Chapter Sixty-three: Su'er’s Family Background

Lu did not produce horses; they either obtained them from Jin or transported them from the northern Yan, but in any case, the number of chariots was limited—just barely enough. It seemed Lu would find it difficult to gather a large number of warhorses, and Meng Di fell into deep thought as he gazed at the map.

He had offended the Zhi clan of Jin; it would not be wise to approach them rashly. The other option was Yan, and the nomadic Shanrong tribes nearby, famed for their fine horses. Yet, between his fief and Yan lay the state of Qi.

Qi had always been powerful. Duke Huan of Qi, Xiao Bai, had allied the feudal lords nine times, striking north against the Shanrong and south against Chu, becoming the first hegemon of the Central Plains and receiving honors from the Zhou king. After Xiao Bai’s death, Qi flourished then declined, plagued by internal strife; the influence of noble ministers grew, they annexed each other’s power, and even began to depose and install their own rulers, weakening the state further.

Though Qi had waned, it still barely regarded Lu. Over a decade ago, it seized Yunyi under the pretext of resolving Lu’s internal turmoil and never returned it. Therefore, acquiring a large number of warhorses presented another dilemma: how to pass through Qi.

“Would you like to see Qi?” Meng Di asked offhandedly, turning to Su’er, who stood nearby holding a candle.

“No.”

Meng Di was taken aback. Su’er rarely spoke of her past, preferring silence; he had only heard from Li that she was from Qi.

“Is there someone you’d rather not meet?” Meng Di tried gently.

Su’er set down the candlestick heavily and turned away.

Ah, Meng Di had struck a nerve. He was puzzled; it was the first time since they had met that he saw Su’er so emotional.

He looked at the map for a while longer, then, unable to let it go, walked to the bedchamber.

No candles were lit inside; in the moonlight he could make out a slender white figure sitting at the bedside, shoulders trembling in silent anguish.

Meng Di approached, gently drew aside the bed curtain, and embraced her delicate shoulder, his hand coming away wet—it was soaked with tears.

Tenderly, he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his sleeve and softly said, “Alright, we won’t go to Qi.”

Su’er rested quietly against his chest, slowly calming herself. After a long while, she raised her head and whispered, “I am of the Tian clan.”

Meng Di knew the Tian clan was a great family in Qi. He spoke kindly: “Your origins matter little; what matters is that now you are my Su’er.”

A blush flitted across Su’er’s cheeks. She bit her lip, hesitated, then said, “I am the daughter of Tian Rangju.”

Tian Rangju! Meng Di was captivated by Su’er’s shy demeanor and nearly kissed her, but the name struck him like thunder and snapped him from his reverie.

“Is it—Sima Rangju?”

Su’er nodded silently.

The name Sima Rangju was legendary. Meng Di had studied the “Sima Law,” written by him, under Li Ling’s tutelage since childhood.

“Though a state be great, if it loves war, it will perish; though the world be at peace, if it forgets war, it will be in peril. Always pursue a fleeing enemy without rest; if they halt on the road, beware.” Passages from the military treatise flashed before his eyes.

Li Ling greatly revered Sima Rangju and often recounted his story.

After Qi’s decline, Jin seized the opportunity to attack Qi’s Acheng and Zhencheng. Yan crossed the river to invade from the north. Qi’s armies suffered repeated defeats, unable to resist, nearly facing the threat of annihilation.

Lord Jing of Qi, Chu Jiu, in desperation, sought any remedy. On the recommendation of High Minister Yan Ying, he appointed Tian Rangju, a collateral branch of the Tian clan who was then fishing by the Eastern Sea, as general.

Though Chu Jiu was usually indulgent, at the critical moment he proved reliable; after meeting Tian Rangju, he boldly dismissed opposition and appointed the little-known commander.

Tian Rangju did not disappoint. First, he executed Chu Jiu’s favored attendant, Zhuang Jia, to establish military authority and swiftly took command of the army.

He lured Jin’s main forces into attacking the city, then launched a surprise attack from inside and out, routed the enemy, pursued them relentlessly, and drove them from Qi’s borders.

The Yan army, having only just crossed the river, hastily retreated upon hearing the news. Tian Rangju turned his forces, riding the momentum of victory, crossed the river in pursuit, and recaptured all lost territory.

Thus, by his own strength, he stemmed the tide, expelled Jin and Yan from Qi, and was thus granted the post of Grand Sima, earning the title Sima Rangju and unprecedented fame.

Qi’s court was rife with intrigue. The Guo and Gao clans long dominated politics; seeing the Tian clan’s rise, they slandered and conspired. Whether pressured or displeased by the execution of his favorite, Chu Jiu seized the opportunity to dismiss Tian Rangju.

In truth, though Tian Rangju belonged to the Tian clan, he was estranged from his kin, obsessed with military strategy, poor at socializing, and somewhat aloof, so no one spoke for him.

Yan Ying, who had recommended him, frequently praised his ability to unite people with his literary talent and intimidate enemies with his martial prowess, but his cautious nature made him wary of the Tian clan’s growing power, so he sided with the Guo and Gao clans.

After Tian Rangju lost his post, he lived in melancholy and soon passed away.

Each time Li Ling told this part, he sighed with regret.

“No, my father was killed by the Guo and Gao clans,” Su’er’s tears fell again. “How could a hero such as my father die in despair?”

“Your father is as much mine. If he was murdered, I will avenge you!”

Su’er rose, bowed gracefully, and said, “With your resolve, I am content. But the Guo and Gao clans are powerful; you must not risk yourself for my sake.”

Meng Di helped her up and chided, “Your matters are mine; never say such things again.”

Su’er lowered her head obediently, her graceful neck like a swan’s, pale and gentle in the moonlight, nearly stirring Meng Di’s desire once more.

But recalling they were discussing his beloved’s late father, he silently cursed his own shamelessness and quickly composed himself to ask about the details.

Tian Rangju was frugal, and even as Grand Sima his household was simple, attended by a single old servant. He spent his days studying military law and teaching his daughter swordsmanship.

Su’er was gifted, especially in swordplay, often learning by analogy; by her teens she surpassed her father. Tian Rangju was both proud and regretful—regretful that had she been a son, she would surely have become a renowned general.

Qi was home to many skilled martial artists; as Su’er grew older, she often sought out others for practice. One day, returning home, she found her father lying on his back upon the bed, his face blackened, the pillow stained with blood he had vomited.

In panic, Su’er knelt by the bedside and called out loudly. Tian Rangju slowly awoke, his breath faint, and instructed her not to ask questions but to leave Qi immediately. He told her that in his youth he had been rescued by the leader of the Li tribe in Yue, whom he had never repaid, and hoped she would fulfill his wish. With that, he passed away.

Su’er, accustomed to her father’s ways, knew he must have been poisoned, but as a child she had no idea who would wish him harm. She sought help from the Tian clan to bury him.

Her father’s last words put her on guard; after the funeral, she secretly left Qi.

“So, there are many doubts surrounding your father’s death. For example, the old servant was not present?”

Su’er was comforted to hear Meng Di call her father “father-in-law,” and gently took his hand. “I was too distraught at the time, but later realized my father was alone in the house.”