Chapter 53: Walking Toward the Court |
"You may leave."
After Wei Wusheng dismissed the maidservant, he sat down in his seat with only Xinyue remaining before him.
"There's no way to know what Song Shi'an is truly thinking." Wei Wusheng pondered. "But here in the capital, it wouldn't be quite appropriate for me to approach him proactively."
"As long as we're going to Shuofeng together, there will be opportunities to converse along the way," Xinyue said.
"On this journey, the Imperial Guards officers accompanying the army will be personally led out of the city by me, so we'll have plenty of time together and can build trust. But as for the generals and officials in Shuofeng, I've basically never had any contact with them... Even though I'm a prince, without any experience in governance or military command, they probably won't be convinced by me—at least not in their hearts."
"But Your Highness has the Emperor's appointment. If they disobey, you can exercise the power of command and prohibition," Xinyue said.
"That's true, but for some matters, if I handle them directly, the results will be far worse."
After contemplating, Wei Wusheng raised his head and said, "I urgently need trusted confidants. If Song Shi'an came for me, why couldn't he become one of my confidants?"
It wasn't that others couldn't be used.
"Does he really have genuine talent and learning?" Xinyue said with some uncertainty. "Leading troops in battle—without experience, it's completely impossible."
"No."
Wei Wusheng shook his head and proposed, "I believe the core of defending the city this time isn't in 'warfare,' but in 'governance.'"
After he said this, Xinyue gradually understood.
"How to utilize every limited resource we have to resist Qi—this is the key."
Wei Wusheng wasn't merely filled with passionate fervor.
After volunteering himself, he had begun planning in earnest.
And he'd reached a conclusion—politics comes first, military matters second.
"Then he might indeed be that kind of talent," Xinyue said.
Even if their first meeting hadn't been particularly pleasant.
"On this journey,"
Gripping the hilt of the sword at his waist, Wei Wusheng was already somewhat impatient to meet with Song Shi'an: "Our lives and deaths are already bound together."
………
"Sir, this is...?"
At the Scholar's Inn, seeing a man dressed in fine silk robes coming upstairs, the server immediately approached with a welcoming smile.
"Where is Song Shi'an staying?"
"Sir, are you looking for Laoye Song?" The server looked him over and asked, "May I ask who you are?"
"Song Jing."
The man said expressionlessly.
Hearing this, the server was still confused when the innkeeper rushed over, asking somewhat anxiously, "Is this Fūjūn Song?"
Although the Sheng'an Magistrate wasn't a top-tier official, within the capital's sphere, the name of the capital's city magistrate definitely had high circulation.
Especially for those in the service industry—they absolutely had to know.
What if they got shut down someday?
"Yes," Song Jing said coldly.
"Young Master Shi'an isn't at the inn right now. He should have gone out and might return later..." the innkeeper explained.
"Which room is his?"
"..." After a brief hesitation, the innkeeper extended his hand. "Then let this humble one lead you there."
Thus, Song Jing was led to Song Shi'an's room.
Just as the innkeeper was about to leave, Song Jing casually tossed out a small pouch of silver.
"This is too much for this humble one, Laoye Song. If you're staying here, how could we dare accept payment?"
The innkeeper, catching the money with both hands, immediately declined and tried to return it.
"What's this?"
Song Jing's brow furrowed as he asked in return, "Are there court officials who stay without paying? What's his name?"
"No, no, that's not it." The innkeeper frantically waved his hands. "What this humble establishment means is that with the jieyuan laoye staying here, our inn's business will be even better after the examinations. We're grateful—it's too late for that."
"Take it. Don't tell him I came."
Song Jing paid no further attention to the man and sat down directly in the room.
The other party also sensibly left, closing the door behind him.
Song Jing surveyed his surroundings, then picked up a novel called Fragrant Night from the table. After flipping through a few pages, he disdainfully tossed it aside: "Tch."
Then he simply waited in the guest room.
For a long, long time.
"That day's loneliness, loneliness..."
Holding a novel and steamed buns wrapped in oil paper, Song Shi'an pushed open the door and immediately froze.
Looking at Song Jing sitting in his room, he stood stunned for quite a while before slowly opening his mouth: "Father, you've come."
"Where have you gotten money these past few days?" Song Jing asked. "You haven't been asking the innkeeper for it, have you?"
"My mother brought it for me," Song Shi'an answered honestly.
"Before your mother brought it to you? Those first few days—where did that money come from?"
"Wang Shuishan gave it to me," Song Shi'an explained. "He's also a juren who became a household registration clerk in the capital. After he went back to report to his father, he'll return to Sheng'an in a few days for his appointment ceremony. I'll pay him back then."
Generally speaking, being a clerk in the capital was particularly difficult—only those with family backgrounds could arrange such positions.
But not entirely.
After all, those above also needed truly capable people to do the work. They couldn't recruit only young masters. His essay on investigating aristocratic families' population registers had caught the eye of the household registration office's chief official, who recognized his talent in this area and specifically requested him.
There was no way to change the overall environment, but "we of this generation must strive for strength" was definitely right.
"Come here," Song Jing said to Song Shi'an.
Song Shi'an walked over and set down the buns.
He also set aside the newly purchased novel without any trace of shame.
You're not even avoiding me?
Song Jing felt that Song Shi'an had truly changed. Reading this kind of novel without any fear of being reproached?
You don't understand—this is called a compliance test.
Do it enough times and you'll become numb to it eventually.
Facing Song Jing, Song Shi'an met his gaze for a while. Seeing that the other party hadn't spoken, he took the initiative: "Father, I'm going to Shuofeng."
These few words landed heavily in Song Jing's heart.
Actually, when Song Shi'an left home in the middle of the night, he'd already guessed.
In the afternoon, he'd also heard that the Secretariat had posted the announcement.
But hearing him say it out loud still felt unbearably heavy.
Shuofeng—no one could hold it.
If the court fought desperately to save it, there might still be some possibility.
But sending only a thousand additional Imperial Guards was undoubtedly a drop in the bucket.
"Tell Mother for me. Comfort her, then tell her I will definitely come back," Song Shi'an requested.
"Definitely come back?"
Song Jing raised his head, looking at his son standing before him, and said solemnly, "Do you understand what you're about to face?"
"Yes."
"You're just a county magistrate. What can you possibly influence?"
"Father," Song Shi'an said earnestly, "the Sixth Prince has never governed or commanded troops. He has no trusted confidants. If I approach him, he will definitely place complete trust in me."
"I guessed you would think this way."
That he understood politics so well surprised Song Jing somewhat. But thinking carefully, the political maneuvering and balancing in Strategy for Military Farming was all politics.
But he still didn't approve of this attitude of gambling one's life for wealth and status.
Looking at this son he hadn't had time to truly understand, who might never be seen again, Song Jing finally softened: "Shi'an, it took your father twenty years to walk from private school to the court. You—why such haste?"
Facing his anxious inquiry, Song Shi'an's eyes held only determination:
"Your son will not disgrace Father's illustrious name."
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