Luoyang, the City That Never Sleeps
Luoyang at dusk. Commonly known as the sleepless city. Of course, given the era, the grand nickname felt somewhat hollow—once night fell, the streets grew as dark as any other town. Yet the title stuck because, day or night, the roads remained packed with people constantly on the move. That ceaseless bustle made it seem as though the sun never truly set, earning the city its lofty praise. In short, it was a place where some drifted off to the crowing of roosters while others rubbed sleep from their eyes to begin their day. That was Luoyang.
By day it echoed with the bellows of the high and mighty; by night it rang with the drunken songs of revelers. The city never quieted, yet like any other, it observed a curfew. Not for the entire city, of course—otherwise who would be mad enough to wander after dark? Anyone sensible would simply stay indoors to avoid a beating. The restrictions applied only to entering or leaving the city and to loitering near the imperial palace. The authorities, considerate even of the dim-witted who couldn’t tell time, avoided setting a strict hour. Instead, curfew began the moment the sun set and lifted at sunrise. Before it started, drums boomed from the palace and city gates, urging people nearby to hurry away.
The rules were lenient enough, but anyone caught near the palace or gates after curfew faced merciless punishment. This applied to commoners and high officials alike—at least in principle. Yet people were people, even in Luoyang. How many lunatics would dare order powerful night wanderers to leave? How many incorruptible guards would refuse a bribe to open the gates? In reality, curfew simply did not exist for the powerful or the wealthy. Of course, there were always a few mad or upright exceptions who beat everyone equally regardless of rank or riches. Occasionally one might witness some lofty figure hopping mad after an unexpected thrashing, screaming for the offender’s head, but most of the time the culprits went unpunished. After all, they had only done their duty.
Those who could humiliate the powerful without official repercussions were the gatekeepers and patrol soldiers. Therefore, it would be a mistake to think of the Bearer of the Gilded Mace, responsible for palace patrols, or the Colonel of the City Gates, who oversaw Luoyang’s gates, as mere head gatekeepers. This was what Ji Ling had been rambling about after Zhao Yun escaped the stifling atmosphere inside the carriage.
Ji Ling claimed he was offering advice since Zhao Yun was new to Luoyang, but anyone could see he was simply bored and talking to pass the time.
“…So you’d best be careful! Every new official who arrives in Luoyang gets humiliated at least once. Your achievements in suppressing the rebellion are considerable, so you’ll surely be staying in Luoyang for a while!”
“…You’ve said that more than five times already, sir.”
“Huh? Have I…?”
With a foolish giggle that ill-suited his hulking, bald frame, Ji Ling scratched the back of his head.
“By the way, when exactly will we be allowed inside? It looks like the sun’s about to set…”
“Hmm… What can we do? We’re not the only ones waiting, so we’ll just have to wait!”
Concluding they wouldn’t make it in today, the surrounding soldiers had already begun preparing to camp for the night. They had just crushed a rebellion, yet this treatment felt far too shabby. At the very least, returning triumphant generals deserved a free pass.
“Good grief, you’re quite greedy, aren’t you?”
When Zhao Yun voiced the thought, Ji Ling waved his hands in disbelief.
“Am I the strange one here?”
“Of course! Who would give special treatment just for beating up a few peasants? Why don’t you ask for a triumphal procession while you’re at it?”
Ji Ling burst into hearty laughter.
…What? Had people always reacted this way?
“No, but the Yellow Turbans threw half the country into chaos, didn’t they? We stopped that!”
“Whether they threw half of it into chaos or not, what does it matter? They were just rabble who rose in spring and died by summer. Look here, Zilong! We left Luoyang in late spring and returned in early summer. Who would make a fuss over beating such pathetic fools? Of course we won.”
Spring to summer… So that was why the reaction had been so lukewarm? Thinking about it, it made sense. They had slaughtered the enemy and returned almost immediately, so naturally people thought, “Ah, they must not have been much after all.” In the original history, they should have fought bitterly until winter before barely securing victory. Winning this quickly—too quickly—had changed everything.
Zhao Yun scratched his head irritably. So what now? He couldn’t tell whether this shift was for better or worse, but one thing was certain: history was already diverging from the path he knew. Unexpectedly. Without even intending it, the flow had already changed. Changed far too much.
The Yellow Turban Rebellion. This peasant uprising at the end of the Later Han was seen as the spark that would eventually topple the dynasty. Although the core forces led by the Zhang brothers in Ji Province collapsed within a year, even that had been shocking at the time. After all, their opponents had been elite troops sent from Luoyang! No matter how numerous, they were merely farmers who had risen up out of hunger. They stood no chance against the well-fed and constantly trained Imperial Guards. Victory for the suppression army was inevitable—and it should have been overwhelming.
Yet what had actually happened? After a series of wins and losses, the court had replaced its commanders three times before finally eking out a victory. Luoyang’s prestige had taken a severe blow. The capital’s forces alone proved insufficient, forcing the recruitment of volunteer militias from across the land. Even then, they only managed to pacify the Yellow Turbans in Ji and Yan Provinces before returning, leaving the rest to local gentry and capable administrators. Those who had been quietly watching for opportunity began to catch the scent—the stench of a rotting central government.
As a result, some began playing emperor in regions beyond Luoyang’s reach. Others quickly resigned their posts and gathered private armies back home under the pretext of fighting the Yellow Turbans. Still others openly rebelled. And then there were those who, despite the decay, sought to wrest power from the Ten Eunuchs, those waiting for the eunuchs and warlords to exhaust each other, and those who used the rebellion as an excuse to plunder the people and amass strength. Everything stemmed from the disgraceful performance the central government had displayed while suppressing the Yellow Turbans. When the distant fist proved weak, people turned to the nearby strong fist.
But that was the original history, where fighting in Ji Province dragged on past November. Now things had shifted slightly. Dong Zhuo, who should have suffered a crushing defeat at Zhang Jue’s sorcery and been driven back, had instead achieved a decisive victory thanks to Zhao Yun’s… contributions and Yuan Shu’s throat. …Yuan Shu herself probably remained unaware of how spectacularly her throat had performed, and Zhao Yun sincerely hoped she would stay that way forever.
Thanks to that victory, Luoyang’s incompetence and the terror of the sorcery had not been exposed. The ambitious figures who had been testing the waters would likely keep their heads down for now. Although the rebellion had spread across too many regions and local gentry support was still required, the situation was far better than in the original timeline. At the very least, they had successfully demonstrated the central government’s continued strength. Therefore, ambitious men would not think, “The central government is useless, so I should build my own power and live like a king.” Instead, they would think, “Ah, they’re not completely useless after all! I should head to Luoyang after crushing some Yellow Turbans.” The act of gathering volunteer soldiers remained the same, but the purpose had changed.
Up to this point, it seemed Zhao Yun was closer to the peaceful life without turbulent times that he so desperately wanted… but every silver lining had its cloud. That truth held here as well.
In the end, Dong Zhuo’s suppression force failed to enter Luoyang before sunset and had to spend the night outside the walls. Some grumbled as they prepared to sleep, but inwardly they all looked forward to enjoying themselves in Luoyang the next morning, drifting off with pleasant thoughts.
Inside the Luoyang palace, Jia Xu was meeting Zhang Rang, leader of the Ten Eunuch Ladies.
“Hmm~ So Dong Zhuo sent this letter?”
“Yes, my lord. Colonel Dong ordered me to deliver the bamboo slips to you first.”
While watching the woman reclining on a plush bed and inhaling Five Minerals Powder, Jia Xu clicked her tongue inwardly and bowed her head, answering in an ingratiating tone.
“Haa… I see. I’m rather busy right now, so I’ll read it again tomorrow.”
With a languid voice thick with the scent of the drug and poppy, the woman gestured for her to leave. Jia Xu bowed once more and turned away.
Busy, my ass. Was getting serviced by a man while sucking on drugs considered busy work?!
Muttering inwardly, Jia Xu departed after delivering the bamboo slips as ordered by Dong Zhuo. Zhang Rang, leader of the Ten Eunuch Ladies, glanced over the contents once more and smiled softly.
“So… you’ve found quite an interesting toy, have you…? Cao Cao’s… Hmm~ Yes, right there, lick more. Cao Cao, huh… Heh… Jian Shuo will find this amusing…”
Zhang Rang tossed the bamboo slips aside and sank back into the bed. Written upon them in elegant script were details of the battle in Ji Province and the man known as Cao Cao’s guest general, Zhao Yun.