Chapter 043: Trouble Comes Calling

Chapter 043: Trouble Arrives

Wei Ba arched an eyebrow; he recognized the name Peng Yang. The Peng Yang case had occurred not long after Liu Bei entered Shu, and the people involved were two prominent figures: Peng Yang, a representative of Yizhou’s local talent favored by Liu Bei, and Ma Chao, newly surrendered and emblematic of the Xiliang faction. Peng Yang’s execution, on one hand, complicated the recently improved relationship between Liu Bei and the Yizhou elite; on the other, it put immense pressure on Ma Chao, causing him to withdraw from public life—he retained his rank but wielded little power, living out his days in quiet frustration until his death.

Who would have thought that this girl, with her face marked by bluish spots, was Peng Yang’s daughter? She was trouble incarnate.

“You’d rather stay here as a servant in the General of the North’s residence than return home—is that intentional?” Wei Ba’s expression darkened, his temples throbbing. He hadn’t expected that his brawl with the oily, foppish Liu Yu would stir up such a mess, somehow involving Peng Yang’s own daughter. Only now did he realize why Yang Yi’s expression had been so odd when he’d asked Zhuge Liang to assign Peng Xiaoyu to him. It probably wasn’t just about her skills in caretaking, but rather her sensitive identity.

“Yes.” Peng Xiaoyu knelt, her voice trembling with quiet sobs. “I became a government slave at the age of three. Now I’m sixteen, old enough to be assigned as a wife to a soldier. But I’m too ugly—no good family would have me, and I’m not qualified to serve as an official entertainer. My best hope is to remain a government slave until I die. If fate is unkind, I might be sent to a soldiers’ brothel, abused by brutes for years, and then die nameless in some battle.”

She lifted her tear-streaked face. “Young General, I don’t want that kind of life. In the supply camp, when I saw you defeat that scoundrel Liu Yu and then win over Yang Yi, I saw hope. I believed that only you and your father could protect someone like me. So when Liu Yan sent Captain Fu to the camp, I took the risk to deliver the message. I do wish to attach myself to you, Young General. But if this troubles you, I’ll leave at dawn, return to my ancestral home, and live hidden in the mountains, clinging to life.”

Wei Ba suddenly saw everything clearly. No wonder things had unfolded so conveniently—she’d been plotting for some time, determined to cling to the Wei family for support. But little did she know that the Wei family was not a safe haven; its fate might one day be worse than that of the Pengs, their whole clan annihilated, not even a chance to live as government slaves. She was merely trading one deadly pit for another.

What a wretched girl. Seeing Peng Xiaoyu’s tear-stained face, Wei Ba couldn’t help but sigh.

At his sigh, Peng Xiaoyu’s face turned ashen. She dried her tears with her sleeve and steadied her voice. “Young General, please don’t trouble yourself. I am already deeply grateful to be freed from slavery. I dare not ask for more. At dawn, I’ll take my leave. All I ask is a travel pass, and I’ll be content. When I return home, I’ll set up an ancestral tablet in your honor, never to forget your kindness.”

“Don’t be like that.” Wei Ba gave a bitter laugh and waved his hand, cutting her off. In truth, he wanted to send Peng Xiaoyu away immediately—keeping her would only bring endless trouble. But he couldn’t. For one, he recalled Yang Yi’s expression that day; he was certain Yang would report this to Zhuge Liang, yet Zhuge Qiao had said nothing during his morning visit. It seemed Zhuge Liang was observing his reaction; if he were to hastily send Peng Xiaoyu away, what would Zhuge Liang think? On the other hand, he genuinely pitied her fate. Forced into slavery at the age of three—could anything be more tragic?

One without compassion is no better than a beast.

From every angle, expelling Peng Xiaoyu now would be unwise. Even if she must leave, it would be better to wait. Of course, he would seek his father’s counsel before deciding.

“There’s no need to rush. Stay in the camp for now. We’ll see about the future when the time comes.”

Peng Xiaoyu gazed at him in surprise, joy lighting up her tear-streaked face. She kowtowed twice, then took up the now-cold footbath water and left. Wei Ba looked at the rough sketches he’d just finished, pondering this new revelation, and gave a wry smile. This world was truly perilous—pitfalls everywhere, and a moment’s carelessness would see one tumble in, dying without ever knowing how it happened. “Treading on thin ice”—this saying had never felt so apt.

...

At dawn the next day, after his morning run, Wei Ba took his sketches to the supply camp, handing the designs for the wheelchair and footbath to the carpenter, carefully explaining his requirements. The carpenter readily agreed, promising delivery within two days. Wei Ba returned to his tent and went to see Fu Xing.

Fu Xing had just finished breakfast and was chatting idly with Wei Wu, while Peng Xiaoyu served at the side, eyes still swollen from crying. When Wei Ba entered, Fu Xing greeted him with a smile. “Brother Wei...”

“Haha, you’re still so formal!” Wei Ba cut him off with a laugh. “We’re from the same hometown, and our fathers are friends. There’s no need for such formality—it only makes things awkward. Do you have a courtesy name?”

“I do—my style name is Zhongjian. And you?”

Wei Ba stroked his chin. “I haven’t had my capping ceremony yet, so I don’t have one. Just call me Aba, as my elder brother does.”

Fu Xing hesitated a moment. “Very well. Um... I heard from Miss Peng that you’ve arranged for a wheelchair for me?”

Wei Ba glanced at Peng Xiaoyu and nodded. “That’s right. I just put in the order—we should have it by tomorrow or the day after. Once you have a wheelchair, you won’t be cooped up in the tent all day. You can go out, get some sun; it’ll be good for your recovery.”

“I can’t thank you enough.” Fu Xing was deeply grateful. “You’re so busy, yet you take the time to care for me. I feel quite undeserving.”

“No need for such words.” Wei Ba gripped his hand, smiling. “Brothers should look out for each other. Let’s not stand on ceremony.”

Fu Xing smiled and let the matter drop. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Aba, I should warn you. Liu Yan and his son are no good, but since you’ve already dealt with them, I doubt the Prime Minister will hold a grudge. But others... they won’t be as easy to handle. In the future, be more careful—don’t raise your hand so quickly, or you might bring trouble on yourself.”

Wei Ba arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Who else wants to come at me?”

Fu Xing shook his head. “Not necessarily anyone in particular. But with so many people gathered here, conflict is inevitable. Our elders fight for power, and though we youngsters aren’t yet part of that struggle, we’re still affected by our families. There’s bound to be rivalry and competition.”

Wei Ba blinked. “Just rivalry? No one stirring up trouble behind the scenes?”

“You’re overthinking it.” Fu Xing laughed. “Young men bicker and fight—that’s perfectly normal. But...” He paused, his smile fading. “Your bodyguard was awfully ruthless. Next time something like this happens, you should rein him in. After all, these are not mortal enemies—no need to cripple someone with a single blow.”

Wei Ba said nothing. He knew Fu Xing’s words didn’t tell the whole story. That day, Liu Yu’s actions were clearly more than mere rivalry; if Dun Wu hadn’t intervened, Wei Ba himself would have been gravely injured. Fu Xing’s comments hinted at something more, though Wei Ba couldn’t quite decipher what. He had assumed Liu Yu’s grudge stemmed from the Ma family girl’s meddling, but Fu Xing’s denial surprised him. Wei Ba had watched Fu Xing’s expression closely; he seemed perfectly calm—unlikely to be lying.

“Thank you for the warning, Zhongjian.” Wei Ba said no more, rising to leave. He headed toward his father’s command tent to attend to paperwork, but just then, Zhuge Qiao and a young man approached at a brisk pace. Spotting him, Zhuge Qiao called out with a smile, “Wei, back from your run? I hope I’m not disturbing you?”

Wei Ba stopped and greeted him politely. “You’re too kind, Zhuge. What brings you here?”

Zhuge Qiao chuckled, slinging an arm around Wei Ba’s shoulders and giving him a hearty shake. “What business could I have but to introduce a good friend, and deliver an invitation for a gathering tomorrow?”

“Oh? And this is...?” Wei Ba smiled at the young man beside Zhuge Qiao.

“This is Zhao Guang, style name Zhongde, son of the famous General Zhao Zilong.”

Zhao Guang stepped forward and bowed. “I’ve long heard of you, Wei. I came specifically to pay my respects.”

Wei Ba studied Zhao Guang up and down. So this was Zhao Zilong’s son—handsome, certainly, but did he have any real talent? After all, history barely mentions him. Then again, not only Zhao Yun’s descendants but even those of Guan Yu and Zhang Fei were only prominent in the romance, not in reality. As Dun Wu had said, Zhao Yun himself wasn’t nearly as renowned in real life as in the tales; his son’s caution and discretion were only to be expected.

“You flatter me, Zhongde. How would you have heard my name here in Chengdu? If you have, it can only be in the last few days—and my reputation hardly matches the virtues of gentleness, respect, frugality, and humility.”

Zhao Guang looked a bit embarrassed, unsure how to reply. Zhuge Qiao, seeing this, laughed even harder. “Didn’t I tell you, Wei is a free spirit—don’t treat him like an ordinary man. But you wouldn’t listen, would you?”

Zhao Guang shook his head, smiling. “You’re right, Bosong. Wei is no ordinary man—I was too old-fashioned.”

Wei Ba smiled faintly, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then asked Zhuge Qiao, “So, what sort of gathering warrants your personal invitation?”

“Oh, it’s nothing special,” Zhuge Qiao replied with practiced grace. “Just a meeting of peers, some of us close in age, to get together, exchange ideas, and strengthen our bonds.”

Wei Ba’s heart skipped a beat. Here it comes, he thought.