Changshan's Zhao Zilong
The Zhao clan of Changshan had once been a family of some renown in Jizhou. To say they were "renowned in Jizhou" meant they lacked the influence to make a name for themselves in other regions, especially Luoyang. The deliberate use of the past tense "had been" was because they were now a family of little consequence. It was only natural. Their only daughter had fallen for a servant and eloped with him to Youzhou in the dead of night.... If the pair had at least lived well afterward, things might have been different. After all, any children she bore would still carry Zhao blood. Whether grandson or granddaughter, they could simply pick the brightest one and adopt him to continue the line. Even if half his blood came from a servant... it was still Zhao blood, was it not? In this era, adopting someone to carry on the family name carried no shame. So if they had chosen a capable child and let him take the maternal surname, and if she had borne many children and raised them well, the situation might still have been salvageable.
But that only daughter, her husband, and all their children were slaughtered together during a Yellow Turban raid. In a single moment, the Zhao bloodline capable of continuing the family was wiped out. The old man Zhao could hardly sire more children with his aging wife at this point. Even conceiving their single daughter had required strenuous effort in his younger days. Two elderly people had no way to continue the Changshan Zhao clan. No matter how much power the family once held in Jizhou, what could they do? Everyone dies when they grow old. The stares from other local clans waiting for the old man to die grew more brazen with each passing day. So all Old Man Zhao could do was regret not adopting a successor sooner and wait for death to claim him.
About a month had passed since the old man, devastated by the end of his bloodline, had taken to his bed and could barely stand. Strange rumors began drifting in from Youzhou. At first, he assumed the servant boy had simply brought back baseless gossip. But instead of dying down, the rumors only grew stronger, gaining details until they sounded almost believable.
Old Man Zhao refused to believe them at first, focusing instead on preparing to meet his ancestors in the afterlife. Until...
"Master! Stop lying there and listen to what this fool has brought! They say the young lady's youngest son is alive! The Zhao bloodline hasn't been cut off yet!"
"Nonsense! You've come here spreading lies just to torment this old man's heart! Get out! Get out! I can barely face my ancestors as it is, and now even the servants are tormenting me...!"
"Master! That rumor from last time wasn't nonsense! It's true! The youngest young master is alive and gathering strong men in Youzhou to avenge his parents!"
"N-nonsense! My grandsons and granddaughters all died with my poor daughter! Are you still tormenting me with these lies? ...Get out!"
"Master! The rumor was real! The young master avenged the young lady and wiped out every last one of those bandits! People across the Han are already calling him a filial son!"
"...Nonsense! Even if my youngest grandson truly survived, how could a boy who has only just reached adulthood slay those vicious criminals alone? ...Go find out more details!"
"Master! The rumors have spread everywhere now! Young Master Bangyeol joined forces with imperial troops from Luoyang to crush the bandits. In the process, he rescued a young lady who had been kidnapped and the two fell in love! This is the real thing! Merchants and courtesans from Youzhou are spreading the tale in the marketplace as we speak!"
"......Nonsense! How can you believe the words of those lowly merchants and entertainers? ...Ahem! Well, I suppose people from Luoyang will be passing through Jizhou as well?"
"Of course! Merchants have an incredible nose for money, don't they? The main Luoyang army is camped down in Gulu, so they're all heading there to do business."
"I-I see... Then if they're traveling from Zhuo Commandery to Gulu, they would pass through here.... Mak-soe, go to the butcher and buy some meat."
"Mak-soe, you wretch! What are you doing lazing about here? Wake every servant in the house at once and prepare a feast!"
"...Master?"
"Old woman! Old woman, get up quickly! Our grandson... no, our grandson Bangyeol is marrying the youngest daughter of the Yuan family from Runan! The rumors are already all over the streets!"
"N-no, Master... There are so many false rumors in the marketplace, how can you believe such nonsense..."
"Nonsennnnnse!!! Mak-soe, you bastard! How dare you speak ill of our grandson Bangyeol! Stop standing there like an idiot and go slice the meat!"
"...Good heavens, I can't even..."
In this way, as time passed, Old Man Zhao's happiness circuit burned so fiercely that it seemed to have melted his brain. Like an old man addicted to internet political broadcasts, he now believed every rumor that drifted through the streets and absorbed them like a sponge.... His eyes sparkled with a brightness unseen even in his youth, and his voice rang with vigor. He looked like a man who had been born for this very moment.
And so time flowed on until the sun beat down directly overhead—the perfect hour for lunch. At long last, the long-awaited (grand)son Bangyeol appeared. The old man paid no attention whatsoever to the five thousand soldiers marching behind him. There was only one thing he needed to do.
"Aigoo!!! Who is this I see! The pride of our Han! My pride! 'My grandson'!! Bangyeol has come!!! Kehehehehe!!!"
Who would believe this old man had been on death's door just two days ago? With movements too spry to belong to an elderly person, he dashed toward Bangyeol. The sight was no different from an otaku rushing to receive a long-awaited figurine.
An old man comes sprinting up the hill path straight toward me. His eyes shine so brightly it's almost burdensome, and his face is split by an enormous smile. ...This must be the body's maternal grandfather. Since he's this happy to see me, I should show proper respect.
By the time I dismount and tie my horse's reins to a tree, the old man who had been far down the path has already reached me. What should I say? Should I mention my mother's death first? Or introduce myself? I don't know. Honestly, seeing him smile like this, it feels like he would laugh even if I cursed at him.... Let's just follow how people introduced themselves in these situations in the old stories.
"This unworthy one, Bangyeol, was far away when my parents and siblings met their tragic fate and could not protect them. Though I have taken the heads of our enemies and achieved some small measure of revenge, I have continued to live this shameful life until now. I confess this sin to my maternal grandfather. Please do not forgive me, but punish me as I deserve."
Is this enough? Of course I wasn't actually asking to be punished. But this was how people spoke in classical era settings. As I knelt and bowed my head, the old man cleared his throat repeatedly, his voice thick with emotion, and turned to gaze at a distant mountain to hide his flowing tears.
I had assumed he would still resent us since his only daughter had run away with a lowly servant in the middle of the night, but it seemed that wasn't the case. No matter how foolish her actions, she was still his daughter. It made sense. His only daughter had fled a wealthy household only to die miserably. Of course he would grieve. Perhaps I had judged this old man from a powerful clan too harshly, thinking he would lack both blood and tears. Come to think of it, his welcome earlier had been almost excessively warm. Even an elder from a prestigious family was simply an ordinary grandfather to his own kin.
Though he wasn't truly my grandfather and was only welcoming this body due to a misunderstanding, my heart still grew warm.
"What kind of talk is that! Come, stand up... What sin could you possibly have to confess to this old grandfather of yours?"
The old man—no, my maternal grandfather—finally stopped his tears and took my hand to help me rise.
"Rather, this old man has nothing but regret and gratitude toward you.... I should have called all of you here long ago, but your mother always said your father would feel uncomfortable about our family's gaze and stopped me. Looking back now, I should have insisted and brought you here even if I had to use force...."
I was the foolish one.
My grandfather muttered in a voice full of remorse before deliberately brightening his tone and changing the subject.
"Still, as the saying goes, misfortune may be a blessing in disguise. You've made quite a name for yourself across the Han! ...The rumors have spread all over the marketplace. Are they all true?"
It seemed the story of me avenging my family and slaying the Yellow Turbans had spread exactly as planned.
"Yes, every word is true!"
"Oho, of course! With such a fine grandson, how could it be otherwise!"
My grandfather was overjoyed. Was he truly that happy that I had become known as a filial son who avenged his parents?
"I had wanted to adopt one of you children long ago to continue the Zhao bloodline of Changshan, but after hearing that terrible news, both your grandmother and I were devastated beyond words. Even now, it's not too late. Would you allow this old man to adopt you?"
Though he asked cautiously, this was actually beneficial for me as well. I naturally accepted. ...And just as expected, I needed to confirm that name.
When I nodded, he beamed with joy and pulled out a piece of paper.
"This old man has studied a little and written down an auspicious given name and courtesy name. Here! From now on, this shall be your new name."
Of the Zhao clan of Changshan, given name Yun. Courtesy name Zilong. How does that sound?
...It was the name I had expected. Zhao Yun. Zilong. Changshan's Zhao Zilong.
This body... it hadn't been just an extra after all.