Chapter Thirteen: Holding the Emperor as a Pawn

Sun Jian sat back on his bed, his expression icy as he waved his hand at the soldiers. “Leave us.”

He spoke with a stony face. “Sir Minister, do you not know I am a servant of the Han? I eat the Han’s grain; since I have met the Son of Heaven, should I not fulfill the duty of a loyal subject? Or ought I to follow Dong Zhuo’s example and seize control of the emperor? Do you not know why the eighteen warlords rose to oppose the Minister? With such words, do you mean to put me on the fire and roast me?”

Jiang Wen bowed deeply. “I have already said this before and must implore you, General, to heed my counsel! You are a man of Han, that I well know. But do you not see? Dong Zhuo is arrogant and witless. He may command troops, but he lacks vision. He debauched the imperial harem, deposed the emperor, and even poisoned the Empress Dowager. Though he holds the emperor, the old ministers of Han have no affection for him. His only means of intimidating the court is the army he commands!”

“You are not like Dong Zhuo. In leading troops, he is not your equal; in magnanimity, he is not your equal; in accepting advice, again not your equal; in governing the people with virtue, he falls far short! Where Dong Zhuo’s rule brings chaos and discord, your governance in Jiangdong has won the people’s hearts. This, he cannot match. How then could Dong Zhuo compare with you?”

Jiang Wen watched Sun Jian closely; the general’s anger had already vanished, replaced by deep thought. So Jiang Wen continued, “Now the campaign against Dong Zhuo is clear to the world. While the warlords delay for their own gain, who led thirty thousand men to break Hua Xiong’s fifty thousand at Hulao Pass, slew Hua Xiong on the field, and captured Li Jue alive? Such glorious feats are enough to awe the court and the land!”

“To every loyal subject of Han, you are the great and faithful minister who would save the world! If we now welcome the emperor, it is the wish of all Han’s loyal men. They will not oppose you as they oppose Dong Zhuo, but rather support you wholeheartedly. The gentry and talent under the banners of Han’s ministers, their resources and men, will surely flow to your side in endless numbers! As Li Ru said, the emperor is young and cannot rule alone; as long as you maintain a subject’s duty, all decisions will remain in your hands. With the court still standing, as long as you have the emperor, you may command the world in his name!”

Sun Jian’s anger had long since faded, his face now bright with joy. He strode forward and lifted Jiang Wen from the ground, clapping the dust from his clothes himself. “Well said! If things are as you claim, then our aim should indeed be the emperor. But Dong Zhuo’s forces are not few—if he is set on fleeing, how are we to rescue the emperor? And even if we do, what then of Dong Zhuo?”

“Rescuing the emperor depends on timing; when the moment comes, I will advise you,” Jiang Wen replied. “If we spirit the emperor away, what hold will Dong Zhuo have left over the ministers of Han? He will be left to struggle fruitlessly with the old guard, weakening as we grow stronger. In time, Dong Zhuo will be of no concern at all.”

“So if we rescue the emperor, Dong Zhuo will defeat himself? Hearing these words from you, sir, strikes me like thunder!” Sun Jian’s eyes shone with admiration as he clapped Jiang Wen’s shoulder. He knew this seventeen-year-old youth could not be measured by common standards; his insight and strategy were terrifying indeed!

“To have a strategist like you is my great fortune—and the misfortune of the other warlords! Go now and rest—I’ll have five hundred bushels of grain sent to you and ten veteran soldiers to attend you as a reward. As for further rewards, if we rescue the emperor, I’ll grant you more honors yet!”

“Allow me to take my leave.”

Jiang Wen withdrew five steps before turning to exit the tent. Sun Jing entered, bowing to Sun Jian.

“You Tai, what do you make of this man?”

“We must use him for our cause. If we cannot, then he must die.”

“Hahaha! Only seventeen and with such wit and cunning—you Tai, you cannot match him. Such a man as an enemy is too dangerous. If we cannot use him, he must die! We must make sure his loyalty to the Sun clan never wavers!”

Jiang Wen clutched his sleeve, glancing back at the tent and shaking his head. Since he had already thrown his lot in with Sun Jian, there was no turning back.

Xun Lingjun, I have borrowed your plan; now the emperor should belong to us. Compared to my lord’s army, the force at your lord Cao Cao’s command is truly pitiable.

Now that Li Jue is gone, Chang’an need only await Dong Zhuo’s death. Then Lü Bu can seize Dong Zhuo’s Xiliang troops and take Chang’an for himself.

When that time comes, Lü Bu’s power will be unmatched by any ordinary man. With Chen Gong’s aid, who knows if he can defeat Cao Cao? Without the emperor and with Lü Bu holding Chang’an, who can say how long Cao Cao can endure? Perhaps we may yet see Cao and Liu join forces to stand against Yuan Shao and Lü Bu.

Jiang Wen rather looked forward to Lü Bu removing Cao Cao for him. “Fengxian, I’ve done so much for you—don’t let yourself be destroyed by old Cao so easily.”

Returning to his tent, Jiang Wen, exhausted to the bone, threw himself down to sleep. “Hmm? What’s this, so soft…”

The next day, Jiang Wen stretched comfortably, rinsed his mouth with tea, and washed his face. To people of this era, tea was still just a medicine, not a beverage for guests.

He saw Tao’er come in, dark circles under her eyes and cheeks still flushed, carrying a bowl of steaming soup. “Master, have some soup.”

“Mm, it’s salty…” Jiang Wen took a sip of chicken soup and frowned.

“I’ll fetch some rainwater to dilute it.”

“It’s pouring out there. I’m shivering from the cold—bookboy, fetch me a bowl as well!”

“My greetings, Brother Ziming,” Jiang Wen said, rising to salute.

Lü Meng walked in, shedding his armor. “Those prisoners are truly unruly, all ruffians. How are we supposed to whip them into shape?”

“Is it raining?” Jiang Wen inquired.

Lü Meng nodded. “Yes, and colder than it was a few days ago!”

“Your soup, Master…” Tao’er placed the chicken soup before him. Lü Meng eyed her eagerly. “And mine?”

“There’s no more—this is the last bowl.”

“If you want it, Brother Ziming, you have it.” Jiang Wen handed him the bowl, and Lü Meng accepted without hesitation, downing it in a few gulps.

Jiang Wen asked, “Where’s Brother Bofu?”

“He’s drilling the troops. We don’t have enough tents for these ten thousand prisoners, so I told him to come here and get out of the rain. But he insisted on standing with the prisoners in the downpour, saying a leader must lead from the front.”

“Winning the soldiers’ hearts…” In ancient times, hierarchy between superior and subordinate was deeply ingrained. Even if a soldier lost an arm or a leg, as long as the commander humbled himself and showed a little concern, the troops would easily forgive him. For them, a master lowering himself to give an explanation was the greatest honor.

Now, these ten thousand men Sun Jian was integrating were prisoners—lower in status than ordinary soldiers. But to have Sun Jian’s eldest son stand in the rain alongside them would win their loyalty.

Jiang Wen had always treated them kindly these past days, and after this, those ten thousand soldiers would likely change allegiance.

As Jiang Wen drank his hot water, Lü Meng glanced mischievously at Tao’er sitting nearby. “Changsu, your bookboy’s in love. Whose servant is she?”

“In love?” Jiang Wen asked, “You know she’s a girl?”

“Of course—I’m not blind!”