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Different resources held, different decision-making power, naturally lead to different outcomes.
This is what is meant by "where one sits determines where one stands."
Take piracy as an example. Ordinary people generally want to save money. Though they might proudly claim something like, "What a trash book? I wouldn't spend a cent to read it," in reality, they are contributing traffic to pirate websites and have to endure those pop-up ads and malware...
Big-name authors aren't afraid of piracy, because they no longer rely on subscription revenue. They've set up studios where everything from outlines to details are "finely tuned for theatrical adaptation." Producing thirty to fifty thousand words a day isn't a problem. These people largely rely on selling intellectual property rights to make money...
The operators are great, correct, selflessly dedicated, and full of righteousness... skip ahead...
Thus, only ordinary writers fear piracy the most, yet they are also the most helpless. The more effort they put into their writing, the easier it is to cross the line. And under rampant piracy, they naturally have fewer subscriptions and thus no profit. Consequently, more and more shallow, wish-fulfillment power fantasies will appear. After all, those texts require little thought. The cost of stacking clichés is low: start low-key, then suffer humiliation, then shock everyone, then deal with the aftermath. Then introduce another person, encounter another event, say more or less the same things, eagerly offer up their face for slapping, change positions, and do it all over again...
Now, Wei Ji was like someone who had just been through it once, then rearranged himself into another position to go through it again...
Whose fault was it that the Wei clan now faced such a situation?
It certainly wasn't my fault. That's basically what everyone thought. That's why Wang Yi's two different treaties achieved maximum destructive power.
Morality is the tenderest young maiden, dragged out at any time and arranged into a hundred and eight poses by greed and desire. After enough development, morality becomes nothing but fully see-through lingerie—having it on makes no difference.
When suddenly struck by an unexpected event, the most direct reaction reveals that what one always thought was covered has actually been exposed all along.
Standing in one's own position, sitting in one's own seat, one naturally isn't wrong. The mistakes are others'. From primitive society onward, humanity has had class divisions. This isn't determined by thought but by human nature itself. Thus, once a person gains self-awareness and the ability to judge, they must take responsibility for their own actions.
The group of Wei clan elders felt that in this current matter, Wei Ji needed to take responsibility himself. Every single wuzhu coin of the Wei clan was precious. Why should they fill the pit for that young man?
Better that a fellow traveler die...
People can possess many kinds of emotions and engage in many behaviors, naturally divided into those that can be controlled and those that cannot. Successful people often do more of those things they can control. As for failures, sometimes it seems they've done more of those things they cannot control.
Thus, Wei Ji's failure was inevitable after all the elders in Linfen fluttered away.
This act was undoubtedly the final straw, completely destroying Wei Ji's hopes and taking away his last chance to fight.
Wei Ji had taken things for granted, so he sat securely in Linfen, never imagining the shifting winds and clouds at the front lines, realizing he had completely lost control...
Wei Ji had hesitated. So after learning of the defeat, he didn't immediately take the desperate, life-risking measures, but instead chose the safer, more guaranteed option of surrender...
Wei Ji had also been soft-hearted. So when the treaties arrived, he couldn't immediately control the elders, resulting in the Wei clan now being a scattered heap of sand, unable to coalesce...
And now, even if he wanted to do something, it was already too late.
It was also over.
Wei Ji was like a flower blooming in a greenhouse—delicate and beautiful, but having weathered few storms. The first time he tried to welcome the wind and rain, he was battered by them.
Was Wei Ji unintelligent? No. In his youth, Wei Ji was renowned for his talent and learning, widely known for his extensive knowledge of history and literature.
However, a good strategist does not necessarily make a good leader. A strategist is generally only responsible for planning, not for the specific implementation of projects, nor does he much consider the detailed execution.
As a strategist, when Wei Ji initially began planning the overall scheme, there were no major problems. The overall plan was fairly comprehensive, with all aspects considered.
But...
Regardless of the plan, when it comes time for actual implementation, deviations of one sort or another always occur. Thus, during the ongoing execution, some problems arose here, some difficulties there. Yet Wei Ji failed to make timely adjustments, leading to the entire strategy ultimately coming to nothing.
Through the night, Wei Ji had indeed thought a great deal. Unfortunately, he thought too much.
It wasn't until this morning, after seeing his uncle, that Wei Ji vaguely realized that due to this blow, he might no longer be as confident and proud as before...
Otherwise, he wouldn't have waited to consult his uncle before making a decision. He should have acted directly the night before.
But now, it was too late.
It was also over.
Was Wei Ji at fault?
Was it wrong to want to elevate the family to a higher level?
Were the elders at fault?
Was it wrong to choose to preserve more of the family's wealth?
Then whose fault was it?
Wei Ji watched the peach blossoms fluttering down before the hall, watched the petals slowly fall to the ground, stained with mud and dust. His heart gradually felt like those petals, beginning to be soaked through by muddy water.
After an unknown amount of time, Wei Ji sighed softly. "I wish to go serve Yuan Benchu..."
Though the words were few, they were filled with deep weariness. This was the best choice Wei Ji could make, based on his current judgment.
The general trend of the empire was polarized between two forces: one was Dong, the other was Yuan.
Wei Ji personally did not favor or identify with Dong Zhuo, including his background and actions. Originally, he had wanted to use the struggle between Yuan and Dong to secure greater benefits. But now, only one choice remained.
The reason he chose Yuan Benchu, the model of the empire, was that compared to Yuan Gonglu, first, the road was somewhat easier, and second, Benchu's reputation was currently higher.
Originally, Wei Ji had intended to use this campaign in the north to gain higher status, so that others would come to attach themselves to him. Now, however, he could only go and attach himself to others, relying on the Yuan family name to survive. It was impossible not to feel this as a huge reversal, like having a thorny bush forcibly stuffed into his heart, causing indescribable pain.
But without external forces to suppress the reaching hands of the other Wei clan collateral branches against his own branch, then his branch, having lost enormous financial and material resources and lacking the strength to resist, would be at the mercy of others...
The Wei clan had done this sort of thing to other scholar-official families, and of course, they hadn't spared their own family members either. Taking advantage of a family's total extinction had always been customary. The strong preying on the weak was simply the natural order.
Going to Yuan Shao, at least he could obtain some official position, at least maintain some semblance of status for Wei Ji's branch.
Wei Ji's uncle was silent for a long time. "Boyu, under General of Chariots and Cavalry Yuan, talent gathers—the finest of Yu and Ji, all in his pocket. You may not necessarily stand out."
Wei Ji's originally handsome features were somewhat weary, his brow slightly furrowed, a hint of worry showing between his brows, as if a layer of dust had fallen on his white robes, impossible to brush away completely. "What other path is there?"
The two fell silent again.
Wei Ji's uncle spoke, his voice hoarse. "Boyu, your uncle is useless... I have ruined this great matter..." By the end, his voice was completely raspy, and two murky tears rolled from the corners of his eyes...
Wei Ji shook his head. "Previously, Ji underestimated the people of this world. This defeat is not entirely a bad thing. Uncle need not worry excessively. It's just... after Ji leaves home, my father's health... I ask that Uncle look after him."
Wei Ji's uncle sobbed uncontrollably, nodding repeatedly.
Wei Ji suddenly tapped the table lightly, lifted his chin, and raised his head, like a wounded skylark—though in pain, still singing, though hurt, unwilling to shed tears:
"Those little doves in flight,
Soar up into the sky....