Chapter Fifty-Five: In the Halls of the Court

Prime Minister Lin entered the hall in his official robes. At that moment, Grand Preceptor Li Heyan was stepping forward to present his views to the emperor when Lin unexpectedly arrived. Li Heyan’s expression registered surprise; he glanced at his student, who likewise shook his head slightly, equally in the dark. Why had Lin returned? At this hour, he ought to be enjoying retirement in Cangzhou—playing chess, tending fields, and worrying over matters of grain supply.

The emperor, seeing Lin’s return, immediately lost interest in the Grand Preceptor’s counsel and set him aside, his gaze never leaving Lin for a moment.

“Your old servant, Lin Bowen, pays homage to Your Majesty!” Lin advanced to Li Heyan’s side and knelt in respect before the emperor. The emperor rose abruptly from the dragon throne, intent on helping the aged minister to his feet. Lin was no longer young, and the emperor’s concern was evident. Li Heyan’s face darkened at the sight, his displeasure thinly veiled by a couple of feigned coughs.

The emperor, realizing his momentary lapse of composure, sat back on the throne. “Please, rise at once!”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Lin then stood up respectfully. The emperor inquired, “Prime Minister Lin, you have hurried back with such urgency—might I ask your purpose?”

Lin smiled to himself, thinking: It was Your Majesty’s secret summons that called me back to court; surely you know my purpose. But aloud he replied, “Your Majesty, this old servant has found a solution to the grain supply. Now that all is prepared, I have every confidence that this campaign will be victorious!”

The court erupted in commotion at his words; even Li Heyan was visibly startled. Northern Qi’s annexation of Jin was now a foregone conclusion. Jin’s shield infantry, invincible across the land, would at last be eliminated by Northern Qi—thus removing a threat on their behalf. However, the war would greatly diminish Northern Qi’s strength and cost them dearly in casualties. Now was the time to strike: while the enemy was still recovering, swift victory could be achieved using the fire-thunder arrows!

The fire-thunder arrows, crafted from fire-thunder seeds, had already been distributed to the archers. In preparation, the archers had long been training, each arrowhead weighted with a small sandbag to mimic the heft of the fire-thunder. The decline of Jin was inevitable; Lin had anticipated this move before Northern Qi had even mobilized.

The emperor had been inclined to approve the campaign, but out of deference to the Grand Preceptor, who had cited the lack of grain as a reason for caution, he had postponed action. Now Lin’s return had changed the situation.

“In that case…”

The emperor was about to respond. With Lin having resolved the supply issue and brimming with confidence, there was little reason to object.

“Your Majesty…” The Grand Preceptor’s student now stepped forward, intending to speak on his master’s behalf, but Lin shot him a glare that silenced him at once.

“Grand Preceptor Li is advanced in years; he need no longer trouble himself with the blood and steel of the front lines. He has served the Song dynasty for half his life, and deserves to spend his remaining years in peace. Allow this servant to shoulder the burden instead!”

With these words, Lin not only praised Li Heyan, giving him an easy exit, but also subtly rebuked his student for meddling—a delightfully sharp maneuver. Li Heyan managed a smile and thanked Lin for his concern, though inwardly he smoldered, barely restraining himself from cursing outright.

“Your Majesty, I have here a set of plans. Once Your Majesty examines them, my strategy will become clear and a decision may be made.”

With that, Lin produced the drawings before the assembled court: a technical sketch of the fire-thunder seed and a design for the improved fire-thunder arrow. At the emperor’s signal, the chief eunuch presented the documents. The emperor’s shock grew as he pored over them; the more he read, the more astonished he became.

Lin, it seemed, had secretly developed powerful new weapons in Linzhou, amassing enough to threaten even the throne itself. Without a word, his subordinates had built an entire arsenal under his nose—who could remain calm in the face of such audacity?

The private manufacture and concealment of such destructive weaponry was, strictly speaking, treasonous. Yet, considering Lin’s motives were for the good of the realm, and that he had now handed over the plans—making the invention a gift to the state—his offense could be overlooked in light of his contributions.

Though heavy punishment was warranted, his merits balanced his crimes; he would be absolved.

Li Heyan edged forward, consumed by anxiety at the emperor’s reaction, but powerless to intervene. According to the drawings, over two hundred thousand fire-thunder seeds had already been produced, nearly three hundred thousand fire-thunder arrows, and a hundred cannons were under improvement.

The emperor’s astonishment made it clear these were no ordinary plans. The other ministers began to speculate: perhaps Lin’s generous contributions and these formidable new weapons might yet bring the Song dynasty lasting glory.

As he handed over the plans, Lin kept his head bowed, not daring to meet the emperor’s eyes, fearful that a single fit of imperial wrath might bring ruin upon his entire clan.

To his surprise, the emperor approved the campaign, granting Lin command. Lin’s face lit up with joy, and he hastened to express his gratitude: “Thank you, Your Majesty!”

…

At the Grand Preceptor’s residence, beside the pond in the rear garden.

After leaving court, Li Heyan returned home, standing quietly by the pond, scattering feed and watching the colorful fish dart to and fro. Their lively scramble for food brought him a measure of peace. Just then, his student hurried over, breathless with indignation.

“Grand Preceptor, that Lin Bowen is insufferable! To slander you so openly in court—how infuriating!”

The man was Fang Miao, Minister Fang, Li Heyan’s student and his loyal hound, ever ready to do his master’s bidding—however unsavory.

“Minister Fang, Lin was not entirely wrong. I am old… old indeed! What harm is there in feeding fish and taking walks?”

Li Heyan’s response only made Fang Miao stamp his foot in frustration. “I simply can’t stand him!”

“I should scold you. Why were you so rash in court today? If he wishes to lead the campaign, let him.”

“I…” Fang Miao faltered, at a loss, staring at Li Heyan in confusion. Li Heyan smiled, took a handful of fish food from a small bowl, and handed it to him.

Fang Miao, unlike his master, did not feed the fish patiently, one pellet at a time; instead, he tossed the entire handful into the pond at once.

Li Heyan shook his head and smiled, then extended his palm over the tranquil water, his expression tightening slightly.

Suddenly, there was a sharp crack—the water exploded, and a swift fish was flung onto the bank, its body charred and lifeless. Its organs had been pulverized by that single strike.

With this demonstration, Li Heyan showed by deed that he was not yet old.