Volume Two: Lords and Their Descendants Chapter 33: Petition for Investiture

The official bowed respectfully, then straightened and said, “Your Majesty, the tribute rice from southern Sichuan is being stored at the East Market warehouse. By my estimation, there are indeed two thousand shi.”

The young man in brocade nodded and asked, “What about the military strength coming from southern Sichuan? Are their arms substantial?”

“Your Majesty, I have observed that the troops from southern Sichuan are mostly clad in plain linen with long spears—they are essentially militia.” The official replied.

The young man in brocade nodded, saying, “As expected.”

“Southern Sichuan lies amidst the wilds, naturally lacking the deep foundations of the north,” the official continued.

The young man in brocade shook his head. “Fertile lands have all fallen to rebel hands. I wish to pacify the realm through martial strength, yet both arms and provisions are lacking.”

The official replied respectfully, “Your Majesty now commands a hundred thousand troops. When the campaign against the traitors begins and victory is won, the supply of arms and grain will be sustained.”

The young man in brocade smiled faintly. “Summon the envoy from southern Sichuan.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The official replied with deference and turned to inform Wei Fufeng.

...

Wei Fufeng stood waiting outside the Hall of Prolonged Reflection, his eyes seemingly curious as they roamed left and right, though in truth his mind was calculating his next steps.

The ten subordinates from southern Sichuan also gazed about, clearly out of place in their belted linen tunics and bamboo sun-hats amidst the grand palace halls—like a band of mountain folk come to the city.

Of Wei Fufeng’s thousand soldiers, a hundred armored men and three hundred archers—all the elite—had been left behind at Ziwu Town.

Wei Fufeng’s intent was to keep a low profile, bringing just six hundred linen-clad spearmen as escorts for the grain.

When the official emerged, Wei Fufeng arched his brow and composed himself as the official approached and saluted, “His Majesty summons you. Please, Lord Wei, follow me inside.”

Wei Fufeng nodded and returned the salute. “My thanks.”

Following the official through the palace doors, Wei Fufeng immediately saw the young man in imperial yellow brocade seated before him.

His first impression was of a man of imposing stature and bearing—Wei Fufeng felt the aura of imperial authority.

Without glancing aside, he followed the official forward, stopped when the latter stepped aside, then knelt, lifting his robe, and bowed deeply. “Wei Fufeng, acting military governor of southern Sichuan, presents himself at His Majesty’s command by order of my uncle, humbly wishing Your Majesty good health.”

The Emperor Zhaozong, seated upon the dragon throne, showed a hint of surprise at the envoy’s entrance.

He had not expected the envoy from southern Sichuan to be a youth of seventeen or eighteen. But upon hearing Wei Fufeng’s words, his brow creased slightly—Wei Fufeng’s self-styled title irked him.

The so-called ‘acting military governor’ was usually a successor not officially recognized by the court.

Military governors were supposed to be imperial officials of the Tang Empire, yet their successors inherited power as if they were feudal lords, a fundamental betrayal of imperial order.

Wei Fufeng’s status was difficult to define; only by calling himself ‘acting military governor’ could he both emphasize his importance and obscure his official position.

Suppressing his displeasure, Zhaozong said gently, “You have come a long way to pay respects. I am greatly pleased—rise, and be seated.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Wei Fufeng responded respectfully, rising and sitting on the stool brought by the eunuch.

Zhaozong asked kindly, “Your name is Wei Fufeng?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I was born in Fufeng County, Fengxiang. My father gave me the name Wei Fufeng,” Wei Fufeng replied with deference.

“Born in Fengxiang, you have a Chang’an accent. Are you connected to the Wei clan of Chang’an by chance?” the emperor inquired.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. My uncle is a descendant of Wei Gao,” Wei Fufeng answered, half truth and half fiction.

“Wei Gao?” Zhaozong mused, then said in surprise, “You mean the Grand Tutor Wei, who served as military governor of Western Sichuan a century ago?”

“Yes, my uncle claims descent from Wei Gao,” Wei Fufeng replied with a touch of nervousness.

He could hardly be blamed—Wei Gao’s renown was great. A century ago, he served as military governor of Western Sichuan for twenty-one years, winning repeated victories against the Tibetans, inflicting heavy losses upon them—a celebrated minister of the Tang.

Wei Gao hailed from the Wei clan of Chang’an. For Wei Fufeng to claim descent was not entirely baseless; Wei Gao was the pride of that lineage, his memorial tablet honored by the clan for generations.

Zhaozong nodded, then asked seemingly offhandedly, “If you are indeed a descendant of Grand Tutor Wei, then you must know Lord Wei Zhaodu.”

“My uncle does not know Chancellor Wei Zhaodu, nor has he ever been in contact. We are a distant branch of Wei Gao’s line,” Wei Fufeng explained, relieved.

“Oh,” Zhaozong nodded, accepting this—after all, the Wei clan was vast, with many collateral branches.

After a pause, Wei Fufeng rose and bowed again. “As a descendant of the Wei clan, my uncle upholds our ancestral duty and wishes to pledge our loyalty to His Majesty. Thus, I have come as envoy to pay respects.”

A faint smile touched Emperor Zhaozong’s lips. “The establishment of the southern Sichuan military governorship was at the request of the Chief Minister. I had thought the governor might be close to him.”

“Your Majesty is the Emperor of the Tang. As descendants of the Wei clan, it is our duty—like the Chief Minister—to serve you with loyalty,” Wei Fufeng responded respectfully.

Zhaozong paused, thinking. “If the governor of southern Sichuan can be of service to me, I am greatly comforted.”

“I thank Your Majesty for your trust on behalf of my uncle. I have a petition to present.” Wei Fufeng rose swiftly and knelt once more.

Zhaozong looked at him, frowning. “What is it?”

“Your Majesty, I have heard that you intend to dispatch imperial troops against the traitor of Hedong. As a descendant of the Wei clan, I wish to honor my ancestors’ fidelity and lead a thousand men to join the Divine Strategy Army in the campaign.”

Zhaozong was silent, deep in thought. Wei Fufeng continued respectfully, “All supplies needed for the campaign will be furnished by the southern Sichuan command. I ask that Your Majesty grant me the title of Commander of the Fufeng Army, and ennoble me as Marquis of Fufeng. Though I am of humble birth, I hope Your Majesty will bestow honor upon me.”

His blunt petition for ennoblement bordered on insolence, and Emperor Zhaozong felt displeasure. Yet with the campaign against Li Keyong imminent, he needed support from all sides, especially in gathering grain.

As for Wei Fufeng’s offer to fight, the emperor was indifferent—he already commanded a hundred thousand troops.

If he denied Wei Fufeng’s request, the tribute grain had yet to be handed over to the Ministry of Revenue. Should Wei Fufeng refuse to deliver it, the emperor could hardly seize it by force.

A standoff would create a negative impression—the tribute from southern Sichuan was of great symbolic importance in honoring the court.

“Your willingness to serve the country is deeply appreciated. Your request is granted.” For the sake of the greater good, Emperor Zhaozong reluctantly agreed.

“I thank Your Majesty for the honor,” Wei Fufeng replied, bowing deeply, his forehead knocking audibly against the floor.

Zhaozong started, feeling somewhat gratified, and said gently, “Rise.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Wei Fufeng replied, relieved, and sat again.

As he sat, Emperor Zhaozong suddenly realized something amiss—the title “Fufeng Army” implied a garrison in Fufeng County.

Fufeng County was under the control of Li Maozhen, military governor of Fengxiang, who wielded power arrogantly and was a major threat to the emperor.

Zhaozong worried the title might provoke Li Maozhen’s wrath.

Yet after a moment’s hesitation, he reconsidered—it was only a name. The southern Sichuan governorship would not last; once Li Keyong was subdued, he would turn to deal with Li Maozhen and restore imperial control over Bashu.

Noticing the emperor’s hesitation, Wei Fufeng grew anxious, fearing he might rescind his promise.

But soon, the emperor’s expression calmed, and he asked, “Are you aware of the situation in western Sichuan?”

“I am not, Your Majesty. The command in southern Sichuan is newly established, and my uncle and I have been preoccupied with local affairs. However, I have heard that the rebels remain besieged in Chengdu, with only Pengzhou in the northwest still supporting them.”

Wei Fufeng answered carefully, not wishing the emperor to suspect a connection between Wei Zhaodu and southern Sichuan.

Emperor Zhaozong nodded. “Only a lone city remains besieged. The day when Duke Qi breaks the city cannot be far.”

Wei Fufeng hesitated, then said, “Your Majesty, I have heard that the walls of Chengdu were expanded and fortified by the previous governor, Gao Pian. The walls are high, the moat broad—very difficult to breach.”

Zhaozong nodded, then asked, “Has anything else happened in Shu?”

“There has, Your Majesty. When I departed, the military governor of Shannan West had captured Kuizhou. Along the way, I heard that Longzhou, Lizhou, Langzhou, and Jianzhou had been placed under the new Longjian command.”

Zhaozong’s expression changed. “The governor of Shannan West has taken Kuizhou?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ve heard Kuizhou was under the jurisdiction of Jingnan—a gateway to the rivers of Bashu.”

The emperor frowned in silence. Wei Fufeng glanced up to see anger flicker in Zhaozong’s eyes. Sensing this, he surmised the emperor’s wrath was directed at the chief eunuch, Yang Fugong.

Wei Fufeng knew that Zhaozong’s ascension owed much to Yang Fugong’s support. It was said that the court ministers favored enthroning Prince Li Bao, but Yang Fugong, controlling the Divine Strategy Army, overruled them and brought Prince Shou to the throne as Emperor Zhaozong.

After his enthronement, Yang Fugong proclaimed himself Elder Statesman, filled the court with his own men, and meddled in state affairs.

The emperor’s anger perhaps arose from Yang Fugong’s expansion of power outside, treating the emperor as a puppet.

After a while, Zhaozong regained his composure and said gently, “You may withdraw.”

Wei Fufeng rose and bowed respectfully. “I take my leave.”

He turned to go, but suddenly turned back and bowed again. “Your Majesty, I have one more matter to report.”

“Speak,” the emperor replied.

“Your Majesty, the southern Sichuan command was established to guard the frontier. According to intelligence, there are signs that the Liao-Yi tribes of Qianzhou (Guizhou) intend to defect to the Nanzhao Kingdom. Should this occur, it would pose a serious border threat. I request that Your Majesty send troops to Qianzhou to suppress them.” In truth, this was entirely fabricated.

Zhaozong paused, considered, and said, “This must be discussed in council. You may withdraw.”

Wei Fufeng took his leave and exited the Hall of Prolonged Reflection.

Once outside, he did not depart immediately, but waited. Soon, the Director of the Ministry of Rites emerged.

Wei Fufeng stepped forward, bowed, and said, “Lord Yan, you heard His Majesty’s grant of titles. Please assist me in obtaining the imperial edict, seal, and official robes as soon as possible. I will remember your favor.”

Lord Yan hesitated, his face tightening. “The edict will not be delayed. As for the seal, I’ll find someone to expedite the process and have it sent to you as soon as possible.”

“Very well. I shall await your arrival at the East Market in Chang’an.” Wei Fufeng smiled, hinting that there would be a reward if the seal was delivered personally.

“Oh, and the tribute rice you brought should be handed over to the Ministry of Revenue,” Lord Yan reminded dutifully.

“That can be arranged. When you come to the East Market, please bring the officials from the Ministry of Revenue to collect the grain,” Wei Fufeng replied with a smile, subtly indicating that without the edict and seal, the grain would not be delivered.

Lord Yan nodded, said no more, and respectfully took his leave, personally escorting Wei Fufeng and his party out of the Daming Palace.