My Little Xinye (4): Yuan Shu's Ruin in Yeonam
"Argh, guaaah!!"
Yuan Shu screamed and toppled backward. There was nothing nearby to grab and hurl—everything around him showed clear signs of hasty repairs on worn-out junk.
"Defeated?! Again?! Defeated again?! By that bastard Emperor Zhong's army?!"
"Sob... I hate to report it, Your Majesty, but General Leibo has fallen... General Jinran is missing in action..."
"Missing in action?! He ran away! Betrayed me and ran away!"
Yuan Shu clenched his fists, seething. Normally, he'd smash a teacup or flip the desk, but even he was starting to realize.
"...How many troops do we have left?"
"At l-least a hundred thousand, sire..."
"Tell me the truth!!!"
"......Until three days ago, it was eighty thousand."
"Until three days ago?"
Yuan Shu's instincts screamed. Something had gone terribly wrong.
"Wh-what about now?"
"...Seventy thousand."
"What kind of nonsense is that?!"
In just three days, ten thousand soldiers had vanished. No battles fought, no natural disaster collapsing barracks on ten thousand sleeping men.
"How the hell did ten thousand disappear?!"
"Th-they all deserted at night. We couldn't stop the soldiers from fleeing. They hooked up with the locals, slipped out of Shouchun..."
"What were the guards doing?! Why didn't they stop them?!"
"The guards deserted with them. Even the ones chasing them pretended to pursue, then bolted together. General Qiling and I barely managed to barricade the gates and hold on..."
"Guhk...!"
Yuan Shu hung his head. Rage boiled over, dark red blood trickling from his mouth.
"Your Majesty!"
"...Ha, haha. Me... falling? The founding emperor of Zhong falling? This is ridiculous..."
Bam! Bam bam! Yuan Shu pounded the desk relentlessly. His hand turned red, blood splattering from his palm, but he kept smashing, self-mutilating over and over.
"Uwaaaah!!"
His roar echoed unanswered. No one could comfort him—victory was the only solace, and no general had brought him any.
Betrayed by Sun Bo, backstabbed by Lü Bu, double-teamed by Cao Cao and Liu Bei. Now even Liu Biao—and his subordinates—had him wheezing in defeat.
"...Zhang Xun. How much is left in the treasury?"
"........."
"Speak!"
"...It ran dry two months ago."
Yuan Shu collapsed to the floor. Zhong's treasury was his, the great Yuan clan's fortune. How could it be empty?
"No... why...?"
"Running the state costs too much. Your Majesty's wealth was like the Yangtze, but it dried up without us noticing."
"Th-then these past two months?! What the hell happened?!"
"...Please execute me!!"
Zhang Xun slammed his forehead to the ground.
"I feared Your Majesty would blame yourself, so I emptied my own coffers...!"
"Wh-what?!"
"I liquidated my household, raided my granaries for funds. That held us for a month and a half, but arming Leibo and Jinran drained the last of it..."
"Ha, haha..."
How could he blame him? This man, devoted his life to him, had stripped his family bare for Yuan Shu's sake.
"The fool who ordered Leibo and Jinran to march... wasn't that me?"
"Kuhk...!!"
And Yuan Shu himself had crushed that tearful loyalty.
Dazed, Yuan Shu finally saw the palace interior. Beams scarred by blades. Cobweb-choked ceiling from neglect. Walls papered over broken patches. Gaunt, withered arms. Only the emperor's robes remained intact—barely, replaced two weeks ago.
Dressing as emperor cost money too. Zhong's last treasury coin had gone to those robes.
Ruined. Zhong, meant to usher a glorious new era from Shouchun, collapsed from lavish excess and treasury bankruptcy. Even those fleeing beggar-states had abandoned Zhong.
"Ah, aaah..."
Yuan Shu broke. His honeyed golden delusion shattered two months after the sweet nectar ran dry.
Everyone would starve at this rate. Only one path left.
"......Zhang Xun, forgive me."
"Y-Your Majesty! You mustn't apologize! You are the emperor of Great Zhong!!"
"I went mad. Too greedy. Me... me."
Yuan Shu's hands trembled.
"I didn't see Sun Bo's treachery. Didn't realize Lü Bu was less than a dog. And... I didn't know I lacked the power to face Cao Cao and Liu Bei alone...!"
"Kuh, kuhk...!"
"...But even an incompetent emperor."
Yuan Shu reached behind the throne, prying up a floorboard. He pulled out an object wrapped in golden silk.
"...must survive first, right?"
"Your Majesty...?"
"...To Hebei."
Yuan Shu gripped the Imperial Seal Sun Bo had left behind. Absurd for Zhong's emperor to treasure Han's seal, but madness still gleamed in his eyes.
"To Yuan Shao. Same Yuan clan, brothers since youth. ...With the seal, he'll take us in."
"But..."
"Bring a brush."
Yuan Shu bit his lower lip hard, blood welling at the corner.
"If he spares my life, from today... I'll serve him as Yuan clan's rightful heir, my elder brother."
Yuan Shu took the brush, tears of blood staining it.
* * *
"Damn, this is insane. I'm about to cry blood myself. Haha."
I nearly lost my mind staring at the black masses below the walls.
"Is this what it feels like for giants looking down from the sky? Haha, swarming like ants."
"They're all desperate to live, Master."
Pang Tong giggled, slapping my back.
"Karma from you, right? You wrecked Zhong, spread rumors Xinye's livable—now they're all flooding here."
"Still, that's too much. Even two thousand a day strains us. What the hell is that?"
I recalled the soldiers who'd gathered against Leibo and Jinran recently.
"At least five thousand now."
Five thousand. Half a legion, packs on backs, waiting at the walls for entry.
Their spokesman claimed they fled for survival. Trapped by Zhong's monstrous tyrant till now, finally escaping.
"Kill 'em? For paying taxes to traitor Yuan Shu?"
"Who wouldn't pay with a sword to your throat?"
Some probably hadn't. All dead now.
"...They're refugees desperate to live, like us. Suddenly Jingzhou's governor shifts from Liu Biao to some nobody—how many commoners pack up and move elsewhere over a prefect change?"
"True. Unless you tell the prefect to GTFO."
"...You're way too radical sometimes."
"Blame this black phoenix in my left hand..."
"Shut up. Think of a way to handle them."
How to house refugees. More precisely, how to screen them.
"Some are surely Zhong loyalists. We need to weed them out."
"How? Can't read minds. Can't ignore that many either."
"Right. Use the most efficient check."
A quick, simple filter for masses. Some grit slips in with rice? Fine—sift out the big stones first.
"Pang Tong. I authorize 'that'."
"Huh?! M-Master! That's too dangerous! Last time caused a huge mess!"
"We use it. Normal searches won't cut five thousand. Only way to snag hidden traitors. ...Actually, more."
If ten percent are spies, halving them succeeds our plan.
"Fetch the stele. And silk."
"S-silk? What're you—"
"This."
Whisper whisper.
Pang Tong paled.
"D-do we need to go that far?"
"Yep. Who're Zhong's diehards? Literates. Hey, elder down there!!"
"...Who? Me?"
An old man stood atop the wall with soldiers. Simple robes, flanked like guards—he commanded them.
'Don't know him, but soldiers are ours.' Probably from the reinforcements.
He gazed sadly at the refugees, startled at me.
"What's up?"
"Need soldiers to move a stele. Help out?"
"Stele...?"
"Yeah. Needs ten strong men. In the warehouse—wanna place it by the gate."
"What stele?"
"One for a man and a nation."
He frowned at the characters I wrote on my palm.
"You...!"
"Last time we took refugees, thieves snuck in as them—stole honey, bolted. Made this after."
"...Must we?"
"Yes."
I stood firm.
"Just step once to prove you're not Zhong's. Super efficient."
"So step on it to prove you're not Zhong folk?"
"Back then, Bo Yi and Shu Qi starved on ferns in the mountains, refusing new lands' food for their old king's loyalty. Exemplars of fidelity."
Nothing sways elders like Bo Yi and Shu Qi. He pondered, then nodded gravely.
"...Can you handle it?"
"A hundred, thousand times. Even demo it for them."
Not my country anyway.
Soon after.
Before Xinye's gate, a stele reading "Zhong Nation" thudded to the ground.
"Don't step? No entry."
Starve like Bo Yi and Shu Qi on Zhong soil. Or prove you're no Zhong subject.
"Hate it? Crawl back to Zhong."