Chapter Five: 2018?

Baddu sat on the ground, his face a mask of terror, staring at Li Wenyuan holding the horse lance. No matter how he tried, he could not believe he had been bested in strength by a Han man.

Hurulu, who had been watching from the side, hurriedly interjected, “Young man, please show mercy.”

Hearing Hurulu’s plea for mercy, Li Wenyuan secretly laughed. He knew his objective had been achieved, so he withdrew the horse lance and reached out to help Baddu from the ground, smiling as he said, “Thank you for the match, Brother Baddu.”

Baddu was broad-minded; he picked up his broken spear from the ground, waved it dismissively at Li Wenyuan, and said, “Han man, hypocrite, you win.” Then, removing a silver eagle ring from his finger, he handed it to Li Wenyuan. “This is the token of the Sochile Tribe. It belongs to a true eagle. The grasslands welcome true warriors.”

Li Wenyuan accepted the ring without hesitation, placing it on his own finger, and replied, “I will definitely seek you out on the grasslands. Next time, let us compete in horsemanship and archery, your people’s strengths.”

At this moment, Hurulu called Baddu back in Turkic, then addressed Li Wenyuan, “Enough, you have won, young man. Here is my wager.” He set down a gold ingot, said a few comforting words to the family involved, and left with Baddu and another foreigner. As they departed, the other foreigner shot Li Wenyuan a look brimming with fighting spirit. Li Wenyuan laughed, patted his horse lance, and lifted his chin at the man.

Watching the three foreigners depart, Li Wenyuan turned to Xue Rengao and praised, “Young master, you have quite the presence, daring to confront those three foreigners head-on.”

“Though I am young, I know to protect our homeland and people. As Master says, when a friend arrives, we greet them with fine wine; when an enemy comes, we greet them with hunting spears.” Xue Rengao scratched his head sheepishly, his earlier fierce demeanor gone.

Li Wenyuan laughed heartily, clapping Xue Rengao on the shoulder. “Good, good! With such intent, I am well content.” After all, having crossed time, he relished most the prospect of shaping historical figures. Since history records Xue Rengao as bloodthirsty, he would teach him to cherish the people as his own children and become a sage of benevolence!

Just then, the neighing of a horse sounded, accompanied by the clinking of armor as soldiers cleared away the crowd. Xue Ju arrived on horseback, quickly dismounted, and pulled Xue Rengao close, scrutinizing him. “My son, are you hurt? Let me see.”

Not wanting to lose face before the crowd, Xue Rengao pulled away and replied, “Father, I am unharmed. Master broke the foreigner’s spear with his strength and drove them away.”

Xue Ju turned to Li Wenyuan. “Your strength grows daily, does it?”

Li Wenyuan nodded. Xue Ju dismissed the soldiers and had attendants escort Xue Rengao home, then walked side by side with Li Wenyuan toward the military camp in Jincheng. He laughed, “Three years ago, you saved my life; now you save my son’s. You truly are the Xue family’s lucky star.”

Li Wenyuan replied, “Three years ago, you took in this country bumpkin. How could I stand by and do nothing? A man gives his life for one who understands him.”

Xue Ju waved a hand. “Enough of such talk; it distances us. But your strange condition is truly remarkable—your strength grows by the day. Three years ago, you could shoot an iron arrow through a boar’s head into a tree, and now you could probably pierce armor. Who would dare face you in battle?”

After some consideration, Li Wenyuan decided to share the oddities of his body with Xue Ju. Xue Ju had consulted famous physicians, but none could give a clear diagnosis, all claiming his muscles and bones were simply extraordinary, with no hidden ailment. Over the past three years, Li Wenyuan had felt no discomfort, so he no longer worried, though recently his strength’s growth had slowed, likely nearing its limit.

The two arrived at a small tavern in Jincheng, found a window seat upstairs, ordered wine and dishes, and began to chat.

Xue Ju accepted a cup from Li Wenyuan and said, “Friends in the capital tell me His Majesty may soon rally all under heaven for another eastern campaign against Goguryeo.”

Li Wenyuan sipped the mild grain wine, savoring its unique aroma. Hearing Xue Ju mention Yang Guang’s campaign against Goguryeo, he recalled that he had arrived in the Sui dynasty in the sixth year of Daye, just as Yang Guang undertook his first campaign. Earlier in the year, the war had gone poorly; the siege of Liaodong dragged on, and the surrender commissioners—a mechanism created by Yang Guang himself—led to countless Sui corpses beneath the city, yet no progress.

Later, General Lai Huer led the navy upstream into the Pai River but failed to see through the Goguryeo ruse, looted the region, and fell into chaos. Ambushed, forty thousand elite troops were decimated, with only a few thousand escaping. Deputy Commander Zhou Fashang, who remained behind, managed to repel the Goguryeo pursuers, allowing Lai Huer to return to his ships, but the old general’s spirit was crushed, and he did not dare support the Sui forces again.

In the end, Yu Wen Shu and Yu Zhongwen’s force of over three hundred thousand men were deceived by Ulchi Mundok’s false surrender, pushed forward relentlessly, and forced a crossing of the Salsu River. The troops, exhausted, could not advance to besiege Pyongyang and were surrounded by Goguryeo soldiers. Retreating as they fought, the rear guard was attacked while crossing the Salsu, and the army fell into a rout. Only upon reaching the Yalu River, with Wang Ren Gong’s troops covering the retreat, did any survive.

Thus, the first eastern campaign was a complete failure, with tens of thousands of pieces of military equipment lost in Goguryeo. Another campaign would likely end in failure too, just as history recorded.

Li Wenyuan whispered to Xue Ju, “This eastern campaign is doomed.”

Xue Ju was shocked, glanced around, and asked quietly, “Why do you say so?”

Li Wenyuan explained, “The Emperor established surrender commissioners; whenever the Goguryeo defenders offered to surrender, our troops would withdraw and summon these commissioners. In the meantime, the Goguryeo would repair their defenses. By the time the commissioner arrived, the city was once again impregnable and no longer willing to surrender. Hence, countless Sui soldiers fell at Liaodong, yet the city never fell. Is it not as I say, Brother Xue?”

Xue Ju replied, “It is just as you say. Many officials have petitioned to abolish the surrender commissioners and storm the cities, but the Emperor drove them all out.”

Li Wenyuan continued, “This is a case of killing with a borrowed knife; the Emperor’s true aim lies elsewhere. Although the campaign is waged in the name of punishing Goguryeo, it is the Sui’s conscripted soldiers who suffer the most, especially those from the great clans. The Emperor seeks to use Goguryeo's hand to weaken the aristocratic families and seize power. Moreover, during wartime, one wrong move brands you a traitor and brings ruin to your family. The real danger is to be cut out from the center of power entirely.”

Xue Ju listened, alarmed. As a military man, political intrigue was limited to managing his own subordinates, nothing compared to the silent, invisible blades of the court. Li Wenyuan went on, “But this campaign will be different. Last time, a million of our heavenly soldiers perished in Goguryeo; this is no longer just about weakening the clans. His Majesty also wants to reclaim lost honor. This campaign will stir resentment among the aristocrats, and when they rebel, he will return victorious and crush them, giving the world an explanation.”

Xue Ju hurriedly asked, “Which clans will rebel against the Sui?”

Li Wenyuan sipped his wine. “That I cannot say for sure. Only those powerful enough to rebel, namely the clans holding office at court, might act. The lesser ones lack the strength.” He had no desire to implicate himself by naming names—let Xue Ju think him insightful, that was enough.

Xue Ju drank in silence. After their meal, as they parted, Li Wenyuan said, “Brother Xue, if you go to Liaodong this time, I will accompany you.” With that, he took his leave and returned home.

The next day, Li Wenyuan hurried to the tailor’s shop. The shopkeeper delivered the two finely crafted cloaks, each wrapped in exquisite brocade. Clearly, the shopkeeper had guessed these were gifts for people of status and used the best materials for packaging. After settling the bill and tipping generously, Li Wenyuan left under the shopkeeper’s enthusiastic send-off.

He went straight to the Xue residence, gave his name, and was led to the council hall to see Xue Ju. As it happened, Xue Ju was not on duty that day. Li Wenyuan stated his purpose: “Brother Xue, Qiuniang’s service these past three years has greatly pleased me. I would like to ask you for her deed. I have also heard that the lady of the house fears the cold, and that the white wolf’s pelt is especially warm. I commissioned two cloaks, one for the lady and one for you, to thank you for taking me in.” With that, he unwrapped the brocade, and had the servants help Xue Ju put on the cloak—a perfect fit, with the wolf’s head resting on the shoulder, fashioned from the pelt of the white wolf king.

Admiring himself in a bronze mirror, Xue Ju was delighted and declared, “You are too thoughtful, my friend. Twice you have saved the Xue family. The deed is yours; tomorrow I will have it sent to your house.”

“Then I must trouble you, Brother. I have other matters to attend to and will take my leave.” Having achieved his aim, Li Wenyuan excused himself. The next day, as promised, Xue Ju sent over Qiuniang’s deed, along with gold, silver, and jewels for her. The lady of the house explained that since Qiuniang would be serving Li Wenyuan in a strange new place, she must have some savings for emergencies.

Li Wenyuan rewarded the servant who delivered the deed and valuables, then took Qiuniang to the city office, expunged her slave status, and bought cloth for new clothes. At last, a weight was lifted from his heart; after all, it was unpleasant knowing that a beauty at his side could be claimed by another’s word.

That evening after dinner, Aunt Liu cleared the table and took her two young daughters to rest. Li Wenyuan added charcoal to the brazier and asked Qiuniang, “In the city records you’re listed as from Jiangnan. How did you end up here, beyond Longxi?”

Qiuniang set aside her embroidery, adjusted the lamp wick, and answered, “Master, my surname is Shen. I am kin to the Shen family in Jiangnan. I served Empress Shen in the Southern Chen palace. When the Sui conquered Chen, I and my kin were made slaves—my family dared not protest. After wandering and falling ill, starving, I was rescued by the late lady of this house, who treated me as a sister, not a servant.”

Touched by her words, Li Wenyuan reflected that while the histories recorded Lady Ju, Xue Ju’s wife, in only a few lines, living among such real, flesh-and-blood people gave the past new immediacy. He even wondered, if Xue Ju had not died young, and if Li Tang had not gained the horse-breeding lands of Hexi, might history have changed?

Having freed Qiuniang, Li Wenyuan soaked in the medicinal bath she had prepared—his last, according to Xue Ju, who said his muscles and bones were now fully renewed. In the soothing warmth, Li Wenyuan closed his eyes and asked, “Qiuniang, now that you are free, where will you go? Will you return to the Shen family in Jiangnan?”

Without hesitation, Qiuniang replied, “After being made a slave, I was no longer part of the Shen family. Why return for more suffering? I will continue to serve you and repay your kindness as best I can.”

Li Wenyuan opened his eyes and said, “Qiuniang, I restored your freedom not for gratitude, but because a woman should not bear the status of a slave. In truth, there should be no slavery at all.”

Qiuniang smiled and replied, “Master, your heart is with the world. To worry before all others, to rejoice after all others—you are destined for great deeds.”

It was a simple sentence, but it struck Li Wenyuan like thunder from a clear sky. He asked, “Qiuniang, who taught you those words?”

Qiuniang seemed to recall something, and replied, “Master, these are but a woman’s idle thoughts, unworthy of troubling you.”

But Li Wenyuan suddenly stood up from the bath, forgetting he wore only his homemade shorts, strode over, and grabbed Qiuniang’s hand. “You mean no one told you that phrase? It came to you on its own?”

“To worry before all under heaven, to rejoice after”—every Chinese schoolchild would know this; it is etched in our bones, first spoken centuries later by Fan Zhongyan of the Song dynasty. For such a phrase to come from a woman who had spent years as a slave was astonishing. Li Wenyuan thought for a moment, then said, “2018?”

Qiuniang, startled but gathering herself, looked at him and softly replied, “2012.”