Jealousy (1)
The war against the rebels who had thrown Liang Province into chaos finally drew to a close.
When the remnants of the rebel forces still lingering in Wuwei Commandery confirmed that their leaders were dead, most of them surrendered to our side, aside from the bands that had already fled.
Once Pang De's haul—the severed head of Beigong Boyu along with that of Marquis Yiwen—and the head of the disguised impostor that Ma Chao had brought back were sent up to the court, He Jin formally pardoned my father's past crimes and granted him the title of Administrator of Jincheng, while my uncle Ma Teng received the office of Administrator of Wuwei.
The other warlords of Guanxi, who had refused to rise against the Han and instead proclaimed their neutrality, submitted to our army now that it had toppled Beigong Boyu, a power they could hardly ignore. A few of them were still testing the waters, but before long, they too would be absorbed into our ranks.
The condition of the people of Wuwei, who had lived under rebel rule, was utterly miserable. Most of them had been stripped of their food and were wasting away, gaunt from hunger, while the young men had been press-ganged into forced labor. Thieves roamed the countryside freely, and public morale had sunk to rock bottom.
By rights, I should have been at my father's side assisting him in Jincheng, but instead I attached myself to Uncle Ma Teng—a man brilliant at leading armies yet still green at governing the people. I wasn't exactly a master of politics myself, but I was better suited to it than the Ma family, who had poured nearly all their talents into generalship and martial prowess. At the very least, I could raise things up from the bottom they had hit now.
I began distributing relief grain from the estates of the warlords who had led the rebellion, and little by little, the people's hearts began to steady. I was so swamped with work that I worked day and night, too busy even to think of using my knowledge of the future to create anything new. With mountains of tasks piled up before me, spare time was a luxury I simply couldn't afford.
Drip.
...Ah, another nosebleed.
Days of relentless work had accumulated in my body, and blood came trickling from my nose. This being Liang, where men were far handier with a sword than with a pen, was a genuine misfortune. Why on earth were there so few competent administrators? Once I threw out all the corrupt officials who had lined their pockets in league with the rebels, I had almost no one left to help me, and the workload was enough to work me to death.
Thankfully, there was someone at my side lending a hand—otherwise I really might not survive.
"Are you all right? Here. My lord."
"Ah, thank you."
"It is only natural."
With a captivating smile, the woman handed me a handkerchief to wipe away the blood, along with the next bamboo scroll. It wasn't Yan Xing standing firmly at my side in the role of bodyguard—it was Pang De. She carried herself as primly and gracefully as a secretary attending a company executive at work, and since she also handled military paperwork in her old post as a clerical officer, she seemed quite at ease with this kind of labor.
Immediately after returning with Beigong Boyu's head in hand, Pang De had knelt before me—not my father—and sworn her loyalty. When I asked her why, her answer was simple and direct.
"To serve as my lord the man who brought peace back to Liang, abandoned as it was to lawless times, is only natural."
Chastened by words that put such weight on my shoulders, I offered my usual modesty.
"...There's no need to talk me up like that. Aren't you overestimating me a little?"
"I am simply trusting my own eyes. So please, accept me. My lord."
Since I was, of course, in dire need of talented people, there was no reason for me to refuse Pang De, and I granted her request. The five hundred volunteer soldiers she had led likewise became my personal guard troops. As it happened, my father needed Yan Xing to absorb the rebel soldiers into his command and oversee their large-scale retraining, which left Pang De to take up my protection instead. From what I heard, the soldiers who had caused trouble by robbing the common folk were giving Yan Xing no end of headaches as he tried to set their heads straight.
The reason I entrusted that heavy responsibility to Yan Xing rather than Pang De, who was the more formidable martial artist and thus more likely to rule through fear, was simple: however much Pang De surpassed Yan Xing in strategy and martial skill, the difference in their standing was real, and such a post could not simply be handed over to her outright.
I did feel a bit lonely without Yan Xing, my usual conversational partner, but I figured it was fine—this gave me a chance to grow closer to Pang De instead.
Except...
she possessed a subtly lethal charm.
Pang De was a beauty with a cool, composed air that stood in perfect contrast to Ma Chao's bright, bold temperament, and as an older woman barely past twenty, she carried a mature allure as well. On top of that, she was showing clear favor toward me. Every time she drew near, a light, pleasant fragrance tickled my nose, and whenever I glanced her way, she would reward me with a smile as fresh and lovely as a single cluster of wildflowers. She had avenged her family—my contribution aside, her affection toward me ran remarkably deep.
"I'm baaack!!"
The door burst open under a flying kick, and in strode a radiant blonde beauty. Watching her childish antics, I chided Ma Chao quietly.
"How many times have I told you—doors open with your hands?"
"Oh, quit it. Do we really need that kind of thing between us?"
Her breezy words made me pause for a moment of soul-searching.
...'Us'? What exactly is 'us'? At best, we're childhood friends and a sparring dummy, aren't we?
Ma Chao dropped into an empty chair and settled in for a rest. She was currently leading the cavalry on patrol, supervising public order throughout the region.
"By the way, why is she here?"
Ma Chao narrowed her brow and glared at Pang De, speaking as though she couldn't stomach the sight of her assisting with my work.
"I am the bodyguard entrusted with the duty of assisting my lord. If anyone is the unwelcome guest here, would it not be General Ma Chao?"
Where she was always warm and easygoing with me, Pang De's tone toward Ma Chao was coolly businesslike, sizing her up without ceremony.
"What? I'm Han Yeong's childhood friend—we're specially close, got it?!"
"This is a place of official business. Keep personal matters outside."
At that calm rebuke, Ma Chao's brows slanted sharply, and she glared with half-lidded eyes. Pang De met that murderous gaze with an expression of utter composure. In midair, their eyes clashed, and an invisible contest of wills crackled between the two women.
...And there they go again.
When Pang De first joined our army, I'd assumed that sparring with Ma Chao so often would win her recognition of Ma Chao's martial skill and bring the two closer together. But their personalities simply grated against each other, and their relationship was far from friendly. Ma Chao clearly disliked how Pang De stuck so close to my side, while Pang De disapproved of Ma Chao—supposedly a general, yet showing not a shred of dignity, only reckless flippancy. Pang De had pointed out Ma Chao's conduct more than once in her stern, formal manner, but Ma Chao, who barely listened even to me, was never going to listen to her. For her part, Ma Chao—who lived freely without caring a whit for anyone's opinion—absolutely detested Pang De's nagging insistence on discipline and military law. The result was that whenever the two of them exchanged more than a few words, growling at each other like this was simply daily life.
...Weren't the two of them never particularly close in the original history, either?
Pang De had originally served under Ma Teng and, after Ma Teng's death, had naturally become Ma Chao's subordinate. There was even a passage in the Annals of Yan noting that Pang De, disliking Ma Chao's recklessness, spoke against him as though playing the role of his strategist. Though she fell ill and could not accompany him on his final campaign, when Ma Chao surrendered wholesale to Liu Bei, Pang De ended up serving under Zhang Lu instead. A lord and the talented subordinate who serves him do not always enjoy a good relationship. Case in point: Lü Bu and Gao Shun, or Yuan Shao and Tian Feng.
Lü Bu knew full well of Gao Shun's loyalty and integrity, yet in her arrogant willfulness she refused to employ him properly—instead stripping him of his very troops and treating him with contempt. History, for its part, judged Gao Shun a talent more than worthy of Lü Bu. And had Yuan Shao actually listened to Tian Feng's counsel, the one who would have won the Battle of Guandu would not have been Cao Cao but Yuan Shao himself, and the realm that rose would have belonged to the Yuans, not the Caos. Instead, he favored the schemes of Guo Tu—the very man who had squandered most of his forces—and at Feng Ji's goading, went so far as to put Tian Feng to death. However capable a servant might be, these were stark examples of how everything ends badly under the wrong lord.
Xun Yu and Lu Xun, who both contributed enormously to their nations' expansion, also maintained fine relationships with their respective lords early on, only for those bonds to end in tragedy. Xun Yu, devoted above all to restoring the Han, opposed Cao Cao's acceptance of the ducal title and the Nine Bestowments, and was cast aside with an empty food box in answer. Lu Xun, in his final years, became entangled with Sun Quan over the succession and, despite all his past achievements, was berated until the day he died, grieving himself into his grave.
Because of examples like these, whenever I watched those two clashing the way they did, an uneasiness I couldn't quite name kept gnawing at me.
"...Fine. Let's settle it. Come outside. One match."
"By all means, go wait for me out there first."
They had ignored my gentle attempts at mediation for days now, and something about Ma Chao especially made the anger boil up inside me. Watching them radiate murderous intent and work themselves up to a full sparring match, with all my pent-up stress from the mountain of work besides, I finally exploded.
"Enough!!"
Both women froze at my shout.
"...Huh?"
"M-my lord?"
"...Haa. Both of you, out. You're interfering with my work."
I had always tried to reason with them gently, and they had never listened, so I was half convinced that losing my temper wouldn't accomplish anything either. But I decided that a single clean burst of anger beat standing by and watching their relationship fester any further.
Ma Chao might be a lost cause, but Pang De will surely listen to me.
She was sharp-eyed and, more importantly, my subordinate—of course she would grasp what I meant.
But—
"I-I'm sorry...."
Huh?
Against all expectation, it wasn't Pang De but Ma Chao who cowered as though scolded, her eyes brimming with tears as she apologized.
Why is she... acting like that?
It was a fragile side of Ma Chao I had never once seen—not even back when she'd ignored every word of my coaxing as so much noise in her ears.
"Um... are you really mad at me?"
Her image overlapped with the girl from childhood who, after beating me black and blue under the pretense of "sparring practice," had tearfully mumbled her apologies just like this. Those jade-green eyes, which had never once lost their fire even amid the fury of the battlefield, now trembled and quivered, and her silk-fine hair hung limp and lifeless about her shoulders. Even Pang De, seeing this delicate side of Ma Chao for the first time, could not hide her bewilderment. I was no different.
Why would she suddenly act like that...? Did I lose my temper too harshly?
True, I had shouted—but she looked utterly lost, like a puppy abandoned by its owner.
"......I'll go on ahead. Sorry for interrupting your work."
After apologizing to both me and Pang De, Ma Chao trudged out with her shoulders slumped, her strength drained. Once she was gone, in the awkward silence that settled over the room, Pang De hesitantly spoke up.
"...I will wait by the door. Call if you should need anything."
After Pang De left, I should have gone back to work, but Ma Chao's tearful face kept lingering in my mind, and the bamboo scrolls refused to hold my attention. Before long, I let out a tangled sigh and stepped outside myself.