Chapter 712: Chapter 712: What a Pity

Mr. Songshan had once privately asked Qin Yuan as well whether the Emperor would, on account of the rumors circulating among the common folk, put aside his suspicion of Marquis Gu and use this grand review to make some amends.

Qin Yuan gave a bitter smile. "So long as the Marquis does not hand over the Gu Family Army for even a single moment, the Emperor’s suspicion will not lift for even a single moment. Even if the rumors dispel a little of it, it only means he’ll cherish the blade a bit more when he uses it."

Who ever cares about how a blade feels? Thunder and rain alike are imperial favor.

Mr. Songshan was deeply indignant. "All under Heaven say the Marquis’s merits are such that to grant him the title of Duke would be no more than his due. For the Emperor to act like this—does he not fear chilling the hearts of all military generals? Who will risk their lives for him in the future?"

Mr. Songshan had never concealed his designs from her.

The common folk are prosperous now; to rebel would be nothing more than a moment’s venting of anger, with absolutely no hope of success.

In truth, there are not many paths of survival left open to Marquis Gu.

This much the Emperor knows, and Marquis Gu knows.

Mr. Songshan ought to know it too.

Qin Yuan had long been making her own plans, but it was not convenient to say more, so she spoke as if in idle chat. "Sir, do you not know? The Emperor believes there will be no warfare for a hundred years. Whether the hearts of the military generals burn hot or not is of little consequence; in days to come the court will belong to the civil servants."

Mr. Songshan stubbornly shook his head. "This old man does not know, and this old man does not believe it."

Qin Yuan smiled and let the topic drop.

Tonight upon the field, within the great formations of attack and defense, the soldiers were all fierce and valiant, well versed in the killing of enemies, their shouts shaking the heavens. Whoever saw it could not help but exclaim: Daxing is mighty.

Yet who could foresee that in no more than ten-odd years, greed and sloth would spread through Daxing’s armies like a plague.

High-ranking military officers, beaten down by civil servants and stripped of their fighting spirit, grew listless and dispirited, while the lower ranks simply muddled through their days.

And that was the better part of it.

There were others who colluded to eat empty pay, embezzling military rations and equipment.

They shielded one another, and gradually this became the norm of officialdom.

Perhaps the greatest weapon of the mediocre is to drag others into mediocrity along with them.

If anyone wished to do things properly and build a career through merit, they would instead be mocked by the many as out of step with the times.

The soldiers no longer had the fiery passion of fighting side by side with the generals; they became like scattered sand—some simply went out and doubled as bandits.

As for real warfare, they would not know how to fight it.

When bandits and rebels did rise in disorder, amnesty was most often the chosen solution.

A corrupt atmosphere needs only a few years, a decade or so, to take hold.

To build a disciplined, battle-hardened army, however, takes decades, even the blood and sweat of several generations.

The situation is stronger than any man.

Marquis Gu could only cling to the Gu Family Army handed down from his forebears, stifled and resentful, trapped in the Capital City.

In her previous life, after she and Lin Ziqi returned to the Capital City, Lin Ziqi, together with other civil servants, memorialized again and again that the annual grand review was too costly, and besides, there had been no wars for many years; the four seas were at peace, and the petty states on the borders all came to pay tribute.

Many foreign scholars came to Daxing to study, receiving the teachings of Confucianism at the Imperial College, honoring Confucian rites. When they returned to their own lands, they spread Daxing’s renown, causing their countries to revere the superior state of Daxing all the more.

To lay down arms and exalt literature, to make these tributary states too set aside their blades—this was the kind of moral transformation only a Saint could achieve.

The Emperor was bent on being a Holy Emperor; naturally he agreed.

Lin Ziqi had once argued with her: "Who does not know that the Yelv Family will one day become a mortal threat to Daxing? But that is a matter for future rulers and ministers. What lies before us now is the proper business of how to serve in office and gain promotion.

My rank is low; if I speak the truth, who could tolerate me? Do you think it is still the time when Chief Minister Pan was in office? Once I become Grand Secretary, it will naturally be different."

When he attained the position of Grand Secretary, he said instead: "And what of being Grand Secretary? If I differ from the Emperor, if I cannot read his mind, if I fail to keep the hundred officials in hand, being driven out of the cabinet would take no more than the snap of a finger.

Everyone says that back then Chief Minister Pan dared to speak, and was a model for all Pure Stream officials under Heaven.

I say he was sly and sly to the bone!

He retired to his hometown to rest, preserving his reputation and his life, and left this rotten mess to those who came after.

Since my reputation is doomed anyway, I must at least preserve my life.

Ten years of bitter study, then long years of hardship floating on the sea of officialdom before I could rise to high office—should I not enjoy it properly?

They all say one learns civil and martial arts to sell them to the Emperor’s house. Who said it was for the sake of the realm?"

When even the Grand Secretary acted thus, what hope could one have of anyone else?

With more and more men like this at court, those unwilling to go along with the stream had no place to stand.

Where black crows flock, the very existence of a white crow is deemed a mistake, let alone that of a white swan.

Little by little, the entire court became steeped in indulgence and pleasure.

The flourishing Daxing turned from prosperity to hollow decay until only an empty shell remained, so quickly it made one clutch one’s chest in regret.

Qin Yuan could not bear to see it, yet she was powerless to change it.

Her title of noble lady, her wealth and status, all depended on Lin Ziqi. As Lin Ziqi’s rank rose higher and higher, their views on many matters were no longer in harmony as they had been when he was a minor county magistrate in a poor county of Jiangxi, struggling to get through the days.

Lin Ziqi began to find her lacking in sense of the times. In front of his various concubines and his sons and daughters born of concubines, he would mock her, saying that women ought not to study. Men study for official rank and honor—does a woman intend to sit for the civil examinations as well?

Unable to sit the exams, she instead read her temperament crooked—thinking herself well informed yet utterly ignorant of officialdom’s ways, and of the principles of livelihood and self-preservation, always at odds with her husband within the household, of no use at all, not even as good as a concubine who serves others by her beauty.

Her talent, her ambitions, when Lin Ziqi’s standing was low, had helped him lay bricks and tiles; once he soared high, she could only cling as an ornament, unable to shine in public, able only to bend and never to stretch.

Should she differ from him even slightly, she would be worn down and trampled.

Others envied her life as the Prime Minister’s wife; she herself suffered as if boiling in oil.

One can only say that each person has their own bitterness, none of it fit to be told to outsiders.

Having been reborn into another life, besides eating and sleeping well, Qin Yuan wished to open herself up and calmly exercise her own abilities.

She had not imagined that such a wish would be realized, albeit by accident and misstep, because of Qin Wan.

Qin Yuan watched with ardent gaze the galloping male figures on the field; at this moment Daxing was at its most martial, and at its most mighty.

And the man she was to marry was the most martial, most valiant, and most dazzling of them all.

"Dingbei Marquis, mighty!"

On the archery review ground, Marquis Wuding exclaimed, "Once Marquis Gu takes the field, who can vie with him?"

Ten arrows loosed in succession, their momentum like a long rainbow transfixing the sun, carrying with them a wind that roared in the ears, piercing clean through the thick wooden target.

One had to ask: who could withstand such an arrow?

Marquis Gu put away his bow and laughed. "I’ve always been at the Northern Border, never slackening. I absolutely cannot let the Yelv Clan beat us and mock that the Gu Family has no men."

Marquis Wuding stroked his carefully groomed beard and sighed. "Skill comes from diligence and is wasted in play. If we descendants of the nobles do not excel in martial arts, we are bound to be laughed at, and even bring shame upon our ancestors’ faces. Everyone understands this principle, yet there is no one who does not dote on his children. Training in the severest days of winter and the hottest days of summer—that’s the easy part. Those raised in nests of wealth and honor, yet still able to endure hardship of their own accord, are truly rare."

Clad in bright red informal robes, a dark military crown upon his head, Marquis Gu sat astride the black charger Ta Xue; under the clear blaze of torchlight, he seemed all the more heroic and unbridled.

Marquis Wuding could not help but feel a surge of emotion.

The Gu Family’s third son—so dazzling, and truly, such a pity.

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