Wrap-Up (2)
It didn't take all that long for Zhang Liao's army, having taken Ye Province, to make its way back to Luoyang.
After the Inspector of Ye Province and the Prince of Chen surrendered, the army paraded the length and breadth of the province, flexing its military might, and the commanderies and counties that didn't even bear another faction's flag swore their loyalty in a rush.
All told, it took about a month and ten days.
Just as I'd predicted, Ye Province was pacified before the start of winter in November.
I might... actually be smarter than I thought?
If a game ever came out based on me, I think they could bump my INT stat up by at least five points.
Whether such a game would ever actually exist is another question, though.
Compared to the Three Kingdoms of real history, this era's history had turned out remarkably dull, so there was a good chance it would be brushed aside as a "there was a time like that, once" footnote.
Which era ended up famous, after all, hinged on the hand of that Mr. Luo Guanzhong.
The Records of the Three Kingdoms that Chen Shou wrote was a historical chronicle and nothing more — dirt boring, frankly.
Big events like the Yellow Turban Rebellion, the Anti-Jeong Reung Coalition, and the warlord free-for-all had happened, and then... that was it.
No chain of backstabs from Lü Bu, the quintessential early-game troublemaker. No Battle of Guandu where Cao Cao and Yuan Shao went head to head.
No Battle of Changban starring Zhang Fei and Zhao Yun, no Battle of Red Cliffs where Cao Cao went up in flames, no Hanzhong campaign, no Siege of Fancheng...
Yeah, this era is never going to be famous.
It'll probably wrap up at the level of Emperor Guangwu — had a good war, ate well, lived long.
So this is what it feels like to care about how posterity will judge you.
...I wasn't even born in that era. I should really let it go.
What mattered to me right now wasn't the future a few thousand years away, but the present.
"My lord. Our army has come into view near Luoyang."
"Understood."
Receiving the adjutant's report, I rose from my seat.
These were people who had commanded the army in my stead and worked themselves to the bone. Going out to greet them in person was the least I could do.
"Abooboo."
I, who spent every spare moment cradling a baby, glanced around before calling out one person's name.
"Diaochan."
"You called, my lord?"
Diaochan appeared almost the instant I spoke her name, as if she'd been waiting for it.
...I'd half doubted it, but she really was always there.
First the way she'd materialized the moment food came up back at the Mid-Autumn Festival, and now this — did she just stand sentinel outside my door whenever nothing else was going on?
If that was true, I could only click my tongue in awe.
The woman's professional instincts were truly something else.
I held Seo Hui out to Diaochan, who bowed with impeccable courtesy.
"......"
"It's starting to get cold out, you see. I'm counting on you."
The weather was turning bit by bit with November just around the corner.
There was no way I could take an infant with an immune system like wet paper out into that.
You stay here like a good girl, in this nice warm place. Your only job is to eat your fill and sleep like a log.
"As you command."
Diaochan seemed to read my intentions immediately, accepting Seo Hui with a posture that didn't betray a single flaw.
"......"
Squiiiish.
It was, admittedly, entirely predictable — the wriggling bundle in my arms clutched my clothes in a death grip, refusing to let go.
Even when I carefully pried her tiny fingers loose one by one, they snapped right back. I was at a complete loss.
My clothes are going to stretch out at this rate.
You can't get genuinely rough with a baby, so what was I supposed to do?
And the moment our eyes met, my resolve turned to mush — it felt like I'd been hit with every debuff in existence.
I forced a gentle smile, attempting to negotiate.
"There's my precious little one. I'll be back before you know it, so let go... pretty please?"
"......"
Squiiiiiish.
"I-I really will be back super fast."
"......"
Squiiiiiiish.
Come on, let go already.
Daddy has work to do, you know!
This incomprehensible battle of wills reached a peaceful resolution only when Seo Yeo, who had been watching the whole scene from nearby, stepped in.
"......"
"......"
It did bother me a little, watching mother and daughter exchange glances of entirely unknowable meaning.
She's not hitting puberty this early... is she?
Gong Ju, Inspector of Ye Province.
No — perhaps he should now be called the former Inspector of Ye Province.
Gong Ju was a man of such extraordinary eloquence that people around him praised him as one "so skilled in pure discourse that he could breathe life into a withered tree."
But the world does not bend to one's favor merely because one can argue logically and well.
Regrettably, Gong Ju's military ability fell considerably short of the mark.
He had taken part in the Anti-Jeong Reung Coalition once led by Yuan Shu, only to accomplish nothing — in fact, he'd returned empty-handed after losing soldiers and officers to Lü Bu.
Ambushed by Yellow Turban remnants and beaten down again and again, he was, quite literally, on a streak of one defeat after another.
Battered and broken, Gong Ju had been unable to rebuild his strength and could do little but scurry behind his city walls.
And how he had trembled when word came that Cao Cao, Governor of Yanzhou, and Yuan Shu, General of the Rear, both had designs on Ye Province.
Later, when the defeated Yuan Shu was driven out of Jing Province and the Grand General moved into his place, Gong Ju very nearly fainted on the spot.
The Grand General Jeong Reung, the Governor Cao Cao, the Prince of Chen Liu Chong...
What was that old saying again? When whales fight, the shrimp die.
The moment giants he felt guilty even comparing himself to clashed over Ye Province, it was obvious he'd be crushed like a shrimp caught between leviathans.
He racked his brain this way and that, but no path of survival appeared.
And so, as the situation spiraled toward disaster, a single goal crystallized in Gong Ju's mind.
Live thin and long, above all else.
Coveting what he could not have was out of the question — he would dream instead of a safe, uneventful life.
That was why Gong Ju handed over the seal of the Inspectorship to the Grand General — the first to act — without a moment's hesitation.
Even without holding the lofty post of governing an entire province, the salary alone was more than enough to look after himself and his family.
"Gong Gongxu. My lord extends an invitation to you — to Luoyang."
"......"
A host of arms so vast that one's spirit withered at the mere sight of it.
The brown-haired woman commanding that host flashed a beautiful smile.
"He wishes to consult you on matters regarding Ye Province, I'm told. Is there any particular reason you must decline?"
"...No. None at all."
Had he handled the woman's offer the wrong way, his neck would surely not have survived intact.
He had, after all, a record of joining the coalition and attacking Hulao Pass, which meant he had every reason to tread very carefully indeed.
And now, at last.
"Ah. So you're the Inspector of Ye Province."
He found himself face to face with the Grand General he'd only ever heard about in rumor.
The man who had appeared like a comet and revived a Han Dynasty left dying by generations of corruption.
Rather unexpectedly, the Grand General was a man with a warm, affable face.
Judging by looks and manner alone, one would believe it if you called him an ordinary commoner.
Unpretentious, frugal, humble.
Such a sight was enough to leave Gong Ju astonished.
It meant that despite holding power no one else could so much as touch, the man had not lost his original heart.
A transcendent figure — uncorrupted by the lure of fame and power, unbound by them.
Wasn't that bearing rather like... an immortal who had left the mortal world behind?
Deeply moved, Gong Ju bowed respectfully and answered.
"...That is so. Please, feel free to call me as you like."
"Good of you. Much obliged."
The Grand General, nodding, continued without pause.
"I'm sure you already know, but the reason I've called for you is..."
What was said after that, Gong Ju could not remember well.
It was, after all, just talk — asking how things stood in Ye Province, and so on...
"......"
"......"
The two escort generals staring him down had eyes that were simply too terrifying.
How could human beings possess gazes so murderous?
It was the sort of look that could knock a faint-hearted man clean unconscious.
Was it a warning that any funny business would not be forgiven?
The moment every word of the meeting was finished, Gong Ju beat a hasty retreat, exhaling a sigh of relief as he clutched his chest.
"Truly... nothing in this world is easy."
Still, things had passed without incident, so perhaps he should count himself fortunate.
The Grand General had even mentioned granting him a new post, which meant all that remained was to take his well-earned rest.
And so Gong Ju was making his way along with considerably lighter steps when someone approached him.
"Might I have a brief word?"
White hair and white eyes — striking enough to imprint themselves on anyone's memory at first glance.
The girl was obviously no ordinary person, and her mysterious air made up Gong Ju's mind for him; without hesitation he adopted a respectful bearing toward someone smaller than himself.
"Yes. What business do you have with me?"
"I have come to offer you a very short piece of advice."
The girl, half-hiding her mouth behind a white feather fan, continued in a level voice.
"Naejeonbosal."
"......"
It meant "a Bodhisattva seated in the inner palace" — an idiom for someone who knows perfectly well, yet pretends not to.
Gong Ju understood the meaning well enough, but he wondered what intent lay behind such a bizarre word, dropped so out of nowhere.
"...Am I to understand what you mean by that?"
"I mean precisely what I have said."
To his question, the girl offered an unreadable smile.
"Know, and feign ignorance."
"......"
"Bear it well in mind: touch what must not be touched, and you will invite great calamity."
With that answer, the girl withdrew.
"...What in the world was that supposed to mean?"
Gong Ju was baffled at first — but before long, he understood exactly why the girl had said what she did.
"Wahaha─! Nothing beats eating until you're stuffed!"
"Keep it down, you slab of muscle! Gwaaegh—!"
"...How much wine has she put away?"
Because inside the establishment he'd ducked into to fill his stomach, he ran face-first into faces he knew far, far too well.
"......"
A woman who had once wound a yellow turban about her head on the battlefield waved a hand at him.
Why — why were the Yellow Turbans, whom no entreaty had ever swayed, dressed in the uniform of Han officers?
Gong Ju turned the question over and over in his mind, then fled the place in haste, his face drained white.
'...Know, and feign ignorance.'
...It seemed living the carefree life he'd dreamed of would have to wait a good while longer.