Chapter 864: Pushing Yuan Shao to the Limit

Zhen Sheng's life was going well; he oversaw commerce, and no matter how powerful the family or person, none could conduct business here without his approval.

Under General Wang Da's rule, commerce had flourished for years, enriching the people and giving them far greater purchasing power than before; through extensive research into new products, it had revitalized anew amid chaos, sparking fresh transformation—whether trading goods north to south or opening shops here, all proved highly profitable.

Despite heavy taxes, strict rules, and tight oversight, it could not stop the powerful clans, sworn enemies of Wang Yan, from investing here; capitalists would risk their lives for 300% profit, let alone the even more formidable clans—greed was the same, and none cared for their lives.

This highlighted Zhen Sheng's importance as the official in charge of commerce, and further proved the foresight of the Zhen clan's early allegiance to Wang Yan.

The Zhen clan was no longer the Wují Zhen clan, but the Túhé Zhen clan; knowing the world was in chaos and having made no diversified investments, they had long since relocated to Túhé, fully submitting to Wang Yan.

Their clan members now filled every corner of Wang Yan's domain—army, civil administration, commerce, animal husbandry, medicine, the Wenchang Pavilion—all had Zhen clan people; compared to before, their power had swollen beyond measure, becoming a colossal force.

It could almost be said they stood just below General Wang Da alone.

This was, of course, a path to death; Zhen Sheng knew better than anyone what Wang Yan was like—he had breadth of vision and grand strategy, but also was indeed ruthless and decisive; the Zhen clan's current prosperity came because he needed talent now, and because the Zhen clan followed the rules, but there would come a day when they did not.

Although Zhen Sheng had become a core high-ranking official in the General's residence, holding great weight, within the Zhen clan he still had no real voice—his status had indeed risen, but ancestral law remained; as a collateral branch, his word still did not count.

Thus, amid his glory, he was often anxious…

Upon receiving the General's order, he went out to fetch the Han Sui envoy from the inn and brought him to the study, then quietly sat to one side himself.

"Cheng Gongying pays his respects to the General."

The man was old, dressed in fine robes; he was a fellow townsman and close friend of Han Sui, having contributed greatly to Han Sui's career; Han Sui's achievements owed much to him. After Han Sui's death, he defected to Cao Cao.

Without doubt, such a man here under Wang Yan deserved to be killed.

Watching Cheng Gongying's respectful demeanor, Wang Yan waved his hand and casually pointed to the chair across: "Sit and speak."

"Thank you, General, for the seat."

Cheng Gongying sat upright opposite Wang Yan, and as he sat, his eyes swept over the letters on the desk.

He bowed slightly and said: "The General has already read my lord's letter—how will you decide?"

Before coming, he had thoroughly studied Wang Yan, knowing Wang Yan acted swiftly and disliked idle talk, so he spoke plainly and directly.

Wang Yan gave no answer: "Tell me what Han Sui's intentions are."

"In the second year of Zhongping, the General wrote to my lord, instructing him to plant cotton in Gumo. My lord immediately sent men with cotton seeds to Gumo; in the fourth year of Zhongping, the first harvest was gathered and transported back to Xiliang, where, using the methods the General taught, we made cotton clothing, cotton shoes, cotton quilts, and spun cotton-hemp cloth. My lord was overjoyed and deeply admired the General's great righteousness. Five years have passed since then, and the cotton harvested now piles up like mountains."

"In your previous letter, the General said my lord could stockpile cotton, and you would trade salt and iron. Now that your army has advanced to Yumen, and my lord is stationed in Jincheng, the two-thousand-li stretch between us is unobstructed, the trade route is open. My lord wishes to trade cotton for grain, snow salt, and refined iron; I will transport the cotton to Yumen, and you need only dispatch the goods there."

"This year brought severe drought; though I have built many waterworks, my lands still suffered poor harvests. And if my reserves were sufficiently abundant, why would I trade with you? I would simply send my army to take it. Aside from grain, refined iron is out of the question—only ingots. Snow salt is difficult to produce, takes long, and stocks are scarce; I can trade most of it. The rest may be offset with herbs, furs, white glass, and the like."

"You need say no more: if yes, we trade. If no, return to Liangzhou quickly."

Wang Yan spoke just as bluntly; such a rebel leader had no time for idle chatter. He had summoned the man only to see who the envoy was, and whether he had any value for defection.

His dominance had its reason: this trade was never fair. What use was a pile of cotton? Especially since Han Sui's journey from Xiliang to Gumo was five thousand li one way, ten thousand li round-trip. True, the Western Regions dared not interfere, but even so, the food and fodder consumed along the way was no small matter.

Even if Han Sui had strong ties with the Qiang and Hu and paid them to go to Gumo to plant cotton, it still required investment. Even if Han Sui had gotten smart and tried planting cotton on his own land, it would still consume farmland. In this era, large-scale cultivation of cash crops was suicide—no matter how profitable, survival must come first. Liangzhou was already poor land with low grain yields; if they stopped planting grain entirely, it would be self-destruction.

In truth, Wang Yan's plan targeted Liangzhou. Of course, the Western Regions must be targeted too, but they were too distant—his reach could not extend there in the short term. His original plan was to seize Liangzhou, using it as a forward base to further penetrate the Silk Road economically.

The Hexi Corridor could also grow cotton, with yields sufficient—and certainly more than his current harvest. And it would not waste land; grain production would remain fully adequate. Though he now fully controlled the Northeast Plain, it had not been fully developed; even in the Ice Age, grain yields still had room to rise.

Besides, man can conquer nature; as long as no major war is waged and no large-scale expansion occurs, his grain will always suffice. Even if grain ran short, he now had the capability to build warships and launch a massive southern campaign to control the Indochinese Peninsula; if still insufficient, he could seize Indonesia—both places had considerable grain yields; with regulated planting, improved techniques, and superior seed strains, abundant grain could be shipped back within a few years.

The Dao of Heaven diminishes the excess and supplements the deficient. Using the blood and flesh of these people to nourish his subjects posed no great problem; the indigenous peoples there would even thank General Wang Da for the blessings he brought.

Conquest by sword and spear was merely the beginning—teaching them to know reverence. Afterwards, they would come to understand what the light of civilization meant, what it meant to be the Celestial Empire.

This must be done; after all, many parts of China were unsuitable for farming, yet there were hardworking people there striving to survive. It was unfair, of course—they needed broader land…

After hearing Wang Yan's words, Cheng Gongying fell silent for a while, then finally nodded: "As the General wishes."

"Meng Guang."

Zhen Sheng, who had just sat down, rose: "Mr. Cheng, let us discuss the details together—please."

"I take my leave," Cheng Gongying stood, bowed respectfully, not caring about Wang Yan's casual demeanor—he had no right to care.

He could be certain: if he showed even a hint of dissatisfaction, whether he lived today depended entirely on the General's mood.

In truth, if the roles were reversed—if Wang Yan had sent an envoy to Han Sui's territory and shown no respect, even mocked him—Han Sui would very likely have beheaded him on the spot, and he himself would have supported it.

In this age, envoys had a hard life; Mi Heng had insulted everyone and only died at Huang Zu's hands—he was already lucky.

Besides, Wang Yan was a rebel born of the common folk, holding the north; in the eyes of the warlords, he was no different from barbarians; if displeased, killing an envoy was standard practice.

Watching Cheng Gongying leave with Zhen Sheng, Wang Yan returned to his work.

Han Sui had grown cotton for five or six years—he certainly would not sell it all to Wang Yan; cotton had no shortage of buyers, and Han Sui, besides arming his soldiers, must also be selling to powerful clans; cotton's warmth had been proven in Liaodong, but Liaodong's output was insufficient, so only expensive cotton quilts were sold.

Any man with sense would know to offload some of it.

But this year's situation was different: the world suffered severe drought, creating a massive grain shortage, and Han Sui still had to feed his army, causing the value of his stockpiled cotton to plummet—it had become meat on the chopping block. Hence, he had sent this envoy directly, a trusted confidant.

Currently, the richest was unquestionably General Wang the Rebel, for only Liaodong's harvest had escaped major damage, ensuring steady grain output. In the south, Jiaozhi under Shi Xie was also doing well; though his territory had much mountainous land, its water systems were abundant and the climate better, so it too had suffered little impact.

Clearly, Liu Youzhou was closer than Jiaozhi. And clearly, Han Sui had no expectation of obtaining grain from Wang Yan; only powerful clans would release some grain now, using the crisis to seize land, and they would also sell some.

After all, the clans' lands were prime fields with irrigation; no matter how dry or barren, they never yielded zero. Their grain, once enough to feed their families for two years and reserve some to prevent rebellions among tenants and servants, became pure profit. Every famine was an opportunity for their clans to rise another rung.

Han Sui approached Wang Yan hoping for luck—perhaps he would sell grain. Moreover, Wang Yan's resources were the richest; despite still being unwilling to admit it, they had to acknowledge that this rebel born of the common folk possessed the talent to govern—he managed his soldiers and people superbly, inventions kept emerging, and Liaodong's resources were unexpectedly abundant; many now regretted that such a place had fallen into the hands of the Wang bandit.

There were many things here they needed…

Too far away, too long a business cycle; by the time Cheng Gongying returned to Jincheng and dispatched a caravan, most of the ice would have melted. Zhen Sheng handled affairs—Wang Yan had full confidence, he could never be cheated. He did not inquire further, continuing his work at his usual pace.

In this year, the warlords were also pushing themselves to develop.

Yuan Shao, the neighbor, was vigorously developing waterworks and internal administration; though this year's harvest was greatly reduced, he could barely survive. He was also actively contacting other warlords, uniting them against Yuan Shu.

In military matters, he had not been idle. He admitted he could not match Wang Yan—after all, Wang Yan alone had held back Gongsun Zan's twenty-thousand-man army, his troops well-equipped and rigorously trained; he had no confidence and dared not act.

But not daring to attack Wang Yan for Youzhou and Liaodong did not mean he did nothing—he sought to build even greater strength to crush the Wang bandit. Internally, he aggressively purged bandits within Jizhou; externally, he fiercely attacked the Heishan rebels of Mount Taixing, while also eyeing Qingzhou to the east. His actions carried signs of impatience—he felt urgency, and even in winter he did not stop.

Cao Cao remained on his original path to power: a divine gift descended—he gained the support of the Yanzhou powerful clans, defeated the invading Qingzhou Yellow Turbans, and even pushed toward Qingzhou, joining forces with Yuan Shao to seize ten thousand Qingzhou troops and hundreds of thousands of civilians.

Originally, Cao Cao had taken thirty thousand Qingzhou troops and a million civilians himself, laying a solid foundation for his rise. That number was certainly exaggerated; now, having fought alongside Yuan Shao and given him a large share, the figures of ten thousand Qingzhou troops and hundreds of thousands were also boasting; likely, he had four or five thousand troops, and with families included, fewer than two hundred thousand.

Even so, it was a force not to be underestimated; combined with Yanzhou's military and populace, he was roughly equal to Yuan Shao.

Originally, Yuan Shao had no time to care about the Qingzhou Yellow Turbans—he was busy fighting Gongsun Zan, and overall held considerable advantage; thus Cao Cao had emerged, but still was not as strong as Yuan Shao.

Now, because of Wang Yan, Yuan Shao dared not provoke him and had to reserve sufficient troops for defense; thus he could only expand horizontally, eyeing Qingzhou, then further targeting Yanzhou, Xuzhou, and Yuzhou.

But he never rose to power, so now Cao Cao became an eyesore. The two of them already had a grudge between them, and now this was the time to vie for the realm — he and Yuan Shu were blood brothers, weren't they still attacking each other? So what was Cao Cao?

But overall, Yuan Shao actually held the greater advantage, because Zhang Yang was on his side, and further out there was Liu Biao of Jingzhou.

Old Cao wasn't stupid — he was already terribly suspicious by nature, and besides, how could he allow another man to snore beside his bed? So Old Cao quietly drew Kong Rong over. At this time Kong Rong, the twentieth-generation descendant of Confucius, was Chancellor of Beihai. On the surface Old Cao was playing weak, but in his heart his thoughts were dirty.

As for Liu Bei, he was still under Tao Qian for now, but his strength was indeed growing day by day, and he now had more troops under his command. His stance followed Tao Qian's, and Tao Qian was old and past his prime. Faced with the overtures of Yuan Shu, Yuan Shao, and even Cao Cao, he didn't know for the moment which to choose, and decided to sit and watch. These three houses, each one stronger than the last — Xuzhou was in decline, and couldn't stand against any of them.

But this was also a problem, because weakness itself is a crime. In today's chaotic age, having no stance at all made one even more of an eyesore.

Fortunately though, Yuan Shao was far away, Cao Cao was stuffed full and still developing, Yuan Shu was busy attacking Liu Biao, and Xuzhou was tucked away in that remote corner, so it could be considered stable. Only Liu Bei was anxious in his heart, drilling his troops hard. He knew very well that this peace wouldn't last long.

Now the situation seemed somewhat clear — those with a chance at the realm were only four men: Wang Yan, Yuan Shao, Yuan Shu, and Cao Cao. But he knew about yielding and holding to his place, waiting for the moment to move. The situation was ever-changing, and no one knew how things would develop next. Yet he truly had nowhere to run — unless he went to work for Wang Yan, otherwise he figured working for anyone else was the same. So all he could do was drill his troops, hoping that when something changed, he'd have his chance.

Yes — Liu Bei, who held several tens of thousands of troops and had almost hollowed out Xuzhou's military authority, was still waiting for his opportunity…

And in Chang'an, Li Jue, Guo Si, Fan Chou — and also Ma Teng, who was garrisoned at Mei County, and Han Sui, who held Jin Chengjun — plus the court officials, this whole bunch played mind games every day. From time to time they also had to keep an eye on affairs elsewhere, issue an edict, bestow some favor, and so on, to get their fix of ruling the world.

The imperial edicts of today still carried a couple of percent of authority, because they represented legitimacy.

The current regional powers, even Wang Yan was still only the Marquis of Liao — back then it was this very identity that got him through the beginner period, though he had never cared about it. Even given the situation back then, if it really came to a fight he could have fought — it would just mean more dead, so he chose to buy off the disaster with money.

Also, Zhang Yan of the Heishan Army had earlier years also submitted to the Han court, and was given the title General of the Middle Rank Who Pacifies Difficulty, to manage the administrative and public-order affairs of the mountainous regions north of the Yellow River. Each year he could recommend Filial and Incorrupt candidates to the court and send accounting clerks to Luoyang to report. He was entrenched in Mount Taixing — at that time they couldn't simply wipe him out, so they had to offer amnesty and absorption.

Compared to Wang Yan, the others could all be called Han ministers who had eaten the Han's salary for generations, so they still gave the imperial authority a bit of respect — because that was exactly what they themselves craved.

But Li Jue and the others seemed to have become addicted to this feeling. They had picked up Dong Zhuo's bad habits, thinking that controlling Luoyang/Chang'an meant controlling the realm. They had no strong spirit of expansion, and settled down to live their days guarding Chang'an. Moreover they never decided on a single boss whose word counted — everything was discussed together. Today this one was unhappy, tomorrow that one was feeling off — troubles were endless.

Jia Xu watched all this and was burning with anxiety — these few cloves of garlic would never last long. He wanted to run, but for the moment couldn't…

All this intelligence was gathered by the merchant caravans. Some were caravans he had sent out himself, others were caravans of other powerful clans. They chatted at the post stations, and someone was sure to remember things clearly, then that very day they'd compile a report and send it to Wang Yan's desk.

At this stage, many of the foreknowledge had stopped working, because the overall direction of events had long since undergone great changes.

For example Lü Bu, for example Liu Bei — would Old Cao this time still go pick up his father? After picking him up, would Tao Qian still flatter him? If flattering him, would Liu Bei have to see him off? Or would Zhang Kai still kill him, and then Old Cao campaign against Xuzhou? In that case, without Lü Bu's sneak attack this time, how would things unfold?

Those were the distant ones — closer at hand were Yuan Shao and Cao Cao, and Yuan Shu, and how these parties schemed against each other, all variables.

But it had little to do with Wang Yan — after all, he conquered the realm by hard strength, not by pulling out some foreknowledge.

In this late Eastern Han of contending warlords, things were still too quiet. No matter how well you played mind games, no matter how slickly you used schemes, in the end you still had to come back to fighting. Contending for the realm isn't hosting a dinner party — in the end you have to return to the real, hard battlefield.

Or rather, General Wang could choose not to fight — how could they afford to sit idle?

Another year's spring plowing had ended. It had been over two years since he took Liu Youzhou, the land had been planted for two crops, one harvest had been gathered, and another twenty-five hundred naval soldiers had been sent off to explore the sea in search of heaven-bestowed grain seeds.

On the hillside, General Wang stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his long robe fluttering in the wind, his grown-out beard even more unruly. His gaze looked south — over a dozen li away was where Yuan Shao's army was stationed.

"Fengxian, half a year has now passed — how do you feel?"

Wang Yan didn't turn his head, just kept gazing south.

Because of him, Yuan Shao had become somewhat cautious — not active at all, none of the hegemon's swagger of the Guandong alliance leader. Wang Yan decided to put a little pressure on Yuan Shao…