Reform and Tao Qian's Resolve
The sixth month of Zhongping 5th year (188 AD). Inside the Taishan General's Headquarters.
Sunlight slipped through the gaps in the windows. The headquarters was quiet, with mountains of documents piled high in every direction. In the peaceful air, only the occasional scratch of a brush and the rustle of pages turning filled the room.
At the center of the chamber sat Jang Geom, while Yeon So-yeon and Do Eung sat beside him, each flipping through their own ledgers.
“...These are this month’s payroll records for the soldiers. The logistics officers and I each checked them separately, but... there are discrepancies,” So-yeon said carefully as she placed the ledger she was holding onto the desk.
Do Eung nodded in agreement. “There are also many cases of duplicate payments. It seems the payroll ledgers are being managed separately.”
Jang Geom silently examined the documents. Countless names, numbers, supplies, and rations had been recorded in different handwriting. Far too many entries gave no clue who had written them. He quietly closed the ledger and murmured, “The army exists, yet there is no law... The ledgers exist, yet no one takes responsibility.”
So-yeon frowned slightly. “We’ve tried to organize things, but as the number of people grows, we can no longer keep up.”
Jang Geom nodded. “It is inevitable that chaos arises as the number of people increases. However, leaving it unchecked creates an even greater problem.”
He slowly traced his finger across the ledgers on the desk. “Even the reports and memorials are written in completely different formats. Some report daily, others every five days. In many cases we cannot even tell who wrote them, and some include dates while others do not.”
Do Eung spoke up. “Personnel management is also a problem. We don’t know who is in charge of what, or on what basis appointments were made.”
So-yeon added, “At this point, it would not be an exaggeration to say that the Black Mountain Army is running solely on Lord Jang Yeon’s personal authority.”
Jang Geom remained silent for a moment, then rose from his seat. With his hands clasped behind his back, he slowly paced the room.
“If a faction relies only on its lord’s authority, it will eventually stall. If the general is absent from his post, or loses it sooner than expected... the entire force will collapse like a castle of sand.”
He looked back and forth between So-yeon and Do Eung. “Just looking at the rations, the recorded figures are inflated by at least ten percent over the actual amounts, and the distribution dates for the soldiers’ supplies are all over the place. Double ledgers are clearly circulating.”
Do Eung lowered his head. “...I am sorry. We should have noticed sooner...”
Jang Geom shook his head. “There is no need for apologies. These are inevitable problems that arise when numbers grow. But we must correct them now while we still can.”
Right then, the door opened and Jang Yeon staggered in. In one hand he held a report submitted by the quartermaster, and the usual sour grin still hung at the corner of his mouth.
“Damn, I thought you were holding a trial in here. The atmosphere is pretty heavy, Master Jang?”
Jang Geom bowed respectfully. “General.”
“What is it, Master Jang? I heard as I came in. What? The records are all inconsistent?”
Jang Geom quietly repeated what he had said earlier. “Yes. There is no proper system. The rations and pay given to the soldiers change every time, and the distribution dates differ as well. The reporting structure is also inconsistent. Personnel standards are even more unclear, and the format of documents changes depending on who is submitting the report.”
Jang Yeon tilted his head as he listened. “Master Jang, isn’t it enough for an army to maintain strict discipline and obey orders? Must we really define every single detail like this?”
Jang Geom smiled faintly and nodded. “That is also correct, General. An army runs smoothly when discipline is properly maintained. However, your goal is not merely the operation of a simple army, is it?”
Jang Yeon’s eyebrows rose slightly.
“You now command a force of tens of thousands. Since the Black Mountain Army is no longer merely bandits, it must now be equipped with rules and systems. The current structure that relies on nothing but your personal authority... will collapse overnight if anything happens to you, General.”
Jang Yeon remained silent for a long time.
I didn’t even have time to chew over Jang Geom’s words. I just stared at the old man’s face. This old scholar always speaks politely and elegantly, yet every single sentence somehow stabs me right in the gut.
“...Well, that’s true,” I muttered, tossing the report onto the desk. “How long can I possibly remember and manage everything myself? It was arrogant of me to think I could handle it all with my own two hands.”
Jang Geom simply nodded. There was no trace of ‘See? I was right’ on his face. That was what I liked about this man. He only ever struck at the exact vital point.
“Fine. Then tell me, Master Jang—where should we start tearing this mess apart?”
When I asked with a pout, Jang Geom carefully flipped through a stack of documents and replied, “First, we must standardize the reports. Unify the various formats currently in use, establish a clear reporting hierarchy and schedule, and ensure that everything is recorded without omission.”
He continued without pause. “Next, we must fix the pay and ration distribution dates. We need to set standards so that recording and distribution happen simultaneously, and appoint new responsible officers for logistics and personnel.”
“Hmm...” I crossed my arms and tilted my head. “Is that really okay? I can’t oversee every little thing. If I leave it all to others, won’t it just be a matter of time before some bastards start skimming?”
Jang Geom smiled gently. “There is only one thing you need to supervise, General.”
He picked up one of the newly formatted documents from the desk. “You simply need to establish clear standards and make sure everything is recorded according to those standards. If something goes wrong, it will remain in the records. And once records accumulate, it becomes clear who did what. Therefore, the important thing is not changing people first, but establishing the standards first.”
I mulled over his words for a while. Come to think of it, everything I had done until now... had been about making people trust me and forcing things to work through that trust alone. If anyone made a mistake, it all became my responsibility. Whenever a problem arose, I had to step in and fix it myself...
“All right. Do it that way. If necessary, you can completely rebuild both logistics and personnel from scratch.”
At my words, Jang Geom bowed deeply. “Understood, General. With your permission, I will unify all reports as quickly as possible and standardize the format of all records.”
So-yeon and Do Eung, who had been watching from the side, breathed sighs of relief and nodded. The two of them must have reached their limits as the army grew.
I stroked my chin and muttered, “Yeah... The number of soldiers has increased, we’ve gained someone like Jeon Wi, and now we have people who can actually use their heads. Time to run this properly.”
Jang Geom offered no reply. He simply opened another ledger. The movement of his brush was remarkably smooth and elegant.
After that day, just as he had said, the Black Mountain Army truly began to change.
So-yeon and Do Eung spent every day beside Jang Geom, organizing documents and refining the reporting system. The new forms he created were clean to look at, and above all, they clearly showed who had written them, when, why, and for what purpose.
At first, everyone grumbled.
“If we have to write all this down, when are we supposed to actually work?”
“We’re already busy enough. Now you want us to fill out such detailed ledgers?”
But after a few days, once the distribution records were accurately organized and pay and rations arrived exactly on schedule, satisfied voices began to rise among the soldiers.
“Hey, there haven’t been any delays in rations lately, have there?”
“For some reason the pay’s been coming in perfectly on time. Feels good.”
So-yeon and Do Eung couldn’t hide their admiration. In the past, because each officer used a different recording format, even the smallest task required multiple checks. But once Jang Geom unified the system, the actual time spent on administrative work decreased dramatically.
“As expected of Master Jang Wonjeol,” So-yeon muttered to herself, and Do Eung quietly nodded in agreement.
“Master Jang!” I called out.
He entered the room and bowed silently. “Please speak, General.”
“The Black Mountain Army has completely changed in just a few days. The reports are easy to read, and everyone else seems quite satisfied as well.”
Jang Geom simply smiled quietly.
“From now on, I want you to take full charge of all records and administrative affairs for the Black Mountain Army. That would be best.”
At my words, Jang Geom looked up at me with surprised eyes. “You would... entrust all of it to me?”
“Why are you so surprised? Giving important positions to capable people—that’s what a proper organization does. Am I wrong?”
Jang Geom closed his mouth for a moment, then bowed deeply. “You continue to astonish me every day, General.”
“Huh? What?”
“A lord from whom one can learn something new every single day... such men are rare.”
I swallowed a laugh and waved my hand. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Master Jang. Now, feel free to tear everything apart and rebuild it as you see fit.”
Jang Geom returned to his seat and picked up his brush. The hand that dipped it in ink was neat and precise, and his eyes showed not a single trace of hesitation.
Good. One axe, one brush. Now that I’ve got both, the most urgent fires have been put out.
With that thought, I looked out the window. The summer heat was settling in, but the breeze blowing from outside felt strangely cool.
Late seventh month of Zhongping 5th year (188 AD). The Governor’s Residence in Xuzhou.
“I suppose your worries are finally over, Governor Tao?”
I sat comfortably on the veranda of Tao Qian’s residence. In one hand I held a teacup, in the other a fan that I waved gently. Strangely, a cool breeze was blowing despite the summer heat, yet the old man’s expression remained completely composed.
Tao Qian set down his teacup and spoke slowly. “Not yet. However, I wish to ask you something. Why do you seem more wary of the imperial relatives than the corruption of the eunuchs?”
I burst into a grin at his question. “Haha, I knew you would ask that.”
I crossed my legs and tapped my knee lightly with the fan. “On the surface, the Ten Eunuchs certainly look like the more hateful bunch. Everyone, even a child, knows that those rotten eunuchs are manipulating His Majesty and throwing the court into chaos.”
Tao Qian listened in silence.
I continued. “However, the eunuchs can be dealt with as soon as His Majesty gives the order. The imperial relatives are different. They are always ready to undermine the Emperor’s authority and seize complete control as powerful ministers.”
Tao Qian’s brow furrowed slightly. “You believe the imperial relatives will ruin the court?”
I shook my head lightly, then continued with a faint smile. “No. Right now, it is clearly the eunuchs who are ruining the court. The Ten Eunuchs have blinded and deafened His Majesty for a long time. Thanks to them, wise memorials are torn apart while fools buy their offices and rise through corruption.”
I took a sip of tea to moisten my dry throat. “But if you ask who will ruin the court in the future? It will be the imperial relatives.”
Tao Qian’s expression did not change, but his gaze remained sharp.
“The imperial relatives have legitimacy. They are families joined to the Emperor through marriage. They are families that have given birth to princes and princesses. That is why they wield their legitimacy and blood ties like blades to grasp power.”
I slowly tapped the table with my finger. “However, eunuchs disappear the moment the Emperor’s favor leaves them. The imperial relatives, even if the Emperor’s heart turns away, will not relinquish their positions.”
Tao Qian watched the movement of my fan without speaking.
“Recall the history that followed whenever the imperial relatives held power.” I raised my hand and folded my fingers one by one as I listed them. “Empress Lü drove Emperor Hui mad and toyed with the government in place of the young Emperor. The Yang clan manipulated imperial authority from the reigns of Emperor Shun, Emperor Chong, and Emperor Zhi all the way to Emperor Huan. Emperor Huan only managed to drive them out by using the eunuchs. And look at Wang Mang. That man completely removed the Emperor and arrogantly declared himself Son of Heaven.”
I cleared my throat. “In the history of Han, what is more terrifying than the eunuchs are the imperial relatives. Eunuchs commit corruption, but the imperial relatives toy with the imperial house itself and refuse to let go of power.”
The corner of Tao Qian’s mouth twitched slightly. It was not displeasure, but the look of someone reflecting on ancient history.
I took a breath and lowered my voice. “I do not possess much knowledge, but I believe Governor Tao knows far more than I do.”
Tao Qian quietly lifted his teacup. “The Ten Eunuchs must certainly be removed. However, they are beings who can be killed by the Emperor’s hand at any time. The imperial relatives are not.”
“Then,” Tao Qian said, “do you consider the eunuchs better than the imperial relatives?”
I lifted my head and spoke firmly. “No. Both are bad. But if I must choose which is more dangerous should one side monopolize power with a blade in hand... I judge the imperial relatives to be the greater threat.”
Tao Qian lowered his head. The wrinkles on his forehead deepened.
I moistened my dry lips. “If, in Luoyang, the imperial relatives and the eunuchs attempt to resolve their conflict through politics... I will follow Governor Tao’s wishes.”
I gave a slight bow after speaking.
Tao Qian remained silent for a while. Just then, a breeze blew past. The wind chime at the edge of the veranda rang, and the hem of Tao Qian’s robe fluttered in the wind.
Finally, he opened his mouth slowly. “And if, in Luoyang... they try to resolve the matter not with politics, but with blades?”
I straightened my posture with a smile. “In that case... please take my side.”
Tao Qian looked at me quietly. His eyes did not waver, but he seemed lost in thought for a moment. After a long silence, he finally emptied the tea in his cup.
“...Surely it will not come to drawing swords and fighting.”
I laughed. “If only there were no ‘surely’ in this world, it would truly be peaceful.”
Tao Qian raised his head. In the gaze directed at me, something seemed to have been settled.
“Politics or war... if that boundary collapses, then I too will move.”
I bowed my head and lifted my teacup. “Thank you, Governor Tao.”
At my words, Tao Qian silently poured fresh tea into his cup once more.