Yuan Shang Takes a Step
"Is that truly something that ought to come from an eleven-year-old's mouth? Speak honestly. There's an old man sitting inside that body of yours, isn't there?"
Father tossed it out half in jest and half in earnest, his voice trembling faintly.
I shrugged and answered with perfect ease.
"Do you remember how all Luoyang buzzed with the rumor that your son had gone mad?"
"I heard you were cured. Don't tell me you still—"
"I am cured. More than cured. My mind was a tangled knot, and the pain of it was unbearable, but once it tore open I seized in a single stroke the knowledge others spend a lifetime gathering."
"Hah. And I'm to believe this?"
"Believe it."
"Whether I ought to call it a blessing..."
"Of course it's a blessing. Your son has come back a genius."
When I laid it on thick, Father sucked in a stunned breath.
He gazed down at me for a long moment, then brushed my shoulder with a rough hand.
"Yes. You've suffered. Your father was thoughtless."
The touch was heavy, and warm.
Sentiment had barely begun to rise in me when Father's face turned grave again. If Dong Zhuo, military power already in his fist and his rampage only beginning, went so far as to cast down the Emperor himself, could he truly be stopped?
"But if what you say is true, I don't know whether I could stop Dong Zhuo even if I staked not only my life, but the whole of the clan."
"Father."
"Speak."
"Do you believe the center of the realm is Luoyang?"
"What a question. The Emperor resides there, and the hundred officials of the court are gathered there. That is why this father of yours endures, however he can."
I shook my head.
"You're wrong."
"What?"
"Change the way you think. The place where you stand—that is the center of the realm."
It was a dangerously bold thing to say, and Father's eyes went round.
"If Dong Zhuo rises and sets a new Emperor upon the throne, Luoyang will be nothing but a den of bandits. Don't roll about in that mud. Step outside, and draw the board anew."
"I draw the board anew?"
"Yes. If you seize the righteous cause and raise your banner, where will the heroes of the realm gather? To Dong Zhuo in Luoyang—or to you?"
The corner of Father's mouth crept upward.
The notion of moving the seat of power from a place to a person. A very dangerous notion, for it shifted the center of the realm from the Emperor to Father. And seeing him so plainly delighted even while he understood that perfectly well, I thought his ambition was anything but ordinary.
"Ha! You rascal—truly admirable. No, admirable doesn't cover it. You've offered counsel that a host of strategists never managed to present."
"And there, build your strength. Afterward, join with heroes who share your purpose and drive out Dong Zhuo, who rules by tyranny. If you take the lead and steady the realm, you will become a true hero."
Father slapped the desk and laughed, broad and unrestrained.
The deliberation was over.
"Good. We'll do as you say. I'll watch how things stand for now, and then I too will move."
"Wise of you."
"And Wen Chong, along with twenty soldiers—use them as you see fit. Even if Yan Liang demands them, I'll see they aren't taken from you. If funds for their upkeep run short, I'll open the storehouse. Spend as you please."
"Oh, truly? No taking it back?"
"You brat. Do you take your father for a pawn on a chessboard?"
Solid backing. He was not merely praising me with words; he was putting military authority and the purse strings into my hands. My standing with him had clearly risen high.
Now that I had even a small force of my own, a memory shoved into a corner of my mind rose to the surface.
"Father, one thing more."
Father, already turning to go, stopped awkwardly.
"Is there a department director in the General-in-Chief's manor named Zhang Liao?"
"Zhang Liao? You mean Wenyuan?"
Father frowned, searching his memory.
"He came in on the recommendation of Ding Yuan, Inspector of Bingzhou. A few months ago he went north of the Yellow River on the General-in-Chief's orders to recruit soldiers, and there's been no word since. The General-in-Chief is dead, and the Inspector of Bingzhou is dead. A man with any sense would have fled home long ago."
"I see."
"He's either dead or fled. One or the other. Why do you ask?"
"May I bring him in and put him to use?"
At my brazen request Father let out an incredulous laugh.
"A man you can't even say is a corpse or a deserter? And could you control him besides? Leave it be. You're far too young. This father has spoken with you enough to know your true ability, but will he? I worry you'll only have your heart wounded for nothing."
"It's all right. Even if I fail, I'll count it a precious experience. And who knows—he might be a great catch."
"Heh. Sturdy dreams you have. Very well. If you find him, make him your man. If you can."
Father ruffled my hair and granted it as if it were nothing.
He did not wholly believe me, but he wanted to test whether I possessed any military talent. Unlike Wen Chong, Zhang Liao had no point of contact with me, and he was a man who had risen as high as department director. Father seemed to think it difficult, and yet to hope all the same. He also looked convinced that Zhang Liao would never return.
True enough. Looking at the state of Luoyang now, coming back would be madness.
But I knew. I knew he was the sort of man who would commit that madness.
"Shang'er."
"Yes."
"Wen Chong has grown a great deal. I'll grant him the post of Acting Sima. Only then will your words carry weight."
"Thank you."
It was like him. An Acting Sima was a commander, yet not a formal appointment—only a temporary commission. Father patted my shoulder once, then left the room.
"Huixing. Look at the state of you. You've had a hard time of it."
"Hardly. I only ran myself half to death so I wouldn't smear the young master's good name."
Wen Chong brushed the dust from his clothes and grinned. It was a simple, honest smile, ill-matched to that solid bulk.
"From now on, follow only my orders."
"I've only ever followed the young master's orders."
"That isn't what I mean. You needn't watch Uncle Yan's mood. The Colonel-Director of Retainers has handed me full command of you and twenty household troops."
"...Truly?"
Wen Chong's eyes went wide. He had been my guard, yet by the chain of command he had still answered to Yan Liang—an awkward place, and it seemed to have rankled him sorely.
"I will serve you with every ounce of my loyalty! Only now have I truly met my master!"
Wen Chong shot to his feet and dropped into a bow so deep the floor trembled beneath it. I burst into a pleased laugh and waved him up.
"Enough of that. Get up. There's work to do at once."
"Whose head shall I bring you?"
"Not a head. A man to escort home. Someone named Zhang Liao."
Wen Chong tilted his head.
"The department director from Bingzhou who served in the General-in-Chief's manor? I heard he went north of the river to raise troops and vanished."
Wen Chong had certainly changed. To think he had grasped even a detail like this. He must have heard Yan Liang or the other generals talking and tucked it away, but he had grown beyond any comparison with the man he had been.
"He hasn't vanished. He will return to Luoyang. He's only late because he's seeing his mission through."
"Where do we wait for him? The Mengjin ferry burned."
"Wushajin."
At the certainty in my answer, Wen Chong blinked.
"The Heishan Bandits have already burned Mengjin out, so no boats can be launched there for some time. Wushajin is different. Grain barges come and go, so the place is crowded—but there is nowhere else."
I drew two letters from my robe and handed them to Wen Chong. One was an official dispatch stamped with Father's seal as Colonel-Director of Retainers. The other was a personal letter into which I had pressed my sincerity, line by line.
"Go and deliver them. Once he reads these and learns how Luoyang stands, his thoughts will multiply. And he will want to come under the Yuan. You must bring him."
"Well now. For the young master to go to such lengths, Zhang Liao must be quite the general."
"If you fail, the blame falls on you, so prepare thoroughly before you go."
"Set your worries aside. If he digs in and refuses, I'll beat him senseless and haul him back stuffed in a rice sack if I have to."
"Ah—and from today your post is Acting Sima. Work hard, and become a proper Sima."
"I'll carve this kindness into my bones."
Wen Chong's eyes even brimmed, he was so moved. Of low birth, he had never dared imagine becoming a commander. Temporary though the post was, he looked ready to take flight.
"Make haste."
"I'll be back."
Wen Chong snapped a crisp military salute and vanished like the wind.
I sank deep into the chair.
General-in-Chief He Jin is dead, and Ding Yuan died by Lu Bu's hand at Dong Zhuo's instigation. For Zhang Liao, left with nowhere to turn, the name of the General-in-Chief's manor no longer means a thing. He'll want neither Dong Zhuo nor Lu Bu. In the end, he will come to me.
Zhang Liao, just now, was an unscratched lottery ticket. No—a ticket already guaranteed to take the grand prize. How common, across the whole of the Three Kingdoms, is a general who joins martial prowess, stratagem, and loyalty in one man? I had to make him mine. He was far too precious to leave in anyone else's hands.
To hand Dong Zhuo the office of Grand Commandant was to entrust a fish to a cat.
Empress Dowager He, ruling from behind the curtain, trembled as she held the brush. After General-in-Chief He Jin, her sturdy support, had died, Luoyang had become nothing short of a wolves' den. The only corner she could still trust was the man before her: Yuan Shao.
"Must he truly be appointed Grand Commandant? That hideous old man?"
"You must. Otherwise there is no telling what he will do."
Yuan Shao answered with a grim face. He wore that look because he knew Dong Zhuo's danger.
"We throw him the office as bait, and buy time."
"If we buy time... can we win? Everything spread beyond those walls is Dong Zhuo's army."
Moisture gathered in the Empress Dowager's voice. It was not the gaze of a dowager wielding power, but of a woman seized by fear. Yuan Shao forced an easy smile to reassure her and offered his counsel.
"Your Majesty. This is Luoyang, not Liangzhou, Dong Zhuo's own front yard. With this humble servant and the loyal ministers of Han watching, eyes wide open, would the man dare play false? Whatever means I must use, I will stop Dong Zhuo's tyranny."
"I will trust only the Colonel-Director of Retainers. Truly, there is no one else I can trust."
"In return, I ask Your Majesty to block just one thing."
"What is it? Say whatever you wish."
The Empress Dowager leaned forward. He could feel her grasping at straws.
"This servant's military authority."
"Military authority?"
"Once Dong Zhuo becomes Grand Commandant he will lie quiet for a time, but in the end he will covet my army. That alone you must refuse, even if a blade is set to your throat. If Dong Zhuo seizes every military command in Luoyang, I cannot vouch for what will follow."
The Empress Dowager's face hardened. Yuan Shao's military authority was the only blade that would protect her, and she knew by instinct that if it was taken, it was the end. She remembered how secure she had felt when her elder brother, He Jin, had been General-in-Chief.
"Of course. Naturally. It is the army my brother left behind. I will never let it be taken."
"That is enough. Be at ease."
At Yuan Shao's confident comfort, the Empress Dowager finally let out the breath caught in her throat. And her resentment of Dong Zhuo climbed after it. She had heard the rumors that his insolence pierced the heavens, but facing it herself set her teeth on edge.
"That old man—how can he be so arrogant and lawless? A beast, and nothing else."
"He was born and raised in Liangzhou, where rebellions never cease. Endure a little longer. However I must, I will take power back from him and lay it before Your Majesty."
Yuan Shao bowed his head with all due courtesy. Now that the great mountain called General-in-Chief He Jin had collapsed, the only rope left to the Empress Dowager was Yuan Shao and the Qingliu faction.
"We congratulate you on your ascent to Grand Commandant."
"We offer our felicitations on your ascent to Grand Commandant."
Dong Zhuo's mouth stretched to his ears. The hand that stroked the edict bestowed by the Emperor trembled slightly. The Grand Commandant, one of the Three Excellencies and among the highest offices of Han, held supreme command of the empire's military authority—absolute power, in a word. Now none stood higher than Dong Zhuo but the Emperor himself.
"I've got the hat. Time to fill it with something solid, eh?"
Dong Zhuo's greedy eyes gleamed.
"I mean the soldiers of the General-in-Chief's manor that Yuan Shao carried off. I want them back. What do you think?"
For a moment the hall went still, as if cold water had been thrown across it. The ink on the peace accord struck with Yuan Shao had not even dried, and already he was scheming to stab the man in the back. While the rest sat mute, as if honey had sealed their tongues, one man quietly stepped forward.
Jia Xu.
"Grand Commandant. Haste brings indigestion. Proceed slowly."
"Slowly? How long am I meant to wait? I want them back at once."
"Without a righteous pretext, you are no different from a band of brigands. Use the authority of the Grand Commandant, and press him quietly."
"Press him?"
"Issue a formal order as Grand Commandant, and if he refuses, leave a record. Secure the evidence piece by piece, then thrust it before the Empress Dowager's eyes. Make Yuan Shao's outrages known, and Her Majesty will restore the military authority to you."
Dong Zhuo slapped his knee. The Empress Dowager was little more than a puppet; a pretext was all he needed. Far cleaner than crushing the matter by raw force.
"Oho. That sounds delicious. One month. Set the board within that."
"...A month is far too tight."
"I can't wait any longer."
When Dong Zhuo glared, Jia Xu lowered his head meekly. He knew well that once Dong Zhuo set his mind, he could not be bent.
"I receive your command."
"Wahahaha! Good, good!"
Dong Zhuo twisted his face into something hideous and burst into great laughter. Then he turned his gaze to the empty air. Yuan Shao rose in his mind.
Benchu, my thanks. Because you called me to Luoyang, I get to enjoy this luxury. In return for that kindness, I'll take everything you have. Don't feel wronged. If it still rankles, blame yourself for having no eye for men.
The image of Yuan Shao trembling with rage rose vivid before his eyes, and Dong Zhuo sneered at it. Born and raised in rough Liangzhou, he believed survival mattered more than any great cause. Was this not the result of surviving so tenaciously—the highest power in his grasp? Drive Yuan Shao out, he thought, and no one would dare challenge his authority again.