The attendant rolled up the bamboo slip and presented it to Yao Zheng with both hands.
“The matter of blocking the circulation of the article?” Yao Zheng took it and persisted in asking.
The King of Wei glared at him from behind the ceremonial beads. “You are a Senior Official. I have already agreed with your view. Whatever needs to be done, go do it. Surely you do not need me to approve even such a trifling matter? If so, what use is having you as a Senior Official?”
“My king, this is no trifling matter…” Yao Zheng said.
The King of Wei folded his arms and sat up straight. “Then explain in detail. How is it no trifling matter?”
“I have a vague feeling…”
Yao Zheng’s opening was hardly convincing. The King of Wei glared and cut him off impatiently. “Vague? A feeling?”
Yao Zheng had a vague sense that something about this matter was not quite right, but for the moment he could not figure out exactly what. As the King of Wei had said, with ritual and music in decay, states that upheld propriety, such as Song and Wey, had all declined. Even if this matter were exposed, what could they possibly do?
But on second thought, a glimmer suddenly pierced through Yao Zheng’s mind. He quickly said, “What if the Marquis of Wey deliberately makes this matter known to all under heaven, and then borrows troops from Zhao? Then Zhao would have a perfectly justifiable reason to go to war against us…”
“Zhao.” The King of Wei sneered. “They cannot even sort out their own affairs right now. Do they still have strength to spare to go to war with us?”
Although he said this, the King of Wei did take the matter to heart. After all, in the past, even when Wei had swallowed up territories larger than this one, the Marquis of Wey had never dared even to breathe heavily. Now he was unexpectedly making a great clamor of condemnation. There was truly something unusual about the situation.
Ordinarily, Wey had formerly depended on Zhao for its survival, so at this time it was also most likely to seek help from Zhao. But now Zhao was in internal turmoil and could hardly look after itself, so it probably would not be able to spare a hand for some time. Among the neighboring states, only Chu and Qin still seemed somewhat possible…
“Keep strict watch on the movements of Zhao, Chu, and Qin,” the King of Wei said.
“Your Majesty is sagacious,” Yao Zheng said with a bow.
The King of Wei stood up and squinted at the reflection of the white snow outside, thinking to himself which concubine he would take with him later to tread upon the snow.
The sunlight was so dazzlingly white that the faces of passersby and nobles alike were reflected with extreme clarity, while those who were sallow and gaunt looked even darker and yellower.
Song Chuyi brought a servant with him to a large stretch of wasteland on the outskirts of Puyang City in the State of Wey, standing in the fierce north wind and hunched up like a shrimp.
The wind on the open plain was several times stronger than in the city, and the snow on the ground had not yet been trodden upon. A great gust howled past, whipping up the snow and stinging people’s faces. Before long, both of their cheeks had been slapped red.
The servant very much wanted to ask why they had come out to the wilderness in such freezing weather to drink in the wind, but the wind was too strong. When he opened his mouth, not only did no sound come out, but he swallowed a bellyful of wind instead.
Song Chuyi also felt somewhat bitter inside. In this weather, going out to the suburbs was absolutely asking for trouble, but only in such weather was her whereabouts not easily exposed.
Led by the servant, they walked against the fierce wind for about the time it takes to drink two cups of tea, and finally, in a place surrounded by small earthen mounds, they saw several dilapidated thatched huts. The crude wooden plank doors were blown by the strong wind, creaking and banging loudly. The roofs were missing here and there, and it did not look like a place where anyone lived.
Song Chuyi walked over, casually chose one of the huts, and reached out to knock on the door. “Is anyone there?”
No one answered from inside. Song Chuyi called again, “Is there anyone in the house?”
After pausing for a moment and seeing that there was still no response, she pushed the door open and went in.
A faint musty smell wafted through the room. Sunlight poured into the hut in bundles through the holes above, and some snow swept up by the wind swirled down along the shafts of light. In a pile of grass in one corner of the room lay two corpses clad only in clothes barely sufficient to cover their bodies – a mother curled up, holding a child of about six or seven.
Both corpses had already somewhat shriveled, clearly having been dead for some time, but they had not rotted because the weather was too cold.
Song Chuyi roughly looked over the things in the room. There were only a few pottery vessels and some simple daily necessities.
These mother and son had likely been frozen to death here alive because the adult man of the family had died in battle, there was no food to eat in winter, and no one had repaired the thatched hut.
“You go look around nearby and see whether there is anyone in the other huts,” Song Chuyi said.
The servant acknowledged the order, gritted his teeth, and rushed out into the wind and snow.
Song Chuyi surmised that there was most likely no one in the other huts, because in a settlement like this, if there had been anyone else, they would certainly not have let the mother and son freeze and starve to death.
Some small clan settlements migrated as a whole or were wiped out entirely because of war. Even if one or two managed to survive by luck, in the end they still could not hold on to the clan’s land.
Under the present circumstances, Song Chuyi guessed that the whole clan had probably migrated away, while this mother and son had likely insisted on waiting for the man of the family to return. There were also cases in which elderly parents waited for their sons to come back. This was not uncommon; Song Chuyi had encountered it many times.
Song Chuyi had decided to come here today mainly to see whether there was any wasteland in this area. That servant from the Longgu Residence knew there was land here, so she had asked him to lead her here. She had never been to the State of Wey before and had only heard that this place had vast fertile fields and was very prosperous. She had thought it would be a little better than other places, so she had not expected to encounter this on her very first trip. This was far beyond her expectations.
She also had no trustworthy people at hand. Even if she found a way to occupy land, it would not be many days before someone else seized it.
“Sir,” the servant rushed in, bringing wind and snow with him, “there is no one in any of the other huts.”
“Good,” Song Chuyi said musingly.
She had to think of a way to seize this stretch of wasteland. The State of Wey was originally small in territory. If she missed this place, she might not be able to find another.
“Let’s go back first,” Song Chuyi said, then went out. Looking at the vast, boundless snowfield outside, she thought to herself that she did not know whether this place belonged to that small clan or to someone else.
Facing the cold wind, Song Chuyi’s mind was extremely clear. If she was going to make a move on this matter, she had to do it quickly. If the state government investigated and found that no one was here, it would take the land back. In between, there was a loophole to exploit. The laws of Wey were imperfect, so the system was also very loose. The state government would not be too particular about whether the owner of the land was the same as the one previously recorded in the registers. They would simply re-register it, as long as the landowner could pay grain according to the rules each year.
By the time Song Chuyi returned to the city, the sky was already dim. Zi Ya had already prepared bathwater. Song Chuyi soaked in a hot bath, driving the cold out of her body, then checked on the child’s condition and comfortably lay down in the new bedding.
A night of sweet sleep, without dreams.
Early the next morning, Song Chuyi was awakened by a knock on the door. Outside was Ji Mian’s voice, “Huaijin, Huaijin, I heard you picked up another beauty? Let me take a look.”
Still drowsy, Song Chuyi also cursed Nan Qi thoroughly. He looked so aloof and lofty, but unexpectedly he was like a gossipy old woman, meddlesome and long-tongued.
