The Ming Storm

by Yan LeiSheng

  “Pardon me, Mr Wang,” she said, “but would it not be prudent to recall the troops before it’s too late?”

  “Don’t worry, Lady Wa, I have employed a technique known as The guest acts as host. When the rebels break through our lines, it is they who will be trapped.”

  The arrogance of the Wolves’ commanders, who did not even consider the possibility of defeat, would be their downfall. Wang Yangming had guessed that Lu Su and Wang Shou would choose to embark on a show of force from the outset to discourage the imperial forces. Their knowledge of the terrain had a double advantage: it not only allowed them to carry out multiple surprise attacks to compensate for their lower numbers, but also to retreat without being pursued. However, they certainly didn’t expect that their prey would actually be a trap. Wang Yangming’s only mistake was to have slightly underestimated their strength, but his plan was unaffected. For her part, Lady Wa had had no idea that imperial troops had been posted to bait the trap.

  “I bet that Lu and Wang would carry out a pincer move on our front lines,” Wang Yangming explained, “then attack the middle line from the right.”

  He had therefore ordered the front line to open the way, then for the rear to attack: an unusual strategy that the Wolves couldn’t have predicted. However, the front lines played a key role, so it seemed extremely risky to expose them needlessly.

  “Mr Wang,” Lady Wa insisted, “if I may, why not send reinforcements to the front lines?”

  “Because that would complicate our victory.”

  How could it be easier to win with fewer men? A blast quickly answered this question: the imperial artillery had entered the fight. This was Wang Yangming’s secret: he’d had firearms sent to this remote region, something which had surely never been seen before! Small detachments equipped with them had been placed outside the camp and the front line. When the Wolves had broken through the imperial troops, they had unknowingly thrown themselves into the line of fire, their legendary valor meaning nothing when at the mercy of these weapons. Their trap had been turned against them. The guest had acted as host.

  Lady Wa nonetheless shuddered at each new detonation, as the soldiers, rebels though they were, were her countrymen and she could not rejoice in their deaths. While she was opposed to the rebellion, she had never wanted it to end in a bloodbath.

  Noticing her paleness, Wang Yangming sought to reassure her. “Don’t worry. Most of these weapons are loaded with blanks. My aim is to frighten the enemy, not kill them.”

  “Thank you, Mr Wang,” she said gratefully with a deep bow.

  “When His Majesty charged me with pacifying this region, I studied its history, and it felt natural to take your side.”

  Indeed, it had been unthinkable for him that the leadership of Tianzhou had not been given to a member of the Cen clan, governors of the city for generations. Because even once the leaders of the rebellion were defeated, their soldiers would never recognize the authority of a foreign magistrate. He had therefore had an official imperial recommendation drawn up for the people of Tianzhou so that Lady Wa could be recognized as the legitimate descendant of the Cen clan. If she was assigned to the position which should have been hers by right, relations with the central power could be reestablished. In summary, as the problem was local, it required a local solution. Following this logic, he had then placed his own troops under the command of Chen Xi, who had been operating in this region for a long time and knew the terrain well.

  The shouts of the Wolves decreased in intensity as they grew closer and became embroiled in a situation they were completely unprepared for. Too sure of their formidable attack strength, they had no backup plan, and their strategy was as simple as it was radical: fight to the death. Their leaders had not yet been found or brought down, but it looked like it wouldn’t be long now.

  Lady Wa seized upon the option of surrender offered by Wang Yangming, convinced of the merit of his thinking.

  “You are completely right. I’ll go into the city myself to persuade the civilians.”

  “Madam, I’ve heard much of your great moral integrity, and I am honored to witness it for myself. Commander-in-Chief Zhang You will escort you. I hope he’ll forgive Lu and Wang for being unable to discern good from evil.”

  Zhang You was a strong, smart and resourceful man from Guangzhou. He had a good background and had studied military treatises, acquired perfect knowledge of Sun Tzu’s Art of War, and led strategic operations as an adolescent. He had greased the palm of the rebel leader during the previous revolt in Tianzhou to quickly establish peace but had been betrayed at the last minute and imprisoned in the enemy jail before he finally managed to escape. Then, despite his ingenuity and feats of arms, he had been dismissed from his position for acting outside the regulations and resorting to bribery.

  To carry out his mission, Wang Yangming had sought to surround himself with intelligent young people who were able to suggest new ideas, so Zhang You’s profile had immediately stood out. He had sent him to the back lines, while assigning Chen Xi to the front; his two most trusted officers. Lady Wa would be well protected on her return to Tianzhou.

  •••

  As she set off, Wang Shou was retreating to the same destination. An icy chill ran through him as he cast a final glance at the forest behind him.

  His defeat was bitter, but when the Wolves had turned back, the empire’s soldiers had not pursued them, as if out of some form of clemency. What game was the commander of the imperial army playing?

  He was shaken out of his thoughts by the arrival of Lu Su, escorted by several rebels.

  “Are you well, older brother?” he asked.

  They didn’t like one another but called each other by this nickname to show their closeness – their cause was shared after all, and it was important for them to support each other.

  “I’m well,” Wang Shou responded.

  But that was only very relative. Certainly, they had few injured and dead, but the Wolves had been forced to flee the field of battle with their tails between their legs, which in itself was a terrible blow.

  “Older brother,” Lu Su breathed quietly, “they didn’t act as expected…”

  He didn’t need to explain more. Even an idiot would have noticed that the imperial army had let them escape.

  “How do we respond if they offer peace?” Wang Shou asked.

  “We give them nothing! Yang said that the Fourth Cen was non-negotiable!”

  Yang Siwei was Lu Su’s mentor, and thus the hidden instigator of the current events. He refused to allow the central government to impose a magistrate on Tianzhou, whose governance, in his view, could only fall to Cen Zhen’s successor, Bangxiang. The latter was still young, and his mother a concubine, so his legitimacy was easily contestable… But Lu Su had blind faith in his master, and thus refused even the idea of discussing these decrees, which worried Wang Shou.

  “Let’s wait and see the imperial army’s next move,” he said cautiously.

  Night fell and the imperial camp set up such a formidable guard that the Wolves, despite their reputation for devastating nocturnal attacks, had no choice but to remain within the city walls. They were greatly surprised when they saw Commander Zhang You and Lady Wa approaching. Their stupefaction only grew on reading the demand for surrender sent by Wang Yangming.

  It detailed the government’s three demands: that Tianzhou be renamed Tianding; Cen Bangxiang would become the prefect; and the prefecture would be divided into sectors that Lu and Wang would be responsible for inspecting.

  Wang Yangming had heard and understood the rebels’ demands, but his real stroke of genius, the one which persuaded them, was the official recognition of Cen Bangxiang.

  He was very relieved to see Zhang You and Lady Wa return to the camp safely, and to learn that the surrender would be ratified the next day. While he had been careful to give nothing away, he had in rea
lity been plagued with terrible anguish. After all, as everyone knew, he had been sent here to crush the rebellion and set an example, if necessary, by massacring the rebels in a way that would be remembered for generations so that the city would finally be peaceful.

  Wang Yangming suspected that this idea had been quietly suggested to the young Emperor by Zhang Yong, who was incapable of the humanity needed to negotiate a peaceful solution. This situation would certainly have ended in a blood bath if he had been in charge.

  And yet, when Zhang Yong became leader of the Eight Tigers, Wang Yangming had nurtured the foolish hope that he could reason with him and finally bring an end to the age-old quarrel between his group and the Society of the Mind. But everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses, and the mentor knew those of his friend and rival only too well. He was not a man whom it was possible to make peace with.

  “And yet, Uncle Zhang and I have a common destiny…”

  But that way lay sadness. He had accomplished his main task but there was still much to do, and each change made in Tianzhou would test the strength of the newly established peace. While Wang Shou seemed very satisfied with the resolution to the conflict, perhaps Lu Su did not completely approve of the compromise in having Cen Bangxiang lead the city as an imperial civil servant rather than as an autonomous governor. What did Cen Bangxiang himself think of it? After all, not every eventuality can be planned for, and not even the immortal Taoists were immune to mistakes!

  Not to mention the shadow of Zhang Yong, still looming over the ashes of the Society of the Mind and causing an icy wind to blow whenever his name was mentioned…

  The following morning, the sun burned through the misty humidity of the south, promising a warm and pleasant day to come. The gates of Tianzhou opened to reveal two rows of Wolves ready for inspection, with Cen Bangxiang, Lu Su, and Wang Shou standing before them. Wang Yangming, who had little fondness for large military demonstrations, presented himself to them simply accompanied by two young aides, and followed by several other important figures from the imperial delegation. The evening before, the best local craftsmen had erected a beautiful multicolored pavilion in front of the city’s reception hall, where the official peace talks would take place.

  A banquet with all kinds of foods and drinks had been laid out in the great hall. Wang Yangming sat at the end of the table, Zhang You on his left, Lady Wa and Chen Xi on his right, while Lu Su, Wang Shou, and Cen Bangxiang sat opposite. It was Lady Wa who had suggested that meetings take place in this building, but it was originally the official residence of the prefectural magistrate, and Cen Bangxiang would live there if the administrative process proceeded smoothly. The latter was very nervous in her presence, as he knew that she might consider him a traitor to his line and expected to see her take her vengeance at any second.

  Wang Yangming untied the white silk ribbon that fastened the surrender letter and quickly scanned it. He was willing to show sympathy towards Cen Bangxiang, as his ancestor Cen Zhongsu, a valiant general of the Song dynasty, had like himself been from Yuyao. But he was shocked at the rough calligraphy on the document. This thick and graceless writing did not do justice to the importance of the occasion.

  “Who wrote this letter?” he suddenly asked.

  Cen Bangxiang well knew that if Wang Yangming hadn’t seen fit to place him at the head of the city, the rebels would now be nothing more than cripples and a pile of bodies. In addition, this impetuous young man of fifteen or sixteen years felt overawed by the authoritative aura of the greatest scholar of the imperial court. Embarrassed by the question, he couldn’t help but lower his gaze before his elder and superior.

  “Mr Wang…” he stammered piteously, “I must… tell you that it w-was Y- Yang…” He pulled himself together. “Mr Yang is my secretary, who noted down my dictation before writing this letter.”

  “I’d like to meet this Mr Yang.”

  Lu Su straightened, surprised. To his uneducated eyes, the commander of the imperial army was just another military man, and not the most eminent scholar of his time. But the day before, after choosing to accept the armistice and writing the letter of surrender – of which he was the author – Yang Siwei had asserted that Wang Yangming would ask to see him. Lu Su couldn’t explain his master’s confidence, but his prediction was about to come true!

  “Secretary Yang is outside,” answered Cen Bangxiang. “He awaits his orders.”

  “Then have him enter, please.”

  Now that was unusual. Wang Shou hid his surprise as the small old man with the long, sparse beard entered the hall, quickly prostrating himself before Wang Yangming as he trembled.

  “The humble Yang Siwei presents himself before the honorable Master Wang,” he said humbly.

  Lu Su was even more perplexed. Why was his master, usually such an assured and confident man, giving the impression that he was presenting himself in society for the first time? Was it because the representative of the empire intimidated him that he suddenly found himself unable to articulate three words correctly? But he had little time to dwell further on the matter, as a bloody shout rang from outside the building, causing everyone in the gathering to freeze.

  Lady Wa leapt to her feet. Chen Xi did the same and gestured at her to stay where she was.

  “Don’t move madam, I will see what is happening.”

  He strode out and returned a few seconds later accompanied by guards carrying two bodies which they laid on an empty table. Lu Su and Cen Bangxiang wordlessly fell to their knees, paling at the sight of the lifeless corpses.

  “Mr Wang,” Chen Xi cried, “these men have been killed!”

  Wang Shou managed to remain composed, and immediately glimpsed the possibility that the imperial dignitaries suspected a trap set by the rebels and decided to defuse the situation as quickly as possible before it exploded.

  “Mr Wang,” he said calmly, “stay safe here while we catch the killer.”

  Wang Yangming regarded the corpses with the alarm.

  “Chen Xi,” he asked, “did you see the culprit?”

  “No, they were already lying on the ground when I went out…”

  Nothing here made sense. Logic dictated that an assassin would focus on the leading figures, but the death of these simple guards had no political or strategic value. It would take much more than the murder of anonymous soldiers to disrupt the peace process, as neither side could seriously be accused of the crime. Unless it was a diversion… Chen Xi suddenly saw the frail Yang Siwei, to whom no one was paying any attention, stop his trembling and launch himself at Wang Yangming like a speeding arrow.

  The plan, which had not been conceived by the old man, was brilliant. It began with the deliberately grotesque writing of a document of the highest importance, an incongruity which would pique the curiosity of a great scholar, academic, and diplomat such as the founder of the School of Mind. Once the author of the letter was close to his target, he would feign physical weakness and a lack of confidence so as not to arouse suspicion, then launch a surprise attack after the pointless murder of the guards at the entrance distracted everyone in the room. Zhang You was untrained in hand-to-hand combat and so was unable to react, and Lady Wa, while formidable when wielding the knives she wore at her waist, wasn’t able to draw them in time. Yang Siwei was already in the process of striking, armed with two thin, poisoned blades drawn from folds in his clothing. Even the slightest scratch would be certain death.

  This fighting technique was named Pricking the lamplight with a hairpin, referencing a poem written by Zhang Hu of the Tang dynasty:

  The gates of the forbidden palace are closed to the moon.

  Charming eyes see nothing but the nests of herons; Prick the lamplight with a hairpin and extinguish the flame to save an insect.

  The reclusive concubine extinguishing her candle with a precise motion of her hairpin had inspired the wielding of poisoned blades, as
any martial artist who pushed this technique to its apex could pierce their adversary’s heart with a single movement of their delicate weapon, killing with a single pin prick.

  Wang Yangming instinctively reached for the sword that normally sat at his waist, but he had left it behind as a sign of peace. How could he have expected a fight at the signing of a peace treaty?

  Nonetheless, his finely-honed reflexes allowed him to parry the attack with a powerful sweep of his left arm. The poisoned blades missed their target. The person who ordered the assassination had said it well: taking his life would be no mean feat.

  A wise man would have fled when a surprise attack failed, but Yang Siwei did no such thing. On the contrary, he leapt into the air to launch a second attack, but Wang Yangming seized him by the leg, pressing firmly on his artery to reduce the blood pressure and render him harmless. As he did so, at the last second, he saw the gleam of another blade flashing towards him.

  Chapter 13

  When Yang Siwei unexpectedly attacked, Chen Xi was taking the pulse of one of the victims who had been stabbed in the chest and whose heart, unsurprisingly, no longer beat. He was about to pronounce them dead when suddenly, the second “body” stood and surged towards Wang Yangming – and unlike the soldiers posted in the room, this one was armed. He hurled his dagger as his target was occupied with disabling Yang Siwei, their two-pronged attack so well coordinated it have been fatal to any ordinary man.

  But the mentor of the Society of the Mind was no ordinary man. Despite his surprise, he reacted quickly to catch the blade in its middle, where its blade was not sharp. The assassin felt as if his dagger was being pulled down by an incredible force as electric shocks ran up his wrist – Wang Yangming’s inner energy attacking his meridians.

  The person who commissioned the attack had warned of the threat the target posed, but his warning had fallen on the deaf ears of one too sure of his own skills. The strong young man, muscles tensed and face red with effort, was now at the mercy of the placid old man paralyzing his arms. Powerless in his agony, he felt as if his entire body were about to explode. Wang Yangming did not have a violent character; he was as implacable and imperturbable as a river with deep and powerful currents. But to catch the blade he had been forced to let go of his captive’s leg, and Yang Siwei had taken advantage to jump six or seven feet into the air and launch his ultimate attack, the tips of his blades pointed straight towards the top of Wang Yangming’s head.