"Never mind how the war faction has gained the upper hand for now with all their talk of propriety and the greater good. They have one fatal weakness!"
Wang Yang suddenly lowered his voice and looked mysteriously at the young barbarian. "Can you guess what it is, young chieftain?"
Listening with rapt attention, the young man shook his head, a little nervous.
A sharp gleam flashed in Wang Yang's eyes. The corners of his mouth curved into something between a smile and a smirk, and he drew out his words, letting his voice slowly ripple outward:
"They..."
At this point, his expression turned solemn, and he delivered three words with ringing conviction:
"Lack rightful standing!"
The young barbarian listened in bewilderment, then nodded.
"I know this saying. Confucius said it. Confucius said: if names are not rightful, words are not proper; if words are not proper, then, then... er..."
"Then affairs cannot succeed."
"Indeed, indeed! Affairs cannot succeed!"
"So their plans cannot succeed!" Wang Yang declared.
The young barbarian sucked in a cold breath and leaned forward. "Cannot succeed?"
"Cannot succeed! The war faction wants war, but they don't have sufficient grounds! Think about it. You abducted Liu Cheng, but you didn't kill him, or chop off his arms or legs-you didn't, did you?"
"Of course not! We never even touched him!"
A few beatings didn't count as touching him, did they? He hadn't lost any teeth. The young barbarian thought this silently.
"Exactly! You handled this rather cleverly. You didn't take his life, so there's still room to maneuver! Our peace faction said, 'They haven't harmed the gentry, nor have they burned, killed, or plundered. You want to attack them just for abducting one man? Then let me ask you: suppose another tribe crosses the border, abducts people, harms