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墨書 Inktalez
I taught Suda some simple Disguise Techniques to make her journey easier during the march. Although it wasn't a major issue, it was best not to expose her true identity. Otherwise, Huan Wen might feel deceived.
Once everything was prepared, the day of departure arrived. That day, the Emperor, along with his ministers and several consorts, gathered to bid farewell to the heroes of the nation.
I looked up at the sky; it was clear and bright, with a gentle breeze—a perfect sunny day in Jiangnan. Yet, what awaited them? Historically, there were no records of a successful first rebellion. Their mission would undoubtedly be difficult and destined for failure. I couldn't bear to see this, but I had to choose silence. I couldn't imagine what would happen if I spoke out—would I be accused of treason? Or would they think I was mad, spreading rumors?
History flows inevitably; my presence should not alter any part of it. Nor should it be changed. I didn’t know what consequences that might bring. Perhaps it would lead to lifelong regret; I couldn’t take that risk.
As Huan Wen stepped onto the stage to bid farewell to the Emperor, who then spoke words of victory to encourage the troops, I handed Suda over to him and said lightly, "Keep her close and take good care of her, as well as yourself. Come back alive." I knew he understood what my words implied—deep expectations and concern.
Huan Wen looked puzzled but ultimately said nothing, just nodded in agreement. "Alright." It was strange, yet because it was her—because she was someone I cared for—he unconditionally accepted all her requests.
"Thank you," I whispered.
He nodded in response, his face bearing a resolute and tragic air of a warrior departing for battle. Without hesitation, he turned and left. Suda smiled gratefully at me before following him without looking back.
I watched them go, feeling a mix of relief and worry. I feared for their safety. But this was Huan Wen's choice, as well as Suda's. And I chose to trust and respect them.
Though I believed he would return alive—perhaps even achieve minor victories—this side represented justice. However, their forces were limited while Su Jun had allied with several princes, making them formidable. Particularly Su Jun's son-in-law, the Sixth Prince, was one of the most powerful lords after the Emperor himself. The rebel forces were strong; Huan Wen could not achieve total victory given the vast disparity in strength.
This was not the Battle of Red Cliffs nor the Battle of Guandu; it certainly wasn't the ancient Battle of Julu either. Those required favorable conditions; now was not the right time to create a so-called Miracle.
"Don't worry; they will return safely," a warm voice suddenly appeared beside me, almost like a dream.
I looked at him, who seemed different, and felt a bit uneasy. I nodded and turned my face away, choosing not to speak.
Watching him grow increasingly haggard, as if he had aged significantly overnight, even forgetting to shave, I felt a pang of sympathy. He toiled day and night, discussing strategies to repel the enemy with various ministers, and it was inevitable that he bore some worry. If there was still no countermeasure in place, and if Huan Wen could not hold out much longer, the enemy would soon invade Jiankang City.
Perhaps I should do something.
Night fell. The silence was profound.
Bored and restless, I climbed into Li Jiu's dilapidated house once again.
To my surprise, Shaoshao was also there so late at night. After recovering from his illness, he seemed like a different person—calm and composed. This teenager began to analyze the current situation with a level-headedness that belied his age. He clearly understood the crisis at hand, unlike some of the pedantic ministers who only knew how to flatter the strength and inviolability of the dynasty.
"Mother, you're here," Shaoshao said, his previously serious expression brightening upon seeing me.
"It's been a while," I replied lightly.
Li Jiu nodded faintly. "Yes. It has been a while."
Then we all fell silent. I found a comfortable spot to sit down and gestured for them to continue their discussion without minding me. Li Jiu poured tea for me, and they resumed their conversation without hesitation.
I sat quietly for a while, sipping tea and listening intently to their discussion. They analyzed the situation with clarity, similar to what I knew; however, people of this era were still constrained by many limitations in their thinking and lacked a broader perspective. Nevertheless, much of what they said made sense. If they lived in modern times, I believed their insights would be even more refined. Perhaps this crisis could be easily resolved.
For some reason, I suddenly recalled what the third shogun of the Tokugawa shogunate, Tokugawa Iemitsu, once said: "It is not I who kills; it is politics that kills."
I just don't understand why those people are so fond of power, why they eagerly anticipate that Highest Position, and even go to great lengths to compete for it.
Isn't it quite a sense of achievement for them to seize something that doesn't belong to them, fueling their ambition and desires?
Finally, I took a sip of Clear Tea and lightly interrupted the two who were focused on their discussion: "Break them one by one."
They looked at me in confusion. I found a comfortable position and began to explain.
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