Gan Ning's life in Jiangxia was, on the whole, quite comfortable. If there was any regret at all, it was that he could not take the helm of a ship.
Those experimental vessels fitted with swing-arms passed before his eyes every day, yet every request he made to pilot them was rejected.
That itchy feeling of being so close yet unable to touch left Gan Ning extremely frustrated.
Fortunately, aside from that, there were still familiar faces around, allowing Gan Ning to recapture the sensation of roaring back and forth upon the river as he once had.
Among those stationed in Jiangxia, aside from the impeccably courteous and faultless General Zilong, there were also some wounded and exhausted soldiers left behind earlier when Gan Gui returned to recuperate. Among them was a small group of the eight hundred elite troops who had once followed Gan Ning.
From these former subordinates, Gan Ning learned in greater detail about everything Gan Gui had done over the past year.
Last year, during the Jing-Xiang campaign, he had risked his life cutting through the Yu River to deliver grain to Guan Yunchang. This year, he led troops in a surprise assault on Jiangdong, encircling points and striking reinforcements to ease the pressure on Jiangling.
During the intervals between these two campaigns, he had also allowed them to return home along the river to honor their ancestors and report their safety to their families.
At the same time, he had strictly ordered them to take the lead in learning to read and write, so as to set an example for the rest of the troops.
"The young general said learning to read was for… for what again?"
The elite soldier with a bandaged arm had originally meant to complain, but halfway through, he suddenly could not remember.
"So that in the future you can read the Treatise on Maritime Affairs, and become elite sea soldiers under Lord Xuande."
Gan Ning shook his head and smoothly took over the sentence.
"Yes, yes, the Treatise on Maritime Affairs. I can never remember that phrase."
The bandaged soldier was delighted and asked curiously,
"General, you know about it too?"
Gan Ning naturally knew.
Although his original intention in coming to Jiangxia was merely to see his son and report that he was safe, the new ships here quickly captured his interest. After lengthy discussions with the shipwrights, he did not manage to pry out much concrete information.
However, one casual remark from a shipwright lingered in his mind.
The master craftsman, eyes full of longing, had said that Lord Xuande planned in the future to establish shipyards in Jiangdong, to build thirty-zhang sea-going flagship vessels capable of withstanding strong winds, so that sons of Han might sail them across the seas, stirring waves and measuring the vastness of heaven and earth.
Having himself fled from Jiangdong and drifted at sea for more than a month, Gan Ning was no stranger to the ocean. Its vastness was something rivers could never compare to. As such, he had taken the statement as nothing more than a tale meant to rally the shipwrights' spirits.
After all, thirty zhang.
The most common large warships in Jiangdong were barely over eight zhang in length.
Even the massive Jingzhou vessels now commanded by his son Gan Gui, whose length he had personally asked about, were only thirteen zhang, already colossal by any standard.
A thirty-zhang flagship was beyond his imagination. More importantly, once such a ship was built, whom would it fight?
Thus, when chatting with General Zilong in Jiangxia, Gan Ning had used humor to raise this doubt as a joke.
Yet in response to the question, the usually austere and colorless General Zilong unexpectedly wore a look of longing, as though recalling something. In the end, he answered with certainty,
"To build sea ships and establish a sea force is naturally for the purpose of measuring the vastness of heaven and earth."
Zhao Yun's serious and earnest attitude silenced Gan Ning. He quietly listened as the white-robed general briefly but solemnly outlined Lord Xuande's and his strategists' preliminary plans for the sea force. Only after finishing the tea, long since gone cold, did Gan Ning rise and take his leave.
Now, hearing his former subordinates mention the Treatise on Maritime Affairs again, that complex mixture of emotions surged once more in Gan Ning's heart.
In Jiangling, when facing Lu Su's teasing smile, he had responded with ease on the surface.
But in his heart, he held deep disdain for a situation where a father gained status through his son.
Coming to Jiangxia had not been without thoughts of seeking merit and renown. He had even imagined how he would refuse if the local administrator asked him to attack Jiangdong.
What he had not expected was that the gaze of those under Lord Xuande had already passed beyond Jiangdong, cast toward the distant and boundless sea.
Thus, the tangled thoughts of Jiangdong and Marquis Sun that had once churned in his mind finally settled into a quiet sigh.
Dry bones in the grave. What are they worth worrying about?
"General? General?"
The wounded soldier, his injured arm still slung across his chest, waved his good left hand in front of Gan Ning's face, pulling him from his thoughts.
Gan Ning laughed at himself. Since arriving in Jiangxia, how had he also grown sentimental like Lu Zijing?
The smile returned to his face. Adjusting into a more relaxed posture, he asked,
"What were you saying just now?"
The wounded soldier blushed slightly but still insisted in a low voice,
"I was asking whether the general intends to go to sea. If so, I want to follow you again."
Gan Ning pondered briefly. The thoughts of these old subordinates were not hard to guess. It was not that they had any objections to Gan Gui.
To be precise, these eight hundred elite soldiers had practically watched Gan Gui grow up. Although they followed his orders now, there was inevitably a subtle layer of distance, especially since Gan Ning himself had already severed ties with Jiangdong.
Furthermore, Gan Gui had now participated in two major campaigns. Judging by his battle record alone, his brilliance was no less than Gan Ning's own, and he possessed authority as well.
This was precisely the moment to use that authority to consolidate hearts, gather fierce troops, and temper a personal force that moved like one's own limbs.
Yet now, the closest people around Gan Gui were instead these elder, uncle-like veterans. Though unable to articulate the deeper implications clearly, they nonetheless keenly sensed the awkwardness.
This time, Gan Ning's contemplation did not last long. Facing the slightly embarrassed expressions of his old subordinates, he broke into a broad smile.
"This is simple. Of course you can."
He then patted the soldier's shoulder in reassurance.
"Not just you. Any brothers willing to return here are welcome."
The wounded soldier and several nearby veterans were overjoyed, but immediately heard Gan Ning's next words.
"Once we gather again, I will personally supervise you all in reading and writing, studying that Treatise on Maritime Affairs, and one day we will set sail upon the seas."
At these words, the expressions of the surrounding veterans stiffened, each seeing the bitterness on the others' faces.
Gan Ning burst into laughter. He knew well enough his old brothers' laziness when it came to reading and writing. Their desire to leave Gan Gui's side likely had much to do with being forced to recognize characters and learn letters.
But unfortunately for them, Gan Ning had no intention of letting them off. He even planned to use harsher methods to ensure all these brothers became literate, so that he could seize the initiative in the race to go to sea ahead of his son.
After venting the various thoughts in his heart, Gan Ning once again felt his spirit surge.
If Lord Xuande could stand in Guanzhong and gaze across the distant seas, then why could Gan Xingba not try once more to carve out the name of the Brocade Sail Sea Raider?
At the same time, in Buwei City of Yizhou, Wu Yi sat squarely in the hall, watching as the local tribal chieftain respectfully bowed his head and presented a silk document bearing signatures and seals, signifying submission. Kneeling beside him was a young boy.
Sima Yi leaned close to Wu Yi and confirmed that the youth was indeed the chieftain's own son.
At this moment, Sima Yi's face was also thick with the dust of travel.
After sending off Zhang Yi, Wu Yi had ignored his objections and forcibly led him westward from Dian Lake, driving the army forward in a headlong advance.
With the aid of medicinal powders, the once-feared miasma no longer troubled the Yizhou army. The local tribes could do nothing but flee into the mountains, praying to their gods to destroy these invaders.
Yet under Sima Yi's gentle promises and Wu Yi's stern intimidation, there were always tribal leaders who chose to submit and even led the Yizhou troops to flush out their neighboring tribes.
Now, the city they occupied, Buwei, was the last major city in southwestern Yizhou. Pacifying it meant that after the arbitrary rule of Liu Yan and his son, all of Yizhou had once again returned to Han authority, the province restored to wholeness.
Out of habit, Wu Yi coldly asked,
"Have you seen an item that came through the Southwestern Barbarian route, a flower like cotton?"
This sort of question had been asked countless times before, and Wu Yi himself held little hope.
But this time was different. After hearing the translation, the tribal leader thought carefully, then nodded vigorously.
Wu Yi froze for a moment, then burst into joy.