Wen Mingju did not report to the Emperor about the Xuanqing Guard wanting to transfer a Deputy Thousand Households. Even though Shen Hao now had a great reputation and was quite useful in the army, to the Emperor, he was merely a minor figure, a small-time act; it was rather a case of making a mountain out of a molehill.
Moreover, though Wen Mingju felt unsettled, he was up against Pang Ban, that hungry wolf. Even though his own status was far elevated from before, he did not dare confront him head-on. Besides, since when did Pang Ban need the Ministry of War’s permission to reassign personnel from Xuanqing Guard? Being informed in advance was already giving the Ministry plenty of face.
Therefore, after considering it thoroughly, Wen Mingju could only sigh, pick up his brush, and personally write a letter to Zuo Yuliang, explaining the situation here. He also warned Zuo Yuliang not to obstruct Shen Hao’s transfer—otherwise, it would easily strain the just-improving relationship between the Military and Xuanqing Guard once more.
It must be said, Wen Mingju’s earnest private letter was sent at just the right time—arriving the day before Xuanqing Guard’s transfer order and the notification to the Southern Border Army.
How did Zuo Yuliang react?
When Zuo Yuliang saw Wen Mingju’s letter, he was furious. "I’m here fighting a war, with thousands dying every day, and you come playing games like kicking the ladder out from under me? Do you have any idea, if it weren’t for that Shen’s suggestions, I’d lose several thousand men daily! You really have the nerve to make me let go of such a talent?!"
Even the jade brush Zuo Yuliang usually loved was accidentally snapped in his grip in a fit of rage, and his temper flared to new heights.
Don’t think that just because Wen Mingju dared not cross Pang Ban, Zuo Yuliang would also yield to him.
You think Pang Ban is so formidable? Yes, he is. But what about Zuo Yuliang? Is he inferior to Pang Ban? Not in the least!
Wen Mingju earned his position as Vice Minister of the Ministry of War by depending on the Emperor, and though nominally Wen Mingju was in charge, in fact, the Emperor held the true reins of the Ministry. So when faced with the court’s "wolves," Wen Mingju lacked the confidence to go head-to-head—he was weak at the core. But Zuo Yuliang was different. His reputation and rank were carved out by his own sword and spear, laying a solid and unshakeable foundation. Now, as Commander of all South-side military affairs, with absolute authority over the army’s deployments, would he really back down from Pang Ban?
In truth, the "Chief of Miscellaneous Affairs" role that Shen Hao held was still a military position. Though it was intended originally as a gesture of goodwill toward Xuanqing Guard, it had become a true position and played a crucial role in the army. And this post was under military jurisdiction! In other words, if Zuo Yuliang did not release Shen Hao, he would have reason to stand his ground.
If Zuo Yuliang refused, what could Pang Ban do? Almost nothing. So what if he was a Profound Sea Realm Cultivator? Was he going to get pushy in the army? If Pang Ban really dared stir up trouble in the military, Zuo Yuliang would not hesitate to have him killed on the spot.
But after his anger passed, Zuo Yuliang picked up the Copper Rod that he’d just thrown to the floor, then read it once more, this time with care. For no other reason than that the letter was from Wen Mingju—a Vice Minister who might lack seniority and skill, but who was by far the most adept at gauging the Emperor’s intentions within the Ministry of War. In other words, if Wen Mingju advised letting Shen Hao go, the Emperor likely approved as well. At such a sensitive time, making an ugly scene would do no good.
Furthermore, the post of Chief of Miscellaneous Affairs had already reached its natural limit. By now, Shen Hao’s strategies had been thoroughly implemented by Chen Zifang, with excellent results. And Shen Hao himself had openly stated that he had no further ideas to offer on the matter.
Given all that, releasing him wasn’t out of the question—just hard to stomach.
The day after Wen Mingju’s private letter arrived, so did Xuanqing Guard’s transfer order. Even with advanced notice, when Zuo Yuliang saw the brusque tone of the transfer, he couldn’t help but give a cold snort.
But dissatisfaction aside, Zuo Yuliang as Commander of the Southern Border Army knew better than to lose his poise. So, when Shen Hao came to bid farewell, there wasn’t a hint of displeasure on Zuo Yuliang’s face. He even wore a warm smile as he extended another invitation to Shen Hao, parting with just the right degree of reluctance—enough to show sentiment, but not maudlin. What mattered was that Shen Hao felt the warmth and sincerity of the Southern Border Army.
In the end, Zuo Yuliang said, "In the army, a day of sharing life and death makes brothers for life. From now on, wherever and whenever, Lord Shen will always be a brother of my Southern Border Army!"
"Thank you for your praise, Commander! To be counted among the Southern Border Army is the greatest honor of my life!"
Everyone knows how to say polite words, yes? But Shen Hao’s remark about "honor" was not mere platitude—at least sixty percent of it was from the heart.
Unless you’ve fought on the battlefield, unless you’ve seen soldiers stake their lives slaughtering the enemy, unless you’ve seen what it means to be surrounded by corpses, you’ll never truly understand how the Jingjiu Dynasty has earned its strength, nor how weighty those three words really are.
Zuo Yuliang’s words about "brothers for life after one day of shared peril" might sound sentimental, but Shen Hao knew that for many soldiers, these were words branded in their very bones.
There are cowards in the army, scoundrels, shameless men—and of course, there are good men too. But now, to Shen Hao, they were all warriors, and he felt honored to call the warriors his brothers.
As for Zuo Yuliang, Shen Hao did truly consider him a remarkable military leader. Out of respect, Shen Hao—for the first time—gave Zuo Yuliang a deep bow at their parting before leaving the command tent.
Not many came out to see him off—not a sign of cooling relationships, but because strict military discipline reigned and the situation at the front was urgent. Plus, Shen Hao’s close connections weren’t at Wu Lake; aside from Chen Zifang and a few subordinates from the Inspectorate, few escorted him. Similarly, only some of his remaining Personal Guard accompanied Shen Hao away.
As for who would replace Shen Hao, there was still no word. The transfer order required Shen Hao to return immediately; his successor would follow. The implication being, another would be dispatched to take his place, which disappointed Li Jiang and Zhang Ye—they had hoped one of their own would be promoted on the spot.
After bidding farewell, Shen Hao spurred his horse onwards. From Wu Lake to Zhuo Huo Pass was still a long way. En route, messages from Xuanqing Guard arrived in succession, and by the time Shen Hao reached the Bamboo Path, he’d basically figured out the reason for his sudden recall.
To investigate a case! And not just any case—the shocking assassination of Prince Qian!
Though details of the case were confidential, both the Ministry of Justice Major Case Department and Xuanqing Guard seemed at a loss. The case appeared unsolvable. Their only hope was that Shen Hao might find some clue; key information was sent to him as he hurried back.
"A peaceful expression at death? No external or internal injuries, no sign of poisoning? Suspected soul-related means? This is unheard-of, quite interesting."