Extra 3: "Bian Yue·Wei Zheng"
The night in the northern borderlands was vast and austere. The wind swept across the boundless Gobi Desert, stirring up fine sand that rustled against the barracks windows. Inside the central army tent, candles lit brightly.
Wei Zheng, stripped of his heavy armor and dressed only in his indigo uniform, sat behind a large desk. On one side of the desk lay border maps and military intelligence reports from various scouts. On the other, neatly stacked were documents from the capital—not imperial edicts, but imperial decrees bearing the phoenix seal and newly printed copies of the Chaowen Xinbao.
He had just finished reviewing the day's military assignments and was now picking up a copy of the Chaowen Xinbao. The scent of ink still lingered on the front page, a political commentary on vigorously promoting women's education, written with a sharp pen, clearly the work of Han Mingyuan. He read it word for word, his resolute face revealing little emotion in the candlelight. Only when he read the words "enlighten the people and strengthen the foundation of the country" did his brows twitch slightly.
The curtains were gently lifted, letting in a gust of cold air. Following them entered the room, Zhao Mang, his longtime lieutenant. Rubbing his hands together, Zhao Mang exhaled a puff of white air. His gaze swept over the newspaper in Wei Zheng's hand, and he grinned. "General, these scholars in the capital are really bold these days. They're asking all the girls to go to school? How... can that even work?" His tone carried the characteristic bluntness and a hint of bewilderment characteristic of a frontier soldier.
Wei Zheng put down the newspaper, looked at him, and said in a steady voice: "Why not?"
Zhao Mang scratched his head. "I just think...women are better off at home, sewing and raising children. What if you become wild after reading so many books?"
"Xin Ye?" Wei Zheng repeated, his gaze fixed on the massive map of the northern border hanging on the tent wall. It depicted countless fortresses, beacons, and the rise and fall of enemy and friendly forces. "Zhao Mang, do you know how we were able to learn of the movements of the Northern Di Zuoxian King's tribe three days in advance last winter, thus preventing a border raid?"
Zhao Mang was stunned: "Isn't it because our scouts are good?"
"The scouts were certainly effective," Wei Zheng said calmly, "but the initial intelligence came from the daughter of a merchant in a border market. She accompanied her father on his trade and knew a bit of the Northern Di language. She overheard a few fragments of conversation in the market, sensed something unusual, and immediately reported it to the authorities through the newly established civilian communication channel. This girl had only attended elementary school for two years."
Zhao Mang opened his mouth and was speechless for a moment.
Wei Zheng stood up, walked over to the map, and traced his fingertips across the winding border. "Your Majesty... The Queen once said that a nation's territory requires both civil and military efforts, and the unity of officials and the people to defend it. If the people are ignorant, their eyes and ears will be shut out; if the people are not united, the foundation will be unstable. The soldiers at the border shed blood, protecting not only these mountains and rivers, but also the people who live here, and the peace and hope that these people can enjoy." He paused, "This hope should not be divided by gender."
He addressed her "Niangniang" without a hint of reluctance, as if it were the natural order. To him, the coup, the shift in power, seemed merely a change of ruler more capable of leading the nation to prosperity. His loyalty remained to this land and the order that clung to it.
Zhao Mang was silent for a long moment, then nodded heavily. "General, you're right! I'm just being stupid. As long as we can protect our borders and our people, and let the children of our borderlands, both boys and girls, have a good life in the future and learn some books, that's fine!"
Wei Zheng nodded slightly, saying no more. He returned to his desk and carefully reviewed a document detailing the reopening of border markets and the demarcation of grasslands with the Zuoxian King's tribe. With the Northern Di court now embroiled in civil strife, the Zuoxian King's tribe, supported by the imperial court, was gaining strength, ushering in a rare strategic respite for the border. However, maintaining this peace required more sophisticated planning and stronger force.
The candle flame crackled and burst into sparks.
Wei Zheng raised his head and gazed out at the dark night outside the tent. A cold moon hung alone above the vast sea of sand, its clear light spreading everywhere, regardless of whether it was inside or outside the pass.
He recalled the last time he was summoned to the capital. In the Daqing Palace, she sat majestically on the phoenix throne, her black robes adorned with golden phoenixes, her clear gaze sweeping over the ministers, deciding the fate of the world. At that moment, he felt no romantic thoughts, only a near-pure admiration and confirmation—he was serving a monarch whose mind, courage, and vision far surpassed those of ordinary men.
Deep in the drawer of his desk, there was indeed a letter that would never be sent. The envelope was blank.
The letter's content was also extremely simple, consisting of only a few words, reporting recent conditions at the border and laying out several ideas for strengthening border defenses. At the end, there had once been a single "Your Majesty..." The ink paused, soaked, and ultimately blotted out, rendering it unrecognizable. What was obscured was perhaps an overly personal greeting, perhaps a concern that went beyond the bounds of a subject's duty.
Now, even this altered letter is no longer necessary.
What he guards is the vast territory under the moonlight, and the future she wants to create on this territory - no matter how difficult it is, it will always be towards a clearer and broader future.
As for the rest, they are all like the wind from outside the Great Wall, which will be blown away as soon as it passes.
Wei Zheng withdrew his gaze and refocused on the document in front of him. His silhouette, in the candlelight, was as steady and resolute as a mountain.
Outside the tent, the footsteps of patrolling soldiers and the clash of spears and swords sounded regularly, interweaving with the whistling wind, forming the eternal nocturne of the northern border.
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