Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Trap Is Set

If not for the presence of an enlightened sovereign, ancient dynasties often displayed a peculiar phenomenon: many crucial matters would not be reported to the emperor first. And if the emperor happened to be one disinterested in the affairs of state, there was even less hope. As it happened, Emperor Huizong, Zhao Ji, was precisely such a man.

Zhao Yu’s audacious actions in Jiangnan were swiftly, both openly and covertly, relayed to the capital. Some censors even had their memorials drafted, ready to impeach Zhao Yu. Yet these discord-sowing memorials never even reached the throne—either Cai Jing intercepted them, or Liang Shicheng and Li Yan deliberately concealed them. From beginning to end, Emperor Huizong remained entirely ignorant of Zhao Yu’s doings in Jiangnan.

Nevertheless, Zhao Yu’s conduct clearly threatened the interests of Liang Shicheng, Zhu Mian, and their ilk. Zhu Mian had not yet left the capital, and upon hearing the news, he rushed to Liang Shicheng’s residence as though his tail had been set alight, eager to plot their response.

Wang Fu’s facial wounds had mostly healed, but his resentment festered undiminished. The three, united by mutual malice, were hardly likely to devise any clever scheme together.

Yet not even in his dreams did Liang Shicheng suspect that Zhao Yu’s network had already reached into his very household. Several of his servants and gardeners had already been turned.

“Master of the Graceful Residence, such a grave matter must be memorialized to His Majesty! This Prince Yi is growing far too arrogant!”

“Indeed, Lord Liang, His Majesty is fond of granite, and now that Prince Yi has disrupted the collection of tribute in Jiangnan, how am I to answer to His Majesty?”

“Hmph! Shortsighted fools. If His Majesty learns of Prince Yi’s actions, at worst he’ll recall him with a single edict. That will do him no real harm. But that’s not what we want.”

Stung by Liang Shicheng’s rebuke, Wang Fu and Zhu Mian were reluctant, but they understood. Wang Fu frowned. “Master of the Graceful Residence, we cannot simply let him continue to stir up trouble in Jiangnan unchecked.”

Liang Shicheng’s lips curled with a sly smile. “Rest assured. Someone is already digging a pit for him in Jiangnan. You need only wait and see.”

There is never any shortage of blundering allies in this world, and Wang Fu was a prime example. Had he any sense, he would never have committed the folly of driving out a high-ranking official from the Secretariat. Most people would know better than to press further in such a situation, but Wang Fu’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Master of the Graceful Residence, could you perhaps offer a hint, so I might be prepared?”

Liang Shicheng, with a touch of pride, replied, “No harm in telling you—there will soon be a great upheaval in Jiangnan. Once it erupts, you must rally all forces to impeach him, accuse him of causing a popular uprising.”

In the safety of his own home, Liang Shicheng never imagined there might be spies about, so he spoke without even lowering his voice.

Wang Fu and Zhu Mian, upon hearing this, finally understood—so it was a popular revolt, then!

The scene shifts once again to Yangzhou.

“Your Highness, a man outside the gate calling himself Wu Song requests an audience.”

Hearing the guard’s report, Zhao Yu, lounging on his recliner, was startled. After having the guard repeat himself, Zhao Yu could not suppress his excitement—he leapt up and dashed out.

He had dispatched men to find Wu Song, but they returned empty-handed. The party sent to Xiangzhou in search of Yue Fei likewise found nothing but news that Yue Fei had joined the army. Yet now, unexpectedly, Wu Song had come to him of his own accord.

At the same inn, officials queued at the gate, waiting to present their cards for an audience. As people gathered, the murmurs of speculation grew. Suddenly, someone called out, “Look! Prince Yi is coming out!”

The officials looked up to see Prince Yi himself, dressed in simple clothes and shuffling along in slippers, bursting out from the courtyard with a carefree laughter, looking for all the world like a madcap youth.

Receiving officials was always handled by Xu Jiang. After dealing with the acting prime minister at the yamen, Zhao Yu had simply been waiting—for news from the court, for Fang La’s response.

Because he was in the private quarters, Zhao Yu’s attire was exceedingly casual, his hair uncombed. To the uninitiated, he might have seemed a lunatic escaped from confinement.

Wu Song, though plainly dressed, possessed a powerful build and a fierce countenance. He stood there like a wild beast, poised to strike—no introduction was necessary.

“Brother Wu, at last you’re here! I’ve been awaiting you for so long!”

“Wu Song pays respects to Your Highness!”

Wu Song had barely begun his bow when Zhao Yu pulled him up. Wu Song could not help but wonder when he had become so familiar with this young prince, yet he was also moved. Lu Zhishen had been right—the prince truly was a man of feeling. Wu Song was glad he had come.

In fact, Wu Song had sought out Song Jiang first, but Song Jiang was away. After much hesitation, Wu Song decided to seek out Zhao Yu instead.

“Brother Wu, come in! Tonight we drink till we drop!”

Without waiting for consent, Zhao Yu dragged Wu Song inside. This was not the capital—propriety and royal image did not matter here.

The assembled officials outside were left astounded. Many even rubbed their eyes, unsure if they were seeing clearly. Some surreptitiously jotted down what they had witnessed—black marks for the future.

Still more were left wondering: who exactly was this ragged fellow?

Wu Song was by nature carefree. Seeing Zhao Yu’s affable manner, his initial reserve vanished. At Zhao Yu’s introduction, he clasped fists in greeting with Lin Chong and Yan Qing.

Zhao Yu was truly delighted to meet Wu Song. In this world, there was no “Pleasure Forest,” no “Blood at the Twin Swallows Pavilion.” The fates of these heroes beside him would all be rewritten. He was determined to use his own power to forge for them a brighter future.

What surprised Zhao Yu most was that Wu Song indeed had an elder brother, and his sister-in-law was named Pan Jinlian. But Wu Dalang was a handsome and talented man, presently at home studying for next year’s civil service exam. As for Pan Jinlian, she was as beautiful as the tales described, yet she was exceedingly virtuous and deeply devoted to her husband.

Though everyone loves a bit of gossip, people prefer to think the best of others.

Zhao Yu had only two young maids to attend him, and they spent most of their time in their rooms. Thus, everywhere one looked, Zhao Yu was surrounded by robust, rough-hewn men, which only served to reinforce Lu Zhishen’s assessment of him.

The food and wine soon arrived. Zhao Yu wished Lin Chong and Yan Qing to join them, but they adamantly refused. Helpless, Zhao Yu could only drink with Wu Song alone.

Lin Chong and Yan Qing were careful men. Zhao Yu, newly arrived in Jiangnan, had already offended a host of officials. No one could guarantee these men harbored no murderous intent, so vigilance was essential.

Among the outlaws of Liangshan, Wu Song loved his drink but was ever cautious and knew his place well. Thus, no matter how much Zhao Yu urged him, Wu Song remained clear-headed throughout.

“Brother Wu, I’ll speak plainly—I hope you’ll stay and aid me. This concerns not just your own future, but that of your brother as well.”

Wine is the bridge between men. After a few drinks, conversation flowed freely, but when Zhao Yu said this, his tone was earnest.

Wu Song cared nothing for currying favor with the powerful, but he valued brotherhood above all. Zhao Yu mentioned Wu Dalang precisely to remind Wu Song: if you follow Song Jiang, your brother will likely be implicated in the future.