The Magnates of Jiangdong (3)
Just as I had expected, it did not take Cao Cao long to come looking for me.
"General-in-Chief! We've just received word that the General of Agile Cavalry has arrived outside the city gates!"
"Oh?"
She had come within mere days — almost as if she had predicted I would be writing to her.
I mulled over the report for a moment before speaking. "But why is she waiting outside instead of coming into the city? Is something unusual going on?"
"Yes, sir!"
At my question, the messenger dipped his head in a brisk, energetic bow. "There is reportedly someone beside the General of Agile Cavalry requesting an audience with you, General-in-Chief!"
"Hmm..."
I took a moment to weigh the situation. Someone who wanted to meet me, standing at Cao Cao's side, in these turbulent times... I had a fair guess as to who it was.
I spoke in my usual tone. "It's hardly someone whose identity we can't place — in that case, would it be Liu Yao, the Inspector of Yangzhou?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Understood."
Nodding, I tidied the documents spread before me and rose from my seat. "I'll see to the preparations for receiving our guest. Go and escort them here with every courtesy."
"By your command!"
I watched the messenger hurry out of sight, then turned my head. Liu Yao. Liu Yao, hmm... If my memory served, he was another lord who had failed to endure Jiangdong's climate — so different from the north — and died of illness. Aside from that, there was exactly one thing notable about him: he was the lord who had Taishi Ci under his command.
I don't know the precise reason, but thanks to that warrior with a name that somehow just looked cool, Liu Yao was surprisingly strong in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms games. Set her beside factions like Yan Baihu's or Wang Lang's, and Taishi Ci was practically heaven-sent. The only catch was that Sun Ce would come charging in with his eyes ablaze before long.
But unlike a game player, the Liu Yao of actual history had never made much use of Taishi Ci. Because she was one of those people who had never received a character endorsement from any famous name.
Thanks to having punched through a Yellow Turban encirclement all on her own, she was no nameless foot soldier by any means, but... what kind of era was this? An era where you couldn't land a position unless the networking web of the day's renowned scholars was spinning full tilt on your behalf, no? In an age like that, Taishi Ci — without a single connection to her name — was elbowed aside by talents bedecked in glamorous pedigrees, and never won a post under Liu Yao.
No, come to think of it, her rivals hadn't even needed pedigrees that glamorous. Taishi Ci was simply a devoted daughter who had lived caring for her aged parents, and that was all. Anyone born into even a modestly renowned magnate's bloodline would have carried a greater name than she did.
Well... even so, once Sun Ce — the very man she had fought to a standstill in single combat — took her in, Taishi Ci at last began to be properly valued. She campaigned at his side without fail and distinguished herself again and again, lending her strength to the pacification of Jiangdong. The trouble was that she, too, was cut down young. Taishi Ci probably didn't make it much past forty, either.
Every time I saw something like this, I was reminded just how dire the Wu early-death jinx really was. The majority of talents who seemed genuinely exceptional never lived past fifty, you know? This had to be a major reason the Han had never managed to properly pacify the Jiangdong region across its several centuries of rule. The court could barely keep pace with everywhere else as it was — where would it find the strength to subdue a land whose people kept dropping dead one after another?
In short, to turn Jiangdong into true Han territory, talent that was merely brilliant would not do. What it needed was Wu-exclusive talent — people who had acclimated to Jiangdong's climate and finished downloading a complete set of virus antibodies. And now the very faction where such talents were massed in force had come to me.
I turned to the two girls staring blankly at me. "Seo Yeo, Lü Bu. You're with me."
"...Yes."
"Got it."
It was time to go see, with my own eyes, the face of the Inspector of Yangzhou I had known until now only by reputation.
If you asked readers of Romance of the Three Kingdoms whether they had ever heard the phrase "Four Stars of Wu," some would nod, while others would pull a curious expression, as if to ask what on earth that was supposed to be.
If asked what the Four Stars of Wu were, I could have explained it quite simply. The Four Stars of Wu — in other words, the four illustrious magnate families residing in the Wu County area of Wu Commandery, Yangzhou. So which households belonged to these Four Stars of Wu? The houses of four surnames: Zhang, Zhu, Lu, and Gu.
Later generations judged these four families favorably — what had the gist of it been again? Something along the lines of one house excelling in scholarship and another in the martial arts, if I remembered rightly... The haughty nobles of the central court would no doubt have done nothing more than sneer — a pack of country hicks too busy hoisting one another onto pedestals. But I knew roughly what caliber of figures those four families would go on to produce, so I could not afford to underestimate them. ...Not that judging people by their birthplace was right in the first place. That, honestly, was a subject that made my head ache just to think about.
In any case, anyone who had read Romance of the Three Kingdoms diligently would find one surname among those four standing out beyond all the rest. Yes — the Lu clan. What more was there to say? The strategist that house produced was none other than the famous Lu Xun. The very Lu Xun who welcomed Liu Bei — hurtling so earnestly toward Wu's destruction — with a proper inferno at Yiling. Devotees of Shu would no doubt be "eating sweet potato" right about now, that dry, chest-burning brand of frustration.
…….
And yet the Lu family was nowhere in Jiangdong at present. The reason was simple: a while back, I had sent down an imperial edict and siphoned them off to the central court. You see, Dong Zhuo — a man I was weary of even naming by now — had once burned the whole of the Chang'an area to nothing. In the course of restoring a Chang'an left as pure ash, I had invited regional magnates to fill the vacant posts, and the Lu family had been among them. Which went to show that I hadn't staged this whole enterprise with an eye on the Zhuge clan alone.
Four Stars of Wu or no, the plain truth was that their pedigree fell short of the magnates residing in Sili Province. Sili Province, where the Han capital stood, was a place where only the truly illustrious could plant themselves down and take root. And so, at Her Majesty's proposal that they come to Chang'an and assist with the restoration, the Lu family had come running as if on wings. It was the chance of a lifetime to climb from provincial gentry into the central aristocracy. ...Needless to say, my own hand had been behind Her Majesty's proposal.
Having thus settled in Chang'an, the Lu family was, as I recalled, now devoting itself to the reconstruction work throughout the area. The thing was, the Lu Xun I'd mentioned was a figure from the latter half of the Three Kingdoms era — "young" didn't begin to cover it. I had looked into it separately, and she turned out to be two years younger than even Zhuge Liang. Which made her thirteen at present.
Our faction was hardly in any desperately dire straits at the moment, so the plan had been to watch Lu Xun quietly from a distance and wait until she came of age.
"...Pardon me. Do you, by any chance, like children?"
"Hm? Of course I do. They're cute."
"That's not what I meant.... ...Whew. Never mind."
Sima Yi, having caught me watching Lu Xun from afar, had lobbed that odd question my way, but I didn't think it warranted any real worry. Children were creatures of the abyss — forever cooking up mischief, throwing tantrums by the dozen, and perpetually asking for noogies — but we were what those creatures of the abyss became once they'd grown. Where in the world was there a person perfect from day one? Everyone learned as they grew; that was simply how it worked.
"Seeing this, I think I finally understand why you're so popular with children..."
"What's that supposed to mean all of a sudden?"
"...Stop eavesdropping on me!"
And this from the girl who had made certain every word carried straight to my ears. Honestly, Sima Yi was every bit the incorrigible little brat herself.
"Ah, so this is where you were."
"...Hm?"
I had only just begun my preparations to receive the guest when the door burst open and a familiar figure strode in. Long silver hair spilling down to her hips. Silver eyes that caught the light no matter who was looking. A woman with a cool, cerebral beauty who nonetheless wore the most mischievous of smiles came gliding toward me with soft, unhurried steps.
"Fufu. To think I once endured the better part of a year without seeing this face of yours — I can scarcely believe it myself."
"...Cao Cao?"
What was with the cheesy line this time? Did she realize the man behind her was giving us a very strange look right now? Having grumbled inwardly for a moment, I reminded myself that this was simply who Cao Cao had always been. Right — she'd been like this from the day we first met. Recalling how she had suddenly taken an interest in me and clung to me like a magnet back then, there was nothing the least bit strange about it.
Then Cao Cao, who had been quietly studying my face, said, "What do you think you're doing? Your wife returns from seeing to matters outside, and you can't even give her a hug."
By that logic, I was the one who had just returned from business abroad. Of course, if I said as much, Cao Cao would only flash that impish grin and ask whether I wanted her to do the hugging instead. After a brief deliberation, I answered her in a level voice. "...I'll do it later. We do have eyes on us at the moment, you know."
"My, how bashful." At my answer, Cao Cao gave a little laugh and lowered her arms. "Though of course, I find that endearing side of you rather charming in its own right."
…….
That lovesick blindness of hers showed no sign of wearing off. Well, at the very least, there was no danger of things growing distant between us as a couple.
I turned to the man, whose expression was still dazed, plainly unable to make sense of what he had just witnessed. "I apologize for putting you through such an awkward welcome. Would you be Liu Yao?"
"...I am, General-in-Chief."
Liu Yao, Inspector of Yangzhou, bowed with scrupulous courtesy at my greeting. Judging by his bearing, he had no intention of feuding with me the way Liu Biao had. Which, naturally, suited me just fine.