Chapter 59: Your Highness, Fly Freely—Nine Generations Will Follow Forever |
Wei Wusheng's smile disappeared in an instant.
Song Shi'an's solemnity didn't seem like he was joking.
The two men's gazes remained locked on each other.
Slowly, Wei Wusheng descended from the platform. He passed by Song Shi'an's side, hesitating and pacing.
"Your Highness should know what I'm talking about."
Song Shi'an also turned to face Wei Wusheng, who seemed intent on avoiding him, but he wouldn't let him off so easily.
With lowered eyes, Wei Wusheng stopped in his tracks, still facing the empty air as he said: "On this expedition, only a miracle could allow us to hold. Do you know what I wish for, Minister Song?"
Song Shi'an said nothing.
"You know, but you don't dare say it."
This was common knowledge.
"His Majesty abandoned me in Hening Palace and never asked about me again. My birth mother was lowly, her family without power. After her death, the palace stipend and monthly allowances were cut off. The palace maids and eunuchs all left to serve other consorts. Only one old palace maid raised me. She scrimped and saved, spending money to find wet nurses in the palace. Only after the other princesses had finished eating could I have any milk."
This was unknown to outsiders.
Song Shi'an lowered his head.
He hadn't expected that the Sixth Prince had also lived such a difficult life.
The palace absolutely wasn't being stingy—it was absolute awe of the Emperor.
No one dared to guess the Emperor's thoughts, so they could only follow his displayed attitudes.
Who would dare not issue the monthly allowances and stipends?
His Majesty had been too ruthless to the child of the curse.
Or rather, emperors in ancient times were basically all twisted.
Emperor Wen of Han, who was praised so highly, could also be said to have been heartless and cruel to his offspring and harem, his methods no less brutal than this Emperor of Yu.
"Later, it was the consort of the late Emperor, Old Imperial Consort Zhang, who took me into her palace."
Speaking of that woman who was not his biological grandmother but better than one, a trace of longing emerged in Wei Wusheng's tone: "Perhaps His Majesty had forgotten about such a 'Wusheng' and didn't interfere. After I grew up, Old Imperial Consort Zhang sent me to the Imperial Academy to study with the masters. Until now, I've also lived in wealth."
Of course, the Emperor still hadn't taken Wusheng seriously.
At twenty-two years old, by rights his children should already be attending elementary school.
Song Shi'an was different. Although he was also over twenty, he was purely a wastrel.
Plus, with Song Jing's intentions, after he passed the juren examination, the family could manipulate things and choose a "suitable match" for marriage.
"If not for this expedition, His Majesty and I would still have never had a single conversation."
Slowly turning his head to look at Song Shi'an, he said coldly: "If I head north and die in battle at Shuofeng, His Majesty will certainly lead the court officials in a state funeral with princely honors."
This was Wei Wusheng's wish.
Song Shi'an remained silent.
"Minister Song."
Wei Wusheng stared into his eyes and demanded: "On this journey, if we follow your methods but still fail to hold the city, then will I die bearing mountains of guilt?"
"Yes."
Song Shi'an gave him a definitive answer.
But the reason he said this was because the person who had to shoulder this 'crime punishable by extermination of nine generations'—besides Wei Wusheng, there was no one else.
His birth mother was dead, and she came from common origins with no backing whatsoever.
With his imperial clan status, no matter how much trouble was caused, at most it would just shake the nation's foundation, the people of Liang Prefecture would rebel, the Great Yu would be in peril—nothing more.
As if they could actually exterminate Wei Wusheng's nine generations?
What would be the only loss?
Just that after death, there would be no state funeral with princely honors, he couldn't enter the imperial tombs, he wouldn't receive his father's recognition—that's all.
An extremely minor matter.
But such minor matters, in ancient times at certain moments, could be extremely troublesome.
To die for reputation, to die for one's sovereign.
That's what they called this invisible yet divinely sacred thing.
"Your Highness." Song Shi'an showed no fear whatsoever and immediately countered: "If we do hold it, won't everything be wiped clean?"
Political struggles in ancient times weren't about whose son frequented brothels a few times, who had an affair with his sister-in-law, or even who embezzled hundreds of thousands of silver taels, who colluded with enemy nations—such things could become leverage to put opponents to death.
Those who first study history often have some doubts: why could the emperor tolerate even such people? Why, after doing such things, could they still avoid execution? Was the emperor completely deceived, knowing nothing?
Wasn't Minister Sun arrogant?
Right in front of the Emperor, he insulted a noble's son as a 'bastard.'
Why didn't the nobles and the Emperor put him to death?
They couldn't.
And there was no need.
Similarly,
As long as they could hold Shuofeng, make Ji Yuan retreat, temporarily preserve the peace, and buy time for a counteroffensive, even if Wei Wusheng killed so many 'loyal ministers' in Northern Liang that his blade grew dull—
Afterward, upon reckoning, all those he killed would turn out to be traitors to the nation.
This was the grand momentum.
"You're right."
Wei Wusheng also acknowledged Song Shi'an's words.
But he was still hesitating.
"Why can't we return with glory? Why must it necessarily be a valiant sacrifice?" Song Shi'an questioned again.
"Speak."
Wei Wusheng was now completely curious about Song Shi'an's strategy.
Slowly bowing with cupped hands, deeply respectful. Then, Song Shi'an told this prince his entire series of plans.
Without any reservations.
And as he listened, Wei Wusheng couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat.
Looking at this person, he felt that the other wasn't just arrogant.
He was also somewhat extreme.
But what was extremely painful was that these clearly treasonous words...
He could actually completely understand them.
Even more, he was moved.
"His Majesty has given Your Highness only one thousand Forbidden Army troops. Among your subordinate soldiers, fewer than ten thousand are fit. The resources you can mobilize are only one commandery... no, half a commandery."
After summarizing at last, Song Shi'an said: "With only this, how can we oppose Ji Yuan?"
"But if we take such actions, what about your nine generations?" Wei Wusheng asked.
Never mind all this other stuff.
"Therefore, only Your Highness can shoulder this burden. It's not that I'm unwilling—I'm simply not qualified to shoulder it."
"Indeed." Wei Wusheng suddenly said with somewhat dark humor: "I originally thought you meant there might be crimes that could implicate nine generations. Turns out each one listed separately could warrant extermination of nine generations once over."
"The nine generations could also become wealthy and prosperous because of this."
"I need you to convince me one last time."
Wei Wusheng raised his hand, continuing to interview him.
The reasons were already quite sufficient.
These methods he spoke of could be said to have a considerable probability of holding the city and waiting for Ji Yuan to retreat, as long as they could be fully implemented.
Of course, the key lay in the process.
The most difficult part was also the process.
"Dying in battle for one's country is the greatest honor. Even if there were offenses during life, a sincere heart cannot be tarnished."
This meant dying for one's country reduced one's crimes by a degree.
Even if you were a fucking idiot, as long as your final outcome was death in battle, your sins during life could be erased as much as possible.
"No, no."
Wei Wusheng waved his hand, saying: "If we approach it with such a mindset, I'm afraid we cannot accomplish these heaven-defying great deeds."
Hearing him say this, Song Shi'an smiled.
Then he gave him the most powerful reason:
"After I die, who cares if floods engulf the world."
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