“Peaces do not last, we’ve seen that before,” Jing had said. “Someone will break it, and we think soon. But before then we want to be prepared. And Liu Kui’s words, administered by you, Wei, can help us do that.”
Wei had laughed again despite himself and quickly doubled up in pain because of it. When he opened his tear-rimmed eyes a few moments later Jing was gone.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?”
Wei turned away from the window and looked once again at Jing, confusion replacing his earlier scorn.
“The fields,” Jing said, motioning back toward the window. “They just roll on and on for hundreds of miles in every direction. It’s like that all over the state, although further south the wheat fields turn into rice paddies.”
“You might have thousands of acres of suitable farmland, tens of thousands even, but you certainly haven’t the manpower to utilize it all,” Wei said flatly. Despite having spent the better part of two days now in Jing’s company, one in the goal’s hospital and then this one on the road, he could not warm to the man.
“We hoped you might have some suggestions on how to change that,” Jing ventured.
Wei snorted, which thankfully only produced a slight discomfort in his midsection, and turned back to the window. “Try fucking.”
Jing gave a slight smile. Despite the coldness that Wei had shown him, and which he had wholly expected, he couldn’t help but like the man. He had no doubt that at one point, perhaps even as early as five years earlier when he’d still been a student of Liu Kui, the skeptical and pessimistic man that now sat across from him was a wholly different person. Jing could picture him as a young idealistic youth, soaking up all of the wisdom that his teacher had to impart, his view of the world full of hope and the promise of what could be. Somewhere along the line, however, that hopeful young man had run into the harsh realities of the real world that existed outside of the palaces and gardens of Duke’s and Marquis’ to which he had been exposed to for so long. Trudging through the Seven States and beyond for the past five years had done much to change the man that Jing now sat across from, but if anything that could be for the best, he thought. Qin needed hard changes, not fanciful words on what could be, and Jing suspected that Wei Yang was the man to bring that about. But would Duke Xiao think so too? He had dispatched Jing several months earlier when he’d learned that Wei Yang was moving about Qin, making a living as a wandering scholar and scribe. It’d been easy to track his movements and routines, and then only a matter of time before he learned of the book.
It had been no secret that Liu Kui had written down his ideas on governance throughout the years, modifying them to changing circumstances and philosophies, and eventually putting them all down into a large leather-bound book. The philosophy that he had developed over those decades serving Marquis Wen of Wei he’d called Legalism, and very few men outside of Wei knew exactly what that philosophy was about, although all knew what changes it could bring. One had only to look at how far Wei had come in the span of a few decades, from a mere vassal state of Jin, to one of the Three Jins, to finally the most dominant state of the Seven States. Marquis Wen’s leading philosopher and advisor had to have had something to do with that success, and whatever it was that he’d written down in that book of his would be the key to that success. It was a given that Duke Xiao would want that book once he learned that Liu Kui’s pupil was wandering about, and he’d dispatched Jing Jian to find it.
And it hadn’t been easy. Right when he’d started observing Wei, Jing knew that he didn’t have the book, at least not on him. When he traveled all he carried was a beat-up old writing case and a small shoulder sack that contained little more that a change of clothes. Jing had been certain that the book was now Wei’s, however, for who else would Liu have given it to? It was no secret that Liu had been wary of Marquis Wen’s son coming to power; it was in fact the reason he’d abruptly left. So Jing doggedly tailed Wei Yang wherever he went, always keeping enough distance between himself and his target to avoid detection, yet remaining close enough to learn everything that he could. He found out quickly that Wei was a solitary man, one with no friends and no desire to have any. He kept to himself always, never stayed in one place too long, and seemed completely unconcerned about where he’d be or what he’d be doing from day to day. His wanderings had no pattern other than the roads he silently trod. Jing was giving up hope of ever finding the book, as he had long before given up any hope of understanding Wei Yang, when one day Wei did something out of the ordinary, even for him.
One day after completing a long and detailed writing job for a minor noble in a small town along the Wei River, one several hundred miles west of the capital of Yong, Wei had continued west along the river instead of heading back down the road from which he’d come. What was so unusual, and something which Jing had never seen before, was that Wei was not traveling on a road, something he’d always done before in the three months that Jing had been following him. Even at such times when going cross country for only an hour would have saved half a day or more Wei had always stuck to the roads. Why would he change now?
Jing followed as always and camped in silence that night well away from the spot where Wei had set up his own camp along the river. The next morning Wei had been up with the sun and continued on along the river and toward the west. Jing knew that if they kept up that course for most of the day they’d eventually reach the westernmost boundary of Qin. Did Wei mean to continue on after that? Was he going to once again make an attempt to find his former mentor Liu Kui, a man whom many suspected of having traveled all the way to the western lands where the myriad trade goods that the Seven States enjoyed actually originated from? Jing followed, his interest piqued for the first time in months by his charge’s unusual behavior.
Late that afternoon they reached the westernmost border of Qin a few miles before the Wei River reached its end. A crude wall had been erected for miles along a diagonal north-east line years before. It consisted mainly of earthen piles propped up here and there with the occasional brick or stone. It was nothing much, but would slow oncoming horses, which was perhaps its main purpose when the barbarian peoples, the Di Tribes that were now a part of Qin and had been for some time, had originally built the wall hundreds of years earlier.
Jing hung back and watched as Wei sat down with his back against the wall and peered out at the rolling fields and tall trees and grasses that surrounded the river all along the route he’d come. He sat for some time as the sun began its descent, and just before twilight rose and began pacing back and forth along the wall. After several minutes of that he stopped at a section, kicked at some earth, and then got down on his knees and began digging away at the earth and bricks with his hands. Jing craned his head to try and see what it was that Wei was digging at, but he already knew that it could only be one thing. It took just a few minutes for Wei to stop his excavation, and when he did he propped himself up against the wall once again. In his dirtied hands he held a large leather-bound book, and Jing smiled.
That night Jing sat behind his tree amidst the tall grasses of the river and watched Wei read Liu Kui’s book by the fire. He read nearly all of the night, sleeping for only a few hours, and rising well before the dawn to stoke the fire and read some more. As the sun began to dawn he put the book back into the wall from where he’d retrieved it, spent several minutes rubbing away all footprints near that section of the wall, and then the better part of an hour removing all traces of his fire from that spot. Finally, seemingly satisfied at his efforts at subterfuge, he began walking back along the river the way he’d come. Jing huddled against his tree and watched him go by and then continued to sit for the entire morning to make sure that Wei would not return. Satisfied that he would not, Jing rose and headed to the spot along the wall. Even though he’d watched Wei retrieve the book and put it back, it still took Jing nearly an hour to find the book, so well hidden was it. Eventually he chose the right spot, removed the earth and bricks, and was soon ho
lding the book in his hands. Duke Xiao would be happy, Jing knew that, but his happiness would not be complete without someone to advise him on how the words in the book should be put into action. For that he needed Wei Yang. Jing tucked the book away into his small travel sack and began walking back along the river, hoping that Wei’s trail was as easy to follow as it usually was.
It was, but Wei wasn’t moving at his customarily slow pace. By the time Jing got back to the small town there was no trace of Wei or where he might have gone. Asking about, even inquiring with the man that had last hired him, proved futile in discerning Wei’s whereabouts. Still, Jing had the book, and he knew that Wei would turn up sooner or later. If nothing else he would eventually make his way back to the small town to once again check in on his hidden treasure. It would be a minor thing to send a man to watch for his arrival. Jing hiked up his robes, went to the nearest stables and bought a horse. Now that he was free from following Wei he could ride once again.
Duke Xiao had indeed been pleased with the book when Jing returned to the palace in Yong, but as expected, he also wanted the man that knew the book better than any other besides the author himself. Jing went out onto the roads once again searching for any sign of Wei, but none could be found. He put word out among all of his contacts in the cities and towns of the state to keep a look out, but no word ever came back to him. Finally, frustrated and unsure if Wei was even in Qin any longer, he returned to Yong. It was a good thing, too, for as soon as he arrived he was informed by one of his contacts that Wei had in fact returned to Yong just that day and taken on some work from a wealthy merchant. He was thought to be staying at a small inn frequented by scholars near the market district.
Jing had immediately rushed to the inn and waited no more than a few minutes before Wei had appeared. He decided that he would allow the man to eat his dinner in peace and go up to his room before he revealed himself, and more importantly, the book. He suspected that Wei would be hesitant about serving Duke Xiao, but with the book as leverage, Jing didn’t see how he could refuse. Unfortunately the inn that night had been frequented by Confucians, men whose philosophies did not correspond with those of Wei Yang, and the resulting fight had broken out.
Jing looked across the small wheelhouse at Wei and gave a silent prayer to Shangdi that the man had not been killed that night. Wei had asked all about the book, how it was found, what Jing and Duke Xiao intended to do with it, and much more. When he’d been well enough to leave the gaol hospital Jing had told him the whole story. Wei had listened with his eyes downcast, saying nothing. Finally when Jing had reached the end, of how he had rushed out to find some guards the night of the fight in the inn, Wei had looked up and nodded.
“I see,” was all that he had said, and asked nothing more of it.
And still he did not talk much, Jing had come to realize, much to his chagrin. It was quite a distance to Duke Xiao’s hunting palace outside of Yong, nearly a day’s ride by chariot, and probably half again that time in the ponderous wheelhouse. He’d hoped that he could become engrossed in conversation with Wei on Qin’s future, but instead the man seemed content to stare out of the window and watch the countryside roll by.
Finally Jing cleared his throat, drawing Wei’s eyes to him.
“It is true that there aren’t as many people in Qin as in other states, but Duke Xiao can give incentives for families to have more children,” Jing explained in answer to Wei’s earlier question. Is there anything else that you think can be done to solve this problem?”
Wei looked at Jing for a few moments as if sizing him up, then turned back to the window. Jing was just about to resign himself to a long day of silence when Wei spoke.
“Forced migrations,” he said quietly.
“What?” Jing could barely hear what Wei had said over the clatter of the wheels outside.
“The cities have too many people, the countryside not enough. Move the people that are crowding the cities and producing nothing to the countryside. Give them land to work on. When more food begins to be produced people will eat more and then there’ll eventually be more people.”
Jing rubbed his short beard. “That sounds like it could take some time, years or decades even.”
Wei shrugged his shoulders. “Did you expect large changes to take place overnight?”
“No, I suppose not,” Jing said with a frown.
“Well I hope that your Duke doesn’t either, for if that’s the case we might as well turn back for Yong right now and I can be on my way.”
“You can be on your way at anytime, Wei. You are not a prisoner here.”
“Not I, but something dear to me is,” Wei said, gesturing toward the book seated next to Jing.
“Talk with Duke Xiao, that’s all,” Jing said. “Tell him your ideas, and listen to his. If at the end of your talks neither of you sees eye-to-eye than you will be free to go.”
Wei narrowed his eyes at Jing. “Is that what Duke Xiao has told you?”
“Duke Xiao is not a man to force another to work against his will.”
“Then Qin will have no hope,” Wei said as he turned back to the window. “Forcing men to work against their will be one of the things that Qin’ll have to do if it means to pull itself up to the same footing as the other states. There’ a lot of catching up here to do, and little time to waste.”
Jing narrowed his eyes at Wei and realized how cold the man seated across from him really was. No, that wasn’t quite accurate, he realized. Wei was not cold, just coldly rational. He knew what had to be done and wouldn’t let his feelings get in the way of that. Cold, hard reason ruled Wei Yang’s life, and soon Jing knew, it would rule Qin’s as well.
FOUR
They mostly rode in silence for the rest of the day, broken only occasionally when Wei asked about a certain feature or bit of history of the land they were traveling through. Sometimes he would inquire about Duke Xiao, what type of man he was and his father before him. At one point he asked about the family history going back all the way to Zhuanxu, one of the five mythical emperors of ancient times. Jing said that he didn’t know much about that, to which Wei nodded as if he’d expected that. But later, when Wei asked about Duke Feizi and Jing didn’t know him either, Wei had become angry.
“The man lived only five hundred years ago, how could you not know anything about him?” Wei had said in disgust.
“Perhaps Duke Xiao will be more informed of his own ancestors than I,” Jing had offered.
“I certainly hope so,” Wei had scoffed.
They rode well past dark and continued on. Occasionally they would stop to water the horses or relieve themselves, but those breaks were short, and mainly they continued on. Jing found himself nodding off at times, only to be awakened by a bump in the road or the racket of the wheels, and each time he saw Wei staring out of the window just as he had been all day.
The moon was already beginning its descent in the sky when they reached the Duke’s hunting palace. It may have been called a palace but it was little more than a two-story stone building that would have been dwarfed by many of the rich merchant’s homes back in Yong. A large wall made from wooden logs from the surrounding forest circled the structure, and there were a few wooden outbuildings and a stable clustered within as well. Jing had sent a bird off to the palace the day before informing Duke Xiao of their arrival, and the guards at the gate had been informed. They already had the gates opened, seemingly not surprised that they were arriving in the middle of the night. It didn’t seem like Duke Xiao was either, for Jing could see lights in each of the palace’s windows. Obviously the Duke had been waiting for them.
The wheelhouse came to a stop in front of the main building and a moment later the driver was opening the door. Jing stepped out first and offered up a helping hand to Wei. The wounds he had suffered at the inn were still bothering him and Wei winced as he stepped down to the ground. Jing held up his arm in the direction of the front door and Wei began walking slowly toward it. Overhead the
large moon cast a yellow pallor down on them and the white stone of the Duke’s palace.
“The Duke looks still to be awake,” Jing said as they neared the door. “He’ll want to meet you, and then you can sleep for the night.”
“If I’m to meet him I might as well talk to him as well,” Wei said over his shoulder. “The sooner I can get these talks over with the sooner I can be on my way.”
“I wish you would have a more open mind about it than that, Wei.”
Wei said nothing in reply as he neared the door, which was pulled open from the inside just before he reached it. Two guards, decked out in the same dark brown robes as those near the gate and holding large dagger-axes, gestured with their free hands for the two men to enter.
“The Duke has been expecting you,” one of the guards said to Jing when they were through the doors. “He’s waiting up the stairs.”
Jing nodded and gestured at the stone staircase set along one wall of the large entrance hall. “Can you manage the stairs, Wei?”
Wei stared over at the stairs and then without a word began walking toward them in his slow, shuffling gait, his hand constantly bracing his left side. When he reached the stairs he paused and looked up before putting one foot up and then another. Jing saw him wince and clutch his side more forcefully, but he continued on, his right arm clenching the stone railing tightly.
It took them a few minutes, Wei’s steps becoming slower as they progressed, but eventually they reached the top of the staircase and the second floor of the palace. Jing saw that Wei’s brow was dotted with sweat, and he realized that the man was in worse shape than he’d previously realized.
“Would you like to sit down and rest for a few moments,” Jing said as he gestured toward some chairs lining the hallway.
Wei shook his head and started down the hall. “Which door is it, the large one at the end?”
Jing nodded even though Wei was already past him and couldn’t see. They slowly made their way down the hall, which was strangely empty of any guards, and just before Wei was at the door Jing rushed ahead and knocked lightly and a moment later pushed it open. He ducked his head inside, then back out just as quickly, giving a nod to Wei and opening the door fully. Wei looked from Jing to the room and moved forward.
The Warring States, Books 1-3 Page 43
