The Return (1)
With the local magnates who had been thorns in my side cleared away, nothing held me back any longer, and I threw myself into putting the house in order. Even so, there wasn't a single item on the list that looked likely to eat up much time. Aside from the corrupt magnates themselves, nothing here struck me as needing to be torn down and rebuilt from the ground up.
After governing impoverished stretches of land like Bing Province and Xiliang, coming into a region this abundant left me feeling thoroughly reassured.
That said, neither of those two territories was entirely without its uses. Bing Province stood as the front line holding back incursions by outside tribes like the Xianbei and the Wuhuan — a land whose military value was immense.
And Xiliang was... what was it again? The Sichou zhi lu, wasn't it? Put that way, it sounds tremendously learned, but what the term actually means is nothing special at all: the Silk Road. The famous trade route linking the lands of the west with the lands of the east — a name instantly familiar to anyone who had so much as skimmed a history book. It was only because no one in China spoke English that they insisted on the unfamiliar-sounding Sichou zhi lu.
At any rate, with a mid-route city of that very Silk Road sitting in Xiliang, it was hardly a region worth cursing as nothing but sprawling, useless emptiness. The real problem was the whole assortment of foreign tribes I would meet head-on the moment any expedition struck out westward.
Chief among the peoples whose territory overlapped with the Silk Road were the Xiongnu. What made them so maddening was their habit of charging a toll from anyone who tried to pass along the road. And if that toll went unpaid — naturally — they would simply plunder the merchant caravans, then sell off the goods they'd stripped away and pocket the proceeds themselves. Filthy barbarians, the lot of them...
The Xiongnu's power had waned a great deal by the final years of the Later Han, but they were not so diminished that they could be dismissed outright. ...Though, come to think of it, there had been word lately that the Xiongnu's movements were a touch strange. The intelligence had come directly from Han Sui in Wuwei Commandery, in Xiliang, so it could hardly be wrong. I did hope they would have the decency to sit quietly.
My thoughts had slipped away somewhere for a moment there — but in any case, Jing Province had no such serious problems left. Currency, army provisions, and the other vital supplies had been stockpiled in generous quantities despite the campaign we had just fought through. Give the soldiers a short rest, and I could have marched straight into the next war.
Of course, that things stood this rosy owed a great deal to the efforts of the former Governor of Jing Province. One of the Eight Gentlemen of Jiangxia, after all. The onetime Governor of Jing Province — Liu Biao. He had failed to master his hunger for power and met an ugly end, but the abundant stores he had so diligently cultivated in Jing Province now belonged entirely to our camp. I intended to put those supplies to good use, so he was welcome to sleep soundly.
The matter of settling the surrendered soldiers and officers, too, was wrapped up quickly thanks to talents of Zhou Yu's caliber. There had been that report she submitted to me a while back, no? It amounted to turning the army on its head, and my head swam just reading it — but since I would not be the one handling the fine details in the end, I told her to do as she pleased.
I calmly weathered the look Sima Yi gave me — the gaze of someone watching a rather irresponsible man. These days, that much didn't even earn a blink. After all, with our forces swelling overnight from swallowing Jing Province whole, reorganizing the army had been necessary. And I would have to remember to drill them all over again, too, until their hands and feet moved as one.
"Haaah..."
Convinced the work was more or less finished, I slumped bonelessly into my chair. Lately even walking to the office had become a chore, so I'd ordered that only the truly essential documents be brought to my room — and there was still a mountain of them.
Seo Yeo, who had been watching over me from behind, spoke up.
"You've worked hard."
"Yeah. Thanks."
I answered her with a yawn, my face worn thin with fatigue. For a moment Seo Yeo said nothing. Then she stirred from her place and, with an ease born of long practice, spread out my bedding.
I stared at the scene, dumbfounded.
"Come on — spreading my own blanket is something I can manage, you know?"
"It is something I wish to do. Do not concern yourself."
…
Something about this really was off, wasn't it? I couldn't say exactly when it had started, but as the days went by, Seo Yeo had taken to looking after me down to the smallest trifles. It began with helping me wash and dress, then buckling on my armor, combing my hair, tidying up around me... Anyone who didn't know better would have taken her for a maidservant hired to wait on my every need rather than my bodyguard general.
"Please rest now."
The odd feeling never quite left me, but fatigue was not something my body could refuse. At her words I lay down obediently among the blankets, and Seo Yeo slipped the Chu Heaven Sword from her back and laid it at her own side.
Sword set down, she knelt quietly at my bedside.
…
Seo Yeo gazed at me once with those tranquil eyes, then slowly closed her own. Was it consideration — so that I would not feel the weight of her gaze? Her thoughtfulness left me feeling warm and settled, and I let my consciousness sink away.
When I opened my eyes, it was the small hours before dawn, the sun not yet up. Hmm... nothing so strange about that. I had gone to bed far earlier than usual the night before — right around the time the sky was dimming and dusk was settling in. I'd conked out by the hour most people were sitting down to dinner, so waking now was only natural.
Turning just my head, I looked around through eyes washed clear of fatigue. Where had Seo Yeo gone? Apparently she had returned to her own room to rest. It really had been a while since I was left alone. She, who had stuck to my side like a baby animal refusing to leave its mother — and now, of all times...
Rustle.
The soft stir of the blanket cut my wandering thoughts short. Come to think of it, the area around my side felt strangely warm. This was not the warmth of a blanket pulled close — it was the warmth of another person pressed near.
No way...
I shifted my hand a little and lifted the edge of the blanket.
…
And the moment I peeled it back, my eyes locked dead-on with Seo Yeo's — wide open, staring straight into mine.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. She was no ghost, so what in the world was this? Surely some horror film had a scene just like this one?
Seo Yeo, flattened against my side, gazed at me with her usual expressionless face. I asked in a dazed voice.
"...What are you doing here?"
"I was resting."
"Like that?"
At my question, Seo Yeo gave a small nod. Could anyone really rest with a blanket pulled over her head? My curiosity stirred, but I kept my expression as level as I could and pressed on.
"Did you actually get any sleep?"
"Yes."
Seo Yeo was incapable of lying to me, so everything she had said had to be true. I honestly didn't know whether to marvel that she had crept so carefully to my side without waking me, or to marvel that she had managed a genuine rest in that position.
Then a single question flitted through my mind. The Seo Yeo of the past would have been terribly embarrassed by even this much contact — and yet now she had closed the distance first, of her own accord, and pressed herself against me. There was a faint heat in her face, so perhaps she wasn't entirely past feeling shy. Even so, measured against the woman she used to be, it was a leap and a bound.
...Mmm. It felt like we were inching forward, one careful step at a time.
— "Master."
— "Yes?"
— "All women are beasts."
Why, of all things, did that old exchange with Seo Yeo choose this moment to surface? It was probably no coincidence at all.
Anyway — that afternoon, after all of that. Having finished every last piece of complicated business the day before, I had resolved not to budge an inch from my seat today, and I passed the time accordingly. I was human too; a man deserved a day of leisure now and then, didn't he?
"So you're just going to sit there spacing out?"
"Yep."
Lü Bu, who had come to find me, stared at me with an expression that plainly said she had no idea how to respond. I met those blood-red eyes of hers and waited for her to speak.
…
…
Just as what had to be our umpteenth staring contest was about to officially commence, Diaochan slipped quietly into view.
"My lord."
"What is it?"
"...A letter from the imperial court."
"What?"
I bolted upright in my seat. Diaochan — proud owner of a beauty that could topple kingdoms — held the letter out to me with a courteous bow. No imperial envoy had come in person; it was simply a single, elegantly penned letter. Taking it in hand, I thought:
...Come to think of it, how many days had it been since I left Luoyang? I had dragged my feet for the sake of taking Jing Province without a single scratch, so a fair stretch of time must indeed have passed.
I unfolded the letter with a knot of unease — and the very first line made me clutch my head.
General-in-Chief. Is it not about time you came home?
Who else in all of Han could address the General-in-Chief so brazenly? The Emperor, naturally. The letter, penned in gorgeous calligraphy, carried on from there.
Had these been ordinary times, We would have waited a while longer in patience for your return. But of late, a piece of news has reached Our ears that We cannot well ignore.
...Don't tell me that's the news. With a flicker of disquiet, I read the rest.
Word has it that a certain rabble meant to do you grievous harm. To hear of it is to worry — and worry has robbed Us of Our sleep at night.
News certainly traveled fast. It hadn't even been a week since that blood-soaked banquet. But if word had reached the imperial palace and a letter had come all this way, then she must have been keeping a close eye on my every move all along.
We hardly imagine you could be brought low by such worthless wretches — and still, We should like you to show your face once more.
…
And should you have taken any of them alive, bring them before Us.
There the letter ended. That final line felt as though the brush had been pressed down harder than anywhere else. What exactly did she intend to do with them, if I brought those men along?
...I had no idea.