Chapter One Hundred Eighteen: Overthrow (Part Three)

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When Hedi Shiye returned, he looked deeply troubled. Upon entering, he immediately saw Kang Laosi fondling a female entertainer, his eyes bloodshot. Having served three years in the military, encounters with women were rare—perhaps an exaggeration—but since their assembly in Little Bulu at the beginning of the year, they had not sought much pleasure. After half a year, restraint was difficult.

"Such ordinary merchandise could never catch the eye of two distinguished friends. If you like, better ones will be brought shortly," said Hedi Shiye.

At his words, Kang Laosi reluctantly let go. As the woman rose to leave, he unexpectedly pinched her, eliciting a shriek.

Hedi Shiye seemed not to notice the gesture. After the two entertainers left, leaving only the three men in the room, Kang Laosi calmly picked up the wine flask and poured a cup for him.

"Did the prince gain anything from this trip?"

"I sought out some acquaintances. It is certain that the Tang forces won; they have taken Bulu. But whether they have entered Xiangxiong remains unknown. The Tubo people merely claim ignorance without denial, which suggests the matter is more complicated than we understand."

Hedi Shiye sipped uneasily. Seeing his expression, Kang Laosi smiled and shook his head.

"Prince, do you find this troublesome?"

"Is it not?" Hedi Shiye was momentarily at a loss.

"If it is trouble, it is theirs," Kang Laosi said lightly. If one could not understand this, it meant no insight and was not worth befriending anyway—there were many princes besides the king’s son.

With that, Kang Laosi returned to his seat and resumed drinking with the Indian merchant, lightening the mood and giving the other some time.

They? Hedi Shiye stared blankly. He had only just met the Sogdian merchant, yet after a brief absence, he seemed a changed man, leaving him perplexed.

Of course, the obvious hint was clear to anyone: the ones tense about the arrival of the Tang were the kingdom’s rulers—the king, princes aspiring to the throne, nobles, and naturally, the Tubo people—these were "they" in Kang Laosi’s words.

What puzzled him was how the other could tell he was not one of them.

Following this train of thought, the two merchants’ sudden visit became more intriguing.

"You two came to Nepal, surely not merely for trade," he said, halting their conversation.

Kang Laosi smiled faintly. "As merchants, we always hope our friends advance further; that benefits both parties. Prince, do you not think so?"

Hedi Shiye raised his cup, silently clinking it with theirs before drinking it down.

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Decisions to advance or retreat were always difficult. The incompetent prince of Nepal had been stirred by one or several merchants from afar. For Feng Changqing, matters were even more daunting, for the path ahead was unknown—land the Tang, or Han, had never set foot upon.

He was no time traveler and cared little for making history; preserving what he had gained was far more tempting.

Progress came faster than imagined. After barely half a month of warfare, he had fulfilled the best pre-war predictions: capturing Greater Bulu and pushing Anxi’s territory significantly toward India. Such achievements assured him the postwar leadership of Anxi, a height once only dreamed of.

Only a few years prior, he was a disabled man without a role. Now he stood on the Tang dynasty’s most remote frontier, coveting even more distant lands.

Xiangxiong, known to the Han as "Yangtong," was an ancient kingdom known since the Han’s expansion into the Western Regions. Over a thousand years, it had gradually become a neighbor of the Tang.

The Tubo had been trying to conquer Xiangxiong for a century yet had not fully absorbed it. Their control resembled the Tang’s semi-colonial system in Anxi: stationed troops, diplomacy under control, but administrative power and commercial profits split half-and-half. This was costly and unstable.

The Tubo’s approach was due to population disadvantage; the Tang’s was because the lands were too remote, with few willing to relocate. Anxi was such, let alone the even farther Bulu.

Feng Changqing understood that extending beyond Greater Bulu to establish a military town like Guilin Army, housing two to three thousand garrison troops, was the limit. These men would come from Helong and Guanzhong, recruited with the expectation of returning in two or three years. But that was under the old militia system; now, no one was released before their hair grayed.

Looking down at the land, he recalled a poem by his old friend Cen Shen:

"Ten thousand miles serving the king,
Seeking nothing for oneself.
Knowing well the frontier’s hardship,
Yet not for wife or child."

No one truly sought nothing, especially these frontier soldiers serving a distant king. He sighed and turned around. Behind him, the battlefield had been cleared; vultures circled, searching for any unclaimed corpses—their favorite feast.

The Tang left no chance for plague. To prevent disease, all bodies, including those of the Tubo, were burned. Their own dead were jarred and sent back by the logistics division, while the Tubo’s were buried on site.

A skirmish and counter-skirmish had claimed nearly five thousand dead combined. The Tubo were routed; all their scouts and cavalry were dispatched to pursue the fleeing and gather intelligence.

On the day the tally was reported, the victory dispatch was sent out by an envoy, and everyone awaited his decision: to cease or press onward?

"I always knew the Deputy Commander would be here," a somewhat sharp voice interrupted his thoughts.

Feng Changqing looked up as the newcomer approached, offering a polite smile.

"An envoy seeks you. What is the matter?"

"I come with a question, hoping the Deputy Commander can clarify."

Li Jingzhong stopped about one and a half steps before him—close enough to be familiar, but not so near as to annoy. His appearance was not pleasing.

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It was the eleventh year of the Tianbao era; in two years he would change his name to Li Fuguo.

"Speak plainly if you have something to say," Feng Changqing said, looking at the unpleasant face without irritation, for he was no beauty himself.

"Congratulations on your great victory, Deputy Commander, but I wonder why one person is missing here. Is there something I do not know?"

Feng Changqing admired the eunuch’s perceptiveness and offered an unsurprised explanation: "Liu Guoyi’s men suffered heavy losses. I arranged for them not to participate in this battle. It is only natural that the envoy did not see them."

"I see," Li Jingzhong nodded knowingly. "Liu Guoyi’s valor amazed me. So young and promising—after this, Anxi has gained a new general. It is your good fortune."

"He is reckless and hardly worthy of praise," Feng Changqing replied cautiously, uncertain of his intentions.

Li Jingzhong seemed not to hear him, continuing: "I heard you were appointed because of the recommendation of former Gao Kaifu, who was promoted by Chancellor Li. You have both achieved great feats. When you return to the capital, you will surely become one of Chancellor Li’s trusted confidants."

Feng Changqing listened to these cryptic remarks, sensing an underlying meaning. This was no idle talk. Who was behind him?

Ordinarily, the military supervisors came from the palace and were loyal to the emperor. So why would the emperor send such hints to a frontier general? It made no sense.

That made things interesting.

"I have no dealings with Chancellor Li. As for Gao Kaifu, I know nothing."

"You are wise, Deputy Commander, so I will say no more. Chancellor Li is nearing old age. If you wish to avoid entanglement, you should stop here. Remember, too much is as bad as too little, yes?"

Having said this, Li Jingzhong turned to leave. After a few steps, he paused without looking back.

"The missing person I mentioned was not Liu Guoyi," he added.

Feng Changqing stood frozen, realizing the hint came from Chancellor Li’s adversary. In the court, few stood opposed to Li Linfu and had the power to dispatch envoys.

He felt an immense headache coming on.