Whispers of Chaos and the Encounter with Jojo
As we continued to linger in Yanzhou Chenliu Commandery, rumors sweeping across the land began to reach our ears. Even the smallest facts ballooned with embellishments as they passed from mouth to mouth. "The Yellow Turbans defeated the imperial forces somewhere." "A Yellow Turban band was massacred over there." "The garrison troops stationed in one place marched off, and the Yellow Turbans fled at the sight." And so on. Just sitting in the marketplace for an hour let you hear news from Yuzhou to Jingzhou. Of course, nonsense like "In Yuzhou, volunteers drove off the Yellow Turbans' ghosts with pig's blood" was mixed in, so you had to sift through it carefully.
"Is that really true?"
The news from our caravan, which had returned home ahead of us, was grim. They'd been ambushed by Yellow Turbans about a hundred li east of here. Confirmation from the survivors, who had barely escaped the inferno, revealed that less than half had made it out alive.
"We're trying to take them in, but where are they?"
To expand our caravan, I took in some of the survivors who seemed useful. Of course, to other caravans, I claimed it was out of compassion I couldn't ignore. Thanks to that, no one pointed fingers saying we were looting the ruins next door.
A month after settling in Chenliu, a massive rumor hit the city. "Some of the Yellow Turbans who seized Nanyang Commandery have pushed up to Yingchuan." Word was that Yellow Turbans from Jingzhou's Nanyang had advanced into Yuzhou Yingchuan and set up camp. The rumor took clearer shape, and its source drew ever closer. People who heard it stamped their feet in panic, wondering what to do.
Fleeing isn't something you do just because you want to.
Heading out now meant surviving on your own in the open wilderness. There was no guarantee you'd escape famine or bandits on the road. But staying in the city and getting besieged meant dying without a fight. Whether plundered by thieves or starving as supplies ran dry inside the walls, it amounted to the same end.
I sent my servants to fan the flames of the boiling anxiety until it erupted. The method was simple: head to the marketplace and drop a few words urging flight.
"The Yellow Turbans are camped in Yingchuan—they'll surely come to Chenliu next, relying on their numbers!"
"Let's flee the Yellow Turbans first! Better to do something than sit here and die!"
Pouring oil on the fire turned the wavering crowd resolute, one by one. Everyone except a few who couldn't leave even if it killed them began preparing to evacuate. The officials and garrison troops guarding the city didn't stop them. They figured it was better to let people go and ease the food burden.
With preparations complete, the refugees set off toward the wilds in a desperate bid for survival.
"At least buy a handful of millet before we go!"
"Trade this silver ring for two hop of rice!"
Thanks to that, prices for houses, land, and luxuries no one could carry plummeted to rock bottom, while food and essentials skyrocketed. I scooped up what others discarded and sold what they craved, pocketing hefty profits. I focused especially on real estate that no one wanted. With the ample food and supplies I'd brought, snapping up the mansions and lands offered by the wealthy was a breeze.
About ten days into the exodus, once everyone who could flee had fled, the markets ground to a halt. The remaining caravans had raked in fortunes over those ten days.
"We've no more business in Chenliu—how about heading back?"
"But there's no word the Yellow Turbans on the return path have vanished."
"Then what about pushing on to Luoyang as originally planned?"
"The imperial forces have cleared that way—sounds like a fine idea."
The other caravans, loaded with cheap luxuries, headed for Luoyang to sell. I, who'd focused on property, said I'd join them on the way back and saw them off. Now came the moment I'd been waiting for: time to meet Jojo.
Taking deep breaths to steady myself, I set out for Yuzhou Yingchuan. That was where the punitive force dispatched by the court was stationed. Behind me trailed the unsold grain and assorted military supplies. I had no desire to die screaming on the road to Yingchuan. So I'd hired extra escorts, and the cost had been considerable.
It's no exaggeration that commanding a hundred thousand troops burns through a thousand gold a day.
Even a three-digit escort felt burdensome; I couldn't imagine what larger forces would cost. Pondering Sun Tzu's words as we traveled, a family servant asked,
"Young master, are you really planning to offer up all those wagons?"
"Don't ask twice. A merchant who thinks only of money won't make it big."
"But this servant can't fathom just giving away such goods."
With three hundred seok of grain alone among the wagons, his reaction was natural. Selling that much would have netted ten nyang of gold easily. Of course, I wasn't offering tribute to the army out of pure charity.
"Let me turn the question around. Suppose I want to make inroads with Qidiwei, grandson of Jo Deung. Could I do it with these wagons any other time but now?"
No one in the realm didn't know Jo Deung, Jojo's legendary eunuch grandfather, or that Jojo's father, Jo Sung, had bought a seat among the Three Dukes for a hundred million cash. In modern terms, the Jo clan was a political dynasty worth tens of trillions. Knocking on their door with a mere three hundred seok to meet the heir? They'd laugh me off as a cheapskate.
"This is precisely the chance to build rapport with just three hundred seok."
"But he's no governor or inspector—just a mere Qidiwei. Do we really need to meet someone in such a post?"
Of course we did. He was worth far more than three hundred seok. I silenced the servant, forbidding further questions.
Days later, we reached the army camp. A sentry halted us. Even at a glance, he was no ragtag militiaman—properly drilled and disciplined.
"State your business."
The soldier didn't threaten us, perhaps seeing we weren't foes. We didn't look like we could wield any real force either. Noting my attire, he spoke politely, and not wanting trouble, I responded formally.
"We've come to offer tribute."
Naturally, a sentry had no authority over major matters. But I figured they'd summon Jojo over Huangfu Song. Who'd call the division commander instead of the battalion chief?
"Please wait a moment. I'll fetch someone."
My hunch proved right. The soldier returned with Jojo.
A hero is different, indeed.
Jojo, nearing twenty, dominated his surroundings with his stride and breath alone. His effortless command surpassed my imaginings. He was a dragon with its pearl, awaiting ascension. Shaking off stray thoughts, I bowed hastily.
"This humble merchant greets the Han general."
"Qidiwei Jo Mangdeok here. You wish to offer tribute?"
"Yes. Hearing the imperial army is subduing the Yellow Turbans, we've brought military rations."
"Rations? How much?"
"Three hundred seok of grain, plus other useful items for the troops."
Three hundred seok could feed a thousand men for a month. It wasn't the act of a mere merchant. I hoped Jojo would spot the inconsistency, and he smirked.
"You're no merchant."
The surrounding soldiers, mistaking us for enemies, leveled their spears. Jojo raised a hand, signaling they weren't assassins.
"Follow me. We'll talk inside."
Jojo turned and headed for his tent. I hurried after his footsteps.
I followed Jojo into the command tent. With escorts sent outside, only we two remained. His intimidating presence made it hard to stay composed.
"Come to think of it, I didn't ask your name. What is it?"
"Jang Myeong, from Xu Province Langya Commandery. No courtesy name yet."
"No courtesy name? How old are you?"
"Sixteen this year. Haven't taken one due to early business travels."
"You do look young…."
Hearing my age, Jojo muttered and stroked his chin beard. Curious about his thoughts but not in a position to pry, I waited silently.
"Hm, my apologies. Let's continue. Why are you really here?"
Spotting I wasn't acting from pure goodwill, he cut to the chase. I considered wrapping it in flattery but decided against it—his eyes seemed too sharp to fool.
"To meet you, Qidiwei."
"Me?"
I laid out the truth, and Jojo narrowed his eyes, staring into mine. The pressure made my mind feel transparent, but I managed to hold his gaze.
"The Yellow Turban uprising isn't mere unrest. It's the harbinger of chaotic times."
Drawing on my knowledge and experiences here, I spun my tale. Reciting facts from memory, my words flowed smoothly.
"In chaos, the lowly die like flies, and a commoner like me gets swept away easily. To escape that fate, I seek to serve a hero of the age."
"What makes you think it's me?"
His tone softened at being called a hero worth serving.
"I heard of your time as Northern Commandant of Luoyang and saw your heroic qualities. Meeting you confirms it."
Jojo looked pleased, about to ask more, when an intruder beat him to it. A messenger burst in.
"Qidiwei! The Left Commander of the Guards orders an immediate sortie!"
"Of all times. Jang Myeong, do you handle any weapons?"
His sudden question puzzled me. Why ask a lifelong merchant?
"Sword and spear are middling, but my archery can hit a man at a hundred paces."
Since he'd asked, I answered truthfully. Years on the bow made me proficient enough to claim it—though not Lu Bu piercing a distant flagpole or Taishi Ci threading a hand atop walls.
"I can keep you nearby to watch. I'll lend you spare armor."
"I'm going too? Can an outsider join?"
"I don't know your skills yet. Show me on this sortie."
Jojo wasn't one to accept mere words of loyalty. He meant to test my talent and resolve. I hated risking the battlefield, but backing out now wasn't an option.
"What's wrong? Afraid I'll throw you into the meat grinder?"
Meant to ease tension, but thinking of Jojo's glorious future made it hard to laugh it off.