Chapter 078: A Remark That Astonished All

The personal guard entered the tent and extinguished the oil lamp, which was nearly spent.

Zhuge Liang, hunched over his desk, did not lift his head and instructed, “Bring another lamp.”

The guard hesitated for a moment, looked at the lamp in his hand, and bowed, “Prime Minister, dawn has broken.”

“Dawn?” Zhuge Liang murmured, his writing hand pausing briefly before he resumed, still hastily jotting down his notes. As he wrote, he said, “Then open the tent flap, let some fresh air in.”

The guard complied, opening the tent door. A cool morning breeze swept in, dispersing the heavy smell of lamp oil. Zhuge Liang felt invigorated, quickly finishing the last few words. He reviewed them once more, set the papers aside, and then rubbed his hands together, massaged his face, and stood up, supporting himself on the desk. Having knelt all night, his legs had lost all feeling; as he rose, sharp pain stabbed through them, causing his eyes to twitch uncontrollably.

The guard hurried to his side, carefully helping him step by step to the entrance of the tent. Facing the whitening eastern sky, Zhuge Liang gripped his waist with one hand and clutched the guard’s arm with the other, steadying his wavering body. He squinted, needing a moment to adjust to the daylight. He sighed softly, “Another day has dawned.”

“Yes, Prime Minister, you haven’t slept all night again,” the guard choked out.

Zhuge Liang smiled silently and said nothing. Waiting for the stabbing numbness to ebb from his legs and his back to straighten, he released the guard’s hand and said tiredly, “Go prepare some porridge for me.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Put in plenty of ginger.”

The guard responded, anxiously watching Zhuge Liang, and reminded him, “Prime Minister, I’m going to let go now.”

Zhuge Liang waved him off and, supporting his waist with one hand, massaged his aching brow with the other. After working through the day and night, he was utterly exhausted. Yet he could not afford to do otherwise; the army was about to move, and countless matters awaited his attention—any delay could cause a ripple of unforeseen consequences.

The guard brought the porridge. Zhuge Liang returned to the tent, ate a few mouthfuls, but found it tasteless. Though his stomach was empty, the thick ginger porridge did not whet his appetite. Forcing down two spoonfuls, he hesitated, feeling too drained. He decided to rest for a while before anyone came to consult him, disregarding his usual habit of walking after meals. He lay down on the campaign cot in the rear tent, but had barely settled when the secretary, Huo Yi, hurried in.

Seeing Zhuge Liang’s fatigued face, Huo Yi stopped, glanced at the military report in his hand, and hesitated.

Zhuge Liang heard Huo Yi’s footsteps and knew that his early arrival meant urgent business, but he remained lying down, savoring a rare moment of relaxation. He only opened his heavy eyelids. “Shaoxian, what is it?”

“Prime Minister, Staff Officer Wei Ba sent an urgent report.”

“Wei Ba?” Zhuge Liang was startled, instantly alert, and made to sit up. He quickly suppressed his impulse, paused in silence, and then asked calmly, “What is the urgent report?”

Huo Yi swallowed, his throat making a gurgling sound. Zhuge Liang turned, puzzled, studying him. Huo Yi was the prime minister’s secretary, responsible for handling all official documents; every letter to the prime minister’s office passed through his hands. Although Zhuge Liang was personally involved in everything, there was a need to prioritize, and Huo Yi also evaluated the urgency of documents. In Zhuge Liang’s view, Wei Ba, a nominal staff officer, could hardly have anything important—at most, perhaps urging for provisions, which had already been arranged and required no immediate action.

Seeing Huo Yi’s unusual expression, Zhuge Liang was perplexed.

“Prime Minister, this is a very strange urgent report,” Huo Yi said cautiously. “It’s the outcome of a game.”

“A game?” Zhuge Liang relaxed, both amused and annoyed. “Shaoxian, Wei Ba has barely started his official duties; he doesn’t understand priorities, but how could you be confused as well? The result of a game—does it merit such urgency?”

“Prime Minister, this game is different. It’s a tactical simulation, and the tactics simulated are those of the entire northern expedition.”

Zhuge Liang was startled, then frowned. After a moment, he said gravely, “This child is truly thoughtless. The northern expedition is a matter of great importance—how can it be treated as a game?” He did not rise, but smiled silently. “Let me guess: if we don’t adopt the Ziwugu plan, we’ll fail?”

Huo Yi nodded.

Zhuge Liang grew impatient, turned over, and faced away from Huo Yi. He was displeased by Huo Yi’s behavior that day, though he said nothing to spare him embarrassment. Turning his back was his way of permitting Huo Yi to leave.

Huo Yi, well-versed in Zhuge Liang’s habits, understood, but did not move. He glanced again at the urgent report in his hand and said quietly, “Prime Minister, I’ll leave the result on your desk. When you rise from your rest, you may look it over.”

Zhuge Liang’s back stiffened; he slowly turned and sat up. Huo Yi’s insistence despite Zhuge Liang’s clear dismissal meant the report was, in his view, truly significant. Zhuge Liang extended his hand. “Let me see it.”

Huo Yi did not hand it over. “Prime Minister, it would be best to review it after you’ve rested.”

Zhuge Liang frowned. “Is it that important?”

“Not necessarily for its importance—though I do think it is—but I worry there are so many calculations involved, if you’re not fully alert, you may not grasp it immediately.”

Zhuge Liang looked at Huo Yi in surprise, knowing well the esteem in which Huo Yi held him. For him to say this meant Wei Ba’s report was far from ordinary. His curiosity piqued, and his fatigue seemed to fade. He took the report from Huo Yi and opened it for a glance, letting out a surprised sound.

This was Wei Ba’s second official document since taking office, but the first sent directly to Zhuge Liang. He avoided citations and formalities, stating at the outset that he and Zhao Guang, Fu Xing, and others, in their idle moments, had played a game and derived some unexpected results, which might be of benefit to the prime minister. Therefore, he meticulously recorded the entire process for Zhuge Liang’s reference.

Next came an explanation of the simulation, followed by dozens of iterations, and finally a comprehensive summary.

Wei Ba’s writing was not elegant, even somewhat dry, yet Zhuge Liang found one aspect highly satisfactory: he anticipated that the report might be lengthy and worried the prime minister might not finish it in one sitting, so he prepared a summary at the front, giving an overview of each section so the gist could be grasped without reading the whole.

Zhuge Liang read quickly, skipping the exhaustive simulation details, flipping straight to the comprehensive summary at the end. After reading it twice, his expression became complex—surprised, gratified, yet tinged with displeasure.

Closing the report, Zhuge Liang stood and slowly walked to the outer tent. Huo Yi followed cautiously. Zhuge Liang paced back and forth in the spacious tent, then turned to Huo Yi, “Go and summon Ma Youchang, Yang Weigong, Hu Weidu, and Fei Wenwei.”

Huo Yi was taken aback. He knew the report was important and Zhuge Liang would take it seriously, but he had not expected him to summon all four of his trusted aides at once. Not daring to delay, he immediately left to arrange their arrival. Zhuge Liang paced the tent, occasionally glancing at the report in his hand.

Before long, Ma Su was the first to enter. He laughed, “Prime Minister, what trick has that Wei Ba fellow come up with now, to have you so invested?”

Zhuge Liang curled his lip and handed the report to Ma Su. Having heard some details from Huo Yi, Ma Su examined the cover, quickly glanced at the signature at the end, and his brow furrowed. “Is this his own idea?”

“What do you think?” Zhuge Liang’s face was stern, his gaze conflicted.

Ma Su’s eyes darted. “The boy is bold, perhaps Bo Song isn’t fully aware—it’s possible.”

“But Wei Ba has faced him in a match. Why hasn’t he reported to me? Instead, it’s Wei Ba who sends an urgent report.” Zhuge Liang’s voice rose, his outstretched fingers pale and trembling. “He is the commander of the army—if he lacks this sense of responsibility, how can he ever lead?”

Ma Su hurried to placate him. “Prime Minister, perhaps Bo Song’s report is on its way—there’s no need to worry. Besides, this is just a game played by some idle youths, nothing of real consequence. Bo Song has more pressing duties; it’s understandable if he overlooked this.”

“Youchang, don’t defend him!” Zhuge Liang flung his sleeve, his anger plain. He breathed deeply and exclaimed, “This is irresponsibility—irresponsibility! Without responsibility, how can he ever stand alone?”

Just then, Yang Yi entered, hearing Zhuge Liang’s words and seeing his fury. He was first startled, then a flicker of delight passed through his eyes. Ma Su, noticing, quickly handed the report to him. “Weigong, look this over—see if Wei Ba’s calculations have any flaws.”

Yang Yi was displeased, but took the document and began reading rapidly. At first, he snorted in disdain, but upon reaching the second section, his expression grew serious. He read more slowly, pausing frequently to ponder and calculate on his fingers. Seeing his demeanor, not only Zhuge Liang and Ma Su but even Fei Yi and Hu Ji, who arrived later, grew solemn. — Seeking recommendations and collections!