To Ye
"You will set down every soldier of the Sili Xiaowei's command here, and go."
Lu Bu fixed Yuan Shao with a cutting glare and thrust out a thick palm. It was a cold, arrogant demand that the seal of the Sili Xiaowei be handed over at once. Yuan Shao had yielded that post and received in its place the new title of Inspector of Jizhou, so by every formal measure the demand was entirely just.
Even so, his insides burned black. To surrender so vainly the emblem of the unchecked power of oversight he had wielded over the Sili Xiaowei's jurisdiction—Luoyang, the imperial capital, among it—brought a regret like bone being pared away.
"......Here."
The heavy bronze seal left Yuan Shao's hand and settled into Lu Bu's grip. It was enough to split a man with rage, but there was no help for it. Dong Zhuo had threatened, with a blade's edge in his voice, that if his will were crossed he would pull the Yuan clan up by the roots. Remembering the cruelty of a man who changed even emperors to suit himself, one could not pass it off as empty bluster.
Swallowing the bitterness, Yuan Shao forced his thoughts onto colder arithmetic.
Perhaps this is for the best.
The officers who commanded the troops under the Sili Xiaowei were men rooted in Luoyang. Drag them by force all the way north to Ye County in Jizhou, and they were as likely to turn as to follow. At his side now stood a hundred loyal household soldiers of the clan, nine hundred elite guards of the capital, and the three hundred swift cavalry Zhang Liao had newly brought under his banner. One thousand three hundred in all.
Hardly a small number. These are faithful hands who trusted me and followed through mortal danger. Is that not a hundred times better than beginning from nothing in Ye County?
Yuan Shao crushed down the unease churning through him and told himself, again and again, that he could do this. Even so—was it the weight of a disordered realm pressing on his shoulders, and the blankness of the road ahead? Before he knew it, his heavy steps were drawn as if under a spell toward his youngest son, Yuan Shang.
Father entered the quarters with a heavy tread. I rose at once, brought my hands neatly together, offered a respectful salute, and gestured him to the seat of honor at the innermost place.
He dropped into it, brow deeply knit, and delivered the news in few words.
"Inspector of Jizhou. What do you think?"
"First, I ought to offer my congratulations."
"This is no cause for simple joy. The momentum of Gongsun Zan, the so-called Tiger of Liaoxi, stands quite unrivaled. And since it is Dong Zhuo bestowing the office, he will certainly use it to check your father."
A deep weariness lay in his voice. I slid a teacup carefully toward him and smiled.
"Father. Gongsun Zan will snarl like a wolf and try to hem us in, but he will not be able to send an army and do anything to Jizhou just yet."
"Because he lacks a pretext?"
"Yes. To snatch another man's rice bowl, one needs a plausible excuse. For now, the justification simply is not there."
Father nodded, but the furrow between his brows refused to ease. If that madman Dong Zhuo—who had deposed an emperor in broad daylight on nothing but his own whim—were to set Gongsun Zan on from behind the scenes, there was no telling from which quarter the wind of blades might strike. I wanted to lighten the weight on those shoulders.
"Even a tiger with blood on its whiskers grooms its fur quietly once its belly is full. Dong Zhuo seized power with the sword, but has he not now risen to a seat below one man and above ten thousand? By now he must be desperate not for the flood of curses and abuse, but for praise—for recognition as a worthy man of power."
"Would that madman truly be so?"
"Yes. I am certain of it. So for a while, he will at least play at being a gentleman."
At that firm answer Father studied me for a long moment, then let out a short sigh that broke into a wry laugh.
"Heh. Your father has shown a sorry weakness before his son. And you, eleven years old, with more nerve than I."
"I am hardly an ordinary eleven, am I?"
"Aye. That's true. Well done. My son."
Only then did a warm smile come to his face, and his large hand rubbed roughly over my head. Seeing the turmoil in his eyes settle at last, I felt the knot in my own chest come undone. Nothing pleased me more than a peaceful face on one of my own.
"Father."
"Go on. Speak."
"When you reach Ye, make full use of an Inspector of Jizhou's power of oversight. You must take the grand administrators of the nine commanderies and the county magistrates into your grip as quickly as you can, and shake them."
"Look at this boy. Worrying over your father for him. You needn't fret about that."
A thick confidence spread across his mouth. And well it might. This was a father even Dong Zhuo had not dared treat lightly. I might toss him thin bits of counsel borrowed from knowledge of the future, but measured by the sheer size of the vessel, by the art of rule alone, I was the one who ought to be taking lessons.
"Might I ask what net you mean to use to bind them?"
"If it is my Shang, there is no harm in your knowing. Learn it from now—how your father puts men to use. First, I mean to set Guo Tu to digging out every stinking corruption of those grand administrators and magistrates, down to the last coin."
Damn it. I clicked my tongue inwardly. Guo Tu, of all men. If the choice were mine, he was the dangerous one whose head I would take first—and Father meant instead to put a keen sword-hilt in his hand.
When my expression tightened, ever so slightly, Father asked with evident interest.
"What is it? Does the man not sit well with you?"
"Uncle Guo's eyes look sinister. I cannot bring myself to trust him."
"Ha—hahahaha!"
Father threw his head all the way back and laughed, open and booming. Tears even gathered at the corners of his eyes.
"My Shang has a fine eye for men! You're right. Just as you say—there is a snake coiled in that one's belly. A thoroughly vicious creature."
"Then why entrust him with so important a hilt?"
"If I mean to finish looking into those old snakes of grand administrators and magistrates as quickly as possible and gouge out their weaknesses, I need a hunting dog every bit as vicious as the work."
"Xu You idles when he should not. Feng Ji and Xun Chen are too soft. Xin Pi has no give in him and will snap, and Xin Ping has ability but is middling. So what am I to do? The only man who will roll in the mud right now and come up covered in filth is Guo Tu."
It was an assessment of men as thorough as it was cold. I let a thread of worry show.
"I only fear that Uncle Guo will trust in that blade and take real power into his own hands."
"He might."
In an instant Father's voice sank, cold.
"But the moment he crosses the line I have drawn and falls from my sight, his life is finished. Challenge your father's authority, and I forgive no one."
The air in the room seemed to freeze. The ruthless killing intent pouring from Father's bright eyes scraped across my skin and raised the flesh. It was an absolute pressure that only the head of a great house—and the man who would one day be hegemon of the north—could give off.
But that fearsome aura scattered in a breath. Father returned to the face of a fond parent and smiled.
"Do you think your father cannot even control a single hunting dog?"
Before that fierce confidence, I raised no further objection about Guo Tu.
Yes. Guo Tu can be driven out slowly, once I have grown my own strength. That is not what matters now.
I ordered my thoughts quickly and spoke again.
"Father. The greater the work, the more men of talent one needs. Before we leave Luoyang, would it not be wise to gather the useful ones to your side?"
"Hm. Is there someone who has caught your eye?"
"Xun You, Gentleman-Attendant of the Yellow Gates; Xun Yu, Prefect of the Palace Stores; and Zhong Yao, clerk on the staff of the Minister over the Masses. Every one of them is an extraordinary talent."
"Hm..."
But contrary to my hopes, Father's response was tepid. He looked entirely untempted.
"If you insist, I will send each of them a letter, for now."
"A letter? Would it not be a hundred times better if you went to them yourself, paid them the proper courtesy, and asked?"
For all my earnest urging, Father shook his head with finality. Then, setting a large hand on my shoulder, he laid bare without filter the arrogance of a great house sunk into his very bones.
"Shang'er. Mark your father's words well."
"Yes."
"However heaven-sent a talent may be, you must never be the one to bow your head, go to him, and take him into service. You make them crawl to your feet of their own accord and knock their brows to the ground. For that, one needs a power so vast none can approach it. Your father will raise you to that dizzying height first."
An unbending conviction burned in his eyes.
Ah. So that is how it is.
A sigh slipped out of me before I could stop it. So this was why, in the history I knew, Xun Yu and Guo Jia had come all the way to Jizhou seeking Father, only to grow sick of that arrogance and slip away into Cao Cao's embrace. But the fierce creed blazing before my eyes now was not something an eleven-year-old son's tongue could break.
I bowed my head low.
"I will engrave Father's teaching deep in my heart."
I had managed, somehow, to keep a thread of fate tied to Guo Jia, though I could not swear how that thread would end. Xun Yu and Xun You seemed gone for good, across the water and out of reach. With Father carrying himself so arrogantly, those proud geniuses would never come seeking to serve a master who was merely eleven.
Even so, it was all right. In Jizhou the great trees still stood—Ju Shou and Tian Feng.
While I was still soothing that regret, Father smiled brightly, as if proud of me.
"There. Blood will tell—you catch the sense of a word with frightening ease."
He was smiling, thoroughly pleased. Inside, I wanted to wail out loud.
The preparations for the long march to Ye were complete. Counting the retainers who trusted and followed Yuan Shao, together with their families, the train of carts, men, and horses stretched very long, and the numbers cleared two thousand with room to spare.
Even amid that bustle, Yuan Shao's gaze clung to one man who was turning his horse's head.
"Mengde. Will you truly leave it like this?"
He asked once more, thick with regret, that Cao Cao come along. But Cao Cao shook his head, wearing that easy smile of his.
"I'd like to go down to my home and rest, the way Yidu has. And I need to think again about what kind of life is the right one. In any case, congratulations. If it's you, Benchu, you'll make a fine shepherd of the people."
"If you ever change your mind, come to Ye. Your place will always be kept empty."
"I'll take only the kindness. Let's both live, and meet again."
Yidu was Kuai Yue's courtesy name. Thinking of Kuai Yue, who had left Luoyang and withdrawn to Xiangyang County, Cao Cao refused Yuan Shao's offer without lingering regret. He led the men who followed him south, toward Qiao County, his home.
Yuan Shao was watching the dust recede, a bitter taste in his mouth, when a cold shadow came up beside him without a sound. It was his half-brother, Yuan Shu.
"The look of a man in flight is quite a sight."
Yuan Shu twisted the corner of his mouth and provoked him in a low voice barbed with thorns. The stiffness in Yuan Shao's face smoothed back into calm.
"There is no need to grate on the Grand Commandant's temper, so I am merely stepping aside for a time. It is what he wanted as well."
"A fine-sounding excuse. You've taken fright and tucked your tail. Isn't that it?"
"Gonglu, think what you like. I consider the true contest not even begun."
Yuan Shao looked down at him with a steady, unshaken gaze. That arrogant ease raked mercilessly across Yuan Shu's sense of inferiority. Yuan Shu brought his face close and rebuked him in a low voice.
"Don't get insolent! Thrash and strut all you like out there—you are a concubine's get. The true heir who carries the blood of the Yuan house is me!"
Yuan Shu's bloodshot eyes flashed, vicious. From the start he had regarded Yuan Shao, a son by a concubine, as little more than a bug beneath his feet. Yet by the extreme feat of observing two three-year mournings in succession, Yuan Shao had won the praise of the realm's Confucian scholars and scholar-gentry, and had risen at a stroke to stand as a leading figure of the Qingliu faction. And now, far from losing his head in Dong Zhuo's rampage, he had seized the ripe plum of the Inspectorship of Jizhou and was turning north. Watching it, Yuan Shu's insides burned black with envy.
"Let us see each other in ten years."
Yuan Shao's smile was faint, and cold.
"Gonglu. Even after ten years, you will not surpass me."
"Wh—what...!"
"Live diligently. A man's true worth is shown not by a paltry mouth, but by his deeds and their results."
He patted the frozen Yuan Shu's shoulder twice, for all to see, then turned without regret and mounted his horse.
"March!"
Yuan Shao's ringing command fell. Yuan Shu wanted to draw his sword that instant and roar, but he could only clench a fist that trembled. Two thousand gazes, spread all around, were turned on him. The pride and dignity of being the legitimate heir of a great house clamped a heavy shackle on what he could do.
Glancing back at his old enemy, standing there with the face of a man who had bitten into a bug, Yuan Shao felt a decade's congestion drop clean out of his chest, and a fierce satisfaction rise in its place.