Chapter 73: A Woman's Perspective

Wei Ba sat in silence, quietly facing Lady Zhang. Unlike her usual composure, Lady Zhang now wore a look of anxiety. Having been married to Wei Yan for most of her life, how could she not know his temperament? His cherished plan to march through the Ziwu Valley had been rejected by the Prime Minister—how could he possibly swallow his anger in silence? That he would mention it from time to time was only to be expected.

But was this really something to be spoken of? And so often?

He had always been so outspoken—back when he was in Hanzhong, with the emperor far away and no one to restrain him, he could act as he pleased, a local tyrant in his own right. But things were different now; with the Prime Minister personally present in Hanzhong, how could he still speak so recklessly?

Disaster springs from careless words.

Lady Zhang was a learned woman, with some knowledge of history, and she was keenly aware of the recent events in Shu Han. In some respects, her understanding surpassed even Wei Yan’s, and her insight was broader than Wei Ba’s. She was more alert than either to the dangers her husband’s loose tongue might invite.

It was precisely for this reason that her anxiety far exceeded anything Wei Ba could imagine.

Nevertheless, Lady Zhang, having presided over the Wei household for many years, had cultivated the ability to remain unruffled even if Mount Tai were to collapse before her. Though her heart was in turmoil, she did not lose her composure; apart from a slight pallor and the tension in the hand hidden in her sleeve, there was little outward sign of her distress.

“Ziyu, have you any clever ideas to offer?”

Wei Ba smiled, appreciating Lady Zhang’s composure. That she could remain calm under such circumstances spoke to her remarkable character.

“In truth, I support Father’s Ziwu Valley plan,” Wei Ba said unhurriedly. “To contend with the Central Plains from the confines of one province, unless we employ extraordinary tactics, victory will be hard to come by. Right now, all of Cao Wei’s attention is fixed on the Southlands—this is a rare opportunity. If we let it slip, Wei will surely shift its focus back to Guanzhong, stationing heavy troops there. By then, even if our Han musters all its strength, victory will be almost impossible.”

Lady Zhang nodded slightly. Though not versed in military matters, she understood these broader strategic points.

“Thus, though Father’s plan is risky, it may be our only viable option. The Prime Minister has chosen neither the best nor a moderate course, but the safest—this is in keeping with his nature, and it also reveals his lack of optimism about the campaign’s prospects.”

Lady Zhang suddenly said, “For him, a great victory or a small one makes little difference—so long as he does not lose.”

Wei Ba was taken aback. He looked up at Lady Zhang, and caught a trace of cold amusement in her eyes. He asked, perplexed, “Mother, do you mean to say...?”

“Ziyu, your father is a soldier, his focus always on the battlefield. He pays little heed to matters beyond it. But isn’t it true that the root of everything that happens on the battlefield is found in the court? He sees only Ziwu Valley, while the Prime Minister sees Chengdu.”

Wei Ba was astonished and, for a moment, at a loss for words. Lady Zhang, however, appeared resolute, as if a decision had formed in her mind. She raised her hand to forestall his questions and continued, “If the Prime Minister wins a great victory on this expedition, so much the better. But with the strength of Shu Han, a sweeping victory is all but impossible. Yet he cannot afford defeat—one failure and his opponents will rise against him, threatening his very position.”

“So, tell me: faced with a slim chance of a great victory and a strong chance of a small one, which will he choose?”

“He will choose the smaller victory,” Wei Ba’s mind cleared, and he could not help but praise her, “Mother, your insight is truly profound.”

“It’s not that I am especially perceptive,” Lady Zhang smiled, “but rather, I am not caught up in the struggle. An onlooker sees more clearly. The affairs of the court are not so different from those of the estate. The two of you focus on battle, while my thoughts are here at home; that is why I can better fathom the Prime Minister’s intentions.”

Wei Ba gave a wry smile. On reflection, there was truth in her words. Within this estate, his father was like the passive emperor, Liu Chan, while Lady Zhang was the real power behind the throne. To keep her place, she must not err. Likewise, the Prime Minister could not afford failure, or those he had suppressed would unite against him.

Later, when Jieting was lost, Zhuge Liang’s tearful execution of Ma Su became a tale of strict military discipline. Yet some have argued it was a measure of desperation—the true responsibility lay with Zhuge Liang himself, and Ma Su merely served as the scapegoat. His tears were, perhaps, for the injustice, but necessity left no room for mercy.

Even so, Zhuge Liang demoted himself three ranks. The records of later generations gloss over the internal struggles—how much intrigue and conflict occurred can only be guessed at.

If he cared only for his own position, not the future of Shu Han, then for Zhuge Liang, a great victory or a small one would matter little—he had already reached the pinnacle; there were no further rewards, unless he wished to follow in Cao Cao’s footsteps.

Under such circumstances, caution and a preference for small, certain victories over risky gambits became inevitable. Wei Ba believed Zhuge Liang was motivated by the grand cause of restoring the Han, but even that depended on his first retaining power—without which, all dreams were empty.

“Such a choice may be right for the Prime Minister, but for the country, it could be a great loss. And for our Wei family, it is nothing less than a disaster.” Lady Zhang sighed. “If the Prime Minister remains in Hanzhong, our family will lose its standing here. A loss of privilege is one thing, but your father’s reckless tongue...”

Lady Zhang pressed her fingers to her aching brow and sighed deeply.

Wei Ba nodded in silent agreement, offering no further opinion, letting Lady Zhang’s worries ferment. He was certain her anxiety would only deepen. Confined to this little upper chamber, what else could she do but brood? Fear, after all, is a feeling that grows with time.

“Do you also wish to take risks, like your father?” Lady Zhang’s eyes flashed as she regarded Wei Ba, a hint of disappointment in her gaze. Contrary to Wei Ba’s assumption, her kindness to Lady Deng was not due to his inventions or new accounting methods, but because he had shown restraint in his dealings with Yang Yi. Had he acted like Wei Yan, he would have hounded Yang Yi until the latter’s death. Wei Ba, however, had not pressed the advantage, nor had he used the opportunity to become a nominal but powerless official in the Prime Minister’s residence. Instead, he had withdrawn, apprenticed himself to Zhao Yun, built a solid foundation, and only months later accepted the post as aide to Zhuge Qiao. This proved he was not his father.

Such qualities were rare among the Wei men. If used wisely, they would greatly benefit Wei Feng in the future, which was why Lady Zhang treated Lady Deng so well.

But now, if Wei Ba, knowing the risks, still supported the Ziwu Valley plan, was he not as reckless as Wei Yan? If so, he was not worthy of her regard.

“I support Father’s plan for two reasons: first, for the country—if this plan succeeds, there is hope for the Han’s restoration. Second, for our family—only by succeeding in this plan can we turn calamity into fortune.”

Lady Zhang’s brows arched; she instantly grasped his meaning. If Wei Yan could not change, and the family could not retreat, then the only way forward was to go all in. Should the Ziwu Valley plan succeed, Wei Yan would gain great merit, and the plan would be his glory rather than a source of ruin.

“But the plan is too risky. The Prime Minister will not accept it.”

“Father’s plan is indeed risky. By my reckoning, there is perhaps a thirty percent chance of success. Yet if we work hard to overcome the obstacles, we might raise our chances—make the impossible possible.”

“For example?”

Wei Ba drew several sheets of paper from his robe, spread them out, and placed them before Lady Zhang. “Here are some proposals I have drafted. The manpower and material resources required are immense; only you can decide on their allocation.”

Lady Zhang took the papers but did not look at them. Instead, she tapped the table lightly with her fingers. “By your estimate, how much could you raise the odds?”

“To fifty percent—perhaps seventy at best.”

“A fifty-fifty chance is not low, but it is far from a sure thing.” Lady Zhang’s eyes narrowed as she fixed Wei Ba with a steady gaze, speaking each word with care: “Do you think the Prime Minister will agree?”

“I do not know,” Wei Ba replied. “I intend to take advantage of this journey to Xicheng and visit Ziwu Valley myself, to see the terrain. Then I’ll try to persuade Zhuge Qiao. Since he is the Prime Minister’s son, his words may carry more weight.”

Lady Zhang nodded. “That is a good idea. But what if Zhuge Qiao cannot persuade his father?”

“If Zhuge Qiao cannot sway the Prime Minister, then the decision rests with you, Mother.” Wei Ba bowed, glancing at the papers under her hand. “My thoughts are all written there. If you deem them worthwhile, I will proceed. If not, then burn these papers, and let today’s visit be merely a call to pay my respects—nothing more will be said.”

Lady Zhang paused, lifting her hand to read, but Wei Ba gently pressed the thin hemp paper down, smiling softly. “Mother, after I leave, you can read them at your leisure. There is no rush.”

Lady Zhang narrowed her eyes, looking at his hand. After a long silence, she laughed quietly.

“Very well, I shall read them later. And you—when will you depart?”

“I shall leave tomorrow morning,” Wei Ba replied with a gentle smile. “The title will one day pass to my elder brother. I must earn my own place, or the burden on him would be too great.”

Lady Zhang’s gaze flickered and she smiled. “Ziyu, you are cleverer than Afeng, and now that you have taken Zhao Yun as your teacher, your future is bright. Assist Zhuge Qiao well, and your achievements will surely surpass Afeng’s.”

“Mother, no matter how high my office or rank may rise, Afeng is always my elder brother. And you, Mother, will always be my mother.”

Lady Zhang smiled contentedly and patted Wei Ba’s hand where it rested on the desk. “Ziyu, you are a thoughtful child. I am very pleased.”

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