Chapter 345: Going Home

During the Qingming season, Guangzhou’s weather was unusually erratic, swinging wildly between spring, summer, autumn, and winter.

In the morning, the wind bit like ice; by midday, the sun blazed overhead.

The capricious weather tormented the officials waiting at the city gate.

They had all come dressed in winter robes, and now each one sweated profusely.

No matter how hot, they had to endure it—under the eyes of all, officials must maintain their dignity.

“Your Excellency, the triumphant troops won’t arrive for a while longer; why not rest behind for now?”

“We’ll send someone to notify you as soon as they arrive.”

Seeing the palanquin of Marquis of Wayang lower, Prefect Lü Junyou stepped forward to urge him.

Today was the day the Two Guang armies returned from the front; to show due reverence, all officials had arrived early at the city gate.

As the highest military and civil authority in Two Guang, Marquis of Wayang would naturally make the final appearance.

He had changed into summer attire before departure, creating a stark contrast with the officials bundled in cotton robes.

“No need!”

“The triumphant army is not far; I estimate they’ll arrive within the time of one incense stick.”

Marquis of Wayang shook his head in refusal.

This high-profile welcome ceremony had been entirely his own doing.

He staged such a spectacle not only to greet the returning troops but also to pacify public sentiment.

The White Lotus rebels had caused too great an upheaval, severely undermining the foundations of Great Yu's rule.

Though the Two Guang regions had been reclaimed by the court, rebel remnants still lingered among the people.

Some hid in villages, lying low; others retreated into remote mountains, becoming bandits—all unstable elements.

Relying solely on military force to root them out would take far more than a day or two.

The best approach was to win their hearts.

By demonstrating the strength of the imperial army in action, shatter their unrealistic fantasies, and only then could local stability be achieved.

It would also serve to warn the gentry and maritime merchants of the Two Guang regions: the empire belongs to Great Yu, not to them to flaunt.

Time flew, and after one incense stick had burned, the earth suddenly trembled.

A fierce army, marching in perfect unison, appeared in the officials’ line of sight.

Riding a towering steed at the head of the column, Li Mu raised his hand as they reached the city gate and ordered:

“Halt!”

The vast procession came to an instant stop, their flawless synchronization leaving the officials awestruck.

Anyone could see at a glance: this was an elite army of the age.

“Your Excellency, I have not disgraced your trust!”

After dismounting, Li Mu bowed deeply to Marquis of Wayang.

“Marquis of Hanshui, you shattered the bandits in Huguang and raised the prestige of our Two Guang armies—no need for such formalities.”

Marquis of Wayang returned the bow.

Soon, the two fell into nostalgic conversation, ignoring all other officials.

This scene left the civil officials deeply uncomfortable.

Yet though they resented it, they had no choice but to swallow their anger.

As marquises of Great Yu, their status surpassed everyone present.

In this rigid feudal hierarchy, their conduct was entirely proper.

Clever men understood: this was mutual posturing, an attempt to overshadow the rest.

The reason was simple: the powers of the Viceroy and local officials overlapped heavily.

After the Two Guang region stabilized, civil officials had begun to participate in local governance.

Provincial Governors, Administration Commissioners, and Surveillance Commissioners had gained considerable power, somewhat eroding the Viceroy’s authority.

These power grabs occurred within the rules of political games.

The authority of local officials was clearly defined in Great Yu's laws; the Marquis of Wayang could not legally block them from performing their duties.

Yet the Viceroy’s status still remained superior.

Unable to prevent officials from exercising their powers didn’t mean he couldn’t make their lives difficult.

This spectacle was a warning.

As they exchanged pleasantries while walking into the city, the civil officials’ scalps prickled.

They knew the officials wore thick cotton robes, yet insisted on this forced march—clearly hoping to humiliate them.

The two elders strode ahead; the officials had no choice but to follow, gritting their teeth.

“Your Excellency, Minister Duan has fainted.”

The news from his personal guard forced Marquis of Wayang to suppress his smile.

“Minister Duan is advanced in years, yet still serves the court diligently—now he has collapsed! This shows my neglect as Viceroy toward my subordinates!

Immediately arrange medical care for Minister Duan; his health must not be harmed.

From now on, let others in the yamen shoulder more duties; don’t keep troubling Minister Duan.”

These words sounded caring, yet each cut like a blade.

Minister Duan, who had fainted, was barely forty—not remotely “advanced in years.”

In officialdom, such a remark meant the end of his career.

The phrase “don’t trouble Minister Duan” was a direct seizure of his authority.

For officials, it was not the weight of duty they feared, but having nothing to do.

Marquis of Wayang’s words left no doubt: he was telling this “Minister Duan” to resign and retire.

With the first victim fallen, officials who had considered faking fainting to escape the march instantly abandoned the idea.

Watching Marquis of Wayang’s skillful display of intimidation, Li Mu realized his old superior was no longer the lazy commander of the Five City Garrison he once was.

Indeed, officialdom forged men.

…

Viceroy’s Mansion.

“Your Excellency, it seems while I was away, some have grown restless?”

Li Mu sipped his tea and asked with a smile.

Events in Two Guang naturally did not escape his notice.

Yet the same words carried different meanings depending on who spoke them.

“You’ve noticed.”

“Correct. Those civil officials think the war is over and that I, the Viceroy, am redundant.

They’ve been secretly colluding, plotting to drive me out.”

Marquis of Wayang sneered without restraint.

Power struggles were always brutal.

With me as Viceroy overseeing them, every official felt constrained.

The notion that civil officials were superior and military men inferior had seeped into many bones over the past century.

With the noble military clans returning to power, many felt uneasy.

The civil officials’ attempt to unite and oust Marquis of Wayang was merely standard political maneuvering.

“Since they’re so active, give them more difficult administrative tasks.

Especially in newly reclaimed regions—where officials are scarce—send them there.”

Li Mu offered a ruthless suggestion without blinking.

Marquis of Wayang, holding both the Two Guang and Jiangnan Viceroyalties, had authority to reassign officials under his command under the guise of temporary transfer.

Behind the lines, political rules applied; on the front, only the strong survived.

Rebel remnants didn’t care how noble an official’s title was.

If they had a chance to strike a high-ranking official, they’d be even more eager.

A few unlucky deaths would teach everyone to behave.

“The conditions aren’t ripe.”

Holding both Viceroy positions already makes me a glaring target in court.

Censors constantly accuse me of monopolizing power and acting arrogantly; if officials under my command start dying mysteriously, I’ll have no defense left!

Besides, I won’t hold this Viceroy post much longer—let them fumble around as they please.

By the way, why did you return from the front so quickly? Aren’t you planning to advance south from Huguang?”

Hearing this, Li Mu instantly understood.

No wonder the civil officials dared stir up trouble—it was intentional.

This discord between superior and subordinate was precisely what the Emperor and court officials most desired.

With Marquis of Wayang wielding such immense power, if he and his subordinates were united, no one would sleep soundly.

“Your Excellency, if you’re avoiding suspicion, I must follow suit.

After the Wei rebels were crushed, the court holds absolute advantage; Fu’s rebellion stands alone and will fall soon enough.

My uncle wrote to you: our Li family will claim no further war merits.

Since the Annamese are restless, I might as well return to Two Guang to hold the line.”

Li Mu answered calmly.

In the founding era, a family with two marquises was nothing unusual; during the conquest of the realm, the emperor never hesitated to bestow rewards.

But as time passed, most of those illustrious founding dukes and marquises had declined.

Today’s most prominent families, the Jing and Li, couldn’t even make the top three in the early founding years.

In the past century, newly created marquises have been few and far between.

Now, a family with two marquises is the most conspicuous presence.

“Hmm!

You’re still young; stepping back now brings only benefits and no harm.

But campaigning against Annan still requires careful deliberation.

In recent days, I’ve gathered intelligence on the enemy: the Hu family of Annan has ruled for generations and is deeply entrenched.

A few years ago, they carried out a bloody purge, eliminating lingering threats.

Their national strength is at its peak, with hundreds of thousands of troops—very hard to confront.

To risk an expedition for land long lost is not worth it!”

Marquis Wuyang advised tactfully.

The more information he gathered, the more he felt the southern campaign would be difficult.

Without support from the court, relying solely on their own resources to push the southern campaign would yield returns disproportionate to the risks.

“There’s no choice: once the great war ends, we’ll be recalled to the capital.

Court politics are more dangerous than the battlefield; against those old foxes among the civil officials, I’m no match.

One slip, and I’ll fall into the enemy’s trap.

The best option is to stay on the frontier, slowly build seniority, and gradually fade from influence.”

Li Mu feigned grievance.

When the birds are gone, the bow is put away; when the rabbits are dead, the hunting dogs are cooked.

These historical lessons hang like sharp blades over every military general’s head.

Even Marquis Wuyang himself feared that his achievements might overshadow the emperor.

The resurgence of the meritocratic nobility has encroached on the civil officials’ interests; their falling out is merely a matter of time.

In terms of actual power, the meritocratic nobility is not weak, but to suppress the civil officials, they must gain the emperor’s support.

The problem is Emperor Yongning is easily swayed.

In political tactics, the meritocratic nobility as a whole still falls far short.

From the start, the major leaders never imagined they could dominate the court and suppress the civil officials.

At best, they could use their great victory to preserve the spoils they seized from the civil officials.

To achieve their goal, they must strengthen control over military power and retain the ability to overturn the table.

“Enough!

Since you've made your choice, I won't try to dissuade you anymore.

To those old lords in the capital, the Two Guangs are still the old Lingnan; staying here is a decent choice.

But securing the position of Viceroy of the Two Guangs is nearly impossible.

If you can conquer Annan and become Viceroy of Jiaozhi, that would be feasible.

Doing so is extremely difficult—and once you take that step, turning back becomes even harder!”

Marquis Wuyang said slowly.

Competition exists between the meritocratic nobility and the civil officials, and within the nobility itself, there are also competing interests.

If Li Mu returns to the court, he becomes the natural next-generation leader of the meritocratic nobility.

He doesn’t even need to campaign; the noble youths who fought alongside him will push him forward.

The next generation of other top nobles, even if they grow up later, can only trail behind him.

What’s acceptable now doesn’t mean it will be acceptable in the future.

Whether it’s Duke of Cheng, Marquis Wuyang, or Marquis Zhenyuan, all have sons.

Top-tier power resources are limited; if someone takes more, others get less.

If Li Mu doesn’t enter the central government, everyone can take a larger share of the cake.

Whether they can hold onto it is another matter entirely.

“No matter how great the risk, it’s better than being trapped in the capital.

I rose through battlefield merit, earned my current status—but battlefield merit is also my greatest weakness.

Given the civil officials’ nature, they’ll eventually coax the emperor into sending me to lead the Liaodong campaign.

Liaodong has effectively become a semi-independent fiefdom; no matter who they send, they can’t command the troops.

Rather than be forced into the pit, I’d rather jump out first.

Even if Annan’s conditions are terrible, at least I can live comfortably there.”

Li Mu’s explanation left Marquis Wuyang drenched in cold sweat.

If the civil officials could send Li Mu to fill the pit, they wouldn’t spare him either.

As one of the only two military merit marquises in decades, he too was plastered with the label of a famed general.

If his nephew lost his head and believed the civil officials’ lies, he’d be doomed.

The more troubling point is that Li Mu can retreat—he’s young, and while he’s earned great merit, others still shield him.

He, this illustrious Viceroy of Four Provinces, has always stood at the very front.

“Looks like after the war, I’ll have to fall ill too!”

Marquis Wuyang grumbled.

“Your situation is different; just maintain your existing image.

While holding power, take several concubines, frequent brothels and entertainment quarters.

When idle, visit the Empress Dowager often, reminisce, and enjoy life fully.”

Li Mu said with a smile.

The greatest advantage of imperial in-laws is that the emperor sees them as “family.”

Emperor Yongning is a filial son; as long as the Empress Dowager lives, no one will be foolish enough to strike at Marquis Wuyang.

Whether Marquis Wuyang can outlive the Empress Dowager, even while indulging in wine, women, and song, remains uncertain.

…

After attending the victory banquet and returning home, Li Mu was filled with deep emotion.

The wealth and honor of military men are truly hard-won.

Years spent campaigning far from home make returning feel alien.

“My Lord, you’re back!”

Looking at his wife before him, Li Mu’s many words dissolved into three:

“I’m back!”

Fortunately, this is a feudal society; in his past life, such a long absence would have left him clueless about what had happened in the inner quarters.

Seeing Li Mu was not drunk, the alert maids swiftly removed the sobering soup.

“The servants have prepared hot water; you should bathe first!”

As she spoke, Jing Yaqing pushed away Li Mu’s hand resting on her waist.

As a traditional lady of a great family, deeply influenced by Confucian culture, she couldn’t bear such intimate gestures in front of others.

(End of Chapter)