The Prime Ministerial Talent, Xun Yu

The figure of five million children between the ages of zero and five in the State of Yan, according to the population census of 190, might strike modern eyes as an abnormal statistic. And indeed, by the standards of this era, it was abnormal for twenty-five percent of any nation’s population to consist of children in that age bracket. Yet the unique conditions of the time had to be taken into account.

In an age without contraceptives, pregnancy was a natural consequence for any married woman. As the existence of first-birthday parties, hundred-day celebrations, and sixtieth-birthday banquets showed, this was a period of high birth rates—but also of crushing infant mortality. Even setting that mortality aside, average human lifespans were short. In a world where people over sixty were rare, the proportion of women of childbearing age within the total population was naturally high.

The agricultural society of this era, still far from any Malthusian trap, viewed having many children as a direct increase in the amount of land a family could cultivate. More land meant a slightly higher station in life. For women to bear many children, therefore, was not strange at all. At the same time, historical records consistently showed that Gongsun Zan despised filth. When the supreme ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ruler’s personal tastes spread throughout the lives of the common people, it was hardly unusual.

Washing the body once every day or two was, by the standards of the time, an extravagant luxury. Clean water north of the Yellow River was difficult to obtain even by modern measures, and most of Yan’s territory—outside of Liaodong—still suffered from chronic water shortages even today. Had there been no fear of “the Duke whose sorcery reaches heaven,” such a luxurious custom would never have taken root.

Records also revealed a dual nature: Gongsun Zan was generally a mild and benevolent ruler who cared for the people, yet he inflicted cruel punishments on those who committed crimes or plotted treason. The mysterious penalty known as “divine punishment,” whose exact nature remained unclear even in modern times, had instilled genuine terror in the populace of his day. Quite apart from their fear of the Duke himself, water was still a precious resource; most households therefore preferred public bathhouses over drawing and heating their own. It was around this time that merchants from Rome, whose trade with Yan was growing vigorous, introduced the culture of heat baths and steam rooms.

Of course, given the water scarcity, these were not the wet Roman-style saunas but something closer to dry saunas—sweating out dust in charcoal kilns, then rinsing away only the remaining oils and perspiration in the bath. Still, an environment in which people could actually wash themselves had been established. Overall hygiene improved, infant mortality declined in tandem, and with that decline the population began to explode.

Xun Yu was someone I knew as well. I had never heard his courtesy name—Xun Wenruo—paired with the surname, but the name Xun Yu itself was familiar. Thanks to a meme that had once swept certain websites, he was known as the primitive ancient glass cannon who supposedly dropped dead after receiving an empty lunchbox in a gacha pull. Even someone like me, who had never been particularly interested in this era, knew those two characters.

He was the younger brother of Xun Shen, who had served as an aide to the traitor Yuan Shao, and the nephew of Xun You, Cao Cao’s strategist. He had married young and was already the father of three children. Like Liu Ziahui, the governor of Laling who had been absorbed into my administration while serving Han Fu, he was another scholar-official who had entered my service. Yet unlike that overworked woman who stubbornly clung to her duties even after tumbling into hell, Xun Yu gave the impression that a single misstep might cause him to die of sudden stress.

I had read online that the reason the man had received that empty lunchbox was because he opposed Cao Cao’s elevation to Duke of Wei. Since I had already become Duke of Yan, I wasn’t sure how that precedent applied… Hmm. He was the sort of person who might drop dead the moment I said the wrong thing. Originally I had planned to tell him not to burden himself with unnecessary stress and to live comfortably, but I worried he might interpret it as “Ah! The Duke of Yan no longer has any use for me, so he’s telling me to go home and look after my children! What is there left to live for?” So I simply left him alone to do as he pleased.

Nevertheless, on the recommendation of those around him, Xun Yu had rocketed up the ranks all the way to Chancellor. He faithfully assisted me in areas of detailed statecraft that I knew nothing about, and he was the man capable of adapting my vague notions of a modern five-year plan to the actual conditions of Yan. Yet he was also the sort of person who might drop dead if I said the wrong thing even once.

“Your Grace, do you truly believe the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Confucian scholars will accept these apprentice positions?”

“Is there a problem?”

“The reason the scholars have avoided official posts is that their abilities do not reach the positions they desire. Even if we offer them the post of low-level clerk, they may consider it far too humble and refuse.”

“I myself began my career as a low-level clerk, you know.”

“Ah… well… that is…”

“Ahem. Never mind. It is possible. Discuss it thoroughly with the people at the Yan Research Institute and refine the idea. It is still only a concept; actual implementation will require revisions.”

“Understood. If you are in urgent need of capable administrators… may I summon promising individuals from Yuzhou?”

“Do as you see fit. However, even those who come recommended will have their ability and character examined, and like you, they must bring their entire families to live on Yan soil.”

It was true that we desperately needed sharp minds right now, yet the reality was that it remained difficult to entrust official posts immediately to people from provinces other than You and Ji. The Research Institute was an exception, filled with eccentrics gathered from all twelve provinces of the Han Empire, but even they had undergone ideological vetting and relocated their whole families to Yan territory. Since the four-power structure among the regional warlords had only been established a few years earlier, scholars were still frequently changing their regional allegiances in search of a worthy lord. Naturally, we could not rule out the possibility that industrial spies lurked among them.

“All the heroes of the realm are already gathered in Yan. If you would only summon my friends as well, they will gladly answer. As the Confucian saying goes, a gentleman does not seek a lord; he waits for a worthy lord to seek him.”

“Suit yourself. By the way, is the workload manageable? Is there anywhere you feel strained?”

“Thanks to Your Grace’s concern, each day passes in peace.”

“…If anything troubles you, speak without reservation. I will help to the extent that I am able.”

If he had stayed with Cao Cao it might have been different, but since he had somehow rolled into my camp and become an official, the least I could do was provide some mental care. If the man wrote my name in his will and then suddenly died… I didn’t even want to think about it. It would probably leave quite a scratch on my own mental state. I had handled the mental management of problem soldiers several times back when I was a company commander, and the proto-glass-cannon before me still looked mentally healthy enough for now.

“Ah, I heard that Minister Wang has requested military rations.”

“I refused the request. Would it have been better to accept?”

“No. Had you accepted, I would have urged you to reject it at once.”

“Weren’t you part of the Clean Stream faction? Considering Minister Wang’s cause, I would have thought you’d want to support him.”

“…Were you not also classified as part of the Clean Stream faction, Your Grace?”

“I’ve always been closer to Mozi than to Confucius, so I have nothing to do with that little game of clean currents and muddy currents.”

“My reason is similar. The Han Dynasty made Confucianism its state doctrine, and its limits have become clear. Minister Wang is still digging in the earth looking for ancient classics while the Han itself crumbles around him. Repairing the collapsing dynasty has been pushed to the back burner.”

“It almost sounds as if you’re saying we should not deal with Dong Zhuo’s remnants.”

“I cannot say how it sounds to you, but rather than chasing Li Jue’s Liangzhou army immediately, I judged that we should first build defensive lines so they cannot cross Hangu Pass and focus on stabilizing the chaos in the Central Plains. That comes first.”

“Hmm… And how do you intend to capture Hangu Pass?”

“Is there any need to capture it? No matter how vast the Guanzhong Plain may be, the land is already exhausted. It is barely enough to feed the people of both Liang and Yong provinces. If we allow the chaos to continue and launch small-scale raids every spring and autumn so they cannot concentrate on farming, the region will collapse from within. Should that still prove insufficient, we can always deploy a navy along the Yellow River.”

“Your words are truly correct. The world says you possess the talent to sit beside the king, and it seems that assessment is also correct.”

Honestly, part of me desperately wanted to call him “Prime Ministerial Talent” the way people once called others “erection possible” or “possibility of success,” but considering that glass-cannon vitality of his, I found it hard to crack such jokes. Better to simply offer praise.

“You flatter me. The way of Confucius is to wait for a gentleman to recognize one’s worth, but the way of Mozi is to demonstrate one’s ability to that gentleman. Even if this body should shatter, I will exhaust every ounce of my strength in loyal service to both Yan and Han.”

“Take it easy. Once His Majesty the Emperor comes of age, the age of chaos will naturally come to an end. Time is on our side.”

What Gongsun Zan did not know was that Xun Yu was not a man of such fragile resolve. In the original history, it had been Xun Yu who devised the scheme to make Emperor Xian a puppet under the pretense of supporting the Son of Heaven. He had voiced no strong opposition even to Cao Cao’s massacre in Xu Province, and he had possessed the fortitude to risk his life to block Cao Cao’s elevation to Duke of Wei right before the unification of the realm. Of course, without real military authority and with only high civil rank, Xun Yu eventually realized that Cao Cao’s heart had drifted away and that the ideal of protecting the Han no longer existed; he had then died of illness. Yet under Gongsun Zan—who had no intention of twisting the spirit of the Han era—Xun Yu was hardly the sort of glass cannon who would take his own life simply because the work was a little hard.

Personally, Xun Yu found it puzzling why Gongsun Zan treated him like a fragile glass marble, but a ruler who cared for his subordinates was a virtue, not a flaw. He simply accepted it with the thought that what was good was good.

“Hmm… who would be worth calling…”

At Cao Cao’s request, he had already introduced Xi Zhicai and his own nephew Xun You. Some of his connections had heard rumors about the Research Institute and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠headed for Yan even before he could recommend them. A few had gone to Yuan Shu in Jing Province, and others ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had answered the calls of Tao Qian and Gong Rong. Yet Xun Yu’s network could not possibly end with merely those few. After a moment’s thought, he began writing letters to friends scattered across the Central Plains.

Xun Yu was a Confucian scholar, but he was no rigid fundamentalist. If the five-hundred-year history of the Han could be preserved, he was the kind of radical who could lightly change political ideology and then design a political system suited to that new ideology.

“This should be enough to put out the immediate fire. And low-level clerks… heh! Even His Grace began his official career as a low-level clerk. Who are these fellows to refuse?”

The lamp flame flickered to life, and the brush danced without pause. The hour when he would normally have fallen asleep had long passed, yet the vision of a new Han slowly taking shape inside his mind was more than enough to drive away fatigue.