Chapter 036: United in Heart and Mind

Shading his eyes with his hand, he surveyed the road stretching from beneath their feet into the distance. Seeing no sign of danger, he urged the troops to march quickly. Only then did Li Dong confide to Du Fuwei, “You began your journey in Zhangqiu, but it will not be the place where your glory reaches its peak.”

Du Fuwei was intrigued. “General, please enlighten me—where does my path truly lead?”

Bouncing gently atop his horse, Li Dong extended a hand and pointed toward the southeast. “Your future lies in that direction. There, you will encounter two people of great importance.” Here he paused, weighing whether to reveal their names. After a moment’s deliberation, he decided a warning was owed, but his identity as a man out of time could not be so easily betrayed.

Du Fuwei looked at him expectantly, but when Li Dong fell silent, he grew anxious, yet dared not press. He would not have others believe him a coward, intimidated by mere names. Once his army entered the Changcheng Range, it would be as a tiger in the mountains or a dragon in the sea—his word alone would rule, and none would dare to trample upon his domain.

Since Du Fuwei did not press further, and because Li Dong, after all this time and shared hardship, felt a certain brotherhood—especially now, when he needed Du Fuwei’s forces—he added, “These two also bear the surname Li. When you meet them, be exceedingly cautious.”

Du Fuwei listened, half in doubt, but Li Dong’s grave expression convinced him it was no jest. “How formidable are these two, General? To what extent could they bring about my downfall?”

Li Dong hesitated, withholding the full truth. In history, these two Li’s would strike Du Fuwei a grievous blow. Now, having crossed into the Sui’s waning days, he could not stand idly by to watch Du Fuwei’s power be chipped away. At the critical moment, he must lend him a hand, for in these chaotic times, survival depended on unity. Who knew—perhaps he himself might one day fall prey to those who sought Du Fuwei’s life.

“If ever you meet a crisis you cannot resolve, or face a perilous foe, seek me out in Zhangqiu or near Luoyang. Do not act alone, lest you unwittingly fall into a carefully laid trap. Should that happen, even I would be powerless to save you.”

Du Fuwei grew even more perplexed. Luoyang? That was the Sui’s Eastern Capital, nearly a thousand li from Zhangqiu. Why would he go there? Li Dong set out westward, yet sent him southeast—what could this mean?

“My mind is dull, General. I cannot fathom your profound meaning. Please, enlighten me: how do you know what is to come?” Du Fuwei privately wondered if Li Dong possessed some secret art, perhaps a mastery of arcane divination.

Li Dong had anticipated this suspicion. Naturally, Du Fuwei would not fully believe him and would ask how he knew such things. Li Dong smiled. “I have gazed at the night sky. A star shines in the northwest, but in the Central Plains an even brighter star has arisen. That is why I must go to Luoyang and seek out this person.”

In ancient times, men put great faith in fate and the reading of stars. Li Dong had no choice but to offer this explanation—any other would risk exposing his true origin, an unthinkable prospect.

“Since the stars appear over both the northwest and the Central Plains, why do you go alone, General, and send me farther still to the southeast?” Du Fuwei’s mind was quick, and in an instant he connected several disparate threads, sensing a question of even greater consequence.

Li Dong burst out laughing. Du Fuwei could not guess the reason, and joined in awkwardly, his laughter uncertain and uneasy. Their mirth drew curious glances from the soldiers nearby.

Abruptly, Li Dong’s laughter ceased. With a grave, almost intimidating expression, he said, “Do you suspect me of plotting against you, sending you away to stifle your ambitions?”

Du Fuwei, still caught in the act of laughing, dared not continue. “I would never dare, General. I am merely curious.”

Li Dong gestured with his chin toward a nearby soldier, who was eavesdropping with his head cocked to one side.

Du Fuwei glanced over and saw the man listening intently. He shrugged it off, reassuring Li Dong, “Let him listen, then. If he’s clever enough to follow, so be it! I myself am at a loss, how could he possibly make sense of it?”

Li Dong saw the sense in that and sighed. “With a mind as sharp as yours, why can you not see my difficulty? I send you southeast to spare you from entanglement, to preserve a force for me in calmer lands. When the time is right, I will call on you to join me in great deeds.”

Du Fuwei reflected that if Li Dong meant him harm, he would never have rescued him from that secret prison, nor gone to such lengths to send him far from danger. A surge of loyalty welled up in his breast. Clasping his hands in salute, he said, “For your kindness, General, I shall never forget. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, even at the cost of my life!”

“That’s too much, far too much!” Li Dong laughed. “Not your life, but perhaps a red carpet to welcome honored guests!”

At last, Du Fuwei’s doubts were laid to rest, and Li Dong felt a flood of relief—it was no small feat.

In truth, Li Dong’s motives were not entirely selfless. If the three major peasant forces united against the Sui instead of fighting among themselves, it was possible that the world might not fall to the Li clan of Tang. If Du Fuwei joined the Wagang stronghold early, under Li Mi’s brilliant leadership, he might well rise to great power. Thus, Li Dong set a snare: the tale of the two Lis. They did exist, but he was not referring to Li Mi, thereby secretly preventing a union between Du Fuwei and Wagang.

Li Dong’s deeper strategy was to have Du Fuwei seize the region near Jiangdu, so that when Emperor Yang was killed by his own generals, that rich territory would be firmly in their grasp. War is waged with resources: whoever commands the best supply and equipment stands the greatest chance. For that reason, Jiangdu needed a capable hand.

After about an hour’s march, Li Dong and his men circled from the west gate to set up camp near the east gate, about five or six li from the city walls. He sent a scout back to the west gate to inform Zhang Xutuo.

Li Dong, Du Fuwei, and the other officers personally oversaw the pitching of tents, digging small intersecting channels for drainage, and setting sentries at the camp’s entrance. Only when all was in order did Li Dong retire to his own tent.

Du Fuwei, Fu Gongta, Zhang Junke, and others filed in one after another.

With a smile, Li Dong asked, “Has anyone brought chess pieces? Let us amuse ourselves with a game.”

Zhang Junke and the others, men of the wilds, were fond of such diversions. Once, while looting, they had taken a set of jade chess pieces from a wealthy man, which they now presented eagerly to Li Dong.

Examining them, Li Dong found them quite different from the sets he was used to. After some time, he realized these chess pieces only became standardized in the late Tang; the current version resembled Western chess more than the modern version. Still, he grasped the basic rules.

Du Fuwei, however, was puzzled. With battle imminent and the enemy lurking within the city, why indulge in such pastimes? Could there be a deeper motive at work?

Fu Gongta wondered if this was a way to steady the men’s nerves, to hide any anxiety from their eyes.

Meanwhile, Zhang Junke, eager for a challenge, thought, “You may best me in battle, but perhaps I can best you at chess!” He was ready to test his mettle against Li Dong.

Li Dong, pleased at the prospect of such lively company, calmly gestured, “You may take the first move.”