Slaying Pretexts for True Gains
In the misty dawn haze still clinging to Go Ong's mansion, Seowon stared at his cooling teacup. Go Ong's talents had drawn gasps of admiration from him time and again, yet the man himself had rarely granted him an audience. Only polite refusals had followed, one after another.
But yesterday, Go Ong had sent a servant first. It was the first time he'd summoned Seowon ahead of schedule. Curious about the reason, Seowon didn't rush. He knelt on the garden pavilion bench. Spotting him, Go Ong rose and offered a formal bow. Seowon returned it with clasped hands before sitting opposite.
Only when the teapot ran dry did Go Ong finally speak.
"Taishou Wang Lang of Hwegye is a disciple of Yang Biao, who once served as Grand Tutor. He's well-versed in the classics, his talents rivaling the Three Dukes. His reputation already echoes across the realm. If the Governor-General strikes him down, the scholars will turn their backs."
Seowon set down his empty cup and asked softly, "Does Master Yuan Tan believe I'll go to sever his head?"
Go Ong stared piercingly at Seowon without reply. Seowon let out a wry chuckle.
"I won't harm him. But Hwegye must be taken. In your eyes, Master, what pretext do you think I have to strike Wang Lang?"
Go Ong fiddled with his cup before speaking gravely.
"The Master said that without a firm pretext, words lack persuasion and endeavors fail. Wang Lang serves the court. The moment you strike him, the world will brand Lord Yuan a usurper. What's the use of gaining land at the cost of the people's hearts? Better to seek peace now and pursue stability—that is the way of the scholar."
"Peace... Master Yuan Tan, the Master's words are indeed wise. Yet he also said to enrich the people before instructing them. Is it the sages' intent to lecture on rites to those starving and selling their children?"
Seowon straightened his back, locking eyes with Go Ong.
"You say Wang Lang serves the court? Chang'an is now a den where dogs like Li Jue and Guo Si tear at each other. Wang Lang offers tribute to those dogs and calls it loyalty. Master, the grain sweated from Hwegye's people—threatened by mountain tribes and barren soil—fattens those traitors. Is this truly loyalty to the throne? Mencius said those who harm the people are bandits. Wang Lang, who fattens rebels and endangers the Emperor, is nothing but a ruthless thief preying on the people and righteousness."
Go Ong's eyebrows twitched. Seowon drove the wedge home.
"I go to punish one who colludes with traitors and nurtures calamity. The Book of Documents states the people are the root of the state. One who starves them rots his own foundation and forfeits the right to rule. If others' righteousness is mere ink on paper, mine fills the people's empty bowls with substance."
Go Ong sat motionless for a long while. Silence hung over the foggy garden. At last, he nodded slowly.
"...The Governor-General's words cut deep. To pierce my intent so sharply—I overstepped in my concern. I thought you merely one who would crush the world with force alone."
"Whipping a disobedient child is the way of the unskilled."
Seowon seized the moment.
"So, will you take the position I requested?"
Go Ong rose, straightened his robes, and bowed deeply to Seowon.
"The gentleman dies for one who knows him. If my humble talents aid the Governor-General's path, I will devote myself to Lord Yuan Shao... no, Lord Yuan Shu."
Seowon gripped Go Ong's hands tightly. A thrill greater than conquering all of Ogun coursed through him.
"Wise choice. Once Hwegye is settled, we head to Suchun together. My lord will rush out barefoot to greet you."
Opening Hwegye's gates was no easy task. Wang Lang's generals resisted fiercely. Yuan Shu's soldiers hesitated under flaming arrows and boiling oil from the walls. Then Taesa Ja bellowed from the vanguard.
"The first to plant our army's banner on that rampart will be rewarded by the Governor-General himself!"
Taesa Ja gripped a ladder, but a beast-like man launched himself forward. Barely armored, clutching only a massive blade, he scaled the walls undaunted by falling rocks and embedded arrows, without a single groan.
"Die!"
Each swing of the man's blade sent defenders' heads tumbling limply. Before Taesa Ja could set foot, Yuan Shu's banner pierced the blood-soaked path at the summit. Hwegye's forces crumbled like the tide.
After the battle, Taesa Ja brought the blood-drenched man before Seowon. Dozens of wounds marred him, yet he stood unflinching.
"Governor-General, behold this man. In all my battlefields, I've never seen one charge so ferociously."
Seowon met the man's eyes. Their fierce gleam marked him no ordinary soul. "Your name?"
"Ju Tae from Gukou County."
Seowon's heart raced. Ju Tae—the indomitable guardian who would later shield Sun Quan with his body, earning the title Undying.
"You possess a tiger's frame. My lord has many generals, but with one who stakes his life like you, how could I worry for his safety?"
Seowon unbelted his fine sword and handed it to Ju Tae.
"This blade was bestowed upon me by my lord himself. Now wield it in my stead to protect him. Your valor shall be our lord's sturdiest shield."
Ju Tae lifted the sword reverently and murmured low.
"...As long as breath remains, not even my lord's shadow shall be touched."
The heavy doors of Hwegye's government office creaked open, incense smoke stinging Seowon's nostrils amid the hush. At the center sat Wang Lang, posture impeccable, awaiting him. A razor-sharp sword lay at his side. As Seowon's footsteps neared, Wang Lang opened his eyes slowly and snapped coldly.
"Seowon! Would you truly forsake heavenly justice and slay the Emperor's minister to forge your hegemony? Strike my head now! Let my blood stain this land, witnessing your outrage forever!"
Wang Lang's voice burned fierce. He sought to brand Yuan Shu's army usurpers with his dying breath—his final weapon. Seowon halted, glancing at the sword by Wang Lang's feet. Without hesitation, he kicked it far away. Metal scraped harshly across the floor, echoing through the hall.
"Taishou Wang, guarding honor in death? A coward's easy escape."
Wang Lang's eyebrows quivered.
"What! Think I fear death and abandon the greater cause? You may take my head, but not my integrity!"
"Integrity... I wonder whose it serves, Taishou. While you groveled to Chang'an's powers with massive grain tributes, cloaking yourself as the Han's last loyalist, what did Hwegye's people eat?"
Seowon stepped closer, glaring into Wang Lang's eyes.
"Your loyalty fattened traitors Li Jue and Guo Si; your benevolence choked the people's breath. Now you seek to cloak your incompetence in death? Historians may call you a martyr, but to me, you're a coward fleeing responsibility. Your death isn't loyalty—it's the final deceit to the people you ignored!"
Wang Lang paled, lips trembling.
"I only sought to uphold the Han line! In a world where rites crumble, how is upholding the Way deceit?"
"Lecturing the starving on rites—is such a Way needed? Righteousness isn't an abstract for silk-robed debates; it's the substance that fills bellies. If your rites justify starving the people, it's no Way but licensed plunder by the literate! Answer me: among the myriad classics you've read, is there one bidding to withhold grain from the dying and offer it to the Emperor instead?"
Wang Lang staggered back, clutching a pillar. Seowon's rebuke struck not at pretexts but living agony. He had no reply. Noble words like pretext and rites scattered before raw hunger. His head drooped.
As Seowon turned to leave, Wang Lang squeezed out a final rasp.
"Seowon! You seem victorious now! But hear this: judge the world solely by profit, and it becomes a beasts' den bereft of righteousness! Your soulless world will devour you in its cold logic, dooming you miserably!"
Seowon paused. The scholar's parting curse chilled his back. A beasts' den. He closed his eyes, envisioning his desired world. But he didn't turn.
"A beasts' den... Taishou Wang, the Central Plains is already hell for the people."
At that same hour, shrieks echoed from Yuan Shu's palace in Suchun. When Zhou Yu recommended the scholar Jang So, he'd welcomed him beaming. But Jang So was staunch and rigid, tolerating no deviation in rites—a grand Confucian.
Believing lord-vassal rites and clan laws the realm's foundation, he applied them without exception.
"My lord! Keep your elbows off the table while eating! And this letter to Governor-General Seowon—what vulgar prose! Rewrite it!"
Yuan Shu was losing his mind. "Can't I eat as I please in my own home? Why snoop on my letters!"
"Your lordship's words and deeds are the law for all!"
Jang So was capable. Upon arrival, he slashed through tangled supply lines and beheaded extortionate officials. He solved Yuan Shu's three-day torment over tea.
Yuan Shu could endure no more and shot to his feet. Ever the noble heir prizing dignity, days of Jang So's stern lectures had worn his patience thin.
"Jang Zibo! Do you treat me as lord or sniveling pupil? Suchun is my city; its laws stem from my word. Must I seek your permission to rest in my chambers or pen letters as I wish?"
Yuan Shu's shout rang off the office ceiling. Even Lu Su swallowed dryly, glancing aside. But Jang So didn't flinch. He set down his bamboo slips slowly, replying with icy frost.
"My lord, such unseemly words. The sovereign is the people's mirror, the root of law. A clouded mirror reflects no truth; a rotten seed yields no upright realm."
"I do as I please—how does that touch discipline!"
Jang So's eyes flashed. He advanced, roaring like a lion.
"The Documents say: one man's virtue blesses the myriad; one man's greed dooms the state! If you chase petty comfort and scorn law, officials will plunder the people on pretext, generals mock orders. Your trivial acts birth tears for Yang Province's millions—how can you not know?"
Yuan Shu sputtered a hollow laugh. "Ha... Judging a nation's fall on table manners? You're excessive!"
"Not excessive—grave! The king's way begins with self-mastery. One who can't rule himself rules no realm. To inherit the Four Generations' glory and claim the world, cast off arrogance now and embody law's rigor!"
Jang So's rebuke cut colder than frost, sharper than steel. After he left, Yuan Shu exhaled held breath and turned to Lu Su sorting documents.
"Zijing! See that? Jang Zibo's glare! Not a vassal's to his lord, but a master's for the errant pupil with a rod!"
Lu Su coughed awkwardly, averting eyes. Suchun's administration had transformed under Jang So, true—but at the cost of Yuan Shu's freedom, also true.
"My lord, Zibo acts from loyal heart. Bear it a little."
"Loyalty? That's murderous intent! I swear Jang Zibo's a spy from Yuan Shao gnawing my lifespan! Seowon laughed off my whims, poured wine first, glossed my lapses with brilliant rhetoric preserving my face! Zijing, even with you here, without Seowon I'll wither away!"
Still fuming, Yuan Shu flung himself onto the ornate silk couch, kicking the air. The Four Generations' heir's dignity had long crumbled under Jang So's barrage.
"Seowon! You rascal! I heard of Ogun's victory, but why no sign of return? Jang So's driving me to early grave! Come back now!"
Yuan Shu's wail filled Suchun's night.