Chapter Forty-Two: Another Encounter with Huru

Zong Luo Hou furrowed his brow after hearing Zhang Juntao’s report. “Then, General Li, what is your opinion?”

“I’ve heard much about Li Gui over the years and know him well enough to say he’s far from lacking ambition. The empire is restless, and everyone prepares for the worst. I have no doubt Li Gui is weaving his own clandestine schemes. Why not seize this opportunity to uproot him entirely, and avenge these common folk?” Li Wenyuan, unable to find a better argument to dissuade Zong Luo Hou, could only feign the air of a seer, as if divining what had yet to occur.

Zong Luo Hou seemed to grasp his meaning. “You suspect this was all at Li Mao’s instigation?”

Li Wenyuan shook his head. “That much remains unclear. Still, Yongdeng County falls within Wuwei Commandery; it’s very likely Li Mao is behind it. At the very least, his convenient presence here is no coincidence.”

“Is it possible he uses these ill-gotten gains to raise an army?” Zhang Juntao ventured.

“Very possible. This sort of thing must be happening throughout Wuwei. The local officials, under Li Gui’s influence, devour the imperial taxes and exact all manner of burdensome levies from the people. Their share goes straight to Li Gui, to buy soldiers and grain,” Li Wenyuan mused.

“But we have no proof, nor any legal means to bring Li Gui to justice,” Zhang Juntao protested.

“That part is easy,” Li Wenyuan replied with a smile. “He believes himself well hidden, his deeds invisible. But now we’ve stumbled upon a clue—so let’s keep silent, investigate in secret. Li Gui will show his hand soon enough.”

“Illegally raising troops for rebellion—according to the laws of the Sui, at worst we could execute a scapegoat, at best exterminate Li Gui’s entire household. It all depends on what we uncover,” Zhang Juntao said.

Li Wenyuan glanced at him. “If the roots aren’t plucked, the grass will grow anew when the spring wind blows.”

“But the late emperor once pardoned many nobles and royals of the Southern dynasty, to win the people’s trust,” Zhang Juntao replied, meeting his gaze squarely.

“And yet the late emperor also wiped out many Xianbei royal clans, laying the very foundations of the Sui,” Li Wenyuan retorted, unflinching.

It was then that Zong Luo Hou stepped in to make peace. “Gentlemen, allow me a word. I know little of governance, but in the army I have learned this: to rule, one must balance sternness and kindness, punishing the wicked to warn the rest.”

Zhang Juntao sighed deeply and bowed his head. “Forgive me, General. I overstepped.”

Li Wenyuan clapped Zhang Juntao on the shoulder. “But don’t worry—you have my word, I will not execute the innocent. I serve His Majesty, and only with swift and decisive action can we bring these unruly western officials to heel and earn the emperor’s favor. How else could I hope to become King of the Western Regions?”

Zhang Juntao nodded. Li Wenyuan understood that Zhang’s background was likely exalted—he would have no taste for such dark maneuverings. That was something Zhang would need to come to terms with in his own time; no one else could sway him.

By now, the moon had already sunk in the west. The three had toiled all night and were thoroughly exhausted. After dealing with the aftermath, they gathered their things and returned to the camp to rest.

The next day, as dawn broke, Zong Luo Hou, following Li Wenyuan’s plan, entered the county to investigate. Having grown up among the commoners, lively and streetwise, he was well-suited for such inquiries.

Zhang Juntao was left in the camp, tasked with drilling the troops and making a show of readiness to march against Zong Luo Hou, thereby reassuring the county magistrate.

As for Li Wenyuan, he accompanied the camp’s cook into town to purchase supplies. He wandered the streets of Yongdeng, letting his feet carry him while his mind searched for any thread of a lead, silently lamenting how difficult it was to act without his own network of informants.

It was then that a figure in the distance caught his eye—someone he recognized instantly: Badu, the formidable man he had once dueled.

Li Wenyuan thought to himself: Badu is Ashina Hulü’s personal bodyguard and never leaves his side. What is Hulü doing in this remote backwater?

He quickly decided to follow discreetly, shadowing Badu all the way to a tavern. It was not mealtime, so few patrons were present. Li Wenyuan found a secluded corner, ordered simple fare, and listened closely to Hulü’s conversation.

“That Li Mao arranged to meet here, but he’s not arrived yet?” Hulü grumbled.

Li Wenyuan’s head spun. He had learned some Turkic from Wudelu and could follow the gist, but their rapid, guttural exchanges reminded him of his earliest, most baffling lessons in English.

“Your Highness, be patient. Li Mao needs our help; he will not break his promise,” Badu consoled him.

Their food arrived, and Hulü, ravenous, focused on eating and drinking with his companions.

Not long after, footsteps sounded at the door, and Li Wenyuan stole a glance. It was indeed Li Mao, the same man he’d seen galloping through the streets days before.

Upon reaching Hulü, Li Mao immediately apologized. “Forgive me—an urgent matter detained me. I’ve only just finished my duties. Thank you for your patience, Your Highness.”

Hulü’s face brightened. “No matter. Only you Han Chinese place such importance on ceremony—on the steppe, warriors are granted special privileges.”

Li Mao laughed along and quickly broached the real subject. “Your Highness, about that request my elder brother sent you to present to the khan?”

Hulü’s smile widened. “Rest assured. My royal father has said: so long as your brother rises in rebellion against Sui, he will send troops to help your clan seize all the Western Regions, enfeoff him as Tulo Khagan, and establish the Kingdom of Tokhara.”

Li Mao beamed. “Then I must thank the khan on my brother’s behalf.”

The table erupted in laughter and toasts. After their meal, Hulü, supported by Badu, left for his lodgings. Li Wenyuan paid for his food, quietly followed, and watched as they entered a local inn.

He was about to return to camp to report, when a sudden idea struck him. Instead of leaving openly, he found a hidden spot and kept watch on the inn.

Sure enough, after a short while, the inn’s side door opened. Hulü, no longer feigning drunkenness, slipped out with Badu and headed to a nearby residence. Li Wenyuan waited until sunset, confirming this was no mere ruse, before returning to camp to await Zong Luo Hou.

That day, Zhang Juntao had not resolved his inner conflict, but he was beginning to understand Li Wenyuan’s reasoning. Still, it was not easy to overturn beliefs held for over a decade, and he remained somewhat ill at ease.

As the two sat waiting for Zong Luo Hou’s return in their tent, Li Wenyuan suddenly turned to Zhang Juntao with an out-of-the-blue question: “Juntao, just how skilled are you in martial arts?”