"Come on. Let's talk about how you managed to invade Youzhou six years ago."
Xiao Shaojin lay back on the wooden bed, crossing his legs casually. He hugged a food box his guards had just delivered—fresh sesame candy and cloud-flake pastries from Jicheng.
He munched happily. Border snacks still taste the best, he thought. The fancy pastries sent from the Capital every ten days were too sweet. He usually gave them to his guards.
Rumor had it that one layer of the Capital food box was always handmade by Princess Yuwen Anlan, the Emperor's youngest daughter. His guards had once found pastries carved with the names "Shaojin" and "Anlan," and even little dough figures that looked suspiciously like the two of them.
Princess Anlan was three years older than him. When Xiao Shaojin studied in the Capital two years ago, they were arch-enemies, turning the palace upside down. Yet, when he left, she tried to follow him to the border, screaming that she would make him her Prince Consort. Xiao Shaojin had called her a "crazy woman" and fled on a horse—the first time he had ever ridden one.
Xiao Shaojin finished a piece of candy. "The Wu soldiers are prisoners now. I hold their lives. If you don't cooperate, they die. Do you think having your brother with you on the Yellow Springs Road is not enough?"
The old Grand Preceptor finally spoke.
"Your Highness... do you know what the Nine Realms of Literary Veins are?"
Xiao Shaojin mumbled through a mouthful of sesame candy.
"In the beginning of chaos, heaven and earth were split. The Heavenly Origin Sage took nine disciples. They all became Sages and ascended, leaving behind nine Literary Veins in the Central Plains. These veins breed the Noble Spirit (Haoran Qi). Later generations cultivate this Spirit through reading the Sages' books. There are 48,000 academies under the Nine Veins. Those who start are Scholars; those who comprehend are Inheritors; those who expand the Dao are Sages."
"Correct," the old man nodded. "There are many schools of thought, but only the Nine Veins are the Orthodox Great Dao! Which Vein do you cultivate, Your Highness?"
"I study under Master Zeng of the Four Sages Vein," Xiao sat up straight. Whenever he spoke of Confucianism, he had to be respectful—a lesson beaten into his palms by Master Zeng's ruler. "I have cultivated the Noble Spirit for nine years."
"Since you follow the Orthodox Dao," the old man asked, "why learn the devious arts of Ghost Valley?"
"There are no devious arts. Whatever serves me is the Righteous Path. If you want to debate philosophy, Grand Preceptor, I will entertain you."
Xiao knew the old man wanted to shake his Literary Heart. But if he stood firm, his cultivation would improve.
"Summarize the essence of Confucianism in one sentence," the old man challenged, his tone hardening. He wanted to crush this boy's arrogance before he died.
"The world says: Cultivate oneself, regulate the family, govern the state, and bring peace to the world," Xiao replied standardly.
"What do you say?"
Xiao paused, his eyes deep.
"The Great Dao is dying; the Nine Paths are exhausted. With my lifespan, I plan for the people. With my flesh and blood, I nurture the Heavenly Dao. The Heavens are vast, the search is endless. As long as luck remains, my Dao will prosper."
"Good!" the old man shouted. "What is the Middle Way?"
"Not biased, not leaning. Not loyal blindly, not rebellious without cause. Not gaining, not losing. A balance point between the Way of Heaven and the Way of Man."
"Brilliant! Is 'Benevolence as the root, Rituals as the aid' correct?"
"That's your own question, isn't it?" Xiao glanced at him. "In my view, different countries need different methods. The Northern Tribes lack education; men have no righteousness, sons have no filial piety. You should use Rituals (Law) as the main tool, and Benevolence second. The Huachao Empire has inherited the Sage's teachings for a thousand years; governing it is like cooking a small fish. The order of 'Benevolence first, Rituals second' cannot be changed."
"I am finished," the old man bowed deeply, genuine respect in his eyes. "Your Highness has truly inherited the Four Sages' teachings. 'If one hears the Dao in the morning, one can die content in the evening.' I have no regrets. May I ask one final question?"
"Ask."
"To awaken the Literary Heart before age nine, one must unconsciously perform a deed that matches a line from the Sages' books. Which line did you fulfill?"
Xiao answered without hesitation. "'The superior man seeks it in himself; the inferior man seeks it in others.'"
"I see," the old man sighed. "Then our defeat was not just strategy, but destiny. Your talent is Heaven-sent. If you study hard, the title of 'Boy Sage' is not far off."
Xiao ignored the praise. "Six years ago. The invasion. Tell me the truth."
"History is written by victors," Xiao added, staring at the old man. "But the cause of that war is personal to me. I must know."
The old man poured himself another cup of milk tea.
"Sometimes, the truth is not important."
"Because the truth is never beautiful. Speak. I promise: As long as the Wu Tribe does not attack, the Border Army will not invade for five years."
The old man made up his mind.
"Eight years ago, heavy snow fell in the North for months. Countless cattle and sheep froze. The Seven Nations suffered heavy losses. We had no choice but to ask Huachao for help."
"Months later, a group of Han Chinese came. They offered aid... with conditions."
Xiao Shaojin stood up. He had guessed this. The hand pushing the war came from the Capital.
"They said: Prepare for one year. When the next order comes, invade Youzhou. They gave us grain, armor, weapons... even generals to teach us tactics."
"Who sent them?" Xiao asked sharply. "The Imperial Family? or the Civil Officials?"
"Not the Imperial Family," the old man shook his head. "They dressed like wealthy merchants and scholars from the Jiangnan region."
Xiao Shaojin froze.
He knew the Emperor suspected his father. That was normal. No Emperor trusted a Warlord with 500,000 troops.
But Xiao Shaojin believed in the Emperor's kindness. The old man in the palace treated him like a son, feeding him snacks, teaching him swordplay, showing him memorials. Even the Empress treated him with motherly warmth.
If the Emperor wanted to kill him, why wait? Why treat him so well?
But Jiangnan...
Xiao Shaojin's mother, Su Dai, was the legitimate daughter of the Su Clan of Jiangnan.
The Su Clan was the pinnacle of literary fame. Twelve Prime Ministers in the previous dynasty. "Three Dukes and Nine Sus."
Would his mother's family do this? Would they cause the separation of his parents, the death of thousands, and the ruin of Youzhou... just to destroy his father?
Are we not family?
The old man continued. "You know the rest. Eight hundred thousand troops from the Seven Nations invaded. The border generals opened six gates for us. We struck Jicheng like lightning. Xiao Hong fled with his wife and son. He was impeached by the entire court. How he gathered troops to drive us back later... I do not know."
Xiao Shaojin stood in a daze.
He remembered his mother. Her face was blurring in his memory, but he recalled her red dress and the sound of her zither. It felt like a dagger in his heart.
He missed those peaceful days. Until Jicheng fell. Until the barbarians came like demons.
He remembered his father, covered in blood, carrying him and his mother out of the burning city. He remembered his father being called a traitor. He remembered his grandfather—Grand Secretary Su—forcing his mother to divorce his father and locking her away in the Capital.
Mother and Grandfather are family. Why? Is it because I was born? am I the cause of all this?
Years ago, six-year-old Xiao Shaojin had asked his tutor, Master Zeng. Master Zeng didn't answer. He just hugged the crying boy and said, "None of this is your fault, Xiao Jin. It will get better. You will be a family again."
Xiao Shaojin finally spoke, his voice hollow.
"I will tell you the rest."
"The officials, led by Grand Secretary Su, impeached Xiao Hong for treason. They sent 300,000 Imperial Guards to arrest him. Grand Secretary Su wrote the divorce letter himself."
"After the divorce, Su petitioned the Emperor to let Xiao Hong atone for his crimes. They gave him 1,000 cavalry and six months. If he failed to repel the enemy, he would be beheaded."
Xiao Shaojin sat back down, his face devoid of emotion.
"Xiao Hong gathered 100,000 troops in three months. He retook the four commanderies of Youzhou. In another three months, he retook twenty-eight fortresses."
"At the end of the year, the Three Judicial Ministries cleared his name. They concluded: The mastermind of the treason was the Youzhou Overseer, Wang Minzhi. The Emperor executed Wang's nine generations. Since then, Youzhou has had no Overseer."
Xiao Shaojin looked at the Grand Preceptor, his eyes cold and empty.
"That is the 'Official Truth'."