Long ago, Liu Bei visited the thatched hut three times, and the counsel at Longzhong determined the realm's division into three.
Wang Jinglüe spoke while picking lice from his clothes, as though no one else were present, encompassing the affairs of all under heaven.
Those meetings of ruler and minister, remembered through the ages, had all taken place within a single room, across a single table.
Today, the Hall of Literary Splendor held that very scene.
Crown Prince Jiang Heng personally poured a cup of tea and pushed it toward the man opposite him. "Zi'an, where is your strategy?"
Wei Nisheng took a scroll from his sleeve and presented it with both hands.
"My Pacify the Rong Strategy, Your Highness. Please review it."
The Crown Prince accepted it, unrolled it, and said nothing.
He studied it closely, reading silently, his brows now knitting slightly, now relaxing.
Only after reaching the final page did he roll it up. For a long while, he offered nothing but a deep sigh.
"Master." Jiang Heng's tone was solemn, his voice wavering slightly.
"I have read this strategy three times, and still cannot put it down."
"Your arguments are not merely those of a military strategist. They concern all under heaven," he said.
"Reading your strategy is like hearing Marquis Wu's counsel at Longzhong on dividing the realm in three, or Wang Meng's discourse on the world as he picked lice."
"Zi'an, you are my Kongming, my Wang Meng!"
Wei Nisheng rose and bowed his head. "Your Highness praises me too highly."
"How could I dare compare myself to Marquis Zhuge or Wang Jinglüe?"
"Those two were talents for the ages... I could never deserve such praise!"
"Zi'an." Jiang Heng held his sleeve. "Sit first. I have not finished."
"Your Highness, this..." Wei Zi