Next, the two began discussing military and state affairs.
There were no specific personnel changes, only general discussion, with even a hint of passing the buck. Huan Wen seemed to have lost his earlier enthusiasm and initiative, while Sima Yu clearly had more to say.
Given Sima Yu's disposition, however, this was already quite proactive for him. He could never have learned the other man's habit of chattering on endlessly once he got going.
Off to one side, Liu Cheng stood with his hands at his sides, watching the scene, a strange feeling stirring in his heart.
It was not the idea of calling Gao Heng over, giving each man a stroke of the blade, and seeing what changes that might bring to the world. Probably everyone on this River-Island Sandbar, including Huan Wen and Sima Yu, had been unable to resist such thoughts. That was human instinct.
What truly gave Liu Acheng this subtle feeling was his understanding of politics.
What was politics?
As someone who had transmigrated, someone who had endured a bombardment of information, he could rattle off those familiar sayings: war was the last political resort; personnel was politics; politics meant making as many friends as possible; politics was mutual deception; politics was the human heart...
But today, Huan Wen and Sima Yu had joined forces to teach him a lesson.
This lesson was not about how Huan Wen and Sima Yu had first mastered these principles and then unconsciously expressed them. Rather, as the two sat on mats on a nameless islet in the middle of the river, chatting intermittently about everything from family matters to the Xianbei invasion, a classic specimen of politics had emerged.
Why had Huan Wen wanted to see Sima Yu? Why had Sima Yu wanted to see Huan Wen? What