Weird Three Kingdoms

Chapter 3796 The Kingly Way Cannot Be Doubted to the Sage's Wisdom; Iron Armor Clangs as It Breaks Through Ninefold Heavens

Cao Pi was wrong, but a very strange thing happened.

The emperor may be wrong, but he cannot be wrong either.

The rules governing the Han Dynasty in Shandong and the Central Plains are infallible.

If an error occurs, please refer to the first point.

For example, when natural disasters or man-made calamities occur, according to Lao Dong, it means that the gods are dissatisfied, angry, and there are problems on earth. However, the one who bears the responsibility is not the so-called "Son of Heaven," but the "Three Dukes."

Regardless of how many days or how many weeks this "three public expenses" official has been in office, the issue remains the same: these "three public expenses."

This is an "unspoken rule" that started in the Han Dynasty; it is the operating system of this carefully constructed political myth and ruling ideology.

Old Dong may have thought about it, or felt that he could rely on "the wisdom of future generations," but it is clear that his theory of "interaction between heaven and man" will only be used more and more distorted.

"Divine mandate" is the most fundamental theoretical basis for all ancient feudal rulers to place themselves above the common people.

The emperor was called the "Son of Heaven," a title used to indicate, or to conceal, the fact that his power did not derive from the people, but rather appeared to come from Heaven. The ruler's rule was "by the mandate of Heaven," so if the people questioned the ruler's mistakes, it was tantamount to the people questioning "Heaven"...

In the clan system of feudal dynasties, the emperor was the supreme "father" or "mother," officials were "parent officials," and the common people were "subjects." In such a system, "parents" were always the symbols of authority, and if an elder admitted to making a mistake, it would shake the stability of the entire family structure.

At the same time, the most crucial point is to maintain the legitimacy of the rule and social stability.

The legitimacy of the rule is based on the assumption that "the emperor is wise and all-knowing." If this myth is shattered, then the challenge of "Are kings and nobles born with special privileges?" will follow, and the people may rise up in the name of "correcting mistakes" to question the bureaucrats within the entire ruling structure.

As for bureaucrats, who doesn't know how much filth lies beneath their own purse strings...

Admitting a mistake can trigger questioning of a range of related decisions.

This would be like toppling dominoes, causing the collapse of the entire policy system and even the legitimacy of the regime.

Therefore, maintaining the image of the emperor or superior as "never making a mistake" is also maintaining one's own power, and is the lowest-cost and most effective way to maintain the order of the entire empire.

Historically, emperors issuing edicts of self-reproach to admit their mistakes was usually a last resort when natural disasters were frequent, the people were suffering, and the regime was on the verge of collapse. It was a crisis management and performance aimed at "rebooting" legitimacy, rather than genuine systemic correction.

Even so, it is extremely rare and heavy.

Therefore, it is now clear that Cao Pi is "wrong"...

But the question is, can Cao Pi admit his mistake?

Or could it be said that it was Cao Pi's "fault"?

When Ren Jun fell, Cao Pi was standing on the city gate tower.

problem occurs……

This is a problem that everyone is aware of.

The firelight flickered in the autumn night wind, partially obscuring Cao Pi's face.

Cao Pi was the heir apparent. According to "reason," even princes who break the law should be punished, let alone the heir apparent.

However, Cao Pi only sent Ren Jun to "test" it out, so how can it be said that Cao Pi was at fault?

Was Cao Pi's original intention good?

As for whether it's a trial or temporary process...

The saying "Princes are subject to the same laws as commoners" is written extensively in the Records of the Grand Historian, making it seem like a testament to a clean and efficient political system and a rigorous legal system. However, in reality, this whole thing was a deception from beginning to end.

The story of "the prince breaking the law" refers to a time during Shang Yang's reforms. Historical records state that the crown prince was caught red-handed violating the laws Shang Yang had established. After reviewing the evidence, Shang Yang concluded that the facts were clear and the evidence sufficient, and according to the law, the prince should be sentenced to corporal punishment. However, the crown prince was, after all, the crown prince, and it was unacceptable for the future ruler to be crippled. Therefore, Shang Yang devised a solution that satisfied both sides: finding a scapegoat. This scapegoat had to be someone who bore the greatest responsibility for disciplining the crown prince. After much deliberation, Shang Yang found two people: Prince Qian and Gongsun Jia.

Okay, regardless of whether this 'scapegoat' is legal or not, let's just talk about the veracity of this story...

In 356 BC, Duke Xiao of Qin appointed Shang Yang as the Left Chancellor and implemented the first reform in the Qin state. In what year was the "prince" involved in this event, namely King Huiwen of Qin, whose surname was Ying, clan name Zhao, and given name Si, born?

Sorry, it was also 356 BC.

Then Shang Yang said that the new law had been in effect for a year, but the reason it couldn't be implemented was that the "prince" had broken the law...

What law did the one-year-old "prince" break?

Was it due to improper defecation, or did you wet the bed and not draw a circle?

No wonder Prince Qian hated Shang Yang. It was as if Shang Yang had openly declared that he knew this wasn't your fault, but he was going to pin the blame on you anyway. What could you do? What could you do about it?

Gongzi Qian then secluded himself for eight years, preparing a great plan, and upon emerging, he killed Shang Yang.

The firelight illuminated Cao Pi's pale face.

He watched as Ren Jun's mangled corpse was lifted up by the cavalrymen, blood gushing from his chest and abdomen, shimmering darkly in the firelight.

The city walls were deathly silent.

The soldiers guarding Ye City watched this scene silently, their eyes filled with complex emotions.

Some people looked sorrowful, some avoided eye contact, and some even secretly glanced at Cao Pi, their eyes filled with undisguised doubt.

Cao Pi took a deep breath; he knew it was his turn to perform.

"The General of the Cavalry... what ruthless methods!" Cao Pi's voice suddenly rang out, breaking the suffocating silence. He stepped forward, his finger trembling as he pointed to the hollow outside the city where a bloody battle had just taken place. "They devised such a treacherous scheme to lure and kill my loyal and brave soldiers! General Ren... Boda! I am heartbroken!"

Cao Pi's voice choked at the right moment, he paused perfectly, and turned slightly to expose his face to the firelight, so that everyone could see the tears streaming down his face and the 'grief and indignation' he displayed.

"General Ren was loyal to the country and led his troops into battle, intending to defeat the enemy and achieve merit. But alas... alas, the General of the Cavalry was treacherous, setting up an ambush! He was murdered!" Cao Pi's voice gradually rose, tinged with theatrical indignation. "They feigned internal strife, but in reality, they secretly colluded and devised this vicious scheme! How hateful! How utterly hateful!"

Cao Pi slammed his fist heavily on the battlement, making a dull thud.

Several military academy students who were nearby subconsciously lowered their heads, whether moved by the words or unable to bear watching the clumsy performance.

This logic...

Even disregarding the facts, this is still valid.

"General Ren, facing danger without fear, led his troops in a valiant battle, but ultimately, due to the enemy's superior numbers..." Cao Pi continued his speech, his voice deliberately tinged with sorrow, "This was not a failure in battle, but rather the result of the cunning and cruelty of the Flying Cavalry! This grudge will be forever etched in the memory of the entire city of Ye!"

Cao Pi turned around, his gaze sweeping over the soldiers on and off the city wall, finally settling on Chen Qun, who had remained silent.

"A long document," Cao Pi's voice suddenly softened, tinged with "heartache," "General Ren sacrificed his life for the country; his will is commendable. Issue my order! Give General Ren a grand funeral befitting a general who led the Northern Expedition, and provide compensation to his family! All other fallen soldiers shall receive generous compensation!"

Chen Qun stood there quietly, his official robes fluttering slightly in the morning breeze.

His face was expressionless, showing neither agreement nor disagreement.

Only after Cao Pi's gaze gradually revealed a different expression did he nod slightly: "Your Highness is kind and benevolent; I will take care of it immediately."

There were no questions, no follow-ups, and not even the slightest bit of surprise.

Chen Qun accepted it so naturally, as if Ren Jun's death was entirely the responsibility of the Flying Cavalry and had nothing to do with Cao Pi's secret order the previous night.

Several of Cao's military officers standing to the side exchanged knowing glances. One of them stepped forward, his voice booming: "Your Highness, you are wise! The General of the Cavalry did indeed use deception. General Ren's heroic death is a true model for our army! This humble general swears that one day I will avenge General Ren!"

This timely endorsement immediately spurred several other generals to voice their opinions.

Soon, shouts of "Avenge General Ren!" rang out from the city walls.

The ordinary Cao soldiers, who did not understand what had happened or the specifics, were gradually infected and overshadowed by this collective emotion.

Cao Pi secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at Chen Qun and found that he had already turned around and was quietly instructing his subordinates to handle the matters of compensation.

His calm demeanor made it seem as if nothing had just happened.

"A long article..." Cao Pi took a few steps closer, his voice lowered, "I... thought..."

"Your Highness handled the situation well." Chen Qun interrupted him, his voice calm and even. "Stabilizing morale and comforting the soldiers are the most important tasks at present. General Ren sacrificed his life for the country and deserves to be treated with the utmost respect."

Chen Qun's gaze swept past Cao Pi, then looked at the battlefield outside the city where the smoke of battle had not yet dissipated, before quickly returning to his own.

Cao Pi was taken aback and looked at Chen Qun, only to find that Chen Qun's eyes were as calm as still water, without even the slightest ripple.

Cao Pi suddenly understood. Chen Qun didn't believe his words, but rather accepted this "explanation."

At this critical moment, Ye City needs a facade of unity, a common enemy, and a ruler who cannot make mistakes.

As for the truth, it doesn't matter.

The mistakes of the rulers must be covered up; the authority of the rulers must be upheld.

This is the survival rule in chaotic times, and also the tacit understanding among those in high positions.

"Issue the order to the entire army," Cao Pi straightened his back, his voice regaining its usual authority, "From this day forward, the entire army shall wear mourning clothes for three days to commemorate General Ren and all the fallen soldiers! We must make everyone remember how the Flying Cavalry used treacherous schemes to persecute my loyal and brave soldiers!"

The order was passed down quickly.

Soon, white banners began to be hung throughout Ye City, and soldiers wrapped white cloth around their arms.

A disastrous defeat that should have led to accountability was cleverly transformed into a "tragic sacrifice".

When Ren Jun's cenotaph and coffin were solemnly laid to rest, Cao Pi personally attended the ceremony to pay his respects.

He stood before the tomb, his expression solemn, as if he were truly grieving the passing of a loyal minister.

Chen Qun stood half a step behind him, still silent.

They knew that beneath that thick coffin lay not just a thin robe, but an unspeakable truth.

After the funeral, Chen Qun suddenly said softly, "Your Highness, after this battle, we must be even more cautious in the future."

Cao Pi paused slightly and nodded. He knew this was Chen Qun reminding him, and also his final warning.

The mistakes of rulers can be covered up, but someone must ultimately bear the consequences.

Today, the price paid is the lives of Ren Jun and hundreds of Cao Jun's soldiers.

Who will it be tomorrow?

Cao Pi dared not think any further.

He quickened his pace and left, as if that would allow him to escape the answer to that question.

Behind him, the rising dust covered the coffin, burying right and wrong forever underground.

……

……

In Hanoi in autumn, the sky is high and the clouds are light. The sunlight is no longer as scorching as in the height of summer, but carries a sense of ease and tranquility.

The wind carried the scent of dust and withered grass, causing the tricolor battle flags of the cavalry to flutter loudly.

Niu Dalang squatted on the earthen embankment by the roadside, carefully wiping the ring-pommel knife in his hand with a piece of coarse linen cloth.

The blade reflected a cold light in the autumn sun, illuminating his dark and slightly rough face.

He was originally an ordinary farmer's son, the eldest in his family, with a younger sister.

Simple names: Niu Dalang and Niu Xiaomei.

It wasn't that his father didn't want to give him names like "Yanlin," "Jingwan," "Jietong," or "Jiahao," but rather that his father was barely literate, and even his own name was given to him by someone else...

His original fate was probably to live in that barren mountain area, like his father and grandfather, facing the loess soil with his back to the sky, struggling to find food from the cracks in the rocks, marrying an equally poor wife, and having a bunch of children to continue this hard life.

His idea of ​​joining the army was as simple as it gets.

It wasn't because I heard any stirring rhetoric about "restoring the Han Dynasty," nor was I blinded by any promise of "a huge reward."

He just wanted to stand out!
That year, his father died, and he almost froze to death at home. It was the cavalry inspector who gave him charcoal to keep warm, giving him and his sister hope to survive.

The recruits of the Flying Cavalry, once enlisted, received not only a resettlement allowance but also certain benefits for their relatives who remained in the local area, provided by the patrol inspectors. While it wasn't a case of giving them whatever they wanted, at least they wouldn't be bullied. Otherwise, in old Shandong, if a family lost its breadwinner, eating off the descendants of the deceased would be a favorite pastime of the clan.

Moreover, once you join the camp, you'll have enough to eat and receive a monthly stipend.

For him, this was a way out, an opportunity to leave that tiny mountain valley and see the outside world.

As for promotion, he hadn't given it much thought. He only wanted to earn more money, buy some land, and in three to five years, accumulate some wealth so that his younger sister could have a grand wedding...

After joining the Flying Cavalry, he focused solely on training, obeying his superiors' orders—charging when commanded and defending when ordered. He was strong, hardworking, and fearless. After several small-scale engagements, he rose from a common soldier to a squad leader, commanding five men, based on his victories.

On the day he was promoted to corporal, the squad leader patted him on the shoulder and said, "Good lad, not bad! Here, we prove our worth through merit; we earn our living through ability and get promoted based on achievements!"

Niu Dalang didn't have a deep understanding of it at the time.

Then one day, a soldier in their team named Hou San, who was from the same hometown as the team leader, was known for his shirking of duties during training and his cowardice on the battlefield. However, after the battle, when the count was tallied, Hou San's kill count was found to be higher than that of Hou San, who had been at the forefront.

Niu Dalang felt frustrated but dared not say anything. Subconsciously, he felt that the superior was favoring his fellow villager.

But isn't this just a matter of course?
He was used to it in the village. Village chiefs and pavilion chiefs always gave the best opportunities to their own people.
But just two days later, the military law officer in charge of verifying merits came down with people to review the case. Somehow, they uncovered Hou San's false reporting of his military achievements.

Hou San was beheaded in public, all the bounty was recovered, and the captain who had sided with him was also flogged one hundred times and immediately demoted, ending up in a completely different position.

The first thing the new team leader did upon taking office was to re-publicize their team's previous battle record, with Niu Dalang's name prominently listed at the top. The reward he was entitled to was paid to him in full.

At that moment, something inside Niu Dalang was touched.

For the first time, he truly felt that, with the Flying Cavalry, there seemed to be a tangible and visible path for a peasant like him.

As long as you are willing to work hard and have the ability, you can move up the ranks.

Unlike what he had heard about Cao Cao's side, with its intricate network of powerful clans like the Xun family of Yingchuan, the Cao family of Qiaojun, and the Xiahou family, along with countless former officials and protégés, the lower-ranking soldiers toiled away while the credit mostly went to officers with connections, making promotions incredibly difficult.

In the eyes of those bigwigs in Shandong, these low-ranking soldiers were probably no different from talking livestock, or even worse. If they died, they died. Who would care what their original name was, where they came from, or what their thoughts were?
Later, he fought more and more bravely and learned to take care of his brothers. He gradually rose to the rank of squad leader. Until recently, the original squad leader was transferred to another unit as a commander due to his merits. He was recommended by the group and approved by the military commander. He was officially promoted to squad leader and commanded fifty men.

The red ribbon on his arm that represented his team leader status, and the three red stripes behind his helmet, were more precious to him than anything else.

This is what he earned through countless battles and real achievements.

"Commander, I heard that General Huang brought us here this time to fight against Prime Minister Cao... uh, Cao's main force?" A new recruit who had just joined the team asked in a low voice, his face showing both anticipation and a hint of fear that he couldn't hide.

Niu Dalang sheathed his ring-pommel sword, inserting it into its scabbard with a crisp sound.

He glanced at the new recruits, seemingly recalling his own past, when he too had nervously and apprehensively entered the battlefield. "Don't worry about those things! Instead, memorize what you've learned in training! Remember, obey orders, stay close to the ranks, don't hesitate to charge when it's time to charge, and hold your ground when it's time to defend! In battle, you protect your comrades, and they will protect you! As for the rest… we'll receive our due credit!"

Niu Dalang paused, recalling his experience of having his merits recorded incorrectly and then being corrected, and added, "If there really is a mistake, don't be afraid. Just follow the rules and go to the military commander or the military law officer. The higher-ups will investigate and clarify. With merits, you can exchange them for money and land, and you can even be like me..."

Niu Dalang patted his helmet. "Promoted to squad leader! Kid, do a good job!"

The new recruit nodded as if he understood, but the tension on his face seemed to ease a little.

As they were talking, the messenger on the hillside blew the assembly whistle.

Niu Dalang stood up, dusted himself off, and roared at his platoon of soldiers: "Ready to march! Line up! Check your weapons and armor, don't forget anything! If you get a beating, I can't take your place!"

"only!"

"knew!"

The soldiers in the squad responded in unison.

Then the platoon leader and the squad leader also began to line up and check each other.

In groups of five or six, in teams or squads, they flowed like a hundred streams converging into a river.

The Taihang Mountains are on both sides, with layer upon layer of peaks and ridges.

The mountain road winds its way forward.

They were about to cross the Taihang Mountains and meet up with the General of the Cavalry...

Looking at his brothers, most of whom also came from humble backgrounds, Niu Dalang felt a strange sense of confidence.

He vaguely sensed that they were fighting not just for a full meal, for a little reward, or for the loyalty, filial piety, benevolence, and righteousness of the Han Dynasty, but for the path beneath their feet, a path that was almost impossible to exist under the old system, a path that allowed people to stand tall and move forward.