Chapter Seventy-Seven: Establishing the Heir Apparent

“Master, why can’t you say it?” Tao’er asked with a hint of grievance. “Wouldn’t it be better for the family to live in harmony?”

“Harmony alone is indeed fine, but do you understand what’s entangled beneath it?” Jiang Wen took a deep breath, striving to speak calmly. “Now, the two sons of the Prime Minister are vying for the position of heir. If the Prime Minister truly passes away, the two will inevitably fight for power, and the current situation cannot withstand such turmoil!”

Tao’er nodded, half understanding.

“What a silly girl!” Jiang Wen pinched her nose gently. “Go and prepare the horses!”

Outside the Jiang residence, Jiang Wen finished packing, mounted his horse, and sped toward Lujiang.

After the battle at Guandu, the reason Cao Cao could swiftly conquer Hebei was largely due to infighting among the Yuan clan.

Now, the military power is in the hands of veteran generals under the Prime Minister, who, due to disputes over land, are at odds with Sun Ce.

If Sun Jian truly falls, the succession struggle will settle, and the fate of this family will be sealed.

How deadly! Their fortune is truly ill-starred.

Lujiang, Sun Jian’s camp.

Sun Jian, pale-faced and clad in undergarments, lay quietly on his bed, surrounded by medical officials checking his pulse.

Sun Quan and the old generals stood outside the tent, anxiously waiting.

“Who was on duty that night? Why did the Prime Minister leave camp alone without reporting to me?” Cheng Pu roared in fury.

The generals remained silent. “Fine!” Cheng Pu laughed angrily, nodding. “Let bygones be bygones. Who will follow me to lead the troops and avenge the Prime Minister by killing Yuan Shu?”

“I am willing!”

“I am willing!”

“I’ll go with the general as well, and fight to the death!”

The old generals were fired up, their faces flushed.

“Enough!” Sun Quan shouted angrily. “If anyone dares to step out of the camp today, I’ll deal with them according to military law.”

Zu Mao protested, “Zhongmou, the Prime Minister is in such a state. As his son, shouldn’t you avenge your father?!”

“Precisely because I am his son, you must heed my words. The troops’ morale is low. If we rush out unprepared and fall into an ambush, all my father’s years of foundation will be ruined in an instant. Never mind the soldiers’ lives—behind us are our homes and our country!”

Sun Quan threw his sword to the ground, his eyes blazing. “If anyone insists on going, pick up the sword and kill me first!”

The old generals, holding back their anger, saluted Sun Quan and stood aside.

“Military Advisor and Libationer has arrived!”

Jiang Wen rushed over in haste. “How is the Prime Minister’s injury?”

Sun Quan looked Jiang Wen up and down. “I do not know.”

Jiang Wen glanced at the old generals, all glaring at him with murderous intent. He swallowed hard and instinctively stood at the back of the group, shrinking his head. “Then I’ll wait here with you all.”

Inside the tent, the medical officials huddled, quietly discussing.

The Prime Minister’s injuries were grave. They had done all they could. Now it was up to him to pull through.

“Why is it so noisy outside? Who just arrived?”

The medical officials knelt. Sun Jing bowed and replied, “Prime Minister, the Military Advisor and Libationer has come.”

“This man is truly swift,” Sun Jian said weakly, his lips parched. “Summon Zhongmou to see me.”

“Yes.” Sun Jing bowed and went outside. “Zhongmou, the Prime Minister calls you in.”

The anxious generals waiting outside were stunned, then joy lit up their faces.

“The Prime Minister’s awake?!” Cheng Pu said with a smile. “I want to go in and see him!”

“Wait, General Cheng! I want to go too!”

...

Sun Jing blocked their way. “The Prime Minister needs rest. Only Zhongmou is summoned. Please withdraw for now, generals.”

“Very well,” Cheng Pu laughed heartily as he left. “Since the Prime Minister is awake, I’ll prepare several jars of fine wine. When he recovers, we shall drink until we drop, hahahaha!”

Jiang Wen stepped forward to inquire, “General Sun...”

“Libationer, please stay. The Prime Minister will speak with you directly.”

Sun Quan entered the tent and saw Sun Jian sitting up, the medical officials already dismissed. Smiling, Sun Jian said, “These old fellows really do act recklessly.”

“Greetings, Father. How is your injury...?”

“Cough, cough...” Sun Jian coughed, looking at the blood in his hand. “I fear it won’t recover. Come here.”

“Father.”

Sun Quan stepped close. Sun Jian looked his son in the eye. “I heard everything outside. You are indeed more shrewd than your elder brother, better suited to be a king. I had hoped to nurture you slowly, but fate has its own plans.”

“Father, I—”

“I know you are unwilling,” Sun Jian said gently, “but now is an era of warlords competing for supremacy. Your brother is more suited to pacify the chaos. I hope you won’t oppose him. Assist your brother well, help him appease the old generals, and be dutiful to your mother.”

Sun Quan clenched his fists, his nails digging into flesh. Sun Jian’s gaze was calm; he had no strength left to guide him. What comes next is up to Sun Quan.

Sun Quan took a deep breath, striving to keep his tone even, and nodded. “Your son understands. I take my leave.”

Sun Jian closed his eyes. “Call in the Libationer.”

Sun Quan exited the tent, his face unexpectedly grim. Jiang Wen’s heart lurched; his fears had come true.

“Libationer, the Prime Minister calls you in.”

Jiang Wen entered the tent. Sun Jian wore a smile—yet it was so forced it made one uneasy.

“Your servant, Military Advisor and Libationer Jiang Wen, pays respects to the Prime Minister!” Jiang Wen bowed.

“From Red Cliffs to Lujiang, it takes at least two months. Libationer, you are quite swift.”

Jiang Wen replied respectfully, “I received orders to go to Red Cliffs, but as the battle was already settled, I stayed at Xiangyang. May I ask what urgent matter the Prime Minister summons me for?”

“You came from Xiangyang to see me—why?”

Sun Jian smiled. “Between my two sons, whom do you think I favor?”

“Zhongmou, the younger son,” Jiang Wen answered.

Sun Jian laughed, but his breath faltered and he coughed, wiping blood from his lips. “You can now win back a portion for Bofu, and that portion will decide whether Bofu becomes heir.”

Jiang Wen’s heart stirred, and he cautiously observed Sun Jian. “May I ask what the Prime Minister wishes me to do?”

Sun Jian drew a finely crafted knife from beneath his pillow and tossed it before Jiang Wen. “The world’s sharpest blade is the Seven-Star Knife. In the past, Cao Mengde used it to stab Dong Zhuo. This knife is not as famed, but it can easily take a life.”

“Whose life does the Prime Minister seek?” Jiang Wen guessed, sweat soaking his back.

“Yours!”

As expected, Jiang Wen lowered his head, silent, his expression flickering. Sun Jian continued, “I know Bofu’s character—honest and sincere. Gongjin has been his companion since childhood. Ziming lacks cunning. Only you make me uneasy!”

“You are talented, shrewd. If you remain, Bofu will consult you on everything. A king must rule the realm, not be overshadowed by a powerful minister. ‘Lonely ruler’ is not an empty term.”

“If you take your own life here, I will immediately issue a decree naming Bofu heir. Libationer, are you willing?”