Chapter 331: Gazing at Shenzhou, the Number One Military Treatise of the Realm! (Combined)

Jiakangcheng!

Yuwen Liqian and her party.

The Korean delegation began departing from the city gate.

After Jiakangcheng, there were no waterways left—only the rumble of carts and horses.

The delegations of the four states would proceed to Yanjing, to that Yan Prince's mansion!

August sixteenth!

The Yan Prince, after a decade, would descend from Mount Zhongnan once more, heading toward the Yan Prince's mansion, built ten years ago but never yet welcomed by its true master.

Six carriages slowly passed through the city gate.

Yuwen Liqian pushed open the carriage window; behind her, Su Beihai and others were seeing her off.

After four days of stay, her emotions were complex!

She grew increasingly eager to meet this Yan Prince.

Traveling with them was also the Great Chu delegation, accompanied by students from the White Deer Academy—mostly renowned scholars of the realm.

Some Korean students deliberately avoided them; the most revered sacred ground for scholars across the land was undoubtedly the "White Deer Academy."

Graduates of the White Deer Academy naturally considered themselves the true orthodoxy.

A few Korean students attempted to approach them, but were mostly met with silent indifference.

Scholars look down on each other—it has always been so.

Of course, there were exceptions!

For instance, Zhao Wenxian of Korea had many Great Chu students coming to befriend him.

Zhao Wenxian was merely a failed licentiate in Korea, with no reputation to speak of.

His inclusion in the Korean delegation was unwelcome among students; yet within a single day,

this middle-aged, shabby-looking licentiate had gained such popularity in Great Chu!

The students began addressing him as "Brother Wenxian."

Yuwen Liqian was somewhat surprised—this obscure, unremarkable-looking Zhao Wenxian possessed such renown.

Upon inquiry, she learned:

Zhao Wenxian had co-authored the military treatise "Wu Zi" with the Great Chu general Wu Chengfeng, and it was widely circulated in Great Chu.

He was also a highly respected lecturer at the White Deer Academy, but later left under mysterious circumstances and returned to his homeland, Korea.

Wu Chengfeng was a famed general of Great Chu, a graduate of the White Deer Academy; the two shared a bond of master and friend.

The world knew Wu Chengfeng—but not Zhao Wenxian!

Yuwen Liqian noted his name, planning to recommend him to her father upon returning home.

Talents are rare; she could not bear to let him remain obscure.

The Great Chu and Korean delegations moved slowly forward.

With official credentials, they traveled unimpeded through Yan territory.

That day,

they were only a hundred li from Yanjing.

It was the final city before Yanjing.

It had once been called "Bianluo."

Twenty-six years ago, when the future Yan Prince was still the Junior Protector, he resigned from office to pursue the Dao and passed through this city while descending south from Hulao Pass, intending to remain low-key.

He saw a child fall into a well and leapt in wearing a straw hat to rescue him—his identity was revealed.

People from all around gathered in Bianluo.

The scene was grand; crowds lined the city walls, gazing as two horses emerged from Liangzhou.

Later, the city's name was changed to "Wangshenzhou!"

Beyond Wangshenzhou lay Yanjing.

Yuwen Liqian gently pushed open the carriage window, her gaze falling upon this majestic city.

Compared to Jiakangcheng, Wangshenzhou appeared even more imposing and magnificent.

Northern cities generally had tall, heavily fortified walls.

Yuwen Liqian guessed this might be due to the constant warfare to the north.

The north was a land of weapons!

Before the city stood a river, named: Liuqing River.

It wound its way gently!

At its widest point, it was seven or eight zhang across, flowing onward to the famed strategic pass—Hulao Pass.

Fed by the river, the banks were shaded by lush green trees.

Along both shores, elegant pavilions were arranged in orderly fashion, offering resting places for travelers.

Several old men sat leisurely in the pavilions, fishing rods in hand, patiently waiting for fish to bite—their calm contentment stirred envy.

The surrounding scenery was even more pleasant!

It was truly peaceful, tranquil.

The six carriages slowly halted beside the pavilion at the bridge.

The nearby fishermen glanced over briefly, then returned to their fishing.

Merchants and travelers passing through Wangshenzhou were numerous.

Since leaving Jiakangcheng, the two delegations had endured constant bumpy travel with little rest.

The draft horses were exhausted, drenched in sweat, some collapsed outright on the ground!

They had pressed on without pause, even missing the relay stations to save time.

It was now noon; the great city lay before them.

A brief rest would do no harm.

After the carriages stopped, the coachmen fetched cool water from the river and poured it tenderly over the collapsed horses.

The large brown horses panted heavily!

The students disembarked but paid no attention to the horses.

Instead, they turned toward the pavilion by the riverbank, its elegant furnishings and the fishermen within drawing their gaze.

A breeze blew through, refreshingly cool!

Scholars and poets all loved such scenes—they eagerly came to gather inspiration.

Only!

Zhao Wenxian, alongside the coachman, carried water and poured it over the horses' manes, rolled up his sleeves, and skillfully patted their necks to cool them.

Yuwen Liqian also stepped gracefully from the carriage.

Her maid hurried forward and said: "Princess, shall we go to the pavilion?"

The Great Chu delegation had disembarked early and claimed most of the nearest pavilion.

As if hearing the maid's voice, Yuwen Ji within the pavilion glanced over in this direction.

The Korean scholars, however, felt uneasy and avoided the Chu students, heading instead to another pavilion, deliberately keeping their distance.

It was clearly divided.

Just as the newcomers stepped down from their carriages, their eyes were drawn forward—they saw a naturally flattened stretch of land in the river current.

It resembled a small island rising from the water.

Upon it stood pavilions and buildings arranged in elegant disorder, occupying considerable space, with a unique charm.

A bridge led to it!

This unexpected discovery instantly sparked curiosity; everyone called out to companions and headed toward the island-like flatland.

Yuwen Liqian did not move. Behind her, an elder approached—it was Du Hui.

Du Hui smiled: "Princess, would you care to take a walk with this old man?"

Yuwen Liqian naturally did not refuse.

Du Hui then walked toward Zhao Wenxian, still carrying water, and said:

"Wenxian, put down your task for a moment and chat with this old man."

The middle-aged scholar, bucket in hand, bowed formally:

"Master Du, it has been a long time."

Zhao Wenxian smiled: "Then I shall not refuse your kindness!"

He was slender and somewhat gaunt, dressed in a pristine white scholar's robe, his features ordinary, his eyes calm and detached.

"Zhao Wenxian, pays his respects to the Princess."

As a licentiate, he was not required to bow—but he offered a respectful salute.

"Mr. Zhao, no need for such formalities!"

Yuwen Liqian replied softly; her voice was gentle, lacking the usual imperial haughtiness.

"Master, why did you not introduce me to him earlier? You let Mr. Zhao languish in obscurity in Korea for so many years."

She had not expected her own master, Du Hui, to know Zhao Wenxian.

Du Hui chuckled: "I can barely save myself—how could I concern myself with others?"

"But Wenxian truly possesses great talent; when he left the White Deer Academy, it caused quite a stir!"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Wenxian quickly waved his hand: "Master Du, you overstate things—those are all past matters."

Yuwen Liqian's face showed a hint of surprise; she realized Zhao Wenxian might have had an extraordinary background in Da Chu.

She knew her master Du Hui was strict by nature and rarely praised others.

Back then, at graduation, countless students had longed for even a single word of praise from him.

Yuwen Liqian had barely earned one:

"A pity you're a woman!"

And that was the end of it!

Yuwen Liqian had been quite angry at the time, but thinking that none of her senior students had even gotten a word, she felt somewhat comforted.

Now, this middle-aged Confucian scholar had been called "a great talent" by her master.

The four walked slowly toward the "island" in the river.

The whereabouts of Yuwen Liqian, Du Hui, Zhao Wenxian, and the attendant drew the attention of Gongsun Ji, the Chu envoy in the pavilion, who seemed to ponder before slowly looking away.

Though their statuses differed, they interacted with ease.

Yuwen Liqian did not act like a princess, and Zhao Wenxian was not stiff or reserved.

They entered the center of the river island!

Ahead stood a stone stele recording the date of its construction.

The four gave it no more than a glance.

Several Han Chu students were already examining the surroundings; most bowed upon seeing Yuwen Liqian.

Yet no one joined their group.

A princess of a nation was a true magnate in Han—no one dared to intrude.

As the four advanced deeper into the island's center, a stone statue gradually came into view.

The statue, carved from white stone, stood human-height, carefully enclosed by a railing, exuding solemnity and mystery.

The figure wore a Daoist robe, standing naturally, holding a scroll in hand, its face youthful, eyes gazing northward.

Yuwen Liqian recognized the person carved in the statue at once.

Prince of Yan, Lu Chen.

Yuwen Liqian stared at the statue, emotions churning within her.

She noticed that though the statue resembled the portraits in the Qingbang, the scroll in its hand was different.

The statue held a scroll inscribed with "Records of Military Training," not "Governance of Zhibei."

Beside the statue stood another stele, its surface blank, bearing no inscription.

A wordless stele!

The island was kept unnaturally clean, with few fallen leaves, showing deep reverence and awe.

Yet strangely, there seemed to be no guards.

Du Hui spoke:

"The old fishermen around here number over a hundred; their clothing suggests commoner origins—they don't till land, yet spend their days fishing for pleasure!"

Zhao Wenxian nodded after hearing this:

"Yan is richer than I imagined."

Zhao Wenxian touched the railing before him:

"This statue was likely built spontaneously by the people."

The attendant, however, doubted:

"Could it not be that the Prefect of this great city built it to flatter Prince Yan?"

Du Hui chuckled upon hearing this:

"Then was the name of this city in Wangshenzhou changed to flatter Lu Chen, the man who had already resigned from office?"

The attendant had no reply.

To rename a city for a former official seemed implausible.

The attendant was baffled by Yan's customs and resentful toward Prince Yan.

In her view, as a princess's attendant, she should be respected in every nation—but in Yan, she felt treated differently.

Especially after learning that most women in Yan considered being an attendant shameful and could read and write—this made her dislike Prince Yan even more.

Even keeping an attendant required registration with local authorities; killing or mistreating one was a grave crime.

She didn't understand why.

Though these rules were good, after seeing them, she felt as if she were being looked down upon.

She was the princess's attendant—her status was vastly different from these lowly Yan commoners.

She expected envious glances, yet among the people of Jiakangcheng, she saw only "pity."

Anger surged within her!

Shouldn't it be you who deserves pity?

The root of all this was Prince Yan of Mount Zhongnan—his edicts were utterly foolish and absurd.

The attendant stared at the scroll in Lu Chen's hand on the statue and muttered disdainfully:

"Even if the people built it, it's clearly shoddy—they even got the title wrong! 'Records of Military Training'? I've never heard of it!"

Her tone dripped with contempt.

Zhao Wenxian couldn't help but correct her:

"Miss, that's incorrect."

"That book isn't trash—it's the greatest military treatise in the world!"

His tone carried seriousness.

The attendant froze—she had never heard of this book.

She wanted to argue, but saw the Confucian scholar's firm gaze—the same man who had just caught the princess's attention.

Yuwen Liqian herself only half-understood; her studies at Bai Lu Academy focused on rites, music, archery, mathematics, and current affairs—she had little exposure to military texts.

She wondered silently: Could this book be connected to Prince Yan?

"Could Master Zhao please explain?"

"What is the origin of this book?"

Du Hui stroked his beard and said:

"Princess, you may not know, but Zhao Wenxian's mastery of military strategy is extraordinary."

"When he taught military tactics at Bai Lu Academy, he was immensely popular—every lecture was packed, with crowds spilling outside the classroom."

"Even Wu Chengfeng, the famed general of Da Chu, was once his student."

Yuwen Liqian's eyes widened!

Everyone had heard of Wu Chengfeng of Da Chu—one of the greatest generals in the land, known as the White Robe War God.

He had commanded armies in Da Chu's wars against Han and Qianyuan, repeatedly defeating larger forces.

A rare Confucian general, widely praised by scholars.

She never imagined he had been this man's student.

She now regarded him with greater respect.

Zhao Wenxian's face showed no pride: "The 'Records of Military Training' was written by Prince Yan during his time in the Lu family army."

"The book is divided into nine volumes of core text and six volumes of supplementary material, meticulously documenting troop selection, unit organization, and morale-building."

"It details everything: how to form an army, how to train it, and how to devise battle strategies."

"When I finished reading it, the Lu army was still fighting the Beifeng—I was certain Tuoba Shu's defeat was inevitable."

The Lu army's war against the Beifeng had been spoken of as miraculous.

Eight thousand defeating one hundred thousand—

Such tales had become "folklore," unverifiable.

Yuwen Liqian asked:

"Why?"

Zhao Wenxian replied with admiration: "I cannot imagine anyone in the world who could have written this book."

An unexpected answer.

Yuwen Liqian suddenly had a thought and asked gently:

"In your view, Master Zhao, if Han were to fight Yan, how would the battle unfold?"

At this, Du Hui also became interested.

The White Horse Alliance was about to end; across the land, turmoil loomed, war imminent.

With the White Horse Alliance ending, war might erupt across the realm.

Zhao Wenxian fell silent, his gaze drifting over the silent statue.

He nodded slightly, then shook his head, finally sighing deeply—without uttering a word.

The attendant grew impatient and declared smugly:

"Han will surely win. Our state is powerful, our people prosperous—we have eight hundred thousand troops ready for battle. Why fear Yan? Even Qianyuan holds no terror."

Zhao Wenxian seemed not to hear, offering no reply.

His gaze dimmed; suddenly, he turned and walked away without farewell.

Yuwen Liqian watched Zhao Wenxian's departing figure, filled with confusion.

His sudden departure!

Du Hui gently comforted him:

"Li Qian, don't blame him. He has his own reasons."

His address to Yu Wen Li Qian had subtly grown warmer.

Du Hui said: "There is another secret here, known to very few!"

Du Hui recounted slowly:

"In the past, Yang Wenxian wished to leave Bai Lu Academy and return to Han, but faced heavy obstruction. Especially Wu Chengfeng, who had become a General, submitted a memorial praising his talent."

"One man can match a hundred thousand elite troops. If he returns to Han, he will surely plant endless dangers for Chu."

"In the end, they forced him to swear that upon returning home, he would never speak again or offer a single strategy—only after Bai Lu Academy guaranteed this did they allow him to return to Han."

(End of Chapter)