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The wind of deep autumn carried a chill with it after all, especially along the riverbank, and most especially in the small hours before dawn.
Yet when the rays of the sun came shining through, when that light cast itself upon Fei Qian's eyes, it was as though a faint, feeble glow simultaneously kindled within his heart. It was like a solitary candle flame—tiny, fragile—yet its light suddenly grew rounded and whole, imbued with a peculiar and distinct flavor.
Then, Fei Qian seemed to sense that there was a particular area within him where, under the illumination of this light, the shroud of darkness that had previously enveloped it gradually receded, and that region was slowly lit, bit by bit.
This was no so-called sacred radiance, and what was illuminated was no hallowed shrine of light. On the contrary, what lurked within this region of Fei Qian's being was, in truth, the utmost selfishness and the most extreme cold-heartedness.
Yet all of this became a thread for Fei Qian to understand Sima Hui, tracing back to the very roots of human nature.
Primitive humans were not devoid of selfish desires, nor did they necessarily insist on forming tribes, nor did they understand collective action from the very beginning. But primitive humans came to realize that, separated from the collective, it was exceedingly difficult to survive. And so they collectivized, distributed goods equally, and cared for each other's young and old. The goal, in truth, was for the tribe to survive, because only if the tribe survived could the individual survive...
One day in the fourth year of the Zhongping era, when Fei Qian was shocked to discover that he had somehow arrived in Luoyang of the Han Dynasty, after he drank half a bowl of terribly bitter medicine brought by Uncle Fu and then carelessly spilled the other half—when he saw the aging Uncle Fu in that old residence—the first thought that came to his mind was not to jump up and check whether some kind of system had followed him here. His first thought was: Damn it all, how in the hell am I going to survive...
To survive, to continue the imprint of one's own existence upon this world—this was the deepest, darkest abyss within human nature. Within this darkness, humans could coldly devour the bodies of any animal or plant, strip them of their lives, for a single purpose: to prolong their own life. Even if that body might possibly be...
Therefore, if one strips away all the things that serve as cover—fame, status, erudition, position, faction—and confronts the most fundamental of desires directly, what Sima Hui stood to gain seems to surface into view.
Sima Hui's son had died young; at present, he had no heir.
But Sima Fang had several wives and concubines, and had sired eight sons.
Ma Yan's son had also died young, yet he had found a kinsman from a branch of the family, Ma Yue, to serve as his heir.
Historically, Liu Bei fled east and west; it was possible he had other children before A Dou, but none survived. Thus, he too adopted an heir: Liu Feng...
If some agreement existed between Sima Fang and Sima Hui, then Sima Hui might, for the sake of his own adopted heir, be attempting to leave something behind. And the greatest legacy he possessed was his own prestige and renown.
Comparing the two Simas—if it were not for Fei Qian coming to the Han Dynasty, who would ever care about who Sima Fang even was?
To have prestige, naturally, one could not simply puff it up with one's own breath. It required constant advertising, just like those brain-tonic commercials. And the best vehicle for that advertising...
Was the Sleeping Dragon and the Fledgling Phoenix. And now, of course, with himself added to the list—the Hidden Whale. Perhaps there would be others yet to come in the future.
Between the tale of Bole, the horse-judge, and the thousand-league steed, which one garnered more public attention?
Bole? Or the thousand-league steed?
This matter, Fei Qian suddenly realized, was practically an upgraded version of the Monthly Appraisals...
When a thousand-league steed is spurred to ever greater haste, drawing ever more attention to itself, yet remains out of the master's own hands, people will begin to yearn for the birth of the next batch of peerless horses.
Of course, layered on top of this were many other things, bringing with them additional effects.
Henei had been ravaged by war several times, yet the Sima clan remained completely unaffected. Whether it was under Yuan Shao's rule or Cao Cao's future governance, the Sima family was always treated with special care and favor...
The great Confucian scholar Zheng Xuan was widely recruiting disciples, practically turning no one away. This naturally resulted in the numerous disciples having their attention scattered. It seemed that none of those disciples had anything particularly eye-catching about them...
Fei Qian reflected that if things were truly as he had deduced, then Sima Hui had to be acknowledged as brilliant beyond measure, having chosen a method that allowed everyone to reap some benefit...
It was like a saying from the later era: value, in truth, is the value one represents by being of use to others...
Thinking up to this point, Fei Qian could not help but feel somewhat troubled. Should he be happy or sorrowful? Did this mean that he was more valuable than the average person?
Of course, did it not also mean that he was of greater use value?
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Fei Qian was not the only one troubled by such vexing thoughts.
Li Jue and Guo Si sat in desolate silence within the great tent, facing each other wordlessly, their brows knitted with worry.
Laid out on the table between them was a military order, dispatched by Niu Fu.
Dong Zhuo was dead. His own son had died young long ago, but he also had a nephew, Dong Huang. Most unfortunately, however, Dong Huang had been at Mei Fortress and, along with Dong Zhuo's mother and Dong Zhuo's granddaughter, had journeyed together to the Yellow Springs below...
As for the Chief Clerk, Li Ru, one account said he had been hacked to death by chaotic blades; another said his whereabouts were unknown. In any case, he was nowhere to be seen now. As a result, the sole remaining heir to the Xiliang military command who possessed close blood ties to the Dong family was Colonel Niu Fu alone.
Niu Fu had married Dong Zhuo's daughter, Dong Yi, and was currently stationed in Shan County. Now, acting in the capacity of Dong Zhuo's heir, he had sent over this military order, one which left Li Jue and Guo Si utterly dumbfounded.
"What do we do?" Li Jue rapped his knuckles on the order.
Guo Si shook his head. "Not an easy thing to handle."
Li Jue said, "Of course it's not easy, that's why I'm asking you what to do! Elder Brother, you have to come up with an idea!"
Guo Si glared back. "This damned mess—I don't have any idea either!"
After Dong Zhuo was killed, his son-in-law Niu Fu had been exceptionally enraged. He believed that it was those two Bingzhou fellows, Wang Yun and Lü Bu, who had betrayed the great revolutionary cause. As a result, he harbored a vicious hatred for people from Bingzhou. Consequently, he had every single person within his garrison who was of Bingzhou origin—regardless of whether they were men, women, young, or old—put to death.
And as if that were not enough to quench his fury, Niu Fu, acting in his capacity as Dong Zhuo's heir, issued an order demanding that all Xiliang officers stationed across the Three Adjuncts region must, just as he had done, carry out a policy of extermination against the Bingzhou people...
Thus, there lay the military order now resting on the table.
Yet even an idiot could understand that the moment this butcher's blade was raised, they would essentially be placing themselves completely at odds with Wang Yun. Though they might try to use excuses such as being unable to defy a military order to absolve themselves, the fact remained that it would be their hands that had truly killed the people. The blood of Bingzhou, once it stained their hands, was not something that could simply be washed away at will.
Li Jue suddenly thought of a certain person and ordered his personal guards to summon him. Before long, Jia Xu arrived and paid his respects to the two men.
Li Jue explained the matter of Niu Fu's military order and then asked Jia Xu, "Wenhe, you have always been full of strategies and schemes. How should this matter be handled more appropriately?"
Jia Xu narrowed his eyes into slits. After pondering for a moment, he asked, "May I ask, where is the General of the Household of the East presently?"
Li Jue and Guo Si exchanged a glance, and suddenly drew in a sharp, cold breath.
Li Jue leaned his body slightly forward. "Wenhe's meaning is..."
Jia Xu cupped his hands in a bow. "This humble officer's meaning is of no great consequence. It is Colonel Niu's meaning that is truly important."
The General of the Household of the East was Dong Yue. A few days prior, he had been killed... by Niu Fu.
The stated charge was conspiracy to rebel. But who could really know the truth? Li Jue and Guo Si both seemed to read something else entirely in each other's eyes...
Jia Xu cupped his hands again and said, "This matter is of immense gravity. It is not fitting for this humble officer to speak too much. Generals, I take my leave." Then, without even waiting for Li Jue and Guo Si to react, he exited the great tent.
Jia Xu walked forward, his head lowered, his face utterly expressionless. Only his long, slender eyes and brows were narrowed into a single, unbroken line.