Farmers of Shu Han

Chapter 1474 A way out
Pengcheng, the General's Mansion.

Jia Chong practically burst into the study with an urgent report in his hand, the silk cloth in his grasp damp with sweat.

"General! Urgent report from Jiangdong—" His voice was extremely low, but it couldn't hide his urgency, "Zhuge Ke has fallen! Sun Jun has taken power, and Zhuge Ke has been demoted to the position of Governor of Xiling!"

Sima Zhao was looking down at the open map of Qing, Xu, Liao and Haiyuan on the table when he heard this, he paused.

He slowly straightened up, but instead of taking the silk, he raised his hand and slapped his forehead hard.

"How fortunate!"

The four words rolled out of his throat with an almost absurd sense of exhilaration.

Jia Chong was stunned, his hand holding the silk froze in mid-air.

"General...why do you say that?"

Jia Chong looked at Sima Zhao in disbelief. For a moment, he even thought that the general had been possessed by something.

"Zhuge Ke previously sent Zhongli Mu to a secret meeting, and last month he gifted me sixty warships, which demonstrates his sincerity in allying with Wei against Han. Now that Han is strong and Wu and Wei are weak, it is precisely time..."

"Should we form an alliance?" Sima Zhao interrupted him, a mocking glint in his eyes. "Gonglu, do you really think Zhuge Ke is sincerely helping me?"

Jia Chong asked in a daze, "Isn't that right?"

"What is it!" It would have been better if Zhuge Ke hadn't been mentioned, because the mere mention of Zhuge Ke ignited Sima Zhao's fury.

He slammed his hand on the table, gritting his teeth, and said:

"Now that things have come to this, I'm not afraid to tell you. You ask me, in the Battle of Dongxing, was I... truly defeated by Zhuge Ke?"

Is not it?

Jia Chong knew that the Battle of Huainan had always been a thorn in the side of the general.

Now that I hear this, could there be some hidden story?

"Back when you were still alive, you wrote a letter to Zhuge Ke, agreeing to 'feign defeat and yield the Huai River.' But Zhuge Yuanxun did just that—feign defeat? He sent cavalry to pursue and kill us all the way!"

Although several months have passed, whenever Sima Zhao recalls how he was almost captured by Wu's cavalry several times, he can't help but disregard his composure and start cursing.

"If... if I hadn't decisively abandoned Shouchun, I fear he would have made it seem like we were really dead!"

Upon hearing this, Jia Chong froze on the spot as if struck by lightning.

The urgent report from Jiangdong that he hadn't yet put down slipped from his hand and fell to the ground with a "thud".

"Feign defeat...feign defeat to let Huai pass?"

Jia Chong's voice trembled.

The candlelight suddenly leaped, casting his shadow on the wall, and even the shadow itself trembled slightly.

"Grand Tutor... Grand Tutor, he..."

Jia Chong raised his head, his face drained of color, staring intently at Sima Zhao, his eyes surging with horror:

"The four prefectures of Huainan... an army of 70,000... it is... it is..."

"Gonglu." Sima Zhao's voice pulled him back from the chaos. "At that time, Guanqiu Jian surrendered to the Han with his army. Xuchang and Runan were lost, and Qiao County had no natural defenses."

"If the Han army crosses the Huai River to the south and marches straight to the walls of Shouchun, how can Huainan be defended?"

Once Shouchun is besieged, the Han army can use its cavalry advantage to cut off Qingxu's support to Huainan.

Since you're going to lose it anyway, you might as well lose it sooner rather than later, and it's better to lose it proactively than to lose it passively.

It's better to give it to Wu than to Han.

Of course, there was one thing Sima Zhao didn't say.

That was Zhuge Dan, the acting governor of Yangzhou. He was of unclear mind and his troops were mostly former subordinates of Wang Ling.

"Given the circumstances at the time, the lord's idea was that it would be best to secretly make an agreement with the Wu Kingdom to jointly resist the Han Kingdom."

Huainan represents the sincerity shown by the adults.

Unfortunately... he encountered a treacherous Jiangdong scoundrel.

Zhuge Ke, I hate you!
Jia Chong slowly lowered his hand, his palms covered in cold sweat.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but found that he couldn't make a sound.

"I understand..."

He picked up the silk again, gently placed it back on the table, and smoothed out the wrinkles:

"Were those sixty ships also a token of Zhuge Ke's 'sincerity'? Or were they just bait from beginning to end?"

"It's bait, and it's also a lock." Sima Zhao walked to the window, pushed it open halfway, and the night wind rushed in, making his hair fly wildly.

"He wanted to use this bait to lure me in, to get me to hold back the Han Kingdom's northern front. Too bad..."

He turned around, the candlelight illuminating half of his face:

"I would rather believe the Han state than the Wu people."

Jia Chong bowed respectfully, without asking another question.

Some secrets are better left unsaid; the less you know them, the longer you live. But once you know them, you can only keep them to yourself.

The night outside the window was thick, and the faint sound of the night patrol's clapper could be heard in the distance.

The sound, having traveled through layers of buildings, reached this secret room by the time it became as faint as a sigh.

Jia Chong knew that from this night onward, some things could never be returned to.

Having revealed a secret he had kept hidden in his heart, Sima Zhao visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

He then took out a sealed letter with sealing wax from his sleeve. "A few days ago, Lu Yu returned from the Han Kingdom. Feng Yong personally promised that the Han army would not invade Wei territory within two years."

"But can Feng Yong's words really be believed?"

Jia Chong's voice was somewhat unsteady, as if he hadn't fully recovered from the shock of those four words, "feigned defeat and surrender of Huai," and he sounded somewhat bewildered at this moment:
"If he takes advantage of my unpreparedness..."

"If he wants to attack, he can attack now!" Sima Zhao suddenly raised his voice. "Qing and Xu are devastated, with no more than 70,000 soldiers—if Feng Yong really intends to attack, why resort to trickery? Just send troops directly!"

He turned around, his finger pressing heavily on the map, marking the locations of Qing and Xu prefectures, his fingertip almost tearing through the silk.

"Gonglu, look carefully! To the west of Qingzhou lies the formidable Mount Tai, but can that barrier stop us from the west or the north?"

"There's only one large river to the north, not a major river! Pingyuanjin, Qugaojin... which place can't we cross to ferry a large army?"

"Once the Han cavalry of Hebei crosses the river, the Taishan garrison will be cut off from the rear, and even the most dangerous mountain pass will be nothing more than a death row!"

He was breathing heavily, his eyes bloodshot.
"At most ten days... no, seven days will be enough. Within seven days, the Han cavalry will be able to completely surround Xiapi."

"Qingxu is not Shu, it lacks the fortification of Jianmen Pass and the natural defenses of Hanzhong—with such a small territory, how can we turn the tide?"

Jia Chong opened his mouth as if to say something, but saw Sima Zhao suddenly stagger back a step and fall onto the Hu bed.

The candlelight cast an uneven glow on half of his face, and his usually straight back was now slightly hunched.

"I am no match for Zhuge Liang, much less for Feng Yong..."

Sima Zhao's voice lowered, carrying an almost self-mocking weariness, "Even you, sir, have been defeated. What can I use to prolong the life of the Great Wei?"

He raised his head and looked at Jia Chong, the light in his eyes extinguished, leaving only a bottomless grayness:

"Gonglu, the Great Wei is finished, it's finished... beyond saving."

The last three words were as light as a sigh, yet so heavy that they made Jia Chong's heart tremble.

He had never seen the general show such an expression—not anger, not resentment, but a kind of resigned dejection.

After a long silence, Jia Chongcai finally spoke in a hoarse voice: "General..."

Sima Zhao looked up and gave Jia Chong a wry smile:
"Gonglu, rest assured, the Great Wei may perish, but I know that the Sima clan cannot perish, and we cannot perish."

Jia Chong finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Having regained his composure, Sima Zhao picked up the urgent report from the table and glanced at it briefly:
"Think about it carefully: Zhuge Ke killed Sun Hong as soon as he came to power, and Sun Jun overthrew Zhuge Ke after taking the throne. With a young ruler and a suspicious state, powerful ministers fought each other. What will happen next?"

"Internal strife! The Wu Kingdom will inevitably face internal strife in the future. If Zhuge Ke and Sun Jun can do it, why can't others? Therefore, the people of Wu are too busy taking care of themselves to have the strength to plan for the north."

Jia Chong listened intently, without saying a word.

“If Feng Yongru keeps his promise, I will have two years to catch my breath; if he breaks his promise… the worst that can happen is that I will die sooner or later.”

"But the internal strife in Wu is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The more chaotic Wu is, the more Han will have to divert its attention to deal with it, and the safer Qing and Xu will be."

Jia Chong had just seen Sima Zhao looking disheartened and thought that the general had given up on himself.

He was somewhat bewildered by her words.

"Is the General planning to... sit back and watch the tigers fight, then seize the opportunity to profit from the chaos?"

Sima Zhao did not answer, but picked up the map from the table and slowly rolled it up.

The map shows the sea and land routes intersecting, with Qinghai and Xuzhou like a lone leaf hanging over the East China Sea, Liaodong like a lurking beast, and the Three Hans like scattered pearls.

“Gonglu,” he suddenly asked, “if you were Feng Yong, what would you most want to see right now?”

Jia Chong pondered, "Since Wu and Wei have been fighting each other, the Han state has been reaping the benefits."

“Wrong.” Sima Zhao shook his head. “What he most wanted to see was internal strife in Wu and a precarious peace in Wei.”

"Only in this way can he concentrate on digesting the Central Plains and Hebei, and once his foundation is solid, he can then conquer the whole country in one fell swoop."

He rolled up the drawing and tied the silk ribbon tightly:
"Therefore, holding onto Qing and Xu will only lead to certain death. We must find a way out while the Han state will not send troops for the next two years."

Where is the way out?

Sima Zhao didn't say anything, and Jia Chong didn't ask either.

But this mystery gradually became clear as the two Sima brothers returned in July.

In July, during the height of summer, the sun in Huaibei was extremely scorching, causing the willows along the official road to droop and their leaves to curl at the edges.

Sima Zhao stood under a simple umbrella—it was nothing more than a coarse linen cloth supported by two bamboo poles, without even being painted—his purple robe was soaked with sweat, some dark and some light, clinging to his back.

He squinted at the end of the official road, where heat waves rose and the scenery was distorted like reflections in water.

The new capital of Pengcheng was in its infancy, the palaces were not yet completed, and even the emperor's ceremonial guards were not yet fully assembled, let alone that of a great general like him.

"They're here!" the guard captain suddenly whispered.

At the edge of the distorted heatwave, a small, dusty horse caravan slowly emerged.

The horses were emaciated, the people were ragged, and half of them were injured. Two oxcarts loaded with goods followed behind the caravan.

After walking about a hundred paces, two riders stepped out from the crowd and rode straight towards them.

The rider stumbled as he landed, but Sima Zhao rushed forward to support him.

"Fourth brother, seventh brother!"

It was Sima Liang and Sima Jun, but they didn't seem to be the two brothers that Sima Zhao remembered.

When he left seven months ago, Sima Liang was still a scholar known for his "refined and elegant demeanor".

But the person in front of me—his dark blue casual clothes were stained with mottled white marks from sea salt, and the torn cuffs revealed a worn-out undershirt.

His face was tanned dark, his cheekbones were high, and his eye sockets were deep-set, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.

The most striking feature was his once meticulously trimmed long beard, now a messy knot, the tips of which were covered in grayish-white salt and grit, and most of it had turned white.

Sima Jun made Sima Zhao's heart tighten even more.

The seventh brother, known as the "most handsome and promising," now had his left arm slinged across his chest with burlap, the cloth seeping with dark brown bloodstains.

When he dismounted, his right leg was clearly unable to support his weight, and he only managed to stand by leaning on a sharpened oar.

“Brother…” Sima Liang began, his voice hoarse, “I have not failed in my mission.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a roll of sheepskin soaked in fish oil from his pocket and handed it to him.

Sima Zhao took the sheepskin, but instead of opening it, he stretched out his arms and embraced his two younger brothers, weeping uncontrollably.

"The Goguryeo king's handwritten letter, the Mahan king's letter of submission, and the wolf-tooth token of the Xianbei Buyao tribe... are all in the carriage."

Sima Liang took the opportunity to whisper in Sima Zhao's ear, "Liaodong... is in chaos."

Four words, seemingly light and casual, yet they sent a shiver down Sima Zhao's spine.

He suddenly hugged his two younger brothers even tighter: "Really?"

"King Mahan has received the seals of 'General Who Guards the East and Duke of Daifang.' He has pledged that if our Great Wei sends troops to attack Liaodong, Mahan is willing to serve as the vanguard by sea and jointly attack Liaodong."

"What about Goguryeo?"

"Goguryeo had been fighting with Liaodong for decades. When the palace official saw the document 'Gongsun Xiu's secret agreement with the Han state to jointly destroy Goguryeo,' he was furious."

Although Sima Liang was exhausted, his eyes still shone: "He is now convinced that Gongsun Xiu has surrendered to Han, and his determination to attack Liao is... to the death."

"There are also the eastern Xianbei tribes such as the Buyao and Duan tribes, who have long heard of the Han state's reputation for capturing slaves and are filled with fear. Now that my brother has promised to help me conquer Liaodong, we can live in Liaoxi forever. We will do our best to help them."

Sima Liang spoke rapidly, yet his breathing remained steady, "Gongsun Xiu is preoccupied with both ends, and I've heard he intends to send an envoy to Han to seek aid..."

At this point, Sima Liang reminded him, "Brother, we need to act quickly, otherwise, once Feng Yong realizes what's happening..."

Sima Zhao closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Hot wind carrying dust rushed into his lungs, making him want to cough, but the stale air that had been trapped in his chest for seven months was slowly exhaled with this breath.

He could almost hear the massive boulder in his heart crash into the deep pool with a deafening roar, creating a huge splash before slowly sinking to the bottom.

When he opened his eyes again, they were clear.

"Let's go back to the manor first." He released his grip, turned to his guards, and said, "Prepare hot soup, clean clothes, and millet porridge."

Back in the city, after settling the delegation that had returned from the sea, Sima Zhao sat alone in his study. After reading the documents brought back by the delegation, he slumped into his seat, trembling slightly.

It wasn't fear, but a long-suppressed ecstasy that had finally found a crack and was roaring to burst forth.

He closed his eyes, and the image of his father's withered face lying on the couch flashed through his mind. He remembered how his father, even in his serious illness, was still comforting him.
"Don't panic... I... have already made arrangements... Even if things fail... there is a way out... You... just follow the plan..."

Tears welled up in her eyes.

"My lord, I will certainly not let you down..."

At this moment, a voice outside the door interrupted Sima Zhao's thoughts:

"General, Wang Hai has been brought here."

Sima Zhao suddenly opened his eyes, stood up, wiped his eyes, quickly composed himself, and made his voice calm:
"Let him in."

Jia Chong led one person in.

The man was about thirty years old, with a dark complexion like a rock, and a scar running diagonally across his left cheek, from his brow bone to his jaw.

Although he had already taken a bath, he was clearly not used to wearing shoes, and he stood barefoot on the ground, his feet broad and calloused, yet his posture was as steady as a mountain.

The man stepped forward, clasped his hands in a salute, and said crisply, "This humble subject, Wang Hai, pays his respects to the Great General."

Wang Hai, grandson of the former Pirate King.

In the eleventh year of Jian'an, the pirate king's camp raided Donglai, but was defeated by Li Zheng.

His grandson, Wang Hai, led his remaining troops to occupy Shamen Island, and frequently traveled between Liaodong and the Three Hans.

Sima Zhao scanned him from head to toe, then suddenly asked, "How far is the sea route from Shamen Island to Tajin in Liaodong?"

“Three days with the wind, five days against the wind,” Wang Hai answered without hesitation. “If we go out to sea and circle around the Gongsun family’s navy, it will take an extra day and a half.”

"What is the size of your fleet?"

"Twelve large ships, all double-deckers, capable of carrying five hundred soldiers; sixty fast boats, skilled in harassment and reconnaissance."

"Celestial phenomena and ocean currents?"

"The Bohai Sea is often foggy in spring and hurricane-force in summer, with northerly winds favoring southward movement in autumn and winter. Tidal patterns, distribution of reefs, and sheltered harbors..."

Wang Hai paused, a hint of arrogance appearing on his scarred face. "I could draw this with my eyes closed."

Sima Zhao was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked:
"If I were to ask you to lead a fleet carrying 20,000 troops, 800 warhorses, and 150,000 shi of provisions to land at Tajin in Liaodong, how many ships would you need? How many days would it take to prepare?"

A gleam of light flashed in Wang Hai's eyes.

He clearly hadn't expected that General Sima would ask "how" instead of "whether or not".

He hesitated for a few moments, looking slightly troubled:

"General, I don't have that many ships."

“I have them.” Sima Zhao stared intently at him. “You came from the sea, so you should have seen that there are at least dozens of warships in the harbor, and they are all large ships.”

Cao Wei already had a fleet commander in Qingzhou, and its main military base was Buqi Port.

"If the general has enough ships... then at least a hundred, and they have to be large ships."

"Qingzhou has eighty large ships, plus your twelve, which is barely enough."

Wang Hai raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected Qingzhou to have so many ships: "If that's the case, it will take a month to prepare, but I have a condition."

"speak."

"After landing, Tajin Port will be under my jurisdiction, and 30% of the taxes will be collected within three years."

Wang Hai stared at Sima Zhao, his scar twitching slightly in the candlelight. "If the General grants my request, I will lead my brothers and swear to fight to the death for the General!"

The room was deathly silent.

Jia Chong frowned slightly, but Sima Zhao suddenly smiled.

He got up, walked around the table, and stood in front of Wang Hai.

“I can give you Tajin,” Sima Zhao said slowly, “but I want more than just Liaodong.”

"I need your fleet. In the future, it will be able to sail north to attack Goguryeo, sail east to intimidate the Three Hans, and sail south to defend against the invasion of Wu... Can you do that?"

For the first time, a serious expression appeared on Wang Haiba's face.

No wonder Qingzhou prepared so many large ships.

After a long while, he knelt on one knee, clasped his hands above his head:
"Wang Hai is willing to be the Great General... to open up the seas."

"Good!" Sima Zhao helped him up, turned around and took a bronze seal from the table. He turned it over, and the inscription on the seal read: "Commander of Zhenhai".

He threw it directly to Wang Hai:
"I had this seal cast long ago, and I'm just waiting for a capable person to make it. I hope you won't disappoint me."

"From this day forward, you shall be the Commandant of the Great Wei Sea Garrison, in charge of all affairs of the Qing and Xu naval forces in the outer seas."

"The fleet will be expanded to a hundred ships, and the military equipment and provisions will be provided by the Qingzhou government treasury. But I must make this clear beforehand: if we miss the spring flood season next year, we will not be able to take the Tajiang River..."

Before he could finish speaking, Wang Hai had already kowtowed deeply:

"If I fail to meet the deadline, I will bring my head upon myself!"

Sima Zhao nodded, signaling him to step back.

Wang Hai stood up, gripped the bronze seal tightly in his palm, turned and strode out, disappearing from sight.

The study returned to silence.

Jia Chong had some concerns:

"General, this man still retains his bandit-like nature; employing him would be extremely dangerous."

Sima Zhao walked back to his desk, bent down and stared at the "Map of Qing, Xu and Liaohai": "Gonglu, in this world, bandits are soldiers, and soldiers are bandits."

He pointed his finger and emphasized the two characters "Tajin":

"This is the escape route that the Grand Tutor paved for us... Now it seems that this is the only way we have."