Han Ji

Chapter 155 Substituting One Thing for Another

Jian Yong was silent for a moment, then nodded emphatically: "I'll go."

"Remember," Liu Bei stared at him, "your task is not to help Ma Fan, but to urge him to rebel. Give him money, give him a righteous cause, make him feel that the opportunity is not to be missed. Then, before the fire starts, get out of there, don't get involved, Zhang Wu will protect your safety."

"I see."

With the layout completed to this point, the basic framework is now in place.

But there is still one crucial link.

Xun Cai then asked, "Husband, after we set the fire, what should we do in Hanzhong?"

Liu Bei walked back to the map and pointed his finger from Hanzhong to Yizhou.

"Once the fire starts, Yizhou will inevitably descend into chaos. Xi Jian is incompetent and cannot hold it. Upon receiving the report, the court will certainly send troops to quell the rebellion. Sending troops from Luoyang is a long and costly journey. The eunuchs will be the first to object. There will also be resistance to transferring troops from Jingzhou and Guanzhong." He paused, "At this time, our memorial should arrive."

He looked at Jian Yong: "Xianhe, before you set off, help me draft a memorial. The tone should be earnest and indignant. Write that I, Liu Xuande, as a member of the Han imperial family, am extremely anxious to see the chaos in Yizhou and am willing to personally lead the troops of Hanzhong to extinguish this fire for Your Majesty and recover the prefectures and counties."

Jian Yong noted down: "When will the memorial be sent?"

"Once the news of Ma Xiang's uprising reaches Nanzheng, send it immediately by express courier," Liu Bei said. "At the same time, send a secret letter to Lu Shi to ask him to help deliver the message, and also... send Zhang Rang a generous gift and ask him to put in a good word for you."

"Zhang Rang?" Guan Yu frowned. "A eunuch..."

"Eunuchs are human too," Liu Bei waved his hand. "He loves money, so we'll give him money. As long as he whispers in Emperor Ling's ear that Liu Xuande is nearby in Hanzhong and can be used, our opportunity will come."

Xun Cai nodded slightly: "To cut off the fuel supply from under the cauldron and turn the tables. Although your plan is risky, if it succeeds, we will have Yizhou in our hands."

Liu Bei turned around and looked at the leaping fire in the charcoal brazier.

"In this world, nothing can be accomplished without taking risks."

He paused, then lowered his voice.

"Liu Yan wants to be the oriole, waiting for the mantis to stalk the cicada. Well then... let's be the slingshot and shoot the oriole down first."

Inside the sealed room, the firelight flickered.

The reflection showed seven faces, each with a different expression, but their eyes gradually hardened.

Outside the window, the wind picked up again.

The wind blows over the city walls of Nanzheng, over the frozen surface of the Mian River, and towards Mianzhu in the southwest.

There was a pile of dry firewood there, but it hadn't been lit yet.

But it will be soon.

It was the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month, late at night.

The snow stopped, and the moon peeked out from the clouds, a pale crescent hanging over the west corner tower of Nanzheng City. The moonlight shone on the snow, reflecting a cold light. The streets were deserted, save for the sound of the night watchman's clapper, striking once, then pausing, its echoes carrying far in the silence.

Deep within the military camp, in an inconspicuous mud-brick house, the light was still on.

There was no fire in the room, and it was as cold as an ice cellar. Jian Yong sat at a broken wooden table, on which were spread several items: a pair of fish-shaped jade pendants, a blank piece of silk cloth, a bronze talisman, and a stack of hemp paper with his handwriting copied from Liu Jun's.

He held a fine-tipped brush in his hand, the tip dipped in ink, hovering over the paper for a long time without falling.

The pen tip is trembling.

It's not that I'm cold, it's that my hands won't obey me.

Jian Yong took a deep breath, put down his pen, rubbed his hands together, and breathed out warm air. His fingers were stiff with cold, and his knuckles were red.

He picked up his pen again, held his breath, and wrote on the hemp paper: "General Ma Xiang: The matter is urgent, and a face-to-face meeting is not possible. There has been a change in the court, and Yizhou is about to change hands. Please rise quickly..."

"6

As I wrote this, the pen tip slipped, and the last stroke of the character "起" (qi) was elongated, causing the ink to smudge.

obsolete.

Jian Yong crumpled the paper into balls and threw them into the bamboo basket at his feet. The basket was already half full of crumpled paper.

He stared at the pair of jade pendants for a long time.

The jade was fine jade; moonlight filtered through the window cracks, shining on it and giving it a warm, lustrous sheen. The Yin Jade was in his hands, and the Yang Jade was with Ma Xiang. As long as they matched, Ma Xiang would believe them.

But what if?

What if Ma Xiang is suspicious and insists on seeing Liu Jun in person? What if there's someone perceptive by his side who can see through his ruse?

Jian Yong dared not think any further.

The door was gently pushed open, and a blast of cold air rushed in.

Qian Zhao slipped in and closed the door behind him. He was wearing a black cloak with the brim pulled low, and there were a few specks of snow on his face.

"Xianhe," he said in a low voice, "how's your handwriting practice going?"

"It's alright." Jian Yong smiled wryly. "It's easy to get the form right, but Liu Jun has a habit of making vertical strokes with a hook, and the hook is very thin. I've practiced for two days, but I'm still a little short of getting it right."

Qian Zhao picked up a piece of scrap paper and looked at it.

"That's enough," he said. "Ma Xiang isn't a scholar; he won't see such details. As long as the jade pendant and bronze tally match, and the code works, he won't suspect anything."

"I hope so." Jian Yong rubbed his temples. "Is the money ready?"

"Three million, all exchanged for gold ingots, packed into boxes." Qian Zhao paused, "The boxes were double-layered, with gold ingots at the bottom and copper coins and scraps of cloth on top to conceal their contents. In addition, ten ring-pommel swords and twenty bows were also prepared, all old military equipment, with the serial numbers ground off so their origin cannot be traced."

Jian Yong nodded and picked up his pen again.

"I'll practice some more."

Qian Zhao didn't leave; she sat down on the only bed in the room and watched him practice.

The room was quiet, with only the sound of pen nibs scratching on wooden slips and the suppressed breathing of the two people.

After about half an hour, Jian Yong finally wrote a satisfactory one.

"The road is far and I cannot reach you, so I sigh; why do I harbor such worries and anxieties?" He wrote these two lines of poetry on the upper right corner of the silk cloth, a pre-arranged coded mark. Then came the main text: "General Ma Xiang: The matter is urgent, and a face-to-face meeting is not possible. There has been a change in the court, and Yizhou is about to change hands. I urge you to rise up quickly. On the fifteenth of the first month, gather the crowd, raise the flag, execute Xi Jian, seize the prefecture, and summon righteous men from all over the land. Subsequent support will include three million in gold, ten swords and ten bows, which will be personally delivered by my trusted confidant, Liu Yong. I hope you will not hesitate and will prepare immediately. On the day of success, we will share wealth and honor."

The inscription reads: "Respectfully submitted by Liu Jun, December 28th."

After finishing writing, he picked up Liu Jun's private seal, which he had found on Liu Jun's person, a small copper seal, and pressed it heavily onto the signature area.

The inkpad is specially made, dark red in color, like dried blood.

The silk cloth was left to dry on the table, and the ink slowly dried.

As Jian Yong looked at those lines of text, he suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

"Xianhe," Qian Zhao suddenly spoke.

Jian Yong looked up.

Are you scared?

Jian Yong was silent for a moment, then nodded: "A little."

"I'm scared too," Qian Zhao said. "But Big Brother is right. In this world, you can't survive without being ruthless. Liu Yan is more ruthless than us, so we have to be even more ruthless than him."

Jian Yong took a deep breath, carefully folded the silk cloth, stuffed it into a small oilcloth bag, and sealed it.

"When are we leaving?"

"On the third day of the first lunar month," Qian Zhao said, "the roads are less heavily guarded around the end of the year. You two will disguise yourselves as a merchant caravan and say you're smuggling salt from Hanzhong to Mianzhu. I've already picked two people, one named Chen Da and the other Zhao Er. They're both old troublemakers, and Zhang Wu will keep an eye on them."

Jian Yong tucked the oilcloth bag into his bosom and placed it close to his skin.

"How much do those two attendants know?"