Chapter 4: The Gradual Trumpet of War

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Last night, Li Wan did not wait at Yang Hu’s residence for Shi Shouxin but was instead driven home by her elder brother, Li Gu. The reason was straightforward: her father, Li Yin, had received an imperial edict transferring him from Guanzhong back to Luoyang to serve as the Deputy Censor-in-Chief.

This position held significant authority to supervise and impeach officials, placing him at a crucial nexus within the central government. Essentially, with just a pretext, he could bring down high-ranking central officials, making him a sharp instrument in the hands of those in power.

Clearly, Li Wan’s marriage to Shi Shouxin did not diminish her father Li Yin’s standing in Sima Zhao’s eyes. To consolidate control over the court, Sima Zhao was methodically placing key trusted aides from his Grand General’s headquarters into important government posts.

As for his eldest son’s failed romantic pursuits, Sima Zhao considered such matters trivial compared to his grand ambition of usurpation. He would promote and utilize those capable without hesitation.

“Stabilize the internal before confronting external threats.” Li Yin’s rise signaled an imminent purge within the court orchestrated by Sima Zhao, with Shi Shouxin’s father-in-law acting as the executioner.

The campaign against Shu was equally overt.

Usurpation and the invasion of Shu were two sides of the same coin: to seize power, the conquest of Shu had to succeed; failure would severely undermine the usurpation plan.

Rushing back from Guanzhong to Luoyang, Li Yin sought out his son-in-law Shi Shouxin even before entering the city to discuss their next steps and their family’s future. Unfortunately, Shi Shouxin was away delivering “research samples” to Yang Hu’s residence.

By the time Shi Shouxin returned the next day, Li Yin had already gone to the Grand General’s mansion to collect his official seal, leaving only Li Gu.

Upon meeting, Shi Shouxin’s words left Li Gu speechless.

“Brother-in-law, the Grand General has already decided who will lead the campaign against Shu, which is why my father-in-law must resign his post and return to the court to secure the rear. The appointment of the Guanzhong commander will soon be revealed.”

In the study, Shi Shouxin looked gravely at Li Gu.

Hearing this, Li Gu was deeply impressed by Li Yin’s foresight. No wonder he valued his son-in-law so highly.

“How do you mean?” Li Gu asked, though half-believing already.

“My father-in-law lacks military talent. He stayed in Guanzhong for two years not to lead troops into battle but because he is honest and upright. The Grand General wants him to organize the military, build up supplies, and stockpile grain—not to attack anyone.

“Now that this task is nearly complete, the Grand General has likely inspected and been very pleased. Therefore, two orders have been issued: one to recall my father-in-law to the court, promoting him and granting him significant power to strengthen control there; and two, to appoint a new commander to lead the campaign against Shu and push the invasion forward.”

Shi Shouxin spoke with certainty.

This was almost an open-book test for him; as long as he avoided tactical details, it was no great challenge. Although currently only a “low-level official” suitable for humble origins, his information channels remained open.

“Ah, brother-in-law, you’re absolutely right! Why didn’t I think of that?” Li Gu was frustrated. Answers that seem so obvious are worth nothing once revealed, yet before that, most are stumped, testing one’s strategic acumen.

He now firmly believed Shi Shouxin’s strategic insight far surpassed his own.

It wasn’t just that Li Wan loved Shi Shouxin madly and unconditionally—the man’s ability and vision alone made this match worthwhile.

“Father asked me to inquire whether you want to continue serving in the central government or gain experience elsewhere. I’ve heard you’ve made a name for yourself at the Treasury Department these past two years; Father can recommend you for a position. He’s known for promoting talent regardless of kinship, so please don’t hesitate.”

Li Gu continued.

In the Celestial Dragon circles, officialdom was the path to advancement—there was simply no alternative in this era except for those who transmigrated as emperors.

Shi Shouxin had proposed marriage to Li Wan from their very first meeting—not just to play at love and treasure a beauty, but because his father-in-law’s influence was a valuable asset. There was no shame in this; everyone played the game this way.

Whether the wife was personally likable or compatible was secondary. If you were capable, it meant you could find a worthy wife and father-in-law. If not, others would trample you without mercy because your failure to secure good family ties reflected your inadequacy.

Both personal and family capabilities mattered greatly.

Moreover, maintaining spousal relations and ties to the wife’s family required time and effort, testing one’s comprehensive ability.

Thus, when Shi Shouxin could spend days with Li Wan inventing new games and openly display a relationship envied by many, it spoke volumes to many Celestial Dragons.

A man who could handle a wife from an official family, her father, and her brother-in-law surely was no mediocre figure.

There was no need for Shi Shouxin to boast about his talents.

“I’m not sure yet. Anyway... tomorrow I must go to Hedong to deliver an official summons to Ji Kang.”

Shi Shouxin looked troubled.

His father-in-law’s recommendation was good, but he couldn’t neglect Yang Hu and Shan Tao. Shan Tao clearly wished to support him, a relationship worth cultivating long-term.

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Refusing outright would offend them, especially causing Yang Hu embarrassment.

If successful, Shan Tao might recommend Shi Shouxin to participate in the campaign against Shu in Guanzhong, another path of “progress.”

Shi Shouxin preferred to delay the father-in-law matter, since Li Wan was understanding, and the family could discuss it gradually.

“Uh, brother-in-law, who do you think will lead the campaign against Shu?”

Li Gu suddenly leaned in and whispered.

So far, the Shu campaign proposals had been pushed by agents of Sima Zhao to test the waters—who would support or oppose this plan.

The results showed nearly unanimous opposition, with many claiming the timing was premature.

It seemed the campaign might quietly die amid dissent, but any politically savvy Celestial Dragon knew the invasion was inevitable.

Sima Zhao wanted to usurp power; he could not afford to hold back.

Previously, his attempt to ascend as Duke of Jin was thwarted by Cao Mao, ending any hope of gradual ascension.

Hence, Sima Zhao planned to emulate Cao Cao’s path: first secure the Duke of Jin title to pass to his son, then replace Wei with Jin, and finally claim the throne, completing his ambition during Sima Yan’s generation.

Perhaps Sima Zhao already felt cursed by Cao Mao’s opposition—he would never become emperor in his lifetime.

Even Li Gu, a mid-level figure, saw this clearly.

Yet, while the campaign’s inevitability was certain, the identity of the commanding general remained uncertain. Knowing the leader was key to gaining political advantage and arranging ahead.

“That’s hard to say. The Grand General might even lead the army himself.”

Shi Shouxin feigned ignorance to avoid entanglement.

Li Gu sighed disappointedly.

“If only we knew—we could make connections early. Success in the Shu campaign would be a feat worthy of promotion. If others feast on the meat, I’d be content just to sip the broth.”

The Celestial Dragons of Wei, indeed all Celestial Dragons everywhere, had entered an era of “zero-sum competition.”

Military honors were harder to come by; territories could no longer be seized freely as during the early Three Kingdoms.

The official ranks were fixed, with limited posts, while the number of Celestial Dragons marrying and having offspring increased, swelling the pool of candidates for office.

Constant competition was inevitable.

For second-generation Celestial Dragons like Li Gu or newcomers like Shi Shouxin absorbed into the circle, steady official careers were still attainable.

But their descendants would face far steeper challenges.

Everyone had connections; only the strongest backgrounds would prevail.

Shi Shouxin had served two years at the Treasury, supported by patrons, creating useful new weapons and farming tools.

Yet he had only risen slightly—from “Research Group Leader” to “Research Section Chief.” A minor promotion in the nine-rank system; only a major leap would mark real success.

Others remained stagnant, some even demoted to subordinates, whispering criticisms behind his back.

They said Shi Shouxin relied solely on his father-in-law’s “superpowers” and womanizing skills to advance.

In short, they refused to acknowledge his superior talent but dared not speak ill to his face.

They claimed he owed everything to his father-in-law.

As for the attention from “noble figures” like Yang Hu, they believed it was only because he was Li Yin’s son-in-law.

Rumors were a fearful thing; one never knew how kindly people presented themselves face-to-face while scheming behind one’s back.

Shi Shouxin chose to ignore such gossip, avoiding argument, knowing that would only provoke more.

After chatting briefly, Li Gu left, promising to visit more often to look after his sister during Shi Shouxin’s official duties.

Shi Shouxin hurriedly prepared to depart, spending the evening joyfully with Li Wan in their bedroom.

Early the next morning, he went alone to Yang Hu’s residence bearing a modest gift to express his thanks.

...

In the Grand General’s study, Sima Zhao sat brooding over a letter from Deng Ai, the General Who Conquers the West, sent from Longyou.

Deng Ai bluntly wrote that Jiang Wei’s Shu forces remained formidable, and no opportunity for invasion had yet arisen. Rash action risked repeating Cao Shuang’s past failures.

He advised patience, noting Shu’s exhaustion; when the time came, Wei’s army could sweep through to Chengdu with ease.

Deng Ai was not a core member of the Sima family but a rising talent once favored by Sima Yi.

He was indeed a late bloomer due to humble origins and had wasted twenty years before emerging.

His inability to rise further was partly due to his low emotional intelligence.

This letter showed his bluntness clearly.

On one hand, he genuinely cared for the state, offering sensible suggestions based on frontline experience with Jiang Wei. His letter would greatly influence court opinion on the Shu campaign.

On the other hand, he completely missed Sima Zhao’s true intent.

The power broker did not seek glory by conquering Shu but aimed to amass military merit to facilitate usurpation and distract critics.

Yet Deng Ai kept urging caution against invading Shu.

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This raised doubts in Sima Zhao’s mind: Was Deng Ai truly loyal, or did he harbor other intentions?

With the prior rebellions in Huainan, who could be certain Deng Ai was sincere? Yong and Liang were far from Luoyang.

This letter sowed suspicion toward Deng Ai.

However, Deng Ai’s achievements in the northwest made him a pillar of that region. Eliminating him rashly would leave no suitable replacement soon.

At Deng Ai’s age, Sima Zhao planned to expend his usefulness in the upcoming campaign, then assign him a sinecure at court to retire comfortably, while placing a more trustworthy confidant in the northwest.

This would remove Deng Ai while preserving appearances.

At that moment, Yang Huiyu, dressed in a pale gray-white silk gown, was escorted into the study by a servant. Sima Zhao eyed her curiously, unsure of the intent.

That attire was typically worn for mourning rituals.

“Grand General, I wish to visit Mount Mang today to pay respects to my late husband. I come to inform you and seek your approval,” Yang Huiyu said politely.

“Oh, Sister-in-law, you are too courteous. As a member of the Sima family and widow of my elder brother, you may visit anytime. I, however, am busy with state affairs and cannot accompany you. Please write the memorial text on my behalf.”

Sima Zhao glanced at his striking sister-in-law, suppressing his inner desire, speaking disingenuously.

Yang Huiyu was renowned for her literary talent, so composing the memorial would be no problem. Sima Zhao had no real objection.

“Very well. I shall set out now and take care of the memorial text,” Yang Huiyu bowed deeply and departed.

Sima Zhao was the sort to forget immediately if you told him your plans in advance—overwhelmed by affairs—but if you didn’t inform him, he would grow suspicious and probe afterward.

He promptly forgot about Yang Huiyu’s visit to honor Sima Shi and never thought of it again.

Leaving the Grand General’s mansion, Yang Huiyu returned to Yang Hu’s residence to bid farewell.

Unexpectedly, as she entered the main hall, she saw Yang Hu laughing intimately with a young man—undoubtedly Shi Shouxin.

She instantly recognized him as the man with whom she had shared passionate intimacy the previous night.

She had thought it would take much effort to uncover his identity, but the truth came effortlessly.

She froze in place, her heart pounding wildly, unable to move.

That night’s kisses had been so fervent, so lingering, so unforgettable.

Her body almost collapsed, as if frozen in place.

“Ah, sister has arrived,” Yang Hu said, noticing her strange expression and assuming she was unwell. He quickly supported her arm and seated her beside him.

He introduced, “This is my elder sister, the widow of the Grand General’s brother.”

Shi Shouxin wondered to himself: Sima Shi’s wife? She looked so young—perhaps a concubine?

He bowed politely and greeted, “I am Shi Shouxin. Pleased to meet you, madam.”

This lady was graceful and composed, but Shi Shouxin couldn’t help feeling her attire was peculiar.

How to describe it? It bore the aura of a tragic heroine from an adult film.

The clothing appeared modest at first glance, covering everything but her long neck wrapped in a white veil, revealing a bit of pale skin.

Yet, on closer inspection, there was an indescribable allure, as if each fabric whispered feminine charm.

Yang Huiyu, uncomfortable under his gaze, cleared her throat to mask her embarrassment and turned to Yang Hu.

“I must now go to sweep my late husband’s grave at Mount Mang, not far from Luoyang. You know the way. Since it’s still early, please escort me.”

Such a request was impossible to decline—after all, Sima Shi was Sima Zhao’s own brother, and he was not a magnanimous man.

“Of course. You should prepare to depart for Hedong. I’ll accompany my sister to the tomb. When you return from your duties, we shall drink and celebrate together.”

Yang Hu looked apologetic toward Shi Shouxin.

“Very well, let him come too; more company makes it livelier. We can head to Hedong afterward since it’s on the way.

Mount Mang has many graves; I’m a bit uneasy.”

Yang Huiyu suggested casually, offering a flimsy excuse.

Yang Hu’s expression turned strange but he said nothing, merely nodding to her.

Shi Shouxin, unaware of any connection, was about to decline, but noticed Yang Hu signaling to him.

He was forced to bow and follow them out of the residence.