example of Regional Commander Liu's son, have some strange dream, and enter the palace to have it cut off and be done with it!"

"He's now one of the three titans of the Directorate of Ceremonial under Eunuch Gao, living in glory and ease wherever he goes!" "When the time comes, your old man and your elder brother Wu Sanfeng will have to beg for your protection!"

He raged and cursed, spittle flying everywhere.

But seeing Wu Sangui still wearing that cheeky, shameless grin, he instantly deflated like a punctured ball.

"Goddamn it... if you had the makings for the civil examinations, I'd sell the pots and pans to hire you a famous teacher."

"If you really passed the jinshi, why would we be fretting here over which side to pick!"

"Every jinshi who comes to Liaodong is a faction unto himself!"

Wu Sangui rolled his eyes dramatically, finished the frozen pear in a few bites, and casually tossed the pit onto the table.

"Oh, give it a rest — it's the New Year, let's not talk about such dismal things."

"Where in Liaodong would you find any real scholarly talent? After all these years, the place has barely managed to produce four jinshi."

"And what came of it? One convicted of corruption and fined, one's entire family branded a rebel clan, one framed as a spy."

"Now there's only one left, a Vice Bureau Director in the Ministry of War, still in one piece…"

"The way I see it, this damned civil-official path carries far greater risk than the military one."

Wu Xiang saw the conversation veering inexplicably off course and grew frantic:

"That's different! Now a sage sovereign rules the court — once you join the ranks of the White Crows and do solid work, what's there to fear!"

"Haven't you seen the newspapers? Men like Qi Xinxiao and Li Shiqi — the impeachment memorials accusing them of cruelty and harshness could be used for kindling, yet nothing's happened to them!"

"How can this Yongchang reign be compared to the past?"

Before the words had faded, a crisp slap rang out.

Wu Sangui smacked his thigh hard and sprang straight up from the stool, shouting:

"Exactly right, Father!"

"A sage sovereign rules the court! No need to overthink — just walk the righteous path and do righteous deeds!"

"Rank won on horseback must be seized on horseback!"

The youth, brimming with fervor, stood in the center of the room and poured out his heart.

"With my skill in riding and archery, how could no one take notice!"

"Why burden myself with so many worries?"

"Once spring comes this year, I'll go to the capital for the examinations. I'll surely see my name on the golden roster and take the Zhuangyuan title in the military exams!"

"When the laurel banquet summons me, I'll lay out a grand strategy for His Majesty's Liaodong campaign!"

"First, audit the payrolls and drill the troops! Then build up strength for three years, and finally sweep their lairs clean! Cut down the barbarian chieftain beneath my horse! Exterminate the Jurchen clan in the turn of a hand!" "Just like that, casually, easily, I'll rack up a hundred reds, two hundred reds! Then I'll be enfeoffed as marquis and appointed chancellor, bringing glory to the ancestors!" Wu Sangui grew more and more impassioned, his face practically glowing, as if the marquis's seal already hung at his waist.

At last, he leaped into the open space and launched into a vigorous set of boxing moves.

His fists stirred the air, whipping up a gust of wind.

Finally, he drew in his fists and stood straight, one hand clasped behind his back, the other raised toward the heavens — striking an exceedingly dashing pose.

"As the saying goes…"

"Lifting the Jade Dragon, dying for one's lord."

He drew the words out long, brimming with bravado.

But then —

"Huh?"

Wu Sangui froze in place, right hand still raised high.

Wasn't there supposed to be a second half to that line? Why did it feel so off?

Watching this monkey capering about like a clown on the opera stage, Wu Xiang felt the last shred of fatherly patience snap cleanly. His face darkened. Without a word, he rose silently, raised his foot, and delivered a vicious kick.

Though Wu Sangui was still racking his brains over that damned second half of the poem, his body's instinctive reaction was startlingly fast.

He twisted his waist, dodged aside, and reflexively parried outward with his right hand.

"Thud!"

The parry, damn it all, even carried a bit of spiraling force.

Caught off guard, Wu Xiang was shoved off balance and nearly went sprawling face-first into the dirt.

"Heh heh! Father! Resorting to violence when words fail — hardly the conduct of a gentleman!"

Wu Sangui jumped two steps back, still running his fool mouth.

Wu Xiang steadied himself, drew a deep breath, and felt a surge of hot blood rush straight to his crown.

His tiger-like eyes swept the room, and at last his gaze locked onto the space behind the door.

There, hanging quietly, was a broom, half its bristles long since gone.

The long-absent supreme artifact of Wu family discipline!

Wu Xiang lunged forward, snatched up the broom, and muscle memory surged through him.

"I'll give you 'Lifting the Jade Dragon'! Take your dragon! Take your dragon, dragon, dragon!"

With a roar, Wu Xiang swung the broom in a blur, raining blows down on Wu Sangui's head and face.

The move flowed as smoothly as drifting clouds and flowing water. He opened with "Cleaving Mount Hua," followed immediately by "Sweeping a Thousand Troops," then an unbroken torrent of "Storm of Pear Blossoms."

The room filled with swirling dust and overlapping broom-shadows.

Worn as it was, the broom seemed to come alive in Wu Xiang's hands.

At times it darted like a serpent from its lair — cunning and vicious; at times it pressed down like Mount Tai — ponderous and crushing.

"Waah! Father, you're fighting for real!"

Wu Sangui yelped and fled, clutching his head.

As the old saying goes: an inch longer, an inch stronger; an inch shorter, an inch deadlier.

That old saying is for fooling amateurs.

In a fight, unless you can't swing it, you take the longest weapon you can get.

Long is good, long is great, long is beautiful!

No matter how formidable Wu Sangui's bare-handed skills were, against this supreme artifact with two extra feet of reach, he was utterly helpless.

What's more, this was his own father — how could he dare to actually strike back?

Wu Xiang, in his prime, had boundless stamina and a deep grasp of military tactics.

He didn't bother chasing Wu Sangui at all. Instead, he seized the doorway — that "contested ground every commander must hold" — and executed a textbook "Shut the Door and Beat the Dog." In moments, the room descended into chaos, filled with squawking and wailing.

"I was wrong! I was wrong!"

"Stop hitting me! You'll kill me!"

Wu Xiang finished his wild flurry of broom sweeps, and only then did he feel the pent-up frustration in his chest ease considerably.

Leaning on the broom — now stripped of two-thirds of its twigs and leaves — he gasped a rough breath and barked:

"Kneel!"

Wu Sangui had been beaten until he grimaced and bared his teeth, his brocade robe lashed with several gray streaks. No longer daring to slouch, he obediently dropped to his knees with a thud.

"What did you do wrong?" Wu Xiang demanded, looking down from on high.

Wu Sangui's head was still buzzing from the beating; he had long forgotten what they had just been talking about.

He thought for a long while, then ventured tentatively:

"Was it... that I ought to take the civil examinations, and become a civil official?"

A surge of breath caught in Wu Xiang's chest, nearly choking him.

He raised the broom to strike again, but stopped it mid-air.

Looking at his son — that face, stupid yet somehow still holding a glint of cleverness — he sighed helplessly and slowly lowered his hand.

Martial prowess, full marks. Politics, zero.

What can one do? What can one do!

The Wu family has been in trade for generations — how did they produce a specimen like this!

"Enough!"

Wu Xiang waved his hand, his face full of weary desolation.

"Get back to your books!"

"If you fail to pass the military jinshi this year, watch your hide!"

Wu Sangui stole a glance at the doorway, cautiously got to his feet, and shuffled a couple of steps.

"So I'll be going, then?"

"GET OUT!!"

Wu Sangui edged to the door of the room. Seeing that Wu Xiang still made no move, he suddenly lunged out in one great stride, like a bird loosed from its cage. He had not yet run far when his voice came drifting back:

"Ha ha ha ha! Say what you will, old man! This young master's honors — I'll still take them from horseback!"

Before his words had faded, he had vanished without a trace.

Only a moment passed.

Wu Xiang heard another burst of clamor from beyond the courtyard.

He rushed out the door to look, and what did he see? That thieving monkey — where was he off to study his books?

He was clearly wearing a saber and carrying a bow, gathering a few companions, whooping and hollering as they prepared to ride out of the fort again.

"His grandmother's! How did I sire such a monkey!"

Wu Xiang stood cursing in the cold wind for a moment, until he simply had no more anger left.

Ever since this boy had come into his wits, he had been this lawless and unrestrained.

Though he did not bully the market or tyrannize the streets, he was a genuine little overlord in temperament, having learned not a shred of the Confucian-gentleman manner the Wu family had painstakingly cultivated. He shook his head, sighed, wrapped his fur-lined coat tighter, and went back inside.

Sitting down in his chair, looking at the broom leaves and twigs scattered across the floor, Wu Xiang felt as though his own hair was about to fall out just as completely.

This New Deal for Ji and Liao — what exactly is new about it?

This so-called Pay-Audit Squad — how exactly are they going to audit?

The Supreme Commander Sun has been here for months, holding the troops back, only repairing walls and building forts, not adjusting a single personnel matter.

This is simply unreasonable! A new official has been in post for four months and hasn't lit a single fire! And now the Emperor has sent Governor Yuan, with whom he has conflicts, here as well.

Isn't this just another version of the Commissioner-Governor strife?

Will the feuding of Xiong Tingbi and Wang Huazhen replay itself? How will the situation in Liaodong shift?

On whose head will the new sovereign's first blade fall?

Caught in this tangled web, how should the Zu family and his own Wu family protect themselves?

Even if self-preservation is assured, how exactly can they seize the greatest advantage?

Wu Xiang the clever man was far too clever — the questions he pondered were truly too many...

Yet to these very questions, he had not a single answer.

Let us turn to Wu Sangui, who had gathered his companions, left the camp-fort of Ningyuan, and was galloping at full speed along the line of the Great Wall.

Hoofbeats crushed the accumulated snow, splashing up shards of ice.

Along the way, they casually shot two dull-witted birds, one foolish roe deer, and one unlucky badger.

As for the Mongol herders slipping across the border whom they were seriously searching for — they did not catch so much as half a ghost's shadow.

Well, of course — in the dead of winter, the winter wheat in the fields had not yet grown, the camp-forts were cold, and the residents were all huddled together in their own groups.

Coming in to pilfer and poach at this season, you couldn't even snatch a single hair — it was truly a losing business.

Wu Sangui rode for a while; buffeted by the cold wind, the stifled frustration of being under his father's thumb was instantly vented and swept clean away.

He reined in his horse and halted atop a high slope.

Gazing out at the vast, indistinct world in the distance, a thought suddenly leaped into his mind.

The imperial envoy is arriving in another two days...

Doesn't that mean he's likely near Lulong right about now?

Then why doesn't this young master follow the official road and go have a look in advance?

See exactly how many ears and how many noses this "imperial envoy" has?

Is he as good a fighter as that Commissioner Li in the Tales of Liaohai Loyalty?

Once this notion stirred, curiosity, like a cat's paw, scratched and clawed at his heart, utterly unbearable.

Only — how exactly was he to find an excuse?

If he said outright they were going to see an imperial commissioner, these companions would probably not dare follow — they might even run off to report to his old man.

He wheeled his horse in place twice, then suddenly his eyes lit up and he slapped his thigh:

"Lads! Follow your chief into the pass for a bit of fun!"

The companions stared blankly at one another. "Into the pass?"

"Right! We'll go take a look inside Shanhai Pass."

Wu Sangui declared with righteous confidence:

"At this time of year, the pass is thick with merchants and travelers, bustling beyond compare. Wouldn't a jaunt inside beat sitting around bored stiff in this fort?"

"Besides, we can pick up some New Year's goods along the way. Prices there are bound to be cheaper than outside the pass."

At these words, the companions all felt a stir of temptation.

Prices outside the pass, though years of military farmland reclamation had gradually brought them back down to a tolerable level —

yet inside and outside the pass, after all, a wall stands between them. How could things ever be exactly the same?

Once goods crossed Shanhai Pass, with all the transport costs and the various "tribute" fees added on, prices were fated to be a notch higher.

Wu Sangui did not wait for them to think it through. He launched straight into coaxing and cajoling:

"Come on, come on — your young master has money on him. Once we're inside, I'll lend you some to spend! You can pay me back later, slowly!"

With that, he took the lead, clamped his legs to the horse's flanks, gave a sharp whistle, and galloped off toward Shanhai Pass.

Heh heh — once you lot are inside the pass, your young master will naturally have ways to trick you into coming with me to see the Son of Heaven's own imperial guard!

This is precisely the common tactic of those western barbarians and the Jianzhou barbarians!

Mass the troops for a hunt, feint left and thrust right — then once the troops are assembled in good order, suddenly pick a weak point, breach the wall, and raid!

Your young master here has truly mastered the art of war! Ha ha ha ha!

The companions had not yet untangled the twists and turns of this reasoning, but seeing their leader already far off, they could only helplessly spur their horses and follow.

"Second Master! Wait for us!"

Seven or eight riders churned up a trail of dust, sweeping like a whirlwind toward the west.

On a branch in the woods, a black crow cocked its head, watching this pack of strange, frantic six-legged beasts.

After observing a moment, it seemed to find nothing remarkable about them.

"Caw!"

A harsh, mournful cry tore across the sky.

The crow flapped its wings and flew off as well.

The woods returned to silence.

Only the gleaming white snow remained, mantling the hilltops.