Chapter 230: Enough

At the end of October 1950 in Gongde Forest, the autumn atmosphere had become so thick it seemed impossible to dissolve.

Most of the phoenix tree leaves in the courtyard had fallen, the few remaining clung stubbornly to the branches, rustling loudly in the bleak autumn wind. When Li Yuxuan practiced his morning exercises, he could see his breath turn into a thin mist in the cold dawn air. He still insisted on getting up early each day to train his fists, but his movements were slower than in summer—age was unforgiving, and his sixty‑year‑old body was already sensitive to the northern chill of autumn.

That morning, after finishing his fist training and returning to his room, he heard familiar footsteps outside the door. They were not the light steps of Liu Guangzhi, but the steady tread characteristic of a soldier.

"Report, Director, Huang Wei requests an audience."

The door opened, and Huang Wei stood in the doorway.

"Come in, have a seat," Li Yuxuan wiped the fine sweat from his forehead, gestured to the chair, "So early, is there something?"

Huang Wei entered but did not sit immediately. He stood in the center of the room, his eyes scanning the map and notes spread on the desk, then turning to the hand‑drawn Korean Peninsula terrain map on the wall—Li Yuxuan had drawn it from memory, marking the latest battle situation with red and blue pencils.

"Director," Huang Wei finally spoke, his voice a little hesitant, "I heard... they want you to serve as a consultant; why didn't you go?"

Li Yuxuan's hand paused while pouring tea, then returned to its natural motion. He pushed a cup of hot tea across the table: "Sit, have tea."

Huang Wei sat down, took the cup with both hands but did not drink, simply looking at Li Yuxuan: "I've investigated this; it was Qiu Tian who personally proposed it. They say you have studied Korean terrain and U. S. military tactics, and you are a leader in military education. If you could serve as a consultant in the General Staff Department..."

"Accompany me," Li Yuxuan interrupted him, his tone even, "I cannot get involved in this matter. If it's merely to have me act as a military consultant, studying tactics and strategies, I can participate."

Huang Wei frowned: "What's wrong with this matter? Is there something improper?"

Li Yuxuan did not answer immediately. He walked to the window, gazed at the courtyard outside where fallen leaves swirled, standing with his back to Huang Wei for a long time. So long that Huang Wei thought he would never reply; then Li Yuxuan spoke slowly, his voice light yet each word clear:

"Alas, don't ask so many questions. All I can do is remind you—at the right time, through the right channels. If I were still young—forty years old, twenty years old—I could go to the front as an ordinary soldier, shoulder a rifle and fight, leaving life and death to fate. But I am already old, sixty, and I don't want to involve myself in the right‑and‑wrong of that arena."

He turned, looked at Huang Wei's puzzled face, and gave a faint bitter smile: "If I must give a reason, it's merely the Northern Xiongnu."

Huang Wei shivered, the tea cup in his hand wobbling and spilling some tea. He was a person who had read historical texts, so he knew the allusion—during Han Wudi's reign, a strategist devised a scheme that let Crown Prince Liu Ju flee; outwardly it was to avoid disaster, but in truth it was a hidden move for future positioning. The story reflects imperial cunning, political calculation, the kind of game that cannot be spoken outright, only played in the shadows of history.

"Director, you mean..." Huang Wei's voice was pressed very low.

"I have no particular meaning," Li Yuxuan said, returning to the desk and sitting down. "Accompany me, you've been in Gongde Forest for over a year; you should have seen some things clearly. Huaxia has not treated us poorly, that's a fact. But you and I have special statuses, having once stood on opposite sides, that's another fact. Put those two facts together, and they determine that we must act with restraint."

He lifted the tea cup and gave it a gentle blow: "If I become this consultant, under what identity? The former Kuomintang Southeast supreme commander? The Young Master's most trusted person? Or a War Criminal in Gongde Forest? Whatever the identity, it will complicate matters."

"But Qiu Tian and they trust you!" Huang Wei was somewhat excited, "Chen Geng, Lin Hu also all respect you! Last year at the Founding Ceremony, didn't you also appear on the Tiananmen viewing platform?"

"Indeed, which is why even more restraint is needed," Li Yuxuan's tone remained calm, "Trust is mutual; they give me trust, I must respond with caution. The Korean conflict is a national affair, involving the lives of hundreds of thousands of soldiers, and the strategic game among China, the United States, and the Soviet Union. If someone with my complicated background gets involved, any mishap—or anyone using it as a political weapon—could…"

He did not continue, but Huang Wei already understood. Politics is a pool too deep and murky. Li Yuxuan had taught for half a lifetime and led troops for a lifetime; he knew the stakes all too well.

The room fell silent, only the sound of wind blowing leaves outside the window. After a long while, Huang Wei asked softly, "Then the 'Golden Dagger Scheme'... Director, what are you worried about?"

Li Yuxuan's gaze grew distant: "Accompany me, you've read the Book of Han; you should recall the aftermath of Crown Prince Liu Ju's flight. In Emperor Wu's later years he repented and wanted to recall the prince, but the prince was already dead. The one who devised the Golden Dagger Scheme may have intended either to find a way out for the prince or to lay a hidden move for the court, but in the end..."

He shook his head: "In the end the prince committed suicide, and the senior official could not escape suspicion either. Once a move is played, the player no longer controls it."

Huang Wei fell silent. He recalled his own days on the Huaihai battlefield, where a single wrong move meant total defeat. War is like that, and politics even more so.

"Director," he suddenly stood, standing at attention, "I understand. It was my lack of foresight."

Li Yuxuan waved his hand, indicating he sit down: "You don't understand, or rather, you don't fully understand. Accompany me, I ask you—if the Young Master is now in Taiwan, and hears that I'm a military consultant for the Republic in Yanjing, what would he think?"

Huang Wei was startled.

"Would he think I've betrayed him?" Li Yuxuan asked himself, "No, he knows my character. But what about the people under his command? Those who have always looked down on me? What would they say? 'Look, Li Yuxuan really defected to the Communist Party and is even helping fight the UN Forces.'"

He paused, his voice deeper: "And here? Some people are courteous on the surface; do they think inside, 'Is this senior Kuomintang official truly sincere? Could he be a double‑agent?' Even if that person, Qiu Tian, trusts me, what about the subordinates? Those who lost family on the battlefield and harbor deep hatred for the Kuomintang?"

This series of questions left Huang Wei speechless.

"So," Li Yuxuan sighed, "'The senior official cleverly employs the Golden Dagger Scheme' may seem like a brilliant move, but in fact it's a risky game. If I went to the General Staff Department, I'd become someone neither side fully claims as their own. Rather than that, it's better to stay here in Gongde Forest, read quietly, write memoirs. When advice is needed, convey it through Chen Geng and the others, which is safer."

Huang Wei finally understood completely. He looked at the sixty‑year‑old teacher before him and suddenly felt a pang of compassion. Li Yuxuan had spent his life walking in the cracks of history, struggling between loyalty and righteousness; now in his old age, he still had to tread so cautiously, as if on thin ice.

"Director..." his voice was a little hoarse, "You have suffered too much."

"Suffer from what?" Li Yuxuan laughed instead, "Compared with those children on the battlefield, freezing and starving in icy wastelands, I have food, shelter, books to read, and people to talk with here; that's already a blessing."

He stood up, walked to the bookshelf, and pulled out a thick notebook: "Come, accompany me, take a look at this."

Huang Wei took it, opened it, and saw dense tactical analyses, terrain studies, equipment comparisons, all concerning the Korean battlefield. From the operational characteristics of the U. S. Marine Division One, to the impact of Korean winter climate on weapons and gear, to the logistical challenges of mountain warfare… every detail was orderly and clear.

"What is this..."

"These are what I've compiled over the past two months," Li Yuxuan said, "Every time Chen Geng comes, I ask him about the front‑line situation, then return to study and analyze. He takes these notes to the comrades in the General Staff Department for reference. In this way, I do my part without putting myself in the spotlight and inviting unnecessary trouble."