Aftermath (4)
At first, it was nothing more than curiosity.
"They are all women far too good for me."
He was the only one at the banquet who turned his gaze elsewhere while every other attendee sat unable to look away from him. If anything, the man seized that attention as an opening, handling with practiced ease the girls posted around him as his guards — girls who, even to her practiced eye, were clearly generals radiating a grand and formidable presence. How on earth did he command them all with such effortless grace?
One thing, at least, was certain: just as the rumors swirling through the world claimed, he looked perfectly ordinary — and yet he was unmistakably not a man to be underestimated.
"Diaochan. Do what it is you wish to do."
Those were the words Father spoke that night, after the man had gone home. For her — a woman who had always given her utmost for the father who had taken her in — they were strangely foreign words. Never once in her life had she stopped to think seriously about what she truly wanted. Perhaps that was precisely why Father had said them: a quiet plea that she not live a hollow life, drifting along on the words of others.
So, moved by his words, she made a rather impulsive decision. A curiosity had taken root in her, she said — she wished to observe that man for a little while. At that, Father simply laughed, warm and rumbling, and told her to do as she pleased.
"Do as you like. Leave the talking to me!"
From then on, everything moved in a single unbroken dash.
"Thank you for taking me in."
"...Right. Likewise."
The General-in-Chief could hardly bring himself to refuse Father's request. He nodded along with a dazed look on his face, as though he still hadn't the faintest idea how he had come to be in this situation.
"My lord, be on your guard. Since ancient times, a woman who approaches without cause has been an object of suspicion."
"Relax. She's not into me."
The girls who had stood at the General-in-Chief's side back at the banquet had shown nothing in the way of welcome for the woman who had so abruptly joined his household as a maid. She took it in stride; she had already guessed how those girls felt about him.
But everything that unfolded afterward kept slipping past her expectations.
"I'm Zhang Liao — Wenyuan. Let's get along well, shall we?"
A beauty with an air of fresh, unadorned grace, her brown hair bound back tightly at the crown of her head.
"There's something I've been curious about, personally. Would you answer a question for me?"
"Please, ask."
To the question of the general famed throughout Jeong Reung's army as second only to Lü Bu, Diaochan answered with due courtesy.
"What is our lord like when he's at home?"
"..."
Zhang Liao had tossed out the question about the General-in-Chief as though it were the most natural thing in the world, her brown eyes sparkling. The impression stayed with her.
"He likes to take things easy, at his own pace."
"Hmmm... just as I thought!"
With that, Zhang Liao nodded and broke into a bright smile that suited her fresh features perfectly.
"Thank you!"
"...Yes."
Watching her, Diaochan could only conclude that the General-in-Chief was popular to an almost alarming degree.
"...Would you take my question as well?"
Next, a woman whose grey hair was pinned neatly in place came up to her. The question from the woman with those calm, blue-green eyes was this:
"I would like to know how to speak to him without sounding so stiff."
She remembered the general's name was Gao Shun, if she recalled correctly.
"...Wouldn't it be fine to simply talk to him as you always do?"
"I see. Thank you."
And with that blunt word of thanks, the blunt general withdrew.
Just what on earth had that been about? Watching it all unfold, Diaochan couldn't vouch for anything else — but she knew one feeling with absolute certainty: this was fascinating.
After that, too, she met a great many people.
"They said the General-in-Chief's maid was a peerless beauty under heaven — and it was no exaggeration!"
"...Forgive my rudeness, but who might you be?"
"Ah! I'm Xu Huang, courtesy name Gongming! Please, don't stand on ceremony!"
There was the woman who had strolled up with a bold, hearty smile playing at her lips. Diaochan assured her there was no need to be so formal, but the woman flatly refused and would not set her courtesies aside.
"Is the General-in-Chief within?"
"Might I ask what business you have with him?"
"Nothing much! I just came across some fine liquor and thought we might share a drink... HURK!"
There was the man who had come bearing a gift, eyes screwed shut as he fought down a great dry cough. Ma Teng, was it? The way this honest, unsophisticated man gulped down his breath in startlement at the sight of her was genuinely amusing.
Beyond them, there were so very many more. Countless figures, each with a charm all their own — for a woman who had lived her whole life at home wanting nothing, it was a scene unlike anything she had ever known.
Yet the people who came seeking the General-in-Chief, each so vividly individual, shared one thing in common: not a single one of them thought ill of him, or found him daunting. These were men and women whose heads could roll at his merest whim — and never once did they let that fact weigh on their minds.
The shameless ones who switched their stances as easily as flipping a palm. The petty ones who forgot a kindness overnight yet clung to the smallest grudge to their dying day. The sinister ones who smiled to your face while a knife lay sheathed in their hearts, forever eyeing each other as prey. Having seen nothing but such people in Luoyang, Diaochan felt a sharp pull of interest. Just what manner of man was this General-in-Chief, that such people gathered at his side?
There had been a day, once, when the family of the man called Dong Zhuo — who had burned so many of Chang'an's citizens alive — was taken into custody. The adults stood in silence, sensing in their bones that death had come for them, while the children gazed up at those same adults with innocent, unknowing faces. The little ones felt only that the air had turned grave, and like their elders they simply pressed their lips shut and stayed quiet and still.
She had felt pity, then, that even such children should have to die — but there was nothing she could do. The victor exterminates the vanquished down to the last soul of his household. That was politics. Such bloody purges had been carried out since time immemorial, age of chaos or no. All she could do was pray, inwardly, that the General-in-Chief would let the innocent children pass without pain.
Then, at the very moment when every soul present assumed the entire Dong clan would be cut down without exception, the General-in-Chief — who had stood with his eyes closed, deep in thought — delivered an unexpected verdict.
A judgment no one had foreseen. The generals who followed him were loyal to a fault; without a word of protest, they carried out his command. The adults of the Dong clan, who had braced themselves for massacre, wept as they gave their thanks for the General-in-Chief's mercy, then went quietly to their executions. A few refused to accept the verdict and raged against it — every last one of them met a painful end.
But treatment so utterly without precedent was bound to draw censure from elsewhere. Troubled by the thought, Diaochan broached the matter when the General-in-Chief visited her home.
"A decision like this will surely earn you whispered criticism. Are you certain it's wise?"
To her question, the General-in-Chief answered as if it were nothing at all.
"Nobody picks the parents they're born to. Dying just because you happened to spring from a traitor's bloodline — that's too cruel."
It was a voice that carried an unshakable conviction: he could not simply stand by while the innocent were made to suffer.
"Anyone who's got a problem with that can come and tell it to my face."
A man who acted, boldly and unflinchingly, on what he believed was right. Because he was that kind of man, she felt she finally understood why so many brilliant people followed him — why the common people sang his praises and clung to him so devotedly. Here was a man who could bring peace to this maddened world, one who would end an age of chaos drenched in blood and build a golden age that would shine for all to see.
And it was then, for the first time in her life, that Diaochan decided what she wanted. She wanted to stand at his side and support him, so that the General-in-Chief's dream would never come to a wasted end.
And yet, there was exactly one thing about the General-in-Chief that displeased her.
"Oh. Uh. Thanks."
His attitude toward her — and her alone — was bafflingly halfhearted. The way he kept her at arm's length, as though drawing near to her would invite some terrible calamity, stirred a peculiar, simmering pique. She did not think her charms fell short in any company whatsoever, so why on earth did he behave this way? Any number of men had clutched their chests and crumpled where they stood at a single curve of her smiling eyes, yet none of it worked on the General-in-Chief. Though — whenever she tried, she did catch him staring for a heartbeat, utterly spellbound. So surely he wasn't the sort who preferred men...
Every inch of distance she closed, he retreated in equal measure, and Diaochan's heart grew quietly wistful. Worse still, there were even women who watched her with open wariness, which made closing the gap with the General-in-Chief an exercise in sheer frustration.
And at this point, a pointless stubbornness began to take root. All this time she had respected his evident wishes and kept a discreet remove — but from now on, given half a chance, she would close that distance once and for all. Just how long did he intend to go on gawping at her with those dazed, befuddled eyes? The question gnawed at her. A thought that could only belong to a woman who had never once, in all her life, been refused by anyone.
The General-in-Chief, who could not possibly have known what Diaochan was thinking, merely felt a chill run through him as gooseflesh prickled across his skin.
"It's hot as an oven today. Why am I suddenly freezing?"
"...Might it be an ill omen?"
"Out of nowhere?"
Jeong Reung, rubbing at his goose-prickled arms, looked rather nonplussed at Seo Yeo's words.