Chapter 60: The Grand Sacrificial Ceremony |
"Your Highness, then this subject shall take his leave."
After everything had been decided and settled, Song Shi'an bowed to Wei Wusheng before turning to depart.
But suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.
Slowly turning around to look at the other man, a trace of hesitation appeared in his eyes.
"Shi'an, there are no taboos between you and me."
Seeing him hesitate to speak, Wei Wusheng said.
"To be Your Highness's blade, Shi'an is willing and takes pride in it."
Looking into his eyes, Song Shi'an said with particular seriousness: "A blade's sharpness is important, but if the hand wielding it is unsteady, it cannot kill."
If these words had come from anyone else, they would be an affront.
Through hardship and suffering, they must accept it gladly.
No one has ever dared make demands of their superior—that the lord's hand must be steady.
Yet Wei Wusheng was not angry.
He understood one thing very clearly.
This time, according to his strategy, the execution process would indeed be the most difficult. Song Shi'an, having taken power, would have to do many extremely difficult things.
But the most important person was not him.
It was Wei Wusheng.
If he couldn't withstand the pressure and sold out Song Shi'an midway when imperial wrath came crashing down, then everything would be nothing but empty talk.
What would remain of "let the floods come after I'm gone"?
Song Shi'an truly needed a sense of security.
He had a comprehensive plan, and no matter what, he would stake his life on carrying it out.
If they lost—
"My plan failed, it was simply fate."
At worst, he'd curse the heavens.
But if his teammate backstabbed him, dumped all the blame on him, and cut him loose midway, then Wei Wusheng—your driftwood won't be safe either, you know.
Song Shi'an needed absolute trust.
Gazing at him, after a very long moment, Wei Wusheng suddenly called out loudly: "Someone come."
Song Shi'an froze for a moment.
This guy, he's not going to arrest me, is he?
The next moment, a personal guard entered, cupping his fists in salute: "Your Highness."
"Fetch a pot of wine and two cups."
Wei Wusheng ordered.
"Yes, Your Highness." The guard, who absolutely had to obey orders, first clenched his fist in acknowledgment, then raised his head and reminded in a small voice, "But Your Highness, drinking is not permitted in the military camp."
"Go get it."
Wei Wusheng said without hesitation.
This action actually earned some goodwill from Song Shi'an.
Not that this small violation could demonstrate his determination.
But one could see the larger picture from small details.
After a while, the guard entered carrying a pot of wine. He placed the wine on the table, then pulled out two wine cups from his pocket. Using his already not-so-clean sleeve, he wiped them.
Military camps were austere. Even generals had to keep somewhat low-key, so there wasn't much ceremony.
"Withdraw. Don't allow anyone to enter, except for Xinyue." Wei Wusheng said.
"Yes."
So that girl is called Xinyue.
But what Song Shi'an was more concerned about was what His Highness was being so mysterious about. If they were going to talk, just talk—why bring out the wine?
All this affectation, hard to deal with.
In front of Song Shi'an, at the table, Wei Wusheng arranged the wine cups. Then he poured the Lang liquor into the cups, filling them nearly to the brim.
Song Shi'an approached.
The next moment, Wei Wusheng suddenly drew his sword from his waist.
For an instant, Song Shi'an instinctively wanted to dodge. But he forcibly transformed it into a composed posture, not moving a muscle, as if he were quite profound.
"Minister Song, please."
Taking the initiative, he pushed the sword horizontally before Song Shi'an.
"Your Highness honors me beyond measure. Shi'an is willing to repay with death."
Taking the sword, Song Shi'an didn't even blink as he drew it across his palm, cutting a gash.
Then his palm tilted downward.
Thick blood flowed down his fingers in a slow stream, dripping into the wine cup. It instantly dispersed, dyeing the clear Lang liquor with a layer of crimson.
Both cups of wine were the same.
Immediately after, Song Shi'an handed it to him.
His Highness was even more decisive. Before the blood could slide off the smooth blade, he drew it across directly.
The blood of both men merged in the wine cups, turning the original transparency into something deeper.
Then the two each picked up the cup before the other.
Each other's.
They drank it all in one gulp.
"If you do not betray me, I will not betray you."
Wei Wusheng knew that words alone could never give him absolute security.
Then, let there be blood.
"This subject thanks Your Highness!"
After Song Shi'an's final cupped-fist salute, he resolutely left.
Very quickly, Xinyue walked in.
Seeing the blood on Wei Wusheng's hand, she pulled out a clean bandage she carried with her for dressing wounds and handed it to him.
Taking the bandage, his expression unchanged and the corners of his mouth still carrying a smile, Wei Wusheng casually wrapped it while murmuring: "Song Shi'an, are you my blade? Or am I yours?"
Rapidly returning to his quarters, the first thing Song Shi'an did after washing his wound with clean water was immediately apply lime water for sterilization and disinfection. Finally, he wrapped the wound with clean bandages, round and round.
At the same time, he muttered curses: "Dammit, you'd better be clean and healthy."
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The next day at dawn, troops assembled at the training grounds.
As they prepared the cattle and sheep for sacrifice, the Prince of Zhongping in the corner moved close to the Prince of Jin's side, lowering his voice to speak quietly: "Just the day before, Zhao Yi and Ye Changqing went everywhere gathering money. There were also constant comings and goings of carriages and horses at the Prince of Wu's estate. In the end, all the money, grain, and cloth entered the military camp."
"I know."
The Prince of Jin's intelligence network was naturally more extensive than the Prince of Zhongping's. The moment money was being gathered, he had already received the intelligence.
"Yesterday, it was all distributed to the families of those accompanying the army this time." Wei Yiyuan said with some gravity. "Fourth Brother, under what name was this military reward given?"
"Naturally it couldn't be from the court."
The Prince of Jin judged.
"Then doing it privately yet keeping it quiet, deliberately restraining themselves?" Wei Yiyuan asked knowingly. "What is Fourth Brother up to?"
The Prince of Jin's expression darkened as he said: "Even our scouts know about this matter—how could His Majesty not know?"
"Then he's clearly competing." Gripping the Prince of Jin's arm, Wei Yiyuan said with extreme seriousness: "Fourth Brother doing this is provoking you, Second Brother."
"Let's see what His Majesty does."
The Prince of Jin was indeed provoked, but still remained calm as water: "If His Majesty says nothing, then it's favoritism toward us. If he commends Zisheng, we can also donate money and grain—what's wrong with that?"
"Always a step behind Fourth Brother in everything, constantly being preempted by him at every turn—why is this happening?"
Wei Yiyuan was clearly anxious.
Then the Prince of Jin placed his hand on his shoulder, speaking earnestly: "Zishang, don't be hasty. Not making mistakes is making the right move. Trust Second Brother, all right?"
Wei Yiyuan closed his eyes, pressed his lips together, took a deep breath, then averted his gaze. Clenching his fists, he said with displeasure: "Yes."
"Your Highness, the sacrifice is beginning."
After the two princes had finished talking and had both fallen silent, Director of the Imperial Observatory Sima Yu walked over and spoke.
The Prince of Jin smiled slightly and nodded, extending one hand: "Director Sima, please."
"Your Highness, please."
The two thus ascended the altar together.
One thousand Imperial Guards—it sounded insignificant. But when a thousand people gathered together, especially all in black armor, neat and uniform, it was still a dark mass.
Standing on the platform, the Prince of Jin was just about to turn for the sacrifice.
Suddenly, he noticed Wei Wusheng at the front of the army.
Then Song Shi'an in the first row behind him.
By coincidence, both men's left hands were wrapped round and round with bandages.
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