When Righteous Fervor Turns to Ambition

The fierce righteous fervor had curdled, at last, into the ambition of an age of chaos.

After sending Zhao Yun off into the harsh north, I returned to the quiet rhythm of ordinary days. Under Tian Feng's merciless instruction I sometimes argued the state of the realm with fierce intensity, and in secret I bent every effort toward making the lower officials my own. Whenever an important letter arrived from Father in Luoyang, I pondered it deeply and sent back a reply set down with careful counsel.

The war in Luoyang never strayed so much as a hair from my expectations. It marched steadily down the worst possible path. Had that first diversion succeeded, the balance of the realm might have been overturned in a single stroke; with its failure, the initiative slipped from Father, leader of the league, into the hands of the traitor Dong Zhuo. Father could not bring to heel a command no firmer than loose sand—a coalition of inspectors and grand administrators—and without ever fighting a proper battle he was left to waste the days bound to the camp at Suanzao County.

Open quarrels over who bore the blame for defeat erupted everywhere among the inspectors and grand administrators, and each one further eroded Father's authority.

Then the most dreadful thing I had feared came to pass.

And he shamelessly laid the blame for that blood-reeking slaughter upon Father.

It was cunning, brazen sophistry. Yet the shifting of blame dealt Father's once-mighty authority a wound more fatal still. However one looked at it, the deaths of the Yuan clan could not be called wholly free of his responsibility.

Father burned with the will to fight, as if coughing blood, and denounced Dong Zhuo without restraint. But the forces gathered at Suanzao never truly became one, and the advance on Luoyang was postponed day after day, with no end in sight.

Meanwhile, against all expectation, the startling flame of a reversal blazed up fiercely south of Luoyang. Yuan Shu, General of the Rear, poured without stint the abundant manpower and wealth of Nanyang Commandery into Sun Jian's hands and raised a great army for him. Renewed in strength, Sun Jian drove north toward Luoyang with ferocious momentum, crushed Xu Rong's army south of the capital, and repaid in full the bitter humiliation of before.

Dong Zhuo, pressed to desperation, led a great host out in person—only to return with nothing but the wounds of a crushing defeat. Through Sun Jian's desperate valor, control of Luoyang fell entirely into Yuan Shu's grasp, and Father's authority sank once more. The scholar-officials of the realm still supported Father, the great leader of the Qingliu faction, yet they were powerless to check the sudden, savage momentum Yuan Shu was giving off.

By the middle of the fifth month the weather had grown properly hot. Zhao Yun returned to Ye City, his face drawn with fatigue and caked in dust.

"Young master. I have completed the mission you commanded. I erased every trace cleanly and came back."

"You have truly suffered, Zilong."

Zhao Yun's lips, shut as tight as stone, parted. From deep within his robes he drew an imperial edict wrapped layer upon layer in silk and offered it up. His handsome face, usually so gallant, was filled with a dark and heavy anguish.

"That I, a military man, cut down His Majesty's envoy... I am still deeply confused whether it was truly right. Young master, I beg you—govern with a bright and righteous hand, so that in days to come what I have done may be judged a righteous act for the sake of the realm."

Hearing that heavy confession, I felt a cold draft pass through me.

Zhao Yun. In history he was the man who left Han Fu for Gongsun Zan, then abandoned Gongsun ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Zan's mighty power for Liu Bei, who was far weaker, changing masters without a backward glance. The sole and absolute standard by which he chose a lord was not shallow power. It was only the great righteous cause, and what was right.

What matters most to Zhao Yun is the justice of the act. This assassination, set against his upright nature, was by no means a righteous deed. It was possible only because he trusted me so fiercely. If I cannot prove that this affair was for the sake of the realm, this fearsome general will leave me without regret whenever he chooses.

I rose slowly from my seat and took both of Zhao Yun's hands in a warm, firm grip, meeting those stubborn, unbending eyes straight on.

"Zilong. How could I fail to understand an anguish so heavy and so noble? I am sorry to have set you walking so fearful a road."

"Young master..."

"If, in days to come, my governance is stained by a cruel and private lust for power, and your upright heart begins to waver, then leave without hesitation. But that day will not come. It is said that if you would know a man's worth, look at the road he has walked. Remember the course I have shown you, and you will not waver."

There was no falsehood mixed into my voice—only a clear and transparent sincerity.

"Remember those desperate days, when I set Ren Jun, Diannong Sima, at the fore, broke duntian military farms out of barren soil, threw open the granaries of the powerful, and put warm rice into the mouths of subjects starving to death. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blood you shed today—I, Yuan Shang, will prove that it was the most brilliant and sacred cornerstone, the stone that will one day comfort the starving people of the realm and save this age of chaos."

When my sincerity reached him, the unrest in Zhao Yun's eyes settled into calm. His face, frozen like ice, softened as spring snow melts. Inwardly, I let out a breath of relief.

Making a man truly one's own was this difficult.

"Because I know to my bones that you are not a man who would exploit the people for private desire, this officer obeyed that heavy command with no selfish thought of his own. Your stern promise—I, Zhao Yun, will carve it into my heart and remember it. Then this officer will return at once to the training ground and raise the elite cavalry that will be your blade."

"If you need them, do not spare the military funds. Recruit a still greater force. In raising and protecting my own people, I am never stingy."

"I receive your command!"

Zhao Yun acknowledged the order in a voice more loyal than ever, then withdrew, his back a reassuring sight. Watching the fierce general who had at last become wholly mine, I allowed myself a faint smile. Of course, I must never show him a wrong face after this. If I did, Zhao Yun would leave without so much as a glance behind him. Only when I stilled the confusion and governed for the people rather than for myself would the civil and military officials, Zhao Yun among them, remain and support me in earnest. I felt the weight settle on my shoulders.

In the quiet of the residence after he had gone, I coldly unfolded the bloodstained edict upon the writing desk. Just as I had expected, the text appointed Gongsun Du Grand Administrator of Liaodong Commandery.

"Absurd."

Upon that barren yet vital northern stronghold, I had to seat my own man, no matter what. The Gongsun clan was plainly the foremost house of Liaodong Commandery, but without an edict they could never lay hold of absolute power. Gongsun Du was the very man who, after rising to grand administrator, massacred hundreds of commoners to seize that power. Thinking of it, the weight on my heart lightened a little.

Tian Feng could not possibly have failed to know that I had moved Zhao Yun and the cavalry for my own ends. Yet though he guessed I had some plan, he never pressed me on the matter. I had used my private troops, not the army of the Jizhou Inspectorate—an unspoken pressure that if anything went wrong, I was to bear the responsibility alone. Tian Feng was my man, and at the same time an official who drew a merciless line between public duty and private interest, placing the safety of the Jizhou Inspectorate above all else.

In the sixth month, when sultry heat began to scorch the earth, Dong Zhuo—driven into a corner—at last crossed a line that must never be crossed. He set fire to Luoyang, the imperial capital that held two hundred years of the Han's brilliant history, and forced the court to move to Chang'an.

The vast capital, whose altars of soil and grain had endured two centuries, burned wretchedly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in crimson flame, and countless loyal ministers who wept blood opposing the move were cut down beneath merciless blades. Even the imperial mausoleums and the tombs of emperors of former generations were ruthlessly dug open and looted by the Liangzhou troops. Dong Zhuo reduced the ash-heap of Luoyang to one vast military base.

Through that hot, brutal summer, the fracture of the allied army stationed at Suanzao quickened beyond anyone's power to stop. The moment the grain that was to feed two hundred thousand soldiers and laborers ran out, the sound of rupture burst from every quarter. In particular the quarrel between Liu Dai, Inspector of Yanzhou, and Qiao Mao, Grand Administrator of Dong Commandery, worsened until they stood on the verge of battle, and though Father himself stepped in to mediate, the grudge would not easily settle. However great his renown, the Jizhou Inspectorate could not conjure from empty air the grain to feed two hundred thousand. The catastrophe had been foreseen.

Amid the bitter chaos at Suanzao, Sun Jian—who had spent the whole summer grinding his teeth and preparing for battle—launched a full-scale advance north when the ninth month came. Dong Zhuo likewise wrung out every soldier he had left in the hope of crushing him, but in the end he could not surmount that great mountain of vengeance and suffered a miserable, total defeat. At last he abandoned even Luoyang and withdrew to Chang'an.

Sun Jian recovered the Luoyang he had so longed for, yet to embrace a ruin that held neither the Son of Heaven nor Dong Zhuo was, strategically, a glory of nothing but wounds. In the end he abandoned Luoyang and fell back to Luyang County.

In the tenth month, a hideous disaster put a perfect end to the sand-grain coalition at Suanzao. Liu Dai, Inspector of Yanzhou, at last slew Qiao Mao, Grand Administrator of Dong Commandery, and absorbed his army and his grain. By then the objective called Dong Zhuo had already vanished, and any pretext for remaining at Suanzao had run dry. Taking this tragedy as their signal, the inspectors and grand administrators invented excuses one after another and set out for home with their troops.

The inspectors and grand administrators of Guandong had united in a righteous fervor that seemed to pierce the heavens, yet they withdrew without ever achieving the aim they had set out to win.

Ye City. When word arrived that Father would return with the army, Tian Feng directed the officials in preparations to receive him. On a day when a cool autumn wind brushed the collar, I sat facing Tian Feng, and we held a fierce discussion of this Guandong Uprising.

The Guandong Uprising—a righteous rising east of the passes. At some point Father had taken to keeping the phrase forever on his lips, as if to justify the great undertaking he himself had set in motion.

"Master Tian. The realm will never return to the peaceful age of before. Of that I am certain."

Tian Feng said nothing.

"The Jizhou Inspectorate must now become the center, and steady this disordered realm by force and by authority. And in days to come we must drive an elite army all the way to Chang'an, sweep away the traitor Dong Zhuo and his remnants without leaving a one, and escort His Majesty back to Luoyang."

When I declared it with unwavering eyes, the corners of Tian Feng's eyes trembled as he held his teacup. His rational mind would have found it hard to agree at once to so vast a plan, yet he did not rashly refute me. For months we had sat facing each other every few days to debate the pressing issues of the hour, and the predictions I had cast then—predictions that had seemed wild and groundless—had become reality.

Of course I had never spoken aloud tragedies such as the extermination of the Yuan clan. Even so, every time my words became reality, Tian Feng could not hide his astonishment.

"Master Tian. Do you think my words a baseless, empty delusion?"

"Honestly, I find them difficult to accept. And yet, strangely, I find myself trusting that thought of yours."

It was a truly contradictory answer to come from the cool-headed Tian Feng. When I tilted my head, he smiled faintly and went on.

"You show an insight so chilling that you could spread a mat in the marketplace this very moment and tell fortunes. What choice do I have but to believe you firmly for now? Still, as an official of the Jizhou Inspectorate, this man intends to prepare for the day your foresight goes awry. Haha. More than that... the subject I truly wish to raise with you today is another matter. It is rather heavy."

"Yes. Please speak freely."

I set aside the pleased smile, sat upright, and gave Tian Feng my whole attention. Knowing his character, if he put it in those words, the matter would be exceedingly difficult.

"In the tragedy that has just unfolded in Luoyang, the Yuan clan was butchered, and some lines were cut off entirely. His Lordship feels a moral responsibility for this dreadful calamity, and he is consumed by guilt. In particular he grieves bitterly that the house of his own elder brother, the Grand Coachman Yuan, has been extinguished... and he will exert himself, in one way or another, to continue that broken line and resolve the matter."

Grand Coachman Yuan Ji—Father's full elder brother, and the eldest son of Yuan Feng. Father had been Yuan Feng's second son, but he had been entered in the registers as the adopted son of Yuan Cheng, who died early. Thus Yuan Ji had continued the main line as eldest son, until Dong Zhuo's slaughter cut that line short.

In that instant a fragment of history from my previous life flashed through my mind.

Ah...! The histories recorded that the eldest son, my elder brother Yuan Tan, was expelled from the family and adopted as his uncle's son. At the time I never clearly knew who that uncle was. It was Uncle Yuan Ji. Perhaps Father means to break the strict principle of succession by the eldest son and clear my road with exquisite care—sending my elder brother off as our uncle's adopted son, so that I may inherit Jizhou whole!

It was the moment a piece of history, unsolved for a long time, fitted perfectly into place. But I crushed the surging joy beneath cold reason.

It is still too soon to rest easy. Father will not make a decision this grave, one that divides blood, in a single day. He will weigh it over a long time, and my elder brother Yuan Tan will watch from Father's side for any chance he can seize. From this moment I must contest power with him. Striking enemies beyond our borders comes after that. For now, I stake everything on seizing the whole of the power of Hebei for myself.

Tens of thousands of cold calculations whirled through my head, and the muscles of my face twitched faintly. Tian Feng stared straight at me and asked.

"What thought has drawn you so deep?"

"Ah... I was merely considering how we might stabilize Hebei as swiftly as possible ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and raise a powerful army. If we can secure, intact, the vast manpower and material wealth of a Hebei forged firmly into one... I believe His Lordship will be fully capable of steadying this disordered realm."

"Hah..."

Tian Feng threw up his hands as if there were no restraining me, and burst into a helpless laugh.

"It seems this Tian Feng has nothing left to teach you, young master. Truly remarkable."

"Not at all. I am forever in debt to your deep wisdom, and I learn from it without end. Please continue to guide me strictly at my side."

I bowed my head with sincere courtesy toward Tian Feng, the man who would one day underpin my great enterprise. Knowledge of the future let me see several moves ahead of others, yet Tian Feng's orthodox scholarship and keen eye moved me to deep admiration at every moment. In true ability at the work of government, and in scholarship, I could not dare to match him.

"Well then, let us set aside our worries for the realm for a moment... Shall we begin today's lesson, the Book of Rites?"

I smiled warmly and opened the book upon the desk wide. Seeing that I had taken the warning to heart, Tian Feng advised me no further.