Just a Little More and It'll Be Done...
Just a Little More and It'll Be Done...
"Grrrrr... Pwaahh... grrrrr... pwaahh..."
Ji Ling lay sprawled inside the thatched hut, snoring away.
Originally I'd planned to head back today, but the meal dragged on longer than expected, the sun went down, and we missed our window.
Anyone who's done military service in Korea knows: navigating a mountain trail in the dead of night with not a single streetlamp is harder than you'd think.
Even with a torch you have to pick your way step by step—no speed—and riding a horse through that isn't much easier.
In the end, staying the night here became unavoidable. But unlike Ji Ling, who practically passed out the moment she lay down, I couldn't sleep at all.
The hut was too cramped for more than two people to begin with,
and while the ladies at least got to lie on the sleeping platform, the spot left for me was the freezing bare ground with a single layer of straw thrown over it.
The nightmare of field training bivouacs from my past life began creeping back. I decided I'd rather be a little cold and sit outside by the campfire.
As I stared into the flames, the icy winter wind bit through even my thick clothes.
Thinking about it—both in the Original Timeline and in this reality—Yuan Shao's patience, holding out for six whole years under conditions like these, is genuinely incredible.
Just then.
"..."
"Huh? Sister?"
Yuan Shao materialized soundlessly behind me. Unfazed by my small start, she settled down next to me as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Can't sleep. Too noisy."
"Ah... mm... sorry, Sister..."
Considering the low rumble of Ji Ling's snoring still carrying over, it was obvious. Guilty that my retainer had cost her sleep, I tossed a few more logs into the fire and asked,
"How's your body holding up? It's almost over now. Any discomfort anywhere?"
"... No. None."
"When it's done, you can finally eat all the meat you want and drink, too. The new cook I brought in is pretty good, so you can look forward to it."
"I'll look forward to it."
As always, her answers came in clipped, one-phrase replies. If my memory was right, she spoke at much greater length with other people without any trouble. With me, though, her words always stayed short.
Did this little brother still make her uncomfortable? But then again, the way she'd sat right next to me instead of across the fire—that had to mean she didn't dislike me...
No... maybe it was because I'd half-forced her to eat that bean porridge she hated again today.
But even if her affection for me took some damage, this really was something I couldn't help.
This was the late Later Han, an era with no real concept of protein or essential nutrients.
In a situation like this, banning meat and controlling diet on account of the Three-Year Mourning meant the protein steadily draining from your body.
I knew very well what kind of problems that caused down the road.
In the Original Timeline, Yuan Shao ultimately lost to Cao Cao. There were plenty of reasons—the shock of the defeat at the Battle of Guandu among them—but the single biggest factor was Yuan Shao's own lifespan.
Yuan Shao died suddenly before even turning fifty. Meanwhile, Cao Cao, rival and friend, lived on for nearly another twenty years after Yuan Shao's passing.
Many people believe that Yuan Shao's death was caused by an illness contracted from the aftereffects of the Six-Year Mourning, which was then fatally aggravated by the shock of the Guandu defeat. As someone who has seen the conditions on the ground myself, I'm nearly a hundred percent certain of it.
For six years, Yuan Shao had lived in a thatched hut with no proper heating or cooling, her delicate frame clad only in mourning clothes.
On top of that, she couldn't even eat meat, and the rules of the Three-Year Mourning forbade calling for a physician even when she fell ill.
In every respect, it would've been impossible to endure without superhuman mental fortitude—and even if you endured, it would've been stranger for your body not to end up wrecked.
Given all this, I—needing to preserve the Yuan Shao token by whatever means—had put in various efforts of my own to keep this sister from being ruined by the aftereffects of the Six-Year Mourning the way he had been in the Original Timeline.
Avoiding anything that would tarnish the significance of a six-year mourning—constructed from two back-to-back three-year periods—required a good deal of care, but that didn't mean there was no way to help.
Even if it wasn't a full Three-Year Mourning, I, Yuan Shu, was just as much a son with every right to visit my mother's grave as Yuan Shao.
It'd be stranger for anyone to object to a child visiting their parent's grave often.
Making use of that, although my official post kept me from visiting too frequently, whenever time allowed I'd come, personally prepare bedding and meals like today, and I made a point—especially for nutrition centered on protein—of feeding her mixed grains built around beans.
Whether she appreciated this little brother's earnest effort, or whether at some point she'd realized she'd die otherwise, Yuan Shao always emptied the bowl clean even while wearing a look of dislike.
I felt bad enough that I wondered if eggs might be a little better, but on that front she was the one who refused, telling me just to bring the beans.
Some of those stiff-necked Confucians could even find fault with eggs, she said.
In any case, maybe thanks to my efforts, even now, with the Six-Year Mourning nearly over, Yuan Shao had grown thin but had avoided any real illness and was maintaining a reasonably healthy state.
At this rate, there was a good chance she'd never suffer that pointless death from health problems the way she had in the Original Timeline.
Even if I couldn't visit during the remaining days...
"Now that I think of it, Sister, there's something I need to tell you."
"What?"
She was gazing at the campfire from a half-crouched posture. Watching that face—thin, yes, but still as lovely as ever—I decided to tell her now what I'd meant to say before leaving.
"I'm leaving Luoyang."
"What?"
She turned sharply toward me. Seeing the look on her face, far more startled than I'd expected, I let out a light laugh and said,
"I caused trouble. While working, I ended up crossing Jian Shuo of the Ten Regular Attendants—some uncle of his, or whatever he was. Honestly, I knew I'd get some kind of punishment, but those bastards demoted me all the way out to the frontier."
"... Wh-where? Where are you going?"
"Haha, what are you so shocked about? Isn't this good? Now the mean little brother who forces you to eat beans will finally be gone—si... Sister?"
"..."
In the middle of trying to joke, I found myself at a loss for words.
Yuan Shao's round eyes, like blue gems.
And welling up inside them, glistening tears, thick as chicken droppings.
I'd expected some surprise, but the sheer scale of their reaction left me thoroughly thrown off.
"Si... Sister. Are... are you okay? I—I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd be this surprised..."
"..."
Watching me stammer out my apology, Yuan Shao simply remained silent. The tears that had gathered slipped down her cheeks.
Whether it was from simple shock and hurt, or something else entirely, I couldn't tell.
The only thing I could do in this situation, as her younger brother, was soothe my crying sister. Nothing more.
*
Her little brother had tried to comfort her and somewhere along the way had fallen asleep.
Looking at the boy huddled there with nothing but a single blanket wrapped around him, Yuan Shao tossed another log onto the campfire.
The wood crackled and snapped as it caught.
Watching it burn as though it were her own heart, Yuan Shao bit down softly on her lip.
'It's almost... almost here... just a little... just a little longer...'
Even now, the enormous tomb loomed whenever she turned her head.
Until this very day, on this spot, she had walked a thorny path that no one else ever took—toward the fulfillment of her own wishes.
Toward the thing she had always thought about, always longed for.
So she could claim it with her head held high, without minding anyone else's gaze.
But now, at last, this long season of endurance was drawing to a close. At the very moment she could finally begin the plans she had dreamed of for the future.
This boy...
Her precious little brother. The existence who had become her reason for living.
Was leaving her side.
"Don't... go..."
"Zzz..."
The small voice that slipped from her lips never reached the ears of her sleeping brother.
"Don't... go... Gonglu..."
If only she could, she wanted to shout it louder. Please don't leave. Stay by my side from now on... the way you always have.
She wanted to wake him and beg him.
But in the end, she couldn't.
Because she knew she mustn't. Because she knew she couldn't.
Yuan Shao was all too aware that as long as those eunuch wretches squatting inside the Imperial Palace existed, bowing her head to them was the only choice.
For now, that was what she had to do.
"I'm sorry..."
The apology emerged in a hush.
With that, Yuan Shao fell silent and carefully reached out.
Her little brother's body, so much bigger and heavier now than in childhood. She drew him against her shoulder and quietly closed her eyes.
Soothing the feelings she'd buried deep... and feeling a thick rage toward those who were tearing her brother away from her.
'Just wait... a little longer. Someday, I swear...'
*
The farewell with Yuan Shao ended with surprising quiet.
She'd even shed tears last night—had she sorted out her feelings in the meantime?
Well, she'd never been one to show much emotion to begin with, so a subdued parting like this suited her, if anything.
With our business in Luoyang essentially concluded, we headed straight back to the family estate.
"Now you go home, pack, pick up your appointment, and leave?"
"Yeah. I'm finally getting out of this filthy Luoyang."
"Not even trying to hide it anymore, are you... It's awkward watching you be that openly happy, my lord."
Ji Ling was right—with no one around to see, a bright smile was spreading across my face. It was a little awkward toward Yuan Shao, who'd actually cried last night, but the truth was that right now I felt anything but bad. I felt fantastic.
"So? What's the reason? Did you actually land a surprisingly good post? If it's a position with some muscle, like Colonel, I'd take that any day over loitering in front of a mountain of dispatches all day."
"Heh, don't worry about that. You're going to be fighting so much you'll be absolutely sick of it—more than this time."
Even though I'd caused 'trouble' and gotten demoted, the Yuan Clan's power had firmly backed me through the process. In exchange for being kicked down to the provinces, they'd made sure I secured the post I wanted.
As a result, my situation looked to anyone like a demotion, but technically, at least in form, it was a promotion. And the assignment itself landed squarely on the exact position I'd been planning for.
From the start, crossing a heavyweight like Jian Shuo's uncle had been groundwork for exactly this.
The post I'd secured while so many people sorrowed and lamented for me—that post was connected to a major event that had begun roughly ten years earlier than in the Original Timeline.
The phrase that was shaking the realm.
—The Azure Heaven is dead; the Yellow Heaven shall rise.