bayedsolid Chapter 512 The Land of Bashu
Chapter 512 The Land of Bashu
Ba Pu's fingertips unconsciously traced the rim of his teacup, and the image of the military parade in Xianyang at the beginning of the year suddenly flooded his mind. On the drill ground on the north bank of the Wei River, black banners surged like waves of ink, their fluttering sound drowning out the breath of a hundred thousand armored soldiers. Sunlight struck the iron helmets of the Qin soldiers, the cold light bursting forth like the sharp edge of an ice-quenched blade, even the dust kicked up by the horses' hooves carried an undeniable savagery—a weight enough to crush all resistance, settling in his heart, still feeling heavy even after more than half a year.
"Back when Qin conquered Ba and Shu, your maternal grandfather pounded his fist on the table and cursed it as a disaster." Ba Qing's voice, carried by the rustling of banyan leaves, flowed slowly over. "But I was thinking, perhaps it was a way out."
She raised her hand to remove the wisps of banyan fluff clinging to her temple, her fingertips hovering in mid-air. "Look at Han, Zhao, and Yan now. The walls of Handan have been cracked by the Qin army, the city gates of Daliang have been replaced three times, and even ten-year-old children in the streets of Ji can count how many times the Qin army has come and gone. After decades of fighting, the city is reduced to rubble, and the people have filled the ditches. Even if they were all tied together, could they possibly stop the Qin cavalry?"
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside the courtyard wall. It was a vendor carrying a load of goods shouting at the street corner, his voice filled with the fiery heat unique to Sichuan: "The Chu envoy has arrived at the post station—a grand banquet has been prepared, and all the prominent figures in the city have been invited!"
Ba Pu's ears twitched slightly, and he could hear a deliberate incitement hidden in the vendor's shouts. He thought of the people on the banquet list: the Liao brothers from the west of the city, whose ancestors had been chariot officers of the King of Shu, now living off a few acres of meager land, yet always swearing oaths in front of the faded portrait of the King of Shu in the ancestral hall;
There were also a few old men from Jianwei County. Last month, when he went to inspect the iron mine, he happened to see them squatting at the foot of the city wall, telling the story of Du Yu turning into a cuckoo to a child wearing open-crotch pants. After they finished telling the story, they would spit on the ground, sweeping the dust off with the corner of their coarse cloth robes, and their curses were sharper than the cicadas' chirping: "The Qin people are jackals!" At this moment, these people were probably hurrying to the post station under the cover of dusk, thinking that they could find the prescription for "restoring the Shu Kingdom" in the wine cups of the Chu Kingdom.
"An envoy from Chu?" Ba Qing opened his eyes, a hint of mockery flashing across his deep brown eyes, as quick as a shooting star across the night sky. "Is he here to persuade the people of Shu to be their targets? Just like when he persuaded Zhao to form an alliance against Qin, promising to fight together, but in the Battle of Changping, 400,000 Zhao soldiers fell in pools of blood, while Chu's reinforcements were still dawdling on the banks of the Huai River."
Ba Qing suddenly chuckled softly, a laugh tinged with an indescribable flavor, like aged wine, pungent yet with a sweet aftertaste. "There are always some people in Shu who live in a dream world, thinking that Qin has taken our land and will have to give it back sooner or later. Just a few days ago, some members of the old clans came to my residence, rubbing their hands together, saying they wanted to borrow some iron. Their eyes were frighteningly bright, saying they wanted to 'restore our country'."
Bapu's brows furrowed. He recognized the leader of the old tribe, surnamed Chang, whose arm still bore the scar from an arrow wound inflicted during the Qin conquest of Shu. When the man arrived, he wore a faded brocade robe, and a gleaming bronze sword hung at his waist—the Shu-style cloud pattern on the scabbard was almost worn smooth, yet the blade itself had never been sharpened.
"Pu'er, on your way to the iron mine, did you see the plank road of Wushan?" Ba Qing suddenly asked, his voice becoming more serious.
“I’ve seen it.” Bapu nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “At its narrowest point, it was only wide enough for one person and one horse to walk along the cliff face. Below was a deep valley with swirling clouds and mist. When the wind blew, even the horseshoes trembled.” He remembered that the wooden beams of the plank road were made of the hardest oak wood in Shu. The iron tenons wedged into the rock face gleamed coldly, clearly the work of Qin craftsmen.
“That plank road was built by the Qin people.” Ba Qing suddenly sat up straight, the bamboo chair making a short creak. “Back then, King Zhaoxiang of Qin sent Bai Qi out of Wuguan Pass, cutting all the way to Wujun and Qianzhongjun. The Chu soldiers didn’t even have a proper formation before handing over the cities. Now, they’re thousands of miles away, and they still dare to say they want to help Shu?”
Dusk settled slowly, like cotton wool soaked in water. The sound of the night watchman striking his clapper came from outside the courtyard wall, "dong—dong—", two strikes, unhurried, yet like tapping on everyone's heart.
Ba Qing closed his eyes again, and the rocking chair began to sway gently again. The creaking of the wooden shafts mingled with the faint sounds of forging coming from the iron mine in the distance, creating a strange harmony. "The affairs of Chu and the affairs of the Six Kingdoms are nothing more than wind and rain outside the eaves for us."
Her voice was softer, but carried more weight: "What we must do is protect the salt and iron of Shu, protect the banyan tree in this courtyard, and when the Qin King's iron cavalry tramples the six kingdoms, let Shu shed less blood."
A gust of wind swept in from outside the courtyard, carrying a few withered banyan leaves that gently landed on Ba Qing's lap. She raised her hand to brush them away, her fingertips inadvertently touching the black jade thumb ring on her thumb. Beneath the cool jade, the engraved mark of the character "Qin" made her fingertip tingle slightly—it was a gift from the King of Qin ten years ago when she went to Xianyang to deliver the first batch of Shu brocade. The jade was sourced from the Kunlun Mountains, and the craftsman who engraved it was said to have carved the Imperial Seal of the State for successive Qin kings.
Watching his foster mother's actions, Ba Pu suddenly seemed to be awakened by something. Those who were still dreaming of "uniting against Qin" were like cicadas in the summer, clinging to branches and chirping desperately, thinking they could block out autumn with their noise, unaware that frost had already crept up the veins of the leaves.
From the direction of the distant post station, the faint sounds of clinking cups and the clamor of revelry could be heard. The voice of the Chu envoy drifted through the night, passionate and stirring: "As long as Shu raises an army, my great Chu is willing to send 100,000 armored soldiers to advance westward along the Yangtze River and share the Qin land with you all!" This was followed by a chorus of cheers and agreement. Amid the clinking of wine cups, several voices were trembling with emotion, as if they were too excited to speak.
A cold smile curled at the corner of Bapu's lips. "Mother is saying that those who can't see the bigger picture..."
“It’s time to wake up.” Ba Qing suddenly opened her eyes, interrupting him, her sharp eyes like unsheathed swords. “It’s only a matter of time before the King of Qin conquers the six kingdoms. The iron mines of Shu, Princess Jiayang’s granaries, and even the land beneath your feet are all paving the way to Xianyang.”
She looked at Bapu, her gaze softening with a hint of expectation. "Your maternal grandfather always said that Sichuan has the danger of Jianmen Pass and the fortification of the Three Gorges, which can ensure peace for generations to come. But he forgot that the real natural barrier is never the mountains and rivers, but the eyes that can see the times clearly."
The wind outside the courtyard suddenly picked up, rustling the leaves of the banyan tree as if countless people were whispering in unison. From the direction of the iron mine in the distance, the work chants of the night shift workers could be faintly heard, "Heave-ho—heave-ho—", deep and powerful, blending with the creaking of the rocking chair and the watchman's clapper, weaving an invisible net that captured the night of Sichuan and also the impending great changes in the world.
Ba Pu gripped the teacup tightly; the emerald tea had long since cooled. He gazed at his foster mother's profile, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes each telling a story—the stories of her leading caravans through the snow and wind of the Qinling Mountains, the stories of her waiting three days and three nights before finally seeing the King of Qin at the Xianyang Palace, the stories of her watching the iron from Shu be transformed into swords, halberds, and armor for the Qin army, and then transported back to Shu to bring about a peaceful life.