Chapter Forty-two: The Three Mirrors of the World

"Very well then," the petite young man gently began, his gaze as pure as a small stream trickling down from a snow-capped mountain. "I thank you for saving everyone in the caravan, including myself."

"But," the youth gently asked, "are you also one of the rebel army's men?"

The women had already finished binding Zhu Wen's wounds across his body, and Zhu Wen cast his gaze into the youth's eyes. "Precisely."

"Alliance Leader Wang Xianzhi, many years ago, everyone said he was a great hero. Yet his subordinates are out here committing such acts of murder and plunder."

The youth articulated every word with absolute clarity. "And the Salt Marshal Huang Chao, whom you follow, is the second-in-command of the rebel army. You are all cut from the same cloth."

Initially, when Zhu Wen saw the youth risk his life to protect the others, he had felt a sudden stirring of emotion and stepped forward on an impulse.

He never expected this bookish fellow to utter such bizarre remarks.

"So, what is it you are trying to say?" Zhu Wen asked, his tone laced with annoyance.

"This junior merely feels that since you wish to rob money, plunder grain, and seize women, you ought not to cloak yourselves in the banner of acting on behalf of heaven or bringing about equality. Actions contradicting words do not befit the path of a gentleman."

The youth spoke very softly still, sounding nothing like someone reprimanding Zhu Wen. His expression was dead serious, and as he spoke, his long, slightly sparse eyelashes fluttered gently over his almond-shaped eyes.

By the youth's standards, Zhu Wen certainly could not be considered entirely innocent.

After subduing the Tongshan bandits alongside his second elder brother Zhu Cun, Zhu Wen had indeed allowed them to plunder merchants. The only difference between him and other outlaws was that he spared lives whenever possible and forbade his subordinates from committing rape or assault.

Yet, extortion and kidnapping for ransom were things he had certainly done.

Zhu Wen had long since stopped considering himself a good person.

Even so, the youth's words managed to irritate him considerably.

He had clearly saved the youth's life, yet the youth was uttering such ungrateful and bizarre remarks.

The crucial point was that Zhu Wen had almost lost his own life in the process.

"Do you have any idea how ungrateful and unappreciative your words sound right now?" Zhu Wen said coldly, his gaze lingering on the youth's face.

The members of the caravan could not help but change color, then cast ingratiating glances toward Zhu Wen.

They knew that this young man who had single-handedly killed nearly twenty bandits, including Yan Jingming, was not someone they could afford to cross, even with severe injuries.

"Perhaps," the youth in Confucian robes said, facing Zhu Wen's sharp, blade-like gaze without a shred of cowardice. "But after all, it is the truth. Truth is often unpleasant to the ear."

"You're asking for a beating!" Zhu Wen roared, his palm striking the youth's face with a sharp smack, instantly raising a bruised welt.

The youth's body trembled from the pain, and he pressed his lips together. "This sir, can you only use fists and feet to cover up your guilty conscience when faced with honest words?"

Before his voice had even faded, Zhu Wen, whose lungs felt fit to burst with anger, struck the youth's left cheek with another heavy blow.

This time, the strike was noticeably heavier. The youth was knocked back several steps, tumbling to the ground, his garments instantly soiled with fragments of fallen leaves.

The youth staggered to his feet. Although his voice trembled from the pain, his gaze remained fiercely resolute. "Even if you beat me to death, I will not utter words against my conscience... The imperial court is indeed corrupt, yet you people who call yourselves heroes speak grandly of saving the common people while simultaneously condoning your subordinates in devouring the populace. Such things I cannot stomach!"

"The common people possess their own wisdom and ways of survival; when have they ever needed so-called heroes and saviors?"

Before the words finished, Zhu Wen, fuming with anger, strode heavily forward, grabbed the youth by the collar, and lifted him up.

His clenched fist swung menacingly before the youth's eyes. "Even if I knock out every single tooth in your mouth, will you still talk like this?"

"N—not... wrong..." As the youth spoke, a trickle of blood suddenly welled up, staining the corners of his delicate lips. "The truths of this world cannot be twisted by any amount of power or military might. If you beat me to death today, you will merely have silenced a person who speaks the truth, but the truth itself remains eternal like the sun, moon, and stars."

"You dared to kill Yan Jingming only because you are stronger than he is, because you are the favored favorite of Salt Marshal Huang Chao, and you need not fear retaliation from Alliance Leader Wang Xianzhi—not because you possess any shred of genuine justice."

Zhu Wen looked into the youth's eyes and failed to detect even a trace of fear within them.

This truly was a pure, stubborn bookworm.

Just as Zhu Wen was debating whether to give him another punch, a voice suddenly rang out.

"This sir, please don't hit him anymore. Master Lan may speak foolishly at times, but he truly has a very kind heart."

The speaker was the leader of the caravan, a plump middle-aged man.

"Indeed, Young Master Zhu is a good man; why should a good man make things difficult for another good man?" several women chimed in. "Master Lan is young and not very eloquent, but he is fundamentally kind-hearted and diligent in his work. We have all seen it with our own eyes..."

These pleas took Zhu Wen somewhat by surprise.

Earlier, faced with the terrifying might of Yan Jingming's faction, these very people had intended to beg this same "Master Lan" to sacrifice himself to secure safe passage for the rest of the caravan.

Yet now, they actually dared to plead with him on behalf of "Master Lan."

On second thought, people are always evaluated by comparison. Compared to heinous villains like Yan Jingming, he certainly qualified as a good person.

In the face of absolute violence and evil, ordinary people might appear exceptionally cowardly and selfish.

Yet that was not the constant state of human nature.

At this thought, Zhu Wen suddenly felt a great deal of relief wash over him.

"Kid, for the sake of these elders pleading for you, I'll spare you this once." Zhu Wen let out a breath, as the wounds on his body began to ache once more.

He gently set Master Lan down.

For a moment, the members of the caravan all wore expressions of overwhelming joy.

And those expressions were entirely genuine.

"Take the weapons, belts, and money from Yan Jingming and his men." Zhu Wen swept his gaze across the area, signaling the caravan members to strip the corpses. "Oh, and there are still two who haven't finished breathing; help me give them the final blow."

At these words, a chorus of profuse gratitude rose from the caravan.

Zhu Wen suddenly recalled that when he was in his teens, it was precisely because he loved hearing such sounds that he had set out to practice chivalry, wasn't it?

Yet, such pleasant words could not ultimately be eaten as meals.

Even so, his mood had become exceptionally light and refreshing.

"A chivalrous figure like Young Master Zhu spared you, yet you provoked him so! It's thanks to his magnanimity that he didn't lower himself to your level. Why don't you apologize to him?" A tall man from the caravan scolded the youth.

"An apology is unnecessary." Zhu Wen walked over and suddenly seized the youth's hand. "It seems he is your bookkeeper, yes? I am taking him with me, so this no longer concerns you."

At this declaration, the caravan members were struck dumb with shock.

Having seen Zhu Wen step forward and risk severe injury to eradicate Yan Jingming and his gang, they had concluded that although this young man belonged to the rebel army, he was a true hero, proving that righteous men existed among the rebels and that one should not generalize.

Yet now Zhu Wen was declaring his intent to take Master Lan away. Could it be that he shared the very same inclinations as Yan Jingming?

The youth, whose face still bore several bruised welts from Zhu Wen's blows, maintained a remarkably calm expression and offered no resistance whatsoever when Zhu Wen grasped his small hand.

"What do you want me to do for you?"

"I was thinking that a person sometimes needs to hear things they do not wish to hear," Zhu Wen smiled, though he found that even a gentle smile tugged at his wounds and caused him a sharp pang of pain.

"How does that saying go again?"

"Ah, yes." A look of absolute exhilaration appeared in Zhu Wen's eyes. "Taking copper as a mirror, one can properly adjust one's attire; taking history as a mirror, one can understand the rise and fall of nations; taking people as a mirror, one can discern gains and losses."

"That was what Emperor Taizong, Li Shimin, said regarding Wei Zheng."

"I, Zhu Wen, also require such a mirror."

"Therefore, I have decided that you, this ungrateful little brat, shall act as my Wei Zheng!"

For a moment, all several dozen members of the caravan stood completely slack-jawed, their gazes fixed intently upon Zhu Wen as if they had witnessed something they had never imagined possible in their entire lives.

The Three Mirrors of the Realm.

No subject of the Great Tang was ignorant of this historical allusion.

In the eyes of the common people of the Great Tang, Emperor Taizong was the greatest and most virtuous ruler since the legendary Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors.

And Duke Zheng, Wei Zheng, was the most renowned and famously unyielding remonstrating official in history.

The fateful encounter between that sovereign and his minister forged the legendary allusion of the "Three Mirrors of the Realm" that would echo through the ages.

Yet a young man who looked scarcely older than Master Lan dared to compare himself to Emperor Taizong, Li Shimin?

And yet, the youth's words brimmed with such an unwavering, supreme self-confidence that he felt no sense of impropriety whatsoever.

To everyone's astonishment, the youth nodded earnestly. "Very well, provided your compensation satisfies me."

Zhu Wen could not help but find it slightly amusing. "A gentleman does not speak of profit; are you negotiating compensation?"

"If the advice I offer fails to match the compensation, I shall perform other tasks to make up for it," the youth said with utmost sincerity. "I never take money that exceeds my worth."

"Then it's settled." Zhu Wen released his grip and made a gesture to seal the pact with a slap of their hands.

A smooth palm, slightly smaller than his own, struck lightly against his own, feeling remarkably soft.

"I can no longer work for the caravan, and Suoting offers his sincerest apologies." The youth suddenly bowed low before the caravan members, straightened up slowly, pulled a string of copper coins from his waist, and placed it into the caravan leader's hands. "This is Suoting's breach-of-contract fee."

So "Lan Suoting" was the youth's name.

The caravan leader hastily tried to refuse, but Zhu Wen stepped forward at once, pulling Lan Suoting away by the arm.

He knew that a person as relentlessly earnest as this would never find peace of mind if he left without paying the penalty fee.