Chapter 86: Seeking Shelter from the Snow at Wuting (5)

Kong Sheng walked on without pause, a faint sneer curling at the corner of his lips. This Li Xuan, sharp-tongued and overbearing, was clearly born of a grand family—one of those typical "second-generation" scions.

Allowing his unruly servant to stir up trouble first, then resorting to insolence when conversation failed to interest him, his arrogance was unmistakable. One could never hope to befriend such a person; the wisest course was simply to treat him as a passing stranger.

Mu Changfeng glanced back at Li Xuan, who stood at the edge of the pavilion, arms crossed, looking down with haughty disdain. Suddenly, Mu leaned close to Kong Sheng’s ear and laughed quietly, "Young master, that is actually a woman disguised as a man! Judging by her words and actions, she is certainly not a merchant!"

Kong Sheng smiled without replying: whether she is a woman or a merchant, it matters not—it has nothing to do with him.

Behind them, Wu Xian laughed loudly, "Magistrate Kong, that little servant from Peng City holds the scholars of Jiangnan in low regard. Yet, what he says is not wholly untrue. We brothers, following the imperial envoy Li Gonggong all the way here, have seen with our own eyes how Jiangnan and the Central Plains are worlds apart. Whether scholar, merchant, or farmer, they all lack a certain vigor, caring only for their own doorstep and not the fate of others."

"But Magistrate Kong, you ought to make your status known. The fact that we knowingly venture into dangerous Henan, driven by pure loyalty to serve the nation, cannot be sullied or insulted by him!"

Wu Jie was a taciturn man; though he agreed with his elder brother, he kept his thoughts to himself, not expressing them aloud like Wu Xian.

Kong Sheng mounted his horse and smiled, "Wu Xian, regardless of what others say, I, Kong, am now heading into the nation’s peril, bound for Suiyang. As for this so-called 'vigor,' it is but empty words—everyone has their own logic, whether in agreement or opposition. But you two are Deputy Commanders of the Imperial Guard, and now you follow me into Henan, a journey fraught with danger. If you regret your decision, you are free to return to Jiangning."

Wu Xian curled his lip, "We brothers were ordered by the imperial envoy to escort you to Suiyang. Do you take us for cowards? Don’t try to provoke us with words. Since we’ve promised to accompany you to your post, we will never go back on our word!"

"Oh? In that case, let’s hurry and make for the road."

Kong Sheng pressed his horse’s flanks and waved his whip, urging his steed, which trod through the snow, slowly toward Runzhou City. Mu Changfeng whistled into the wind, slapped his horse’s head, and shouted, "Wu Xian, Wu Jie—stop your bickering back there, the journey is urgent!"

Back at the pavilion, the swaggering servant’s arrogance vanished. He bowed respectfully before the richly dressed youth, Li Xuan. "Young master, shall we return to the city?"

Li Xuan still gazed at Kong Sheng’s group receding into the distance, his voice solemn. "Li An, the military situation is urgent before the battle. We were ordered to come to Jiangnan to purchase grain and supplies. If all goes well, we should depart for Peng City tomorrow or the day after."

"Young master, over the past few days, I’ve sent men to secretly buy grain in Runzhou, Yangzhou, and Jiangning, and have secured ten thousand bushels of rice," Li An replied softly.

Li Xuan’s brows knitted tightly. "Only ten thousand bushels? Peng City’s garrison numbers fifty thousand, and there are more than a hundred thousand civilians. This paltry amount is barely a drop in the bucket!"

Li An grumbled, "Young master, the grain merchants in these three provinces are hoarding stocks and raising prices, selling a single bushel for nearly eight hundred coins. Our funds are limited; we could only manage ten thousand bushels—this sum is already the prince’s entire fortune, exhausted for this purpose. Any more is simply impossible."

"Young master, the prince ought to command the officials of Jiangnan and Huainan to gather grain and support the army north of the Yangtze. Jiangnan is rich in grain; even without excess, tens of thousands of bushels could be managed! These Jiangnan folk watch the north struggle against rebels and remain unmoved—truly hateful!"

Li Xuan sighed softly, "Li An, do not mention this again. To transfer grain from Jiangnan and Huainan, only an imperial decree will suffice—this is beyond our power. Jiangnan has not suffered the ravages of war: it is stable, prosperous, with ample supplies and strong troops. If Jiangnan’s armies could march north, the situation in the north would change instantly."

"But the court is far away in Lingwu, the new emperor has hastily ascended, the realm is chaotic, imperial authority weakened. Jiangnan has long been content in its corner; local officials seek only to preserve their own strength. Even if His Majesty decreed it, I doubt it would be effective..." Li Xuan’s lips curled, "Henan’s defense against the rebels cannot rely on the court for now. We can only do what we can and leave the rest to fate!"

"Come, let’s return to the city. Tomorrow we’ll escort the grain convoy, taking the Shouzhou route back to Peng City, where the army will send troops to meet us. Here, on the border of Jiangnan and Huainan, things are manageable, but beyond Shouzhou, bandits roam free. We must not let our guard down—the grain is the lifeblood of Peng City’s army, not a single misstep can be allowed!"

Li Xuan waved his hand, his figure flashing as he leapt down from the pavilion, lifted the snow-laden curtain of the carriage, and slipped inside. The maid hurried after him, carrying all manner of utensils and carefully climbed into the carriage.

Li An let out a long breath, strode down, shook the snow from the carriage shafts, and led the vehicle onto the main road.

Within Runzhou City.

Kong Sheng and his companions entered the city, found a modest inn, and settled in. After a simple meal of food and wine, each retreated to rest. Having traveled most of the night and spent hours in a ruined temple in the wilderness, both men and horses were in need of proper recuperation.

According to Kong Sheng’s plan, today would be spent resting in Runzhou for half a day and night, and then the next morning, they would depart for Shouzhou. The journey from Runzhou to Shouzhou was nearly five hundred li; even at a fast pace, it would take at least four or five days. Upon reaching Shouzhou, they would decide whether to take the route through Yingzhou, Caizhou, or Xuzhou to enter Suiyang.

Yingzhou was the nearest, Xuzhou the next, and Caizhou the farthest, requiring a detour. But with war raging and rebel forces rampant, safety sometimes required taking the long way around.

Unlike Mu Changfeng or the Wu brothers, Kong Sheng could not sleep soundly or relax half in training, half in repose. At this moment, there was so much weighing on his mind—so many worries, so much pressure about his appointment in Suiyang—all pressing heavily on his heart, making sleep impossible.

No one understood the risks of his journey to Suiyang better than he did. If anything went wrong, it wasn’t just his future at stake—it was his very life. How to reach Suiyang safely, and then how to reverse the tragic fate of the impending defense of Suiyang, both hung over him like a Damocles’ sword.

There was opportunity, yes, but the moment of action was fleeting; any misstep could mean disaster. Yet, since fate had thrust him into the eye of the storm, since he had resolved to struggle against heaven and destiny, he would press forward without hesitation or regret.

Life offers few chances to fight for something grand; if he must fight, let it be for glory! If he failed, at worst, he would give his life back to the heavens—what was there to fear?

In truth, from the moment he left Jiangning, there was no turning back, nor could he ever return.

Lying on the soft bed, Kong Sheng sighed quietly. Never had he imagined that fate would play such a colossal joke, sending him to the very heart of An Lushan’s rebellion in Suiyang as the magistrate of Song City! Perhaps this was destiny’s arrangement; from the moment he dreamed himself into the Tang Dynasty, his path had already been set.