Chapter 31: Another Storm Arises

There is an iron rule in the army: one must not gather for drinking without cause. So when Wei Ba said he needed to ask his father’s permission before inviting Fu Xing to a banquet, it was not mere protocol. In contrast, Wei Feng, seasoned by years of experience, made a direct request to Zhuge Liang to host a feast for Fu Xing. With Zhuge Liang’s approval, the matter could proceed with full confidence.

Once Wei Yan gave his consent and promised to attend, Wei Feng sprang into action. Having grown up under Wei Yan’s wing, he was used to his father’s prickly nature—always on the offensive, seldom making friends his own age. After so many years of loneliness, he finally had a new companion, and his joy was palpable. He specially sent people to fetch fine wine from Mianyang city, slaughtered a sheep, and prepared a lavish banquet, awaiting Fu Xing’s grand arrival.

Though Wei Ba had not been particularly sociable in his previous life, he was no stranger to the gatherings of colleagues. While he did not especially enjoy them, he was at least familiar with the atmosphere. Seeing Wei Feng’s excitement, he could not help but tease him. As for Wei Wu, from the moment the sheep was slaughtered, he squatted nearby, watching intently, as if the skinned carcass might leap up and escape at any moment. Wei Ba found it rather pitiful—being the son of the General Who Guards the North, yet caring so much about a single meal of mutton. Life was truly not easy.

In truth, the Wei family was far from impoverished. They owned a vast estate, workshops of every kind, and a retinue numbering in the tens of thousands. With Wei Yan’s stipends as Hanzhong Prefect and General Who Guards the North, plus the income from the Marquisate of Duting, and all under Lady Zhang’s expert management, their annual revenue was considerable. Yet so too were their expenses: there were many mouths to feed, especially the three thousand personal troops whose upkeep was extraordinary. To forge an ordinary soldier into a fierce warrior—particularly of the elite caliber of the Wei household’s fighters—demanded immense investment.

The bulk of the family’s income thus went into training these troops. Furthermore, though Wei Yan was harsh with outsiders, he was exceptionally generous to his subordinates, rewarding even the regular county soldiers from time to time. With such largesse, even a mountain of gold and silver would quickly be depleted. No wonder all the household stewards, like Steward Chen, racked their brains for ways to make money.

The wine was ready; the mutton simmered gently in the pot, filling the air with mouthwatering fragrance. Wei Wu could not help but swallow hungrily from time to time. But Fu Xing had not appeared, and even Wei Yan was growing impatient, eventually seeking out Wei Feng. “What’s going on? Look at the hour—why haven’t we begun? Where is Fu Xing? Has he not arrived yet?”

Wei Feng was at a loss. He glanced at the dusky sky. “He should be here soon.”

Wei Yan’s temper flared. “Absurd! Must I wait for a junior?”

Wei Ba grew worried, gazing at the undulating peaks of Yangping Mountain in the gathering dusk. Suddenly he said, “Father, elder brother—do you think Fu Xing might have been detained by Liu Yan and cannot come?”

“He wouldn’t dare!” Wei Yan blurted.

Wei Ba forced a smile, about to add more, when a bodyguard hurried in with a young female servant. Wei Ba fell silent at once. He did not recognize the girl, but her attire marked her as a laborer from the supply encampment. For someone from the supply camp to arrive urgently at this hour, and with such anxiety, it was surely not good news.

“Your servant greets the General Who Guards the North,” the girl said, catching sight of Wei Yan’s stormy face and dropping to her knees.

“Raise your head and speak,” Wei Yan said, his mood foul but not given to venting on a servant. “What brings you here in such haste?”

The girl wiped sweat from her brow and lifted her face, marred by a large dark birthmark. “General, I escaped from the supply camp. I have an urgent matter to report.”

Wei Yan was taken aback. “Escaped?” An escaped servant faced execution or, at best, severe punishment. For her to take such a risk to come here, the matter must be grave, and she would likely pay dearly for it. Yet the supply camp was under Yang Yi’s jurisdiction—directly subordinate to central command. Even as General Who Guards the North, Wei Yan could not easily interfere.

He hesitated for a moment, regaining his composure. “Speak. What is so urgent?”

“I do odd jobs in the camp and sometimes help tend the wounded. Not long ago, someone was brought in from the Rear General’s camp, gravely injured, his flesh beaten to a pulp. The men from that camp ordered us not to clean his wounds or give him medicine—they wanted him to die slowly in agony.”

Wei Ba felt his hair stand on end, a chill racing up his spine. He realized that the wounded man was likely Fu Xing—why else would the girl risk everything to report to the General Who Guards the North? He was about to speak when Wei Yan raised a hand, signaling him to hold his tongue. Wei Ba glanced up and saw his father’s eyes narrowed, radiating murderous intent.

“Who is this man?” Wei Yan demanded.

“I heard the men in the Rear General’s camp call him Fu Xing.”

“So it’s true?” Wei Yan’s gaze grew even sharper, his voice lethal.

“I risked beheading to come here, General. Would I dare lie to you?” Though humble, the girl’s spirit was unbending, her bearing proud. Wei Ba took a closer look: aside from the disfiguring birthmark, her features were regular and her eyes clear and bright, undaunted even when meeting Wei Yan’s stare.

“Very well. If this is true, I guarantee your safety. But if you have lied, you know the consequences.”

She bowed slightly. “Thank you, General.”

Wei Yan snorted, then turned to Wei Feng. “Take ten men and go to the supply camp to demand the prisoner. If anyone bars your way, cut them down.”

Wei Feng acknowledged the order and turned to leave. Wei Ba, alarmed, hurried to stop him. “Father, brother—you can’t just storm into the supply camp! What if the Chancellor holds us accountable?”

“Hmph!” Wei Yan glared. “Fu Xing saved your life—he is our family’s benefactor. Now he’s in danger; how can we stand by and do nothing? If the Chancellor blames us, I alone will bear it. What are you afraid of?”

Wei Ba shook his head. “Father, it’s not fear. I just think there may be more to this.”

“Oh?” Wei Yan sneered. “And what do you suspect?”

Wei Ba quickly gathered his thoughts. The matter was not complicated: Liu Yu had been crippled by Dun Wu, Liu Yan had his fingers broken and was slapped hard. Their desire for revenge on Fu Xing was unsurprising, if a bit swift and brutal. Given their tempers, it was not out of character. But to injure Fu Xing and then send him to the supply camp to die was clearly a trap—for the Wei family. Otherwise, why not simply kill him in the Rear General’s camp?

“I think this is Liu Yan’s trap, designed to lure us into storming the supply camp. If we do, not only will we fail to save Fu Xing, we might end up in trouble ourselves.”

Wei Yan seemed to grasp the point. After a moment’s thought, he waved his hand. “I understand. Feng, take some men to the supply camp to investigate. If anyone blocks you, don’t force it—just protect Fu Xing.”

Wei Feng left the tent at once, taking twenty guards with him.

Wei Yan stood, shaking out his sleeves. “Ba, come with me to the Rear General’s camp. We’ll pay our respects to the Rear General.”

“Father?” Wei Ba was startled. Why would his father go personally and show such deference to Liu Yan? But a second glance at Wei Yan’s face filled him with doubt—when had his father ever been so calm?

“What are you waiting for? Move!” Wei Yan barked, striding outside. Wei Ba dared not linger and hurried after him. As they left, the servant girl caught up, calling, “General…”

Wei Yan did not look back, merely waved a hand. “You come with me as well.”

The girl answered gladly, following closely behind Wei Ba, who glanced at her and could not help but regret that her face was ruined by the birthmark.

Noticing his gaze, the girl lowered her head shyly, hiding her dirty hands in her sleeves. Wei Ba, moved by her embarrassment, reassured her gently, “Don’t worry. Now that the General Who Guards the North has promised you, you will be safe.”

“Thank you, General. Thank you, Young General.”

Without hesitation, Wei Yan led a dozen bodyguards with Wei Ba straight to Liu Yan’s camp. Though Liu Yan held the title of Rear General, he had never fought a battle and commanded just over a thousand men, occupying a corner of the central encampment. Wei Yan stopped a hundred paces from the gate, reined in his horse, and surveyed the defenses, his face expressionless.

Wei Ba, following behind, could not see his father’s face, but knowing Wei Yan as he did, he sensed something significant was about to happen and felt a surge of tension.

Before long, a horseman galloped up and saluted. “General, Young General has reached the supply camp but is surrounded and cannot escape. Fu Xing is there—his injuries are grave; both legs have been broken.”

Wei Yan nodded, nudged his horse forward, and approached the gate. His towering figure, illuminated by the torches, grew more imposing with every step.

The sentries atop the watchtower saw the fully armed Wei Yan emerge from the darkness and tensed, nocking arrows and sounding the alarm bells. “Halt! Come no further or you’ll be shot!”

Wei Yan ignored them, pressing on until he reached the entrance. There, in a calm and steady voice, he announced, “Wei Yan, General Who Guards the North, is here to pay his respects to the Rear General. Please inform him.”

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