Half a Spoiler Chapter 77

Ren Feihong tucked the gold away and promptly swung herself onto the horse. Although the number of men brought by the other side did not appear to be large, and it wasn’t impossible for her own side to put up a fight, given the Song clan’s standing, why would they suddenly appear here, and under whose orders could they be acting? It could only be by the command of the Sovereign, who had sent them to make the arrest.

Since the supreme ruler of the land intended it so, no matter where she hid, she would inevitably be captured.

Beyond having a clear understanding of the situation, Ren Feihong also harbored little psychological resistance to the prospect of being taken to Wu’an. Her family, much like the Song clan, was an old, established lineage with impeccable virtue and reputation. However, ever since her household had undergone a drastic upheaval, Ren Feihong’s temperament had inevitably veered significantly toward the unconventional and rebellious – since the people of the time revered the scholar-gentry of the Central Plains, Ren Feihong deliberately chose to serve as an advisor to a tribal chieftain from the western frontier; since the people of the time believed that a talented individual, once having chosen a lord, should remain loyal for life, she would make a point of switching allegiances with ease.

The trusted followers who had come with Ren Feihong were originally clients of the Yun family. No matter how unorthodox their young mistress behaved, they remained loyal to her. Since Ren Feihong had decided to follow Song Nanlou, they silently turned their horses and trailed behind.

Along the way, Ren Feihong deliberately tried to engage Song Nanlou in conversation, hoping to gather some information about Wu’an in advance. Song Nanlou, for his part, was well aware of her intentions and only exchanged pleasantries about the customs of Dan, Tai and other regions, refusing to utter a single word concerning the inner affairs of the imperial court.

Sensing his reluctance, Ren Feihong stopped probing further. Instead, she followed his lead and complained a bit about the damp climate.

Having lived in seclusion among the western tribes for many years, Ren Feihong had long lost contact with her former acquaintances. Despite her family’s scholarly heritage, information no longer flowed as freely as it had when she was in the Central Plains. It was only now that she could confirm the mastermind within the Jianping faction was none other than Wen Yanran herself.

She had sought to use the power of local magnates to deliver a surprise blow to Wu’an, thinking her strategy ingenious. It wasn’t until Song Nanlou intercepted her retreat that she realized she had merely been a pawn in someone else’s game all along.

Ren Feihong reflected that when Marquis of Quanling had met her end at the Northern Park, she might have felt a similar sense of futility. Yet, Wen Jinming was, after all, a noblewoman of her time. Even when aware of the hopelessness, she would have stayed her course to the very end – unlike her, who had switched allegiances so easily. But then again, had it been thirty years earlier, would the daughter of the Yun clan of Jianzhou ever have dared to openly oppose the imperial court?

The task Wen Yanran had previously entrusted to Song Nanlou, which required him to take a detour, was precisely to bring Ren Feihong to Wu’an.

This individual possessed considerable competence in her work and was capable of shifting allegiances according to circumstances – clearly not the epitome of loyalty and integrity. Coupled with her family background, she likely harbored certain prejudices against Jianping. While the court’s influence remained strong, she would dutifully serve; however, in a future where the empire’s order collapsed and imperial authority crumbled, she might very well turn her spearhead against her former master. To Wen Yanran, such a person was a rather suitable talent.

Ren Feihong was handed over by Song Nanlou to the palace attendants. Under their guidance, she first washed and refreshed herself, then changed into attire appropriate for an audience with the Emperor before being summoned into the back office.

Though the government office in Wu’an was modest in size, under the stewardship of the palace attendants, it exuded an atmosphere of order vastly different from its past. Ren Feihong understood that the inner officials were an extension of the Emperor’s authority, and their conduct inevitably bore traces of the Emperor’s own style.

By the window of the back office, a young figure sat reading by the light. She wore no imperial crown but a simple gauze cap to tie back her hair. As she sat, a long azure robe draped around her, flowing gracefully downward. In style, the attire resembled the loose, wide-sleeved robes favored in the southern regions, making her seem less like a high-ranking court noble and more like a refined scholar. Only her gaze was clear and piercing as frost, reminiscent of a blade half-drawn from its sheath.

Had Wen Yanran known what Ren Feihong was thinking, she would have realized just how long it had been since the latter had returned to the Central Plains. Fashions in caps, robes, and accessories changed every few years. Styles similar to the southern ones she observed had already spread to Jianzhou a decade prior. The Great Zhou Dynasty, having endured for many years, saw its upper echelons succumbing to decadence and excess. Some scholars’ robes had grown so voluminous that they required servants to hold them up while walking.

Ren Feihong was led to the corridor, where she first bowed before being ushered into the room to bow once more. “This commoner, Ren Feihong, pays her respects to Your Majesty.”

Wen Yanran smiled. “In a private audience, there is no need for such formality.”

Ren Feihong noticed a plate of tangerines placed beside the Emperor’s hand. They were not local produce of Dan Province but likely tributes sent from Jianping.

The Emperor’s tone was amiable, and noticing Ren Feihong’s attention on the fruit, she handed her a tangerine.

Wen Yanran said, “Upon returning to Jianping, you shall first serve as an Attendant-in-Waiting in the Imperial Household Department.”

In the Great Zhou Dynasty, there existed a nominal ninth-rank court official attached to the Imperial Household known as the Inner Court Attendant-in-Waiting. The number of such attendants was not fixed. Many of them were appointed for their literary talent or musical skill, representing a special category of individuals recommended to the court for their particular expertise.

Ren Feihong paused, then replied, “I am unworthy.”

Wen Yanran offered a faint smile. “The fact that you are here has already been of great help to us.”

Upon hearing this, Ren Feihong’s heart skipped a beat. The Emperor’s words seemed to subtly acknowledge that when she left Chongsui City, she had managed to handle the local magnates without causing significant disruption. As a result, the imperial guards who entered the city later subdued Chongsui almost without bloodshed, and the population, private armies, and wealth of those powerful families were naturally redirected to the front lines.

Moreover, these words seemed to carry a deeper implication – the Sovereign was aware that many of Fuhe Fang’s strategies had, in fact, been devised by Ren Feihong.

Ren Feihong felt a chill of apprehension. She had always kept a low profile and even changed her name, yet she had still failed to escape the other’s notice.

Of course, if Wen Yanran were to comment, this had little to do with how discreet Ren Feihong herself had been and was largely the result of spoilers. Moreover, the spoiler section tended to be less saturated with jokes compared to other areas, offering a relatively objective assessment of this strategist. In the posts Wen Yanran had previously read, Ren Feihong was described as one who “delights in taking extreme risks.” Thus, it was no surprise she had dared to venture alone into the rear areas of Wu’an.

Wen Yanran glanced at her and said unhurriedly, “After the Fuhe clan is vanquished, would you assist me in pacifying the Western Tribes?”

Ren Feihong paused briefly, then stepped forward and offered a silent bow – a tacit agreement.

Though she had consented to switch sides, she still retained a certain professional integrity as an advisor. Even now, within Wu’an, it was inappropriate for her to disclose what counsel she had previously offered her former lord. The Emperor, understanding her past professional constraints, provided a practical solution: once the Fuhe clan was entirely eradicated, Ren Feihong would naturally be freed from her historical burdens and no longer need to remain silent.

Wen Yanran smiled and had Ren Feihong escorted away.

The Western Tribes are a complex and numerous force. Although they have now suffered heavy blows, like a centipede that does not die even when cut into pieces, the greater the pressure they face, the more likely they are to unite and fight desperately in resistance.

Wen Yanran reflected that Ren Feihong, being unorthodox and rebellious, and given the divide between the Western Tribes and the Central Plains, Fuhe Fang likely only trusted this advisor half-heartedly. This was precisely why Ren Feihong had infiltrated Chongsui, aiming to accomplish something significant to demonstrate her capabilities.

“Summon General Song.”

After delivering Ren Feihong to Wu’an, Song Nanlou did not leave immediately. He waited respectfully for half a day, and sure enough, a palace attendant arrived to summon him for an audience.

Upon seeing him, the Emperor went straight to the point. “Among the four clans in Tai Province, three have now suffered heavy losses. Naturally, the remaining forces look to the Fuhe clan as their leader.” She added, “If I were in Fuhe Fang’s position, now would be the perfect time to methodically consolidate power within the region, then hold the territory and engage Jianping in a stalemate.”

Song Nanlou considered the Emperor’s words and also found the situation challenging. Since ancient times, besieging a city has never been an easy task. Back at Lai’an, Wen Yanran had instructed the Tao father and son to feign weakness before the enemy, luring out the main forces to crush them. The reason was simple: if they had attempted a direct assault, there was no guarantee of certain victory.

Although Tai Province’s overall strength has been severely weakened, if Fuhe Fang opts for a strategy of delay, hunkering down and refusing to engage, it would require immense effort for Jianping to fully subdue Tai Province.

Wen Yanran smiled. “With Wang You’s abilities, she likely already realizes she has been working to someone else’s advantage.” She paused, then added, “Didn’t you capture Lao Baijie of the Lao clan? Let’s use her to stir things up.”

Inside the front camp.

A servant dressed in the style of the Western Tribes walked with his head lowered.

His name was Lao Baisheng, the younger brother of Lao Baijie. The Western Tribes placed great importance on kinship, and since Lao Baijie was the next head of the clan, she had led the troops into battle this time intending to accumulate prestige and merit. However, before she could achieve any success, she was captured by Zhong Zhiwei. When the news reached Tai Province, the Lao clan hurriedly sent envoys, offering substantial wealth in exchange for his release.

Initially, Jianping’s attitude had shown some signs of softening, but recently it turned cold again. The Lao clan’s envoys were turned away multiple times upon attempting to visit.

Unable to bear it any longer, Lao Baisheng decided to personally lead a rescue mission to free his sister. Being a bold and fearless individual, he successfully infiltrated Rock City, where Lao Baijie was currently held. However, he was soon detected by patrolling soldiers. Just when he thought escape was impossible, he was unexpectedly allowed to pass.

Baffled and bewildered, he cautiously inquired further and learned that the soldiers had mistaken him for a member of the Fuhe clan, which was why they had spared him.

Why would the Fuhe clan, who also originated from the Western Tribes, have connections with Jianping’s forward troops and be treated with such favor?

The Lao clan had marital ties with the Fuhe clan, and Lao Baisheng believed he understood Fuhe Fang quite well. Gathering his courage, he pretended to be a relative of the Fuhe clan and, to his surprise, managed to blend into the military camp under the guise of that identity.

Initially, he intended to bide his time, gradually gathering intelligence, but he unexpectedly overheard that Jianping planned to publicly execute Lao Baijie in the coming days.

Under the cover of night, a few soldiers gathered around a fire, eating, drinking, and chatting idly. Lao Baisheng hid behind a tent, gritting his teeth as he eavesdropped on their conversation.

“Don’t be so guarded. After the battle at Menqu Slope, the overall situation is settled. We’ll be heading home soon.”

“Is that so? I’m not convinced! Even if many from the Western Tribes have died, our main forces haven’t yet entered Tai Province. What if something unexpected happens?”

“You’re truly out of the loop. What kind of trouble could possibly arise now? To be frank, my brother-in-law serves by the general’s side, so I’m quite privy to the inside details.”

After a round of laughter and the sound of drinking, the voice of the person who claimed his brother-in-law served under Song Nanlou spoke again, now thick with intoxication:

“The Fuhe clan has long pledged allegiance to the Sovereign. Tai Province is actually already under Jianping’s control. It’s only because some remnants of the other three clans still hold power that they cannot immediately surrender the entire region. Now, the head of the Li clan has fallen ill, the Lao clan has always been incompetent, and Wang You is not trusted. Otherwise, why do you think the general doesn’t keep that young Lao hostage? It’s precisely because the Fuhe clan has already submitted to Jianping. Keeping her alive is useless – better to execute her and be done with it.”

Lao Baisheng’s heart felt as though it were torn asunder. Realizing he could delay no longer, he immediately stole two sets of Jianping attire from the barracks. Taking advantage of the guard change when no one was watching, he slipped to where his sister was detained, brought her out, and stuffed two pillows arranged in human shapes into the bedding to mislead the guards.

Agile and swift, the Western man, even with an adult on his back, moved without a sound. In a flash, the figures of the Lao siblings vanished into the darkness. Behind them, several young men dressed as Jianping soldiers stretched lazily.

“We’ve been putting on this act for so long. That lad has finally decided to make his move.”

“If he hadn’t acted soon, I would’ve been tempted to rescue her for him!”

“All these days, we’ve been coaxing him while also pretending to be Fuhe clansmen sneaking around the camp to rouse the Lao clan’s suspicions. It’s been truly exhausting. We must ask the general for more rewards when we return.”

These men were Song Nanlou’s personal guards. Hailing from Jianping, they were talented in both civil and military affairs, with many even fluent in the dialects of the Western Tribes. After sharing a few laughs, they returned to report to their superiors.