The Emperor and the Axe and Halberd
Meanwhile, Sima Yi, who had crossed into Eastern Wu with schemes of his own, was meeting with Sun Quan.
"…And so His Majesty has sent me to express his good faith and friendship. As for that man Cao Wei, he is scheduled for execution — Your Highness need not concern yourself with the matter in the slightest. Ah, for all we know, the sentence may already have been carried out by now."
"Mm. Yes… of course…"
Sima Yi spoke with perfect courtesy, and Sun Quan did his best to keep his expression under control. Still, one side of his face kept wanting to twist, and there was nothing he could do about it.
"We also return this treasure to Your Highness. Cao Wei seems to have handled it roughly — there is a slight blemish on one side — but it remains a precious object all the same. I trust Your Highness will be gracious enough to understand that we could not restore it entirely unmarred."
"Very well…"
To Sun Quan's ears, everything Sima Yi said sounded like this:
You were stupid enough to get played by a swindler. We cleaned up the mess for you.
It was a profound humiliation. On the chance that Cao Wei might actually serve as a go-between in diplomacy with Wei, Sun Quan had sent letters and treasures along with him.
And the man had turned out to be nothing more than a worthless freeloader.
Sun Quan had meant to use him to resolve a diplomatic problem. Instead, he had been the one used.
Had he later settled the matter himself and personally held Cao Wei to account, he might at least have salvaged some face. Cao Pi and Sima Yi had made even that impossible.
There was nothing left for him to do. Wei had already finished the investigation, and Cao Wei had been beheaded for sowing unrest among the people.
"Very well. I understand. You may withdraw."
"Yes, Your Highness. I shall take my leave… Ah, one more thing…"
"What else is there?"
Sima Yi made as if to go, then pretended something had just occurred to him and bowed once more before Sun Quan.
"In this affair, General Who Pacifies the North of Shu, Lord Jin Cheong, also played a considerable part."
"J-Jin Cheong, you say?"
"Indeed. It was Lord Jin Cheong, who had come as an envoy, who saw through Cao Wei's cunning tricks and cooperated with our investigation. With remarkable sharpness of eye, she recognized at once that the man was a fraud. For that reason, our state of Wei treated Lord Jin Cheong with every courtesy. Given that she helped preserve Your Highness's dignity as well, it was only proper."
"Mm…"
The more Sun Quan listened, the more he felt his insides churning and boiling.
I sent letter after letter, gifts upon gifts — and Jin Cheong saw through that bastard's deception in a single glance…?!
Still bowed low, Sima Yi watched Sun Quan's face from the corner of his eye. The lord's lips twitched; the veins stood out on his neck. He looked as though he were barely holding back a rage ready to erupt at any moment.
Is this man truly the son of the Tiger of Jiangdong? Up through the Battle of Red Cliffs, I had heard he was a shrewd ruler. The future of Eastern Wu looks bleak indeed. Tsk, tsk.
Sun Quan, having only just mastered himself, dismissed Sima Yi.
"I understand. You may go."
"Yes, Your Highness. Then… until we meet again."
Sima Yi bowed deeply and went out.
Even after he had gone, Sun Quan stared for a long time at the coral tree resting on his desk — as though it were Cao Wei himself, the man who had deceived him.
Suddenly he surged to his feet. Seizing the iron club that stood nearby, he raised it high over his head and fixed his eyes on the target.
"Your Highness…!"
Zhang Zhao, standing at his side, had no time to intervene. The iron club traced a clean arc and came crashing down.
CRACK!
With a deafening noise the coral tree shattered into fragments, and the desk itself split apart. Shards of the ruined coral went skittering in every direction.
"Your Highness… compose yourself. This is Cao Pi's scheme to provoke you. A cunning ploy of honeyed words meant to drive a wedge between Wu and Shu. Do not fall for it."
"I know. I know that…"
Zhang Zhao managed, just barely, to throw water on the wildfire of Sun Quan's rage and bring him back under control.
Sun Quan drew a deep breath. He was furious, but he had not lost all reason.
The failure of the Jingzhou campaign had cost Wu considerable strength. To overcome the vast disparity in national power with Wei, an alliance with Shu was essential.
Even knowing in his head that this was Cao Pi's design, the resentment simmering in his gut was hard to swallow.
Jin Cheong. That woman…!
She was the one who had shattered his personal troops during the Jingzhou campaign and left him humiliated. Not only that — Zhou Tai, a man he had cherished, had met his end by her hand.
They had recovered Zhou Tai after he fell to Jin Cheong's spear, but his wounds had been too severe, and in the end he had died.
Sun Quan had given him a proper funeral, resolved to set the grudge aside, and rededicated himself to his duties as a sovereign. But Sima Yi's artful tongue had raked up the embers of anger still smoldering inside him.
Zhang Zhao's counsel had damped them for the moment, yet the sparks were far from fully extinguished.
Zhang Zhao, for his part, looked at the coral tree and desk Sun Quan had destroyed and could not suppress a heavy feeling.
He had seen a similar scene once before — just prior to the Battle of Red Cliffs.
Then, too, Sun Quan had drawn his sword and struck the desk. He had sliced away one corner of it, cutting away his own hesitation in the same stroke, and united the hearts of Eastern Wu's ministers as one.
But the scene before him now could not, by any stretch, be considered the same.
"Your Highness, calm yourself and retire for now. I will summon the servants to clear this away."
At Zhang Zhao's order, servants hurried in and cleared the wrecked desk and the coral fragments scattered across the floor.
The fall of a dynasty. And Cao Pi's ascension to the throne.
While everyone suppressed their agitation and threw themselves into their assigned duties, word arrived from Chengdu.
Liu Bei had taken the imperial throne.
Emperor Liu Bei.
By elevating himself to emperor, he made plain his intent to carry on the Han — a dynasty that now existed in name alone. And there was another meaning, no less important: he was drawing his sword against Cao Pi, the man who had brought the Han to ruin.
Stationed in Jingzhou and unable to attend the enthronement, we turned toward Chengdu, bowed, and cried out, Long live His Imperial Majesty!
Civil and military officials alike, along with the common people of Jingzhou, poured into the streets, shouting the imperial cheer and prostrating themselves — a spectacle magnificent enough to take the breath away.
Looking at that sight, one thing was clear:
At the very least, the hearts of Jingzhou's people are with us.
In days past, Jingzhou had faced a combined assault from Wei and Wu and endured a stretch of truly desperate hardship. That they had overcome that suffering and still chose to follow Liu Bei was a considerable relief.
A sweeping reorganization of appointments followed hard upon the news.
"Zhuge Liang is hereby appointed Chancellor and granted the full imperial credentials."
Chancellor Zhuge Liang.
In the original history, Zhuge Liang had received the chancellorship only to lose Liu Bei not long after. But now?
He would be able to serve Emperor Liu Bei as Chancellor for far longer.
Among the other appointments, Guan Yu was raised to Grand General, Zhang Fei to General of Chariots and Cavalry, and Ma Chao to General of the Agile Cavalry.
Grand General was the highest rank a military commander could attain; General of Chariots and Cavalry and General of the Agile Cavalry stood just beneath it among the great offices of state.
And me?
"Jin Cheong is hereby granted the office of Left General."
I had already risen at a breakneck pace, but this, too, counted as an extraordinary promotion.
Left General was one of the Four Directional Generals — Front, Left, Right, and Rear — and though it fell short of General of Chariots and Cavalry or General of the Agile Cavalry, it was still a position of considerable rank.
Previously, as a king, Liu Bei had been limited in the offices he could bestow. Now that he was emperor, it felt as though he meant to grant every appointment within his power to its fullest extent.
But something more meaningful than the Left Generalship was conferred upon me as well:
"Furthermore, the Axe and Halberd are hereby bestowed upon Jin Cheong."
I received the Axe and Halberd from the envoy with both hands. Looking upon the finely wrought form of the ceremonial axe, a thrill ran through my chest.
This was no mere weapon.
The Axe and Halberd were ceremonial arms that signified the delegation of authority to a general taking the field. In short: the conduct of war is entrusted to you — move your troops as you see fit.
When Liu Bei had become King of Hanzhong, Ma Chao and Zhang Fei had received the authority to punish subordinates. Guan Yu held something higher still — the Jiajieyue, combining both the staff of authority and the ceremonial axe.
Beyond that, most of Shu's principal figures were either promoted or granted new offices. The reason Liu Bei was bestowing ranks and powers so freely was almost certainly this:
The northern campaign.
No official announcement had yet been made, but it seemed a clear declaration of Liu Bei's will: raise the morale of generals and soldiers to its peak, then march north.
Cao Pi had toppled the Han imperial house and claimed the throne. He would be flush with the arrogance of standing at the highest seat a human being could occupy — and yet, at the same time, his position was unstable.
Even in ruin, the Han had endured for four hundred years. Within Wei itself there would be those who nursed quiet discontent, and the people's hearts would not yet be fully settled.
Before that internal order could solidify, Liu Bei would surely proclaim his resolve to overthrow the traitor Cao Pi and launch the northern expedition.
There was a reason he had granted me the Axe and Halberd. It meant that if I took part in the northern campaign, the emperor himself authorized me to command as I saw fit.
Sure enough, word arrived from Chengdu before long.
"Pang Tong is summoned to Chengdu."
The order of recall fell upon Pang Tong in Xiangyang.
The reason for bringing a talent of Pang Tong's caliber to the capital was almost certainly to deliberate the grand strategy of the northern campaign.
And so, before he departed, I arranged a meeting of the three of us — Pang Tong, Xu Shu, and myself — to discuss the strategy that lay ahead.