Chapter 384: Current Affairs Make It Hard to Stand Without Fault

In the twelfth month of the final year of Zhongping, deep in the depths of winter, Yuan Benchu personally led over ten thousand elite troops to the walls of Ju County, the administrative seat of Beihai Commandery. Faced with the ever-growing power and increasingly overbearing conduct of General of Chariots and Cavalry Yuan, the Inspector of Yanzhou, Liu Dai — the only man with the capacity to resist and also Yuan Shao’s former friend — chose in his fear to simply resign and return to his hometown. He was a man of Donglai to begin with, so abandoning his army and staff to head east was convenient enough.

And this act, almost in an instant, proclaimed Yuan Shao’s total victory across the Qing and Yan regions.

In truth, after annexing and pacifying the forces of men like Liu Dai and Bao Xin — Yu Jin was directly memorialized for appointment as General of the Household with a full two-thousand-dan salary — he immediately marched his grand army into Ju County, directly seizing the nest like a cuckoo and occupying the government offices of Kong Wenju.

To this, the renowned scholar of the realm Kong Rong adopted a strange attitude: first, he said nothing; second, he paid no heed; third, he voiced no opposition; fourth, he took no action. And when, two or three days later, a memorial from Yuan Shao arrived ordering him to represent Qingzhou on a journey to Chang’an to “present tribute gifts,” the man uttered not a single word and directly set out on the road with his family.

In truth, one cannot exactly call Kong Rong strange, because ever since the Yellow Turbans were driven into Qingzhou by the Guandong coalition army, throwing Qingzhou into chaos, this descendant of Confucius had always acted this way. Whether the Yellow Turban army came to his walls, or Gongsun Zan seized Pingyuan to the north, or Yuan Shao took Jinan, Le’an, and the Qi Kingdom to the west — in any case, Kong Wenju simply did nothing at all. This was what was meant by “merely sitting aloft and practicing non-action!”

Fortunately, however, Beihai still had a Commandant named Wu Anguo, who could laboriously arrange the city’s defenses. Moreover, Kong Rong, as a descendant of Confucius after all, still possessed an eye for recommending and selecting talent. The two subordinates he promoted during his tenure — one called Shi Yi, the other called Peng Qiu — were both highly capable.

These three men — one for civil affairs, one for military, one for finances — doggedly held the overall situation in Beihai together.

Yuan Benchu was intensely covetous of this. So no sooner had Kong Rong departed than he immediately humbled himself before the worthy, paying personal visits and giving these three men ample face. And given their status and position, how could they possibly put on airs before Yuan Shao? Just like Yu Jin, they bowed their heads in submission and hailed him as “Enlightened Lord.”

Not only that, but once Yuan Shao took over Beihai, Gaomi, where the great Confucian scholar of the realm Zheng Xuan resided, also fell into his grasp. He again personally visited the door, requesting an audience with Zheng Kangcheng. Zheng Kangcheng declined on the pretext of illness and did not see him, but neither did he stop the scores of disciples under his tutelage from being recruited away one after another by Yuan Shao.

Thus, men like Cui Yan, Guo Yuan, and Xi Lü — disciples of Master Zheng who in the following year would have scattered in all directions due to the Yellow Turban invasion of Qingzhou — instead flocked to Yuan Shao’s banner. Among them, Cui Yan, because he came from a prestigious family and immediately stood out like a crane among chickens, personally admonished Yuan Shao to strictly enforce military discipline in order to pacify the region, and was thereupon memorialized for appointment as Commandant of Cavalry. Only one man, a certain Gongsun Fang, because he was a scion of the Gongsun clan, chose to go north to Pingyuan to see his distant clan nephew, Gongsun Zan.

Yet even having reached this point, Yuan Benchu, now operating in a mode of brilliant and martial genius, was still not satisfied. While ordering his troops to restore order in Qingzhou, he also emulated Gongsun Xun by issuing a decree seeking the worthy, openly recruiting talent locally in preparation for establishing his own private administration, thereby thoroughly bringing the two provinces of Qing and Yan into his personal possession.

However, that was not all. After issuing the decree seeking the worthy, Yuan Shao actually dispatched envoys bearing countless amounts of gold, white jade, and coin-silk, driving scores of official carriages, to go specifically to Yanzhou in an attempt to summon three men.

Which three?

Two famous scholars of Dong Commandery: Cheng Yu of Dong’e, and Chen Gong of Dongwuyang; and one Li Jin of Jiyin.

Cheng Yu and Chen Gong were both renowned scholars. Chen Gong came from a better background and had associated with the realm’s famous scholars from an early age, so he had been part of that circle from the start. As for Cheng Yu, his origins were perhaps humbler and his fame came later. But the incident years ago when Gongsun Xun held Cheng Yu’s hand at the Cangting Pavilion on the Yellow River, so reluctant to part that he urged him to change his name, had long since become a celebrated tale. Moreover, as the man grew older, his reputation grew weightier by the day. When Liu Dai was in office, he had to write letters specifically to Cheng Yu to consult on matters. How could Yuan Benchu, now thirsting for the worthy, possibly let such a talent slip away?

And as for Li Jin, the reason was even simpler. After the successive battles at Henei and Hulao Pass, Yuan Benchu was utterly convinced — heart and soul — of Gongsun Xun’s eye for military talent. Hearing that there was still a top-tier powerful clan, the Li family, within Yanzhou’s jurisdiction, and that among them was a certain Li Jin who had been a former subordinate of General of the Guards Gongsun Xun, he immediately took a keen interest.

And now, seizing this lull when the fighting had ceased and he held both Qing and Yan in his grasp, he naturally intended to get this man into his hands as well.

“Yuan Benchu has recommended me as General of the Household. Do you think I should go?” Outside the house, heavy snow swirled. Inside, Cheng Yu, now at the age of knowing Heaven’s mandate, sat upright in the main hall. Facing the hall full of gifts, he appeared utterly indifferent.

At these words, the several people seated below in the hall — including his sons Cheng Wu and Cheng Yan, as well as Xue Fang, who had become the County Magistrate of Dong’e by bribing Xu You after the Grand Administrator of Dong Commandery, Qiao Mao, was killed — exchanged glances, yet all found themselves at a loss for words.

After a long moment, Cheng Wu rose and honestly offered a salute with clasped hands: “This humble one does not know. I beg you, my lord, to enlighten us.”

Cheng Yu immediately gave a sardonic laugh, then, still seated in his Grand Commandant’s chair, continued asking: “Then tell me, will Li Tuizhi and Chen Gongtai accept the summons?”

“Li Tuizhi probably will, right?” Since they no longer had to speak about Cheng Yu himself, the people in the hall immediately relaxed. Cheng Wu also promptly stated his view. “Although the Li clan is the foremost powerful family in Yanzhou and even the Central Plains, with influence spanning commanderies and kingdoms, their family status is after all lowly and they have always been looked down upon. Now that General of Chariots and Cavalry Yuan is memorializing to appoint him as a Captain, suddenly making him a two-thousand-dan official, he should be satisfied. As for Chen Gongtai, he has always been known as a renowned scholar of the realm. Now that General of Chariots and Cavalry Yuan has annexed Qing and Yan, imprisoned the two Zhangs, dealt with Qiao Mao, and driven out Liu Dai, it might instead provoke his discontent, causing him to be difficult and cause delays.”

“I beg to differ.” Hearing this, Xue Fang, standing to the side, unexpectedly voiced his opposition. “I believe Li Jin will not accept the summons, whereas Chen Gongtai will accept the appointment. Ah Wu, do not forget the current situation. In these chaotic times, how can one generalize based solely on family status? Consider that the Li clan of Jiyin has influence spanning commanderies and kingdoms, and even faintly shows signs of carving out Jiyin and Shanyang for themselves. Is that something a mere Captaincy can buy off? And as for Chen Gong, no matter how great his reputation, he currently has no way to follow the usual path of cultivating his fame to become a high official, does he? With Yuan Benchu giving him such an opportunity, how could he bear to let it go?”

“Brother Xue, do not forget these two men’s temperaments,” Cheng Wu argued his case forcefully. “Chen Gongtai has a strong and unyielding character. And Li Tuizhi, ever since he was subdued by the General of the Guards back then, has conducted himself with steady restraint. After resigning from office and returning to his hometown, he merely stays at home every day maintaining his position, without his former hardline attitude. The name ‘Tuizhi’ — ‘Retreating Man’ — is no longer a jest.”

Xue Fang was about to argue further, but seeing Cheng Yu above them still sipping his ginger soup with an impassive face, he said no more and simply waited quietly for Cheng Yu to render his judgment. To be honest, ever since the Yellow Turban rebellion, Cheng Yu had effectively become the backbone of the entire Dong’e region, high and low alike. Even a powerful magnate like Xue Fang could only follow in his wake.

Taking his every word as counsel, consulting him on every matter — it was nothing short of this.

And Cheng Wu, noticing his father’s expression, naturally fell silent at once as well.

“You are both correct,” Cheng Yu said, setting down his ginger soup and speaking directly from his seat above. “To be able to consider multiple aspects — background, the current situation, personal temperament — is already quite good.”

Cheng Wu and Xue Fang both perked up.

“But you have both overlooked one thing,” Cheng Yu continued unhurriedly. “And that is: who is Yuan Benchu? In this present age, it is true that the lord chooses his minister and the minister also chooses his lord. But I ask you, taking our Yanzhou as an example — with Liu Gongshan resigning, Grand Administrator Qiao killed, the two Zhangs imprisoned, and State Chancellor Bao dying in battle — if one must choose a lord, who else is there besides Yuan Benchu?”

“What difference is there between that and Dong Zhuo?” Cheng Yu’s second son, Cheng Yan, who had remained silent all along, could not help but frown. “Acting with reckless abandon, utterly losing the hearts of the people.”

“If he truly follows Dong Zhuo’s example and keeps killing without end, killing faster and faster, killing more and more, then he will inevitably fail. But that is a matter for later,” Cheng Yu said with a serious expression. “Because in all matters, there is always a hierarchy of importance. For instance, in this affair — background, the current situation, personal temperament, the sovereign — one of these must stand out as the decisive weight upon which judgment rests. And judging solely by this moment, it is precisely the current situation that takes precedence, with the decision of the superior coming second. As for personal character and even one’s background and inclinations, they must all be ranked further back.”

The young Cheng Yan remained puzzled, but Cheng Wu and Xue Fang both adopted solemn expressions.

“Let me speak plainly,” Cheng Yu said. “I believe both men will accept the summons.” He lowered his head and took another sip of the hot ginger soup, then rose and paced around the gifts in the hall, coming to stand before the threshold of the main hall. He clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the snowflakes dancing wildly in the wind outside the door. The disheveled white-streaked hair at his temples and the unkempt beard beneath his chin seemed to dance along with the snowflakes. “This has nothing to do with their temperaments or backgrounds. It lies in the fact that Yuan Benchu’s ascendancy in Yanzhou is already unshakable, and neither Chen Gongtai’s reputation nor Li Tuizhi’s family power is sufficient to allow them to put on airs with Yuan Benchu. Chen Gongtai has fame, but as long as he wishes to accomplish things, there is no one else for him to turn to. Li Tuizhi’s family is powerful, but if the Li clan dared to harbor thoughts of independence at this moment, Yuan Benchu’s grand army would surely descend with the force of thunder, exterminating their entire clan to make an example of them. But more importantly, there may yet be reversals and discontent in the future, but judging by this moment — with Dong Zhuo’s misrule causing the realm to suddenly collapse, causing the House of Han to suddenly and utterly lose its strength — people’s hearts are all fearful and longing for stability.”

Having spoken to this point, Cheng Zhongde turned his head and cast a sidelong glance, saying: “What do you think the General of the Guards relied upon when he dragon-strode through Mount Taihang and swallowed the Three Adjuncts in one gulp? What does General of Chariots and Cavalry Yuan rely upon as he crouches like a tiger over the Great River and sweeps across Qing and Yan? Certainly, it is because they are heroes of extraordinary caliber. But even more, is it not because the realm is fractured and scattered, desperately in need of heroes? Even Liu Jingsheng’s meteoric rise in Jingxiang, and Tao Gongzu’s shielding of Xuzhou — are these not also because the people of Jingzhou and the people of Xuzhou desire a measure of peace and security?”

Cheng Wu, Xue Fang, and the others all showed signs of dawning understanding.

It must be said that Cheng Zhongde’s words truly captured the fundamental reason why, during this period of the first year of Chuping, warlords rose together in droves. From Gongsun Xun and Yuan Shao at the top, to Yuan Shu in the middle, down to Tao Qian and Liu Biao at the bottom — there were sufficient reasons why these men could, in a short time, annex such vast territories.

First, there were no sufficiently qualified opponents.

“Opponents” here refers not only to political figures of the same caliber and weight, but even more so to the fact that ambition itself needs to be nurtured. Even if some men indeed possessed real strength and prestige, they did not necessarily possess the political ambition or the willingness to oppose these aggressive, ambitious, early-rising hegemons.

Take Bao Xin, Kong Rong, and Liu Dai, for example. The first had military force, the middle one had popular esteem, and the last had both legitimacy and real power. Yet when faced with Yuan Shao’s large-scale annexation, they all chose submission. Why? Because they truly lacked the political desire to contend for the realm in chaotic times. Even more, they lacked the courage and ambition that men like Yuan Benchu and Gongsun Xun possessed — the willingness to stake their lives and their families’ fortunes on fulfilling their political ideals and becoming the supreme ruler of all under Heaven.

In fact, even if someone did resist, and resisted fiercely, they were not necessarily true opponents.

This is just like those warlords in Xiliang. The quality of their troops is renowned throughout the realm, but they only want to carve out territory, hold onto their turf, and live in ignoble comfort. Even someone like Han Sui, who once harbored some political ideals, completely lost that ambition to “serve the realm’s affairs” after the battles at Meiyang and the Wei River — let alone others.

Such men are nothing more than stumbling blocks, not opponents or competitors. That is why Gongsun Xun merely imposed some slight restraints and ignored them, and they were perfectly happy to play dead.

Secondly, and critically, this era truly needed such hegemons to emerge, to protect the territory and pacify the people — or simply to cleanse the realm entirely.

One must understand that, on the one hand, the collapse of the situation after Emperor Ling’s reign had deep-seated causes and was irreversible, so the loss of order across the realm was total and absolute. Yet on the other hand, any normal person knows — and even if they didn’t know before, they know now — that no matter how unbearable a “time of peace” may be, it is still far more desirable than a time of chaos.

A single Yellow Turban Rebellion turned Hebei and the Central Plains, the two heartlands of the Han Empire, into battlefields, resulting in countless deaths and injuries, ruined cities, and withered agriculture and commerce. Then came widespread banditry caused by increased taxes, then great rains and floods, and then, as a matter of course, a great pestilence.

But the Yellow Turban Rebellion still could not compare to the just-concluded campaign against Dong Zhuo. Because this war, which lasted a full year, not only triggered chain reactions across the entire empire, causing chaos everywhere and mutual slaughter among men, but more importantly, it caused the authority of the House of Han to utterly collapse, making people see no hope of restoring Han rule in the short term. This was what some clever men meant by “the House of Han cannot be revived!”

It is particularly worth noting that the fierce battles fought in Henan, Hongnong, and their surrounding areas, along with Dong Zhuo’s hasty relocation of the capital, not only caused massive casualties and the calamities of war, but also reduced the former imperial heartland around the capital to a desolate wasteland, virtually uninhabited.

Otherwise, why would Gongsun Xun let surrendered generals like Li Meng and Duan Wei serve as Grand Administrators of Henan and Hongnong? It was precisely because there were no common people left in those areas — they were titular Grand Administrators, forced to impose military rule.

And when Cao Mengde, having failed in his campaign against Dong Zhuo, fled back to Goushi, and before departing for Yangzhou, on Mount Goushi, entrusted his life and death to Sun and Liu, the line he chanted — “For a thousand li, no cock crows; white bones lie exposed in the wilds” — was not poetic exaggeration at all, but a depiction of reality, was it not?

The entire Henan region was devoid of human habitation for a thousand li. Everywhere under Heaven, there was fighting, plundering, and killing. Who could endure it?

Before the Yellow Turban Rebellion, a scholar like Wang Xiu, who had not the strength to truss a chicken, could ride a skinny horse, carrying his bedding, and relying on the system of post stations, travel across provinces and counties, journeying a thousand li to pursue his studies. Try letting any student make such a journey now.

Thus, in the latter half of the first year of Chuping, from the high ministers and aristocratic clans at the top, to the powerful magnates in the middle, down to the impoverished commoners at the bottom, virtually everyone, from the marrow of their bones, yearned for a great figure to come and steady the chaos.

For most people with ideals, if they themselves lacked the ability to stop the chaos, they would instinctively hope to find a capable hero to assist in doing such a thing. For those aristocratic and powerful clans who had no political ideals and only wished to preserve their families, allowing their families to continue enjoying their previous prosperity or political privileges, if they could not protect themselves, then choosing a strong and powerful man to submit to was also a matter of course. As for the common people at the very bottom, their thinking was even simpler — to stay alive was enough!

This is why, when Gongsun Xun behaved so arrogantly before the Weiyang Palace and by the banks of the Wei River, very few stood up to oppose him. It was because the high ministers and great officials were truly afraid. Because with Gongsun Wenqi there, when this General of the Guards stepped forward and declared that the realm’s affairs rested on him, they genuinely felt a certain sense of security.

This is also why, when Yuan Benchu used any means necessary to swallow up the lords of Guandong, very few truly resisted. It was because the scholars and people of Yanzhou, and the scholars and people of Qingzhou, also truly needed a figure to help them unify order, so that they would not live in constant fear, perpetually suffering the calamities of war.

“So, Lord Zhongde intends to accept the summons?” Xue Fang, having gained some understanding, sighed with emotion and then, tucking his hands into his sleeves, came to stand behind Cheng Yu.

“What else can I do but accept?” Cheng Yu replied expressionlessly, continuing to stare at the snowflakes outside the door. “If I do not accept, who will shelter you all? It’s just that this old man is, after all, past fifty. Perhaps I can manage to avoid going to Hebei and simply stay here guarding Dong’e. In any case, our place here is a critical junction connecting Yanzhou to Hebei. Someone has to guard it, no?”

“That… would be perfect,” Xue Fang sighed repeatedly.

“The envoy is waiting at the post station,” Cheng Yu continued, his expression unchanged. “Go there in your capacity as County Magistrate, act as an intermediary, and give me a bit of assistance as appropriate. I won’t instruct you on what to say.”

"Rest easy, Lord Zhongde!" Xue Fang bowed deeply, then swiftly departed through the snow.

"Father." Cheng Wu watched Xue Fang leave before speaking. "Is Magistrate Xue reliable? I always feel that ever since he became magistrate, his mind has grown somewhat mixed and distracted."

"What does it matter if he is reliable or not?" Cheng Yu's expression remained unchanged as he gazed at the snow. "The times dictate it so — did I say anything wrong? And what harm does my staying in Dong'e do to him?"

"It's just, my lord," Cheng Yan also stepped forward to speak, "what if Yuan Benchu truly cannot be relied upon?"

"Those words are rather presumptuous." With no outsiders present, Cheng Wu naturally spoke more freely. "The situation east of the passes rests first upon the two Yuans. If he cannot be relied upon, who can? The General of the Guards can be relied upon, but can we even reach him?"

Cheng Yan was momentarily speechless.

"Set your minds at ease!" Cheng Yu finally turned and walked back toward the rear quarters, sighing as he went. "I am neither a loyal minister and filial son, nor a thorn in the General of the Guards' eye. In the end, I am nothing more than a decrepit old man struggling to survive in chaotic times. Whether he can be relied upon or not is no concern of mine... If you two have nothing else to do, take those gifts to the Xue household and exchange them all for grain, cloth, firewood, and such, then distribute them to the people of the city. Do not keep a single item!"

The two Chengs hastily bowed and acknowledged the order.

Snow swirled thickly. At the same time, within the city of Ju County in Beihai, the General of Chariots and Cavalry, who by all rights should have been "crouching like a tiger over the Yellow River and Mount Tai," was at that moment suffering an unbearable headache, lying on his couch and groaning.

As it happened, what had suddenly brought on his ailment was not only this sudden sky-filling snow, but also several letters.

The matter was thus: after Liu Dai withdrew into seclusion alone, there was a petty man among his former subordinates who, unwilling to lose his position just like that, took the initiative to search the tents for some of Liu Gongshan's past private correspondence and sought out Yuan Shao's staff, hoping to use them as a stepping stone for advancement. After Guo Tu examined them, he was shocked to discover that several of the letters were truly and exceptionally alarming!

It turned out that earlier, when Bao Xin died, it had stirred feelings of grief among many who saw their own fate in his. Among them, Liu Xun, a trusted confidant whom Yuan Shao particularly relied upon and who served as the Tiger Fang Commandant in the army, had actually taken the initiative to contact Liu Dai and vent his discontent. Not only that, but Liu Xun's letter even mentioned that he had already contacted Zang Hong — another trusted confidant of Yuan Shao who was then controlling Le'an Commandery in Qing Province — and they were preparing to rebel against Yuan Shao to set the record straight.

These letters were like a bucket of winter ice water poured directly over Yuan Shao's head. How could he not have a headache?

"My lord, please make a decision!" Guo Tu, holding the letters, pressed close to the couch with rare solemnity.

Yuan Shao propped his forehead, leaning back diagonally on the couch, his eyes full of bloodshot veins, yet for a moment he did not respond.

"Illustrious lord, indecision when a decision is needed will surely breed disaster." Feng Ji also urged through gritted teeth. "Liu Xun has long been in the army and knows all our strengths and weaknesses. Zang Hong is in Le'an, originally intended to flank and restrain Gongsun Zan next year. If they now rebel..."

"Even if those two rebel against me, they will not defect to Gongsun Zan!" Yuan Shao responded impatiently, half a sentence.

"Benchu, you truly must make a decision." Even Xu You at this moment helplessly bent forward to urge him. "I know you fear that successive killings will cause unrest, leading the scholars and commoners of Qing and Yan to mistakenly believe your conduct is cruel and violent... But is this the kind of matter on which one can hesitate?"

"Illustrious lord!" Xin Ping also bent forward to remonstrate.

"Very well!" Under the urging of his advisors, Yuan Shao of course knew this matter could not be avoided no matter what. "Do you have any stratagems to prevent this affair from implicating too many?"

"Seize Liu Xun directly in the army, then use the pretext of releasing the two Zhangs to lure Zang Hong here, publicly expose their crimes, and carry out an open and lawful execution!" Xin Ping bent forward and offered his plan. "Only thus can we avoid unnecessary entanglements."

"Then let it be done so!" Yuan Shao's gaze shifted from the backs of his advisors to the snowflakes outside the window as he sighed quietly. "But do not forget that petty man who betrayed his master to bring the news... execute him together with them!"

"The illustrious lord is divinely martial and brilliantly wise!" Xin Ping, still bowing, offered his praise.

"If I were truly divinely martial and brilliantly wise, how could I have let such trusted confidants turn against me?" Yuan Shao gazed up at the sky and sighed deeply, the gloom in his heart hard to suppress.

"In such chaotic times, why should my lord reproach himself?" Guo Tu disagreed. "When heroes under heaven pursue great trends, there are always those who fail to recognize the times and recklessly go against them... not worth a sneer!"

Yuan Shao sighed and remained silent, but suddenly felt that he truly understood now what Gongsun Wenqi felt — that sensation of swallowing the Three Adjuncts yet being powerless. The trouble was, he himself was still far behind and needed to seize every moment!

One could only say, how fine it would be if there were no Gongsun Xun in this world — could he not then emulate Emperor Guangwu, regulating the lands north of the Great River and slowly planning his advance?

How could it have become so difficult as this?

————I am the dividing line of the foremost situation————

"Fret not that Li Guang was never enfeoffed as Marquis — his lack of enfeeffment is not worth fretting over.

The Han cauldron has yet to boil Gongsun's flesh; the Wu hook in vain severs Wu Yuan's head.

At Hongmen of old they praised the dog-butchers; in the tiger tent today they shame the monkey-crowned.

If by chance you meet Cao Cao at Luoyang, tell him the heroes are busy burning towers." — Anonymous

I feel my state is not good... I keep wanting to sort out the plot, but cannot find where to begin.

(End of Chapter)