Volume Two: The Lord and His Grandson Chapter 40: An Urgent Visit

As they were speaking, officials in charge of military records and supervisors from the army requested an audience, and Wei Fufeng allowed them to enter.

The record keepers, two in number, were responsible for all military documents, including supply requisitions, correspondence, and any paperwork related to military affairs.

There were three supervisors, each overseeing one of the three armies as well as military expenditures, responsible for reporting achievements and administering rewards and punishments.

The five men entered, saluted Wei Fufeng with military courtesy, and the three supervisors gave their routine reports—nothing urgent, just the usual affirmation that all was well.

After the supervisors departed, the record keepers reported on various supply transactions and presented intelligence dispatches from the southern Sichuan courier.

Wei Fufeng took the documents and, after reading them, his expression shifted from surprise to gravity.

“How could this be? The Military Governor of East Sichuan, Gu Yanlang, has died of illness, and his younger brother, Gu Yanhui, has returned from West Sichuan to Zizhou, proclaiming himself Acting Military Governor of East Sichuan.” Wei Fufeng stared at the document, incredulous.

“No wonder, after the East Sichuan army failed to invade southern Sichuan, they were so quick to compromise and withdraw; it turns out the governor was gravely ill,” Wei Fufeng speculated about the recent events.

“With Gu Yanlang dead, will Yang Fugong try to seize control of East Sichuan through his influence in Bashu? Proclaiming himself acting governor without imperial sanction makes Gu Yanhui no more than the leader of a rebellious circuit. The court could appoint another as Military Governor of East Sichuan. If Gu Yanhui refuses to surrender control, it amounts to rebellion,” Wei Fufeng pondered possible developments.

“If the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold; under no circumstances can East Sichuan be allowed to fall into Yang Fugong’s hands.” Anxiety rose within him.

To mask his agitation, Wei Fufeng continued reading.

The next document was a proposal from the White Tiger Hall to construct defensive forts, which had been jointly approved by the Governor’s Office and the Transfer Commission. Several new forts would be built on Luzhou’s outskirts.

Each fort would be garrisoned by fifty soldiers, issued with newly made crossbows for steadfast defense.

Wei Fufeng nodded—this was a proactive measure. With these forts in place, not only could enemy incursions into the heartland be deterred, but their movements would also be detected early.

His anxious mood eased somewhat. He glanced through three more documents—two reports on the situations in Luzhou and Rongzhou, and one on military developments in West Sichuan.

After dismissing the record keepers, Wei Fufeng pondered for a moment, then turned to Mingyu with a smile, “Rest well. Tomorrow morning we head to Chang’an.”

Mingyu nodded quietly. She was unaware of the pressure weighing on him, and naturally, Wei Fufeng would not burden her with news of looming crises.

Early the next day, Wei Fufeng and Mingyu, accompanied by ten retainers, set out for Chang’an.

He had spent the previous night carefully weighing his options and decided it was best to seek help from family. At the very least, his kin might aid his business in Jinzhou.

By afternoon, they arrived in Chang’an and took lodging at an inn in Chongren Ward, instructing his men to seek out the residence of Lord Li Xi.

Wei Fufeng planned to pay his visit before dusk, intending to petition Lord Li Xi directly for an official post.

After bathing at the inn, he changed into a somewhat worn sapphire robe. He feared that appearing too resplendent might put Li Xi off; he could not afford to be mistaken for a foppish youth.

His men soon returned with gifts and information about Li Xi.

Li Xi was well-known in Chang’an, a scholar-official renowned as “Li the Book Tower.” It was said his family collection numbered ten thousand volumes—a man of profound erudition and literary talent.

Upon hearing this, Wei Fufeng felt a headache coming on. Though he was educated, he was far from a literary genius—not even a fraction of one. He doubted he would find much common ground with Li Xi.

But desperate times called for desperate measures. He could only risk an abrupt visit, so after tidying himself and gathering the purchased gifts, he set out with Mingyu, guided by his retainer, to Xinchang Ward.

Xinchang Ward was home mostly to mid-ranking officials and wealthy scholars.

Xinchang Ward lay near the Yanxing Gate of Chang’an, with the Azure Dragon Temple nestled within; most noblewomen there were devotees of Buddhism.

Wei Fufeng stopped before the gates of Li Xi’s residence. It was not a grand mansion—beyond the flying eaves and gate tower, stone steps led up, but there were no imposing stone lions flanking the entrance.

The gate was somewhat weathered, its paint peeling, and not as stately as his grandfather’s residence. Only a single servant stood guard.

Wei Fufeng approached and politely inquired, “Is this the residence of Lord Li Xi?”

“It is,” replied the servant, a man of about forty with an honest demeanor.

Wei Fufeng introduced himself and asked specifically to see Lord Li Xi.

The servant, not daring to be neglectful, asked him to wait while he went inside to inform his master.

After a short wait, the servant returned and said respectfully, “Young Master Wei, my lord is not yet home, but the lady of the house sends word to invite you to the west wing to meet the Third Master.”

Wei Fufeng was briefly surprised. He had considered that Li Xi might not be home, but was puzzled why the servant hadn’t said so at first; normally when the master is absent, the servant would state so plainly.

“Li Xi is likely at home but unwilling to meet me, perhaps thinking I’m unworthy of an audience,” Wei Fufeng surmised, feeling a twinge of displeasure.

“Young Master Wei, the Third Master is your future father-in-law,” the servant explained, seeing his hesitation.

“Oh, thank you for leading the way,” Wei Fufeng replied courteously.

“This way, please,” the servant said, turning to lead Wei Fufeng and Mingyu through the gate.

Upon entering, they turned left, passing along a courtyard wall with a moon gate set into it.

Within the moon gate stood a middle-aged servant. “Old Zhao,” the first servant said, “this is Young Master Wei, the future son-in-law of the house.”

The middle-aged servant nodded, bowed respectfully, and said, “Please come in, Young Master Wei; my master awaits in the main hall.”

Wei Fufeng nodded and stepped through the moon gate into a courtyard filled with flowering trees. Following Old Zhao, they reached the main hall, which flanked two side chambers.

At the entrance to the hall stood a middle-aged man in a blue robe and belt, his face dignified, features well-formed, a neatly trimmed beard, and a gentle smile—an air of cultured friendliness.

Wei Fufeng felt a surge of relief; his future father-in-law was waiting to greet him at the door—a gesture of great respect.

He hurried forward, halted at the steps, and bowed formally. “Junior Fufeng pays his respects to Uncle.”

“Ha! Hearing of your arrival, my dear nephew, is an unexpected delight,” the man replied with a smile.

“If not for a matter of request, I would not have imposed upon you, Uncle. I beg your forgiveness for this sudden visit,” Wei Fufeng explained respectfully, making his intentions clear.

“Oh? Come inside, nephew,” the man said calmly, turning to lead them in. Wei Fufeng and Mingyu followed.

Once seated, a maid served tea. After the customary courtesies, the man glanced at Mingyu, who waited quietly beside them, and inquired, “Nephew, who is this?”

“A maid who served my lady mother. She sent her to the household to attend upon your daughter, to whom I am betrothed,” Wei Fufeng replied.

The man nodded and instructed the maid serving tea to escort Mingyu to the inner chambers.

Now alone, the man asked, “Nephew, what brings you here?”

Wei Fufeng, having prepared his answer, replied, “At my grandfather’s behest, I come to request office in Jinzhou. My grandfather hopes my father may be appointed Chief Clerk of Jinzhou, and I, the Deputy Magistrate of Xicheng County.”

The man’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head gently. “What you ask is not easily granted.”

“Uncle, Jinzhou is under direct control of the court; the positions of Chief Clerk and Deputy Magistrate carry little real power,” Wei Fufeng argued.

“Precisely because the court controls Jinzhou, those posts are not easily acquired. Though the offices hold little authority, they are official ranks nonetheless. Many covet such positions, if only for the opportunity to serve,” the man retorted.

“Uncle, Jinzhou has suffered from floods and mountain banditry—it is a land of poverty. I doubt there are many eager to take up office there,” Wei Fufeng pressed.

“If you know Jinzhou is impoverished, why do you seek office there?” his uncle countered.

“To be frank, Uncle, with Shangzhou seized by Han Jian, my grandfather seeks a fallback. We cannot wait until disaster strikes with nowhere to turn,” Wei Fufeng replied evasively.

The man frowned. “The Wei clan’s roots are in Chang’an. Your grandfather could always return here.”

“Uncle, my grandfather says if the court’s campaign against Hedong fails, Chang’an may again become unstable—another disaster like the Huang Chao rebellion could befall us,” Wei Fufeng argued further.

The man’s expression changed slightly. “Your grandfather believes the campaign against Hedong will fail?”

“Yes. He believes the imperial forces are little more than a rabble. Even if they defeat Li Keyong, they will have to face the wrath of the other warlords. Those lords will not stand by as Hedong falls under court control—once Li Keyong is defeated, they may unite against the imperial army,” Wei Fufeng continued to press his point.

The man nodded, his expression pensive. “The court is full of fools, blind to the dangers of bargaining with tigers. How perilous.”

Wei Fufeng was surprised, but then the man turned to him with gentle warmth. “You’ve traveled far and must be weary. Rest for now; I will go and see the lord and do my utmost on your behalf.”

Wei Fufeng rose in gratitude and offered a respectful bow.

...

Wei Fufeng was shown by a maid to a side chamber near the hall—he could hardly be expected to rest in the inner quarters.

Once inside, he called the maid to inquire about his future father-in-law’s family.

His intended father-in-law was named Li Ji, the third son of Lord Li Xi, born of a concubine, and held the office of Scholar at the Court of Imperial Sacrifices.

Lady Li Ji was of royal lineage and had two sons and two daughters; the younger daughter, his intended, was also of concubine birth and known as the Fourteenth Lady.

“Thirteen years old,” Wei Fufeng murmured to himself.

The legitimate daughter was fifteen, but as the union was to be with the younger, concubine-born daughter, thirteen was not unusual for a betrothal.

As for Li Ji’s office, the Court of Imperial Sacrifices was one of the nine ministries. The title of Scholar was a minor post, nominally of the seventh rank—essentially an empty sinecure. In the present troubled times, even the meager salary was likely unpaid.

After dismissing the maid, Wei Fufeng waited patiently for news. He had requested two offices, not out of greed, but as a psychological tactic.

By asking for two, even if Li Xi found it difficult to grant both, he would at least concede one.

Wei Fufeng knew full well that, being young and without any official standing, his chances of success were slim.

Li Xi could easily refuse without damaging his relationship with Wei Zhaodu, which is why Wei Fufeng petitioned on his father’s behalf.

For now, it was impossible for Wei Fufeng to use his status as Marquess of Fufeng to openly negotiate cooperation with Li Xi.

Li Xi was an imperial official; until Wei Fufeng had secured real power, seeking an alliance with him would be the height of folly.