Royal Road

n’t know what anyone else thought, but this method benefitted him greatly.
He was a captain, after all, he had a lot of farmland to begin with.
There was no way he could’ve harvested it all alone, but with a hundred or so people working all at once, his fields were swept clean in no time.
Naturally, he was ecstatic!  

“Fifteen-minute break!” Yi Yan stood up, grabbed a handful of his clothes, and wiped his face.

Though it wasn’t mid-noon yet, the temperature was still unbearably hot.
There wasn’t a dry spot on their bodies.
Sweat flowed down his chest in rivulets, glistening on his chiseled muscles like a layer of oil.
Yi Yan didn’t bother about the sweat on his body, rubbing his lower back instead.
Harvesting grain wasn’t at all like their usual training.
A day of bending over, staring at the ground was enough to make them hurt all over and put stinging blisters on their hands.
Truth be told, it was even more grueling than training.

But no one in their entire battalion, him included, made a peep of complaint.
It was their own comrades’ fields they were harvesting, private possessions won through real military merit.
This was the treasure they risked their lives for.
It could sustain a whole family, young and old, their wives and parents.
Who wouldn’t give it their all? So, no matter how hard they were pushed, there wouldn’t be any unrest among them.

Everyone squeezed under the shade of the trees, some gulping water, some heaving like plow-pilling oxen.
But before they got to enjoy their rest too long, Yi Yan stood up once more and shouted, “Keep working.
Finish up on this hundred mu of land by noon!” 

They had even more to do in the afternoon.
The soldiers didn’t dare dally and headed towards the fields in the distance.
Yi Yan looked up at the sky, which was still blessedly cloudless.
He only hoped that that wouldn’t change until after they’d finished harvesting all the grain.

The summer harvest continued for another half a month.
After which, it was time to send the oxen out to plow the fields, and race to plant the autumn crops.
And as if the completion of the summer harvest was a signal, the weather took an abrupt turn.
The winds brought with them a heavy downpour.

Liang Feng, wearing a single-layer robe, sat beneath the eaves, watching the torrential pour, and sighed faintly, “Fortunately the grains were harvested in time.”

They wouldn’t have been so fortunate had they been just a few days late.
He smiled at the young man, now a few shades darker, “The rushed harvest was difficult on you all.
Give the militia three days of leave to rest up.” 

Yi Yan’s skin was no longer pale.
It’d been sunned lightly brownish.
But his eyes seemed even bluer.
The sight of Liang Feng’s easy smile dispelled the prolonged weariness clinging to him.
He carefully carved his image into his eyes and reported, “There are a few who’ve developed festering wounds on their hands.
The doctors said they need to apply medicine to it.
I’m afraid they’ll need an extra day or two.”

“They didn’t treat their blisters properly?” Liang Feng raised a brow.
Then he suddenly asked, “How are your hands?”

“I’m fine.”

Liang Feng didn’t believe him, “Let me see.” 

Yi Yan only paused for a moment, then extended his palm.
Liang Feng grabbed it and meticulously looked it over.
Another layer of scratches and dried blisters had formed over his thick calluses, and there was a bit of bruising.
But at least that was the worst of the damage.

Letting out a breath, he said, “All’s well if you’re alright.
Those who are injured must be treated at once.
It’s too hot now to indulge any delay.”

When those soft, slender hands slid from his palm, Yi Yan nearly forgot to snap back to reality.
There was a brief pause before he nodded. 

The blue lightning flashing in the clouds high above and the roaring thunder drew Liang Feng’s attention away.
He frowned, “This rain, it had better not start and never cease.” 

    ※

The imperial city rang with clamorous noise, clashing metal, and screams of shock.
But soon, those sounds all vanished without a trace.

A squad of armored soldiers pushed open the massive palace doors and stormed in.
The one at the head strode up to the imperial bed, “Your Majesty, your subjects have come late to the rescue!”

Huddled against the corner of the wall, a disheveled middle-aged man stammered, “Minister of Works, why are you rescuing me?” 

He hadn’t been harmed by anyone.
Clearly, he’d been sleeping; why had they barged into his room saying they were rescuing him?

Sima Yue’s face twitched, but he’d long since gotten used to the emperor’s behavior, and kept any hint of disrespect from showing on his face as he gently said, “The Prince of Chengdu launched an uprising, deposed the empress, unseated the crown prince, and disrupted law and social order.
Should it continue, all under heaven would be in danger! Thus, your subject has led troops forth, to beseech Your Majesty to personally lead an imperial campaign with your subject and bring that knave to justice…”

“Lead an imperial campaign?” Shuddering from head to toe, the middle-aged man fiercely shook his head, “I don’t want to go to battle.
You people can just do the fighting yourselves.
I’m not going!”

The arrow was nocked on the string already, there was no backing down.
Sima Yue didn’t care what that Son of Heaven was blabbering, he stood and raised his voice, “Servants, attend to His Majesty! Summon the Three Excellencies and all the officials to the palace to discuss!” 

A flock of eunuchs and palace maids scrambled to get the still-sleepy emperor changed into imperial regalia.
Sima Yue smirked ever so slightly at the rather unwilling man.

So long as he brought the emperor to the battlefield, the other nobles would naturally fall in line.
With righteousness and a powerful army on his side, he was only waiting to see how Ye City’s Sima Ying would oppose the emperor’s imperial forces!

The author has something to say:

Wang Jun and Wang Wen are cousins.
They have the same great-grandfather. 

Wang Jun’s father is Wang Shen, Wang Shen’s father Wang Ji died young, so he was raised by his uncle Wang Chang since childhood, and Wang Chang is Wang Hun’s father.

Wang Hun was the last famous high-ranking official of the Taiyuan Wang clan in the Western Jin era.
As Minister of the Masses, it could be said that he was one of the big players in crushing the Wu Kingdom.
He also had an extremely famous son called Wang Ji, the wastrel mentioned countless times in A New Account of the Tales of the World, the son-in-law of Sima Yan.
They weren’t murdered by anyone, they died naturally.
Plus, Wang Ji died before his father Wang Hun.
There’s another thing about Wang Ji, and that is that he once pleaded on behalf of Liu Yuan and saved his life.
That’s why Liu Yuan was pretty amicable with that father and son of the Wang family for three generations.

Wang Wen, on the other hand, is Wang Hun’s fourth son.
He was likely birthed by the wife of the Yan family that his father remarried to.
Because the one who inherited Wang Hun’s noble title was Wang Ji’s non-lineal, he isn’t the heir of the Jinyang Wang clan, but only a lofty, do-nothing noble. 

Afterward, Wang Jun had his daughter married off to the leader of the Xianbei, and later enticed them to fight their way into the central plains.
He was a very ambitious fellow.