Chapter 76: Liu Wenjing's Assessment

Night had fallen.

In the western part of Jinyang, within Liu Wenjing’s residence.

“The entire city is laughing at the Martial Commandant of the east,” Pei Ji remarked quietly as he knelt behind the wooden table, setting down his wine cup.

“I’ve heard a bit of it myself these past days,” Liu Wenjing replied, swallowing the fine wine in his throat. He set his cup aside, glanced at the young girl of twelve or thirteen pouring for him, then looked at Pei Ji, smiling.

“However, there’s one thing I see differently from the rest,” Liu Wenjing continued.

Pei Ji grew curious at these words, raising a hand to invite Liu Wenjing to elaborate.

“Pan Changwen, Zhao Wenke, Zhang Pinggao, and all those prominent families of the west—none of them have been to the east to see for themselves. They have no idea how formidable that Fu Zihou truly is.” Liu Wenjing stroked his long beard as he spoke with a smile.

“Oh? Formidable, you say?” Pei Ji’s interest was piqued, and he looked on with questioning eyes. “What is so special about this Fu Zihou?” he asked, lifting the freshly filled wine cup to drink with Liu Wenjing.

After a cup of fine wine, Pei Ji set his cup down and gazed intently at Liu Wenjing.

Liu Wenjing, after a moment’s contemplation, finally looked at Pei Ji. “I have visited the east myself and witnessed the soldiers obeying every command without the slightest complaint,” he said, recalling the scene vividly in his mind.

“I thought you were going to say something of significance!” Pei Ji could not help but laugh, waving his hand dismissively. “Fu Zihou is the Martial Commandant of the east, with soldiers under his command. Who would dare defy him?”

After all, Fu Zihou was appointed by the emperor himself, stationed in the east by Pan Changwen’s orders; naturally, the soldiers there wouldn’t dare disobey. What was so remarkable about that?

“Exactly what Pan Changwen and the others fail to see!” Liu Wenjing shook his head, a rare break from his usual composure. Only after Pei Ji stopped laughing did he continue.

“In the west, the soldiers’ fear of Pan Changwen is not the same as the respect the soldiers of the east have for Fu Zihou,” Liu Wenjing said, picking up a pair of chopsticks. He split them between his hands, placed one at the edge of the table, half-suspended, and weighed it down with his wine cup, saying, “This is power.” Then he set the other chopstick flat on the table, explaining, “And this is affection.”

“If Pan Changwen loses his power…” Liu Wenjing lifted his cup, and the weighted chopstick fell to the ground.

“It’s an abyss with no bottom!” he finished, watching as the maid went to fetch a new set of chopsticks before turning his gaze back to Pei Ji.

Pei Ji was silent, his eyes fixed on the other chopstick, still lying steady on the wooden table.

The atmosphere grew quiet. Only after some time did Liu Wenjing speak again.

“Everyone assumes that Fu Zihou’s victory over Zhang Jinchen in Qinghe was pure luck, but after my recent observations, I am certain—it was no mere stroke of fortune,” Liu Wenjing declared, having reached this conclusion after his own careful scrutiny in the east.

Pan Changwen and the other officials of Jinyang looked down on Fu Zihou, seeing only his apparent submission and meekness; their prejudice blinded them, keeping them from seeing for themselves what was happening in the east.

This was where Liu Wenjing differed from the rest—he excelled at observation.

“Then why do you stand by and do nothing about the east?” Pei Ji asked, furrowing his brow, even more puzzled by Liu Wenjing’s high estimation of Fu Zihou.

If he truly saw great talent in Fu Zihou, why not offer him some advice and win his gratitude? It would surely be to his benefit in the future.

Liu Wenjing chuckled, stroking his beard. As the maid brought over a fresh pair of chopsticks, he looked at Pei Ji with a meaningful glance.

“What use is there in trying to join two chopsticks that will never come together?” he retorted.

Pei Ji was momentarily taken aback, then laughed, shaking his head at Liu Wenjing, inwardly marveling at the man’s cunning.

Fu Zihou and Pan Changwen were at odds; even knowing Fu Zihou’s talents, Liu Wenjing would not show him any favor, not even a word of warning.

Pei Ji could not decide whether to call Liu Wenjing shrewd or simply too wary and self-serving.

Yet Liu Wenjing was not wrong. Pan Changwen was the commander of Jinyang; mere talent was not enough for Fu Zihou—he needed Pan Changwen’s support. Especially now…

“Even with military talent, it’s hard to escape this calamity,” Pei Ji murmured, shaking his head.

“Indeed. The world is full of military geniuses, but in the end, talent without influence at court is like living with a sword hanging over one’s neck,” Liu Wenjing agreed. Judging by Fu Zihou’s conduct in the east, if not for his title, or if this were another place outside of Jinyang, his actions would be seen as commendable, even meritorious.

Alas, such a pity!

Thinking of Fu Zihou and his straightforward assessment of the east’s dilapidated state, acting solely as a general without regard for the court, Liu Wenjing finally gave his evaluation to Pei Ji, smiling.

“He lacks Han Xin’s genius, yet suffers Han Xin’s fate,” Liu Wenjing concluded, lifting his wine cup.

“That’s an apt description! Hahaha!” Pei Ji laughed heartily at Liu Wenjing’s words—Fu Zihou did not have Han Xin’s talents, yet had inherited his misfortunes.

The two men shared a smile, drinking together in the deep of night.

As darkness deepened, Pei Ji eventually took his leave, and Liu Wenjing, still kneeling behind the table, relaxed contentedly.

Lady Li entered the main hall with the maid, clearing away the remnants of the meal as she looked at her husband.

“My dear, that young man from before seemed quite promising. Why not lend him a hand?” she could not help but say.

Remembering the youth she had seen that day, Lady Li felt a strong sense of goodwill toward him. She could not say why, but the way he had formally saluted her, the look in his eyes—it always seemed as though there was something he wanted to say, yet he held it back.

“What would a woman know?” Liu Wenjing opened his eyes at her words, frowning at her.

“Not only is Fu Zihou at odds with Pan Changwen, but with his temperament, we would do well to keep our distance, lest we invite trouble,” he warned, telling his wife to put such thoughts aside and speak no more of the youth.

Lady Li sighed softly at his response and fell silent. Her husband’s talent and ability surpassed most, yet his cautious and self-serving nature meant few were willing to help him in return.

She feared that one day, should he require help, aside from Pei Ji, others might treat him in just the same way he treated them.