Chapter 58: Ink Surging Across Mountains and Rivers

The bronze gears of the Yecheng subterranean palace suddenly jammed, and Zhang He's torch cast a flickering light on a bloody handprint upon the wall. The deputy general, trembling, pointed toward the depths of the tunnel: "General! Those surrendered soldiers... they triggered the mechanism while hauling parts of the seed-drill!" Before his voice could fade, a three-thousand-jin iron gate crashed down, trapping everyone before the relief carvings of the *Classic of Agricultural Implements of the Nine Provinces*.

"Do not touch the millet-ear patterns on the wall!" Zhang He's scabbard suddenly barred the path of a soldier about to stroke the relief. "This is the Mohist interlocking lock." He unfastened his armor to reveal a tattoo across his chest—it was identical to the plowshare pattern on the relief. When he pressed his fingertip against a specific grain of millet, the gate abruptly rose, revealing eight characters pieced together from bronze fragments across the floor: "The people are heaven, food is the bedrock."

In the morning light of the South Palace in Luoyang, Liu Xie was examining a newly forged crooked-shaft plow. Jia Xu tapped the plowshare with a silver spoon, and the hollow ring startled the pigeons roosting beneath the eaves: "The ore from Wenshan is mixed with thirty percent bronze; even the sound carries the lingering charm of the Mohist school."

"Wenhe has misheard." Liu Xie suddenly dipped the plowshare into a medicinal broth, and the stripping of the copper rust revealed the *Decree on Agriculture* deeply engraved on the inner wall. Sun Ru happened to lift the curtain at that moment, the plum hairpin in her hair still wet with the morning dew of Yecheng: "Zhang He discovered a Mohist granary in the subterranean palace, and the stored millet remains uncorrupted."

"A truth the Mohists understood centuries ago—how is it that even now, so many in this realm still fail to grasp it?" The youthful emperor turned his head, JiaXu's reflection caught in his eyes.

Liu Xie's fingertips brushed across the bamboo slip bearing the words "Stale millet can save the living," and he suddenly burst into a fit of coughing. A drop of blood spattered the bamboo slips, reacting with the ink to reveal dark red patterns—none other than a holographic map of the Yecheng subterranean palace. "Have Zilong lead the White Horse Cavalry to transport the grain." He dipped his finger in blood to trace the secret passage on the map. "Tell the people this is the grace left behind by Emperor Guangwu."

Outside Hulao Pass, in Yuan Shao's main camp, Xu You was prying open a moldy grain sack with the tip of his knife. Maggots rolled onto the *Jingyuan Book of Agriculture*, devouring the phrase "Store grain extensively" until nothing remained. "My lord, the soldiers have already begun boiling their armor to stave off hunger..." His advice was cut short by Yuan Shao's roar.

"Boil them! Melt down that Mohist junk as well!" Yuan Shao's golden helmet crashed onto the sand table, and the model of Yecheng shattered into pieces. A sudden commotion arose outside the tent as a personal guard rushed in clutching a bronze box: "Luoyang... Luoyang fired this from a catapult!"

Inside the box lay neat rows of wheat cakes, their fragrance blending with the scent of medicine. The moment Xu You's silver needle touched the crust, the tip instantly turned pitch black: "Poison!" Yet Yuan Shao grabbed a wheat cake and laughed wildly: "Does the boy Liu Xie know only such petty tricks?" He violently hurled the cake at the guard, and the instant it struck the man's throat, his skin broke out in brown patches resembling sun-scorched earth from farming.

By the riverbank in Yizhou, beside the execution ground, Liu Jian's sword tip pried open the death row prisoner's collar. The skin beneath the Vermilion Bird tattoo was covered in sulfur burns: "Yang Xiu said before he died that the Mohist treasures could alter mountains and rivers?"

"Why does the young master ask when he already knows the answer?" The prisoner suddenly bit the tip of his tongue, spraying a mist of blood toward the *Strategy of Non-Offense*. The bamboo slips appeared clearly upon contact with blood, revealing themselves to be a map of the diversion of the Han River. Sun Ru's dagger pinned the slips down just in time: "He is buying time! There is more at the bottom of the river..."

A deafening roar echoed from the center of the river as a centuries-old embankment collapsed violently. Liu Jian saw a colossal bronze beast emerge from the turbid waters, its mouth—shaped like a seed-drill—spewing billowing black oil. "It's a Mohist earth-dragon cart!" Sun Ru's iron chain wrapped tightly around the mast. "Evacuate the people, quickly!"

Before the granary in Yecheng, Zhao Yun gazed at the array of bronze seed-drills automatically unloading cargo. The surrendered soldiers knelt to stroke the "Jingyuan" inscriptions on the cart shafts, and suddenly an old veteran sobbed uncontrollably: "These patterns... these patterns are identical to the plowshare passed down in my family!"

"They were of the same origin all along." Zhang He unbuckled his sword and thrust it into the axle; the whir of the mechanism startled the flocking birds. "In order to escape the First Emperor of Qin, the Mohist artisans carved their secret techniques onto agricultural tools to be passed down through generations." He abruptly dropped to one knee, cupping his fists toward the direction of Luoyang: "His Majesty stops war with war, turning swords into plowshares—this is truly the way of the Mohists!"

The floor of the South Palace's warm chamber suddenly quaked, and the eleventh petal fell from the green calyx plum. Liu Xie steadied the armillary sphere, watching the diversion of the Han River on the sand table: "Where is Lady Sun?"

"She is currently wrestling with the earth-dragon cart at the bottom of the river." Jia Xu's medicinal spoon pointed toward the rapidly shifting star chart. "Gan Ning's naval force has intercepted the black oil, but Yang Xiu's remaining faction has lit the fuse." His cough was abruptly swallowed by a peal of thunder, and ten shooting stars streaked across the sky outside—coming precisely from the direction of Hulao Pass.

Liu Xie suddenly slashed his palm, staining the armillary sphere with blood: "Transmit my decree: open the sluice gates of the Luo River!" The grinding of gears was deafening as the Han River on the sand table abruptly changed course, flushing the earth-dragon cart into a pre-arranged flood-relief channel. The burning black oil congealed the moment it touched the water, spelling out the two characters "Jingyuan" across the river's surface.

Amidst the fires of the Yizhou execution ground, Sun Ru stood in a standoff with the earth-dragon cart. The sound of the machinery resembled ten thousand galloping horses, and the fire-snakes spewing from the bronze beast's jaws had already ignited the reeds along the banks. "Young master, take the people to the mountains!" Her iron chain wrapped around the beast's horns, and she leveraged the momentum to leap atop the cart. The moment she plunged her gilded dagger into the ventilation vent, she caught a glimpse of a line of small characters carved on the inner wall: "Universal love and non-offense; sharp tools bring abundance to the people."

A sound like a dragon's roar echoed from the river as the sluice gates opened, and the floodwaters of the Luo River rushed forward, laden with shards of ice. The earth-dragon cart tilted in the churning current, and Sun Ru seized the opportunity to pull out the core gear. Deprived of its power, the bronze beast slowly sank into the river, revealing crates of genuine *Mohist Classics* within its cabin—each flyleaf stamped with Empress Yin's phoenix pattern.

Outside Hulao Pass, Yuan Shao watched his routing vanguard as the golden sword in his hand began to rust. "My lord, look!" Xu You suddenly pointed toward the sky. Out from the burning meteor shower burst a bronze storied warship, upon whose prow stood Gan Ning holding a megaphone: "Yuan Benchu! His Majesty asks if you know why agricultural tools are forged with blood-groves?"

Yuan Shao's wild laughter cut off instantly. He watched as the surrendered soldiers charged holding their farming implements in reverse, the blood-groves of the plowshares hooking into the seams of the black armor, proving far sharper than swords or sabers. When a crooked-shaft plow pierced his abdominal armor, he finally understood the true meaning behind Liu Xie's words about "the sharp implements of the people"—the "Jingyuan" inscription on the plow's tip was dripping with his own heart's blood.

In the plow-foundry outside the city of Luoyang, Jia Xu watched the final ladle of molten iron pour into the clay molds. On the newly cast plowshare, the Mohist runes and the imperial decree shone in brilliant harmony. An old blacksmith suddenly burst into a resonant rendition of the *Song of Striking the Earth*, and the answering voices of tens of thousands of commoners brought down the remaining walls of Hulao Pass. The wave of sound reached the South Palace just as Liu Xie was pressing the earth-dragon cart's gear into the missing slot of the armillary sphere.

"Your Majesty, a report from Yecheng." Sun Ru rushed in, travel-worn, the *Mohist Classics* in her hands still dripping with river water. "Zhang He found this beneath the foundations of the granary." When the silk cloth was unfurled, the pattern of the Mohist giant's command token matched the bloodstain on Liu Xie's palm with absolute perfection.

Thunder swept across the branches of the green calyx plum, and the twelfth blossom burst open amidst the drifting smoke of gunpowder. Liu Xie suddenly coughed up a mouthful of dark blood, and upon the crimson-stained silk, the ultimate schematic of the mechanism emerged—the Great Wall of ten thousand li was actually pieced together from farming implements, with every single mortise and tenon carved with the characters "Jingyuan."