Steeling the Resolve
"I will weigh it through tomorrow, and then I will decide. Argue it no further."
Yuan Shao broke off and let his gaze travel the men seated before him.
"And have their every movement searched out. The Ten Attendants above all. They are every bit as desperate as we are, and like Jian Shuo, there is no telling what they may attempt."
At that frost-edged command the air in the chamber sank heavy. Regret was plain on the strategists' faces, but once their lord had given the order, duty was to obey without another word.
The rush of departing feet faded, and Yuan Shao was left alone in the emptied room. He furrowed his brow and let out a long sigh.
The scheme Guo Tu and Xu You had laid before him was a double-edged sword in the truest sense. Succeed, and the eunuchs could be stamped out, root and seed. Fail, and the entire house would be gambling with a destruction it could not escape.
What am I to do?
In the midst of that stifled frustration, as he dragged a dry hand down his face, his youngest son's face flashed through his mind without warning.
I must be mad. To a boy of eleven.
He shook his head hard, trying to cast the thought off, but the afterimage that had burrowed into his skull clung like a leech and would not let go. Had the child not already given him two answers that left him speechless? Reason, insisting it was absurd, crossed with a hope that whispered what if.
In the end Yuan Shao shoved himself up from his seat.
"Father."
At the sound of someone entering, he looked up — and a mountain of a man was standing there. I closed the book I had been reading, rose at once, and paid my respects.
"Were you at your studies?"
"Yes."
"The Mencius already? I thought you'd only just finished the Analects."
"The more I read, the more I find I don't know. I can't tell whether I'm making progress or marching in place."
At that grumbling, wrapped as it was in modesty, the corner of Father's mouth lifted in pleasure. He had known his youngest was bright — but not like this. He looked down at me with pride and a pang of pity tangled together in his eyes.
A brief silence passed. Father cleared his throat several times, then, hesitating, came to the point.
"Shang'er. There's something I want to ask you."
"Please, ask."
"The Ten Attendants. They still cling to power like parasites and eat the realm hollow. What would you do about them?"
I blinked. Asking an eleven-year-old about the state of the realm. How cornered must he be, to come to this? Should I dodge it the way a child would, or drive straight to the heart of it? My eyes met the unrest in his.
No. He didn't come here to sound me out.
Just as I was about to speak, Father waved a hand first.
"Never mind. I asked something far too hard. Go back to your studies."
He turned to leave, looking sheepish. I caught his sleeve in a hurry.
"Don't give the law a thought."
"What?"
"Law and procedure are for people. You don't stand on courtesy when you're killing a beast, do you? Don't be choosy about the means. Cut them out."
Father's eyes went wide.
"Don't be choosy about the means? How, exactly?"
Damn.
Father bit his lip. Shame had struck him — he had shown a child his weakness. I smiled, bright and easy, and slipped into the opening.
"Oh, come on. That's a question for your strategists. What would I know?"
"Ha. Look at this boy."
Father snorted a laugh and ruffled my hair — rough, but warm. Through that broad palm the weight of his expectations came through, heavy and plain.
"No more and no less. Grow up just like this."
"I'll do my best."
"Good. I believe you."
He opened the door on a step that had grown noticeably lighter.
"Father."
"What is it?"
"Even a rat, once it's cornered, will bite a cat. Please be careful."
At my worried warning he laughed, broad and easy.
"Your father is no cat. He's a tiger. Don't worry."
When he had passed entirely from sight, I sat back down. The child's smile that had hung at my mouth evaporated in an instant.
Now it begins.
In the end Dong Zhuo would seize power, and Father would leave for Jizhou. I had no intention of stopping that current. Cutting away rotten flesh is not enough. The bone itself has to be scraped out and a new one set in its place. The Han was finished. Force a resuscitation, and you only drag the agony out. New wine belongs in a new skin.
And the one who held that skin must be neither Cao Cao, nor Liu Bei, nor Sun Quan. It had to be our Yuan clan. More precisely — Father, and me.
The eldest will fall from Father's favor, and the second brother hasn't the vessel to weather an age of chaos.
Knowing a past life, I had no rival. Time was the only problem.
With my thoughts in order, I called for Wen Chong at once.
"You called, young master?"
Wen Chong entered and bowed from the waist. He kept to my side in silence, like my own shadow.
"Luoyang's going to be turned upside down before long. Put the books aside and throw yourself into martial training."
"Understood."
"And this."
I tossed him the pouch of silver I had set aside. At the solid weight of it, Wen Chong's eyes went wide.
"Recruit more able-bodied men. And feed them well while they train, so they don't go hungry. I won't have my people starving to death."
"I'll remember it."
Wen Chong could not hide how the words moved him, and he bowed deep. Plenty of lords handed out coin. Few worried whether their men ate. That was enough.
After he withdrew, I turned my eyes to the window. All my hand could reach, for now, was this one room, and Wen Chong.
"If I were the eldest, I could have done so much more."
Had I already been past twenty, I would have opened a far wider board. But the bitterness lasted only a moment. I shook my head hard and cast the brooding off. Regretting what cannot be done is only a waste of time. All I could do was win with the tiles already in my hand, and win as well as they could be played.
"Have you lost your mind?"
He Jin shot up as if scalded. A teacup clattered and overturned across the table. Yuan Shao did not so much as blink. If anything he grew calmer, and met He Jin's eyes straight on.
"They have a blade at your throat, General. Is this the hour to stand on dignity?"
"Even so, this goes too far! Burn Mengjin, whole and sound as it is? If the common people are hurt and killed, how do you mean to bear their resentment?"
"Turn that resentment on the Ten Attendants, and it is finished."
Yuan Shao took one step in, close.
"General. Do you know why the Ten Attendants are still alive? Because they hide in the folds of Her Majesty the Empress Dowager's skirts. Worse — with coin they have already won over your own mother, the Lady of Wuyang, and even your half-brother, the General of Chariots and Cavalry."
"Th-that is..."
"You cannot even keep your own house in order. This will not be settled by politely submitting a memorial. Overturn the board, and only then can you drag them out."
He Jin's eyes wavered. Yuan Shao did not miss the opening. He drove the wedge home.
"The plan is sound. When the Inspector of Bingzhou burns Mengjin, I will spend every connection I have to spread the word that it was the work of the Heishan Bandits. All of Luoyang will be seized with terror, and if we then impeach the eunuchs for it, Her Majesty will have no means left to hold."
"And the aftermath? The Inspector of Bingzhou and the General of the Front — those savage wolves — do you imagine they will withdraw so meekly?"
"Do not be afraid. They are only hunting dogs. Once the rabbit is caught, we send them back into the kennel. Without a just cause, if they linger, what are they but rebels?"
He Jin swallowed dry. It was dangerous. But the reward was sweet. Yuan Shao's voice wound itself around his ear, neat as a devil's whisper.
"General. How long do you mean to remain nothing more than the Empress Dowager's elder brother?"
"......"
"You should cut down the traitors of this troubled age, save the House of Han, and leave your name in the histories as a hero."
The word hero set a fire in He Jin's chest. He had risen to General-in-Chief on the reflected glory of his sister, and in one corner of his heart there had always been the sense that he had not earned it. Sweep away the eunuchs and become the true first man of the realm. The mere imagining sent a thrill through him.
He Jin slammed the table.
"Fine. We'll do it."
"A superb decision."
"But there must be no loose ends. Draw the plan tight — very tight. If so much as one hole opens, you'll answer for it with your life."
"I will bear it in mind."
Yuan Shao curled the corner of his mouth, ever so slightly, and offered a crisp military salute. Already, in his eyes, Mengjin was burning.
When Yuan Shao set the details of the plan before his strategists, the reaction split clean down the middle. Guo Tu and Xu You grinned ear to ear, declaring that the hour had come at last, while Feng Ji and Xin Pi dragged dry hands down their faces and breathed out long sighs. But the die was cast.
At once Yuan Shao summoned, in secret, the two men he trusted most: Cao Cao and Kuai Yue. Wine had been laid, yet no one lifted a cup.
"Are you in your right mind?"
It was Kuai Yue who broke the silence. The voice that was usually so cold and clear trembled thin with anger.
"Middle Colonel. Command of the troops in Luoyang rests with the General-in-Chief. And you would call a pack of outside wolves — frontier commanders you cannot control — into the imperial capital? This is burning down the whole thatched house to kill a few bedbugs."
"Raising a tiger because you're afraid of the wolves."
Cao Cao clicked his tongue and piled on. Yuan Shao, unperturbed, emptied his cup.
"Nothing short of a remedy that harsh will get the General-in-Chief up off his seat. And don't worry. I won't bring them inside the city. Frighten them, then send them back. That is all."
"Do not be so sure of yourself!"
Kuai Yue slammed the table. Wine slopped over and soaked the wood.
"The unknowns are not one or two. The General of the Front is an ambitious man with treason in his heart. Once he scents power and comes running, he is not a man who will come when the Middle Colonel calls and go when the Middle Colonel dismisses him! Stop this at once."
"I have already received the General-in-Chief's approval."
At that flat answer the color drained from Kuai Yue's face. He stared at Yuan Shao, blank, then rose without a shred of lingering attachment.
"It seems my bond with Lord Yuan ends here."
"Lord Kuai! Why do this — calm yourself..."
"I will return to the country. I have no wish to watch Luoyang burn with my own eyes."
Before Yuan Shao could catch him, Kuai Yue flung the door open and was gone. Yuan Shao looked at the shut door, and his expression was bitter.
With only the two of them left, they dropped into the ease of courtesy names.
"Benchu. Are you truly all right with this?"
Cao Cao asked it with his chin propped on one hand. Worry filled his eyes as well. Yuan Shao tossed back what wine remained in a single swallow.
"There's no other way. Leave the Ten Attendants alive, and we're the ones who die. You know it too, Mengde."
"I know. I know, but... we might have pressed the General-in-Chief a little further."
"That vacillating gentleman? Not a chance. Give him ten years and he still wouldn't do it."
Yuan Shao held his empty cup out to Cao Cao.
"Help me. I need you."
Cao Cao looked at him for a long, quiet moment. It was madness. Kuai Yue was right a hundred times over. But they were wound too deep into this to pull their feet free now.
"Damn it."
Cao Cao let out a hollow laugh and knocked his cup against Yuan Shao's.
"All right. Let's go mad together. For the Han."
"For the Han."
A clear, bright crack rang through the room, precarious as glass.
Luoyang in the eighth month was one vast steamer. A swelter in which sweat ran down the spine even if a man stood still. Yet even that heat could not cover the chill of killing intent laid over the city's streets.
"Uncle Yan!"
The moment I saw the huge man stepping into the courtyard, I scampered over and threw myself into his arms.
Yan Liang. Father's closest man, and a weapon in human form. He stiffened for a heartbeat at the sudden embrace, then scrubbed my head with a hand the size of a cauldron lid.
"Have you been well?"
"Me? Same as ever. And you, Uncle? You've wasted away to half."
"Ha — half, he says."
Yan Liang gave a wry smile and swept a look around them. The playful light in his eyes turned razor-sharp in an instant.
"Stay indoors for a while. The air out there is bad."
"I know. So it's finally starting."
At that calm reply his brow twitched. He did not ask further. He came to the point.
"I came to take that Wen Chou brat with me."
"Ah — Huicheng?"
"Huicheng?"
"Wen Chou is just too ugly a name. So I gave him a new one. The name is Chong, for loyalty, and the courtesy name is Huicheng — so that he might fulfill his aims with wisdom."
Yan Liang blinked, blank. A new name for that bandit-faced brute of a Wen Chou was already too much — and a courtesy name on top of it.
"Seems a bit much for the likes of him."
"Come on, he's my man. The least he deserves is a decent name."
"That much is true."
Yan Liang snorted a laugh and nodded. The words my man were enough.
"I'll be taking Wen Chong, then."
"Yes. And while you're at it, take the soldiers too."
"Soldiers?"
"Able men Huicheng has been training since a couple of months back. About twenty of them. They'll earn their keep."
Yan Liang's expression turned peculiar. A mere twenty. On a battlefield where tens of thousands came and went, it was a number like dust. But I added it with my eyes bright.
"In a fight through the streets, how men fit together matters more than how many there are."
In that instant Yan Liang's eyes widened. He understood at once. This battlefield would not be open ground. It would be the tangled streets of Luoyang.
"You knew?"
"Well... if we're going to catch the Ten Attendants, I figured it was going to get loud."
It was not a thing that ought to come from an eleven-year-old's mouth. Yan Liang looked down at me with something past admiration — something closer to awe. Without a word he clapped my shoulder twice. A heavy, wordless show of trust.
"So there was a reason Lord Yuan treasures you."
"I just have to be a son who earns his keep."
"Look after yourself. It really is dangerous."
"You too, Uncle. Don't get hurt."
Yan Liang gave a short nod and vanished without looking back. A grim resolve clung to the line of his back.
"Wen Chong."
At Yan Liang's low call, Wen Chong answered at once. A disciplined stance. A gaze that did not waver. Yan Liang narrowed his eyes and looked that great frame over.
Well. Look at him.
If the old Wen Chong had been a bear that was nothing but strength, what stood here now was an axe ground to a cold blue edge. It was not merely that muscle had been laid on. Cold clarity had been driven into his eyes. What in the world had the youngest young master done to this bear of a man?
The twenty-odd men formed up behind Wen Chong were the same. Killing intent hung thick on them, and yet they were not noisy. They had the feel of men who had been trained well. The corner of Yan Liang's mouth curled, just a little.
"What have you been doing with yourself?"
"Martial training by day. Reading by night."
"Reading?"
Yan Liang snorted. Letters, from the mouth of a lowborn swordsman.
"You groaning over a brush — that must have been a sight."
"At first the sword was heavier than the brush. These days the brush is heavy enough in its own right."
"Ha. Even your backtalk has improved."
Even under the joking rebuke, Wen Chong did not waver. Yan Liang liked that solidity. He asked, in a voice he made deliberately stern:
"Who is your commander?"
"The third young master of the Yuan clan."
Not one second of hesitation in the answer. Yan Liang nodded, satisfied.
"Remember this. No master grants a courtesy name to a lowborn wretch and teaches him noble letters besides. Born again, you would not meet another like him."
"I'll carve it into my bones and not forget. Even if my head comes off, there will be no betrayal."
"Good. That's enough. Let's go."
Yan Liang asked nothing more and turned. The things he wanted to know were piled high as a mountain, but this was not the hour to indulge curiosity.