(Note: The top donor has gifted three alliance leaders, and I’m overwhelmed.
I’ll add an extra chapter today and make up for two more tomorrow.)
“Huh? Commander Liu, you’re still here?” Mi Huang stepped out of Pan Garden and spotted Liu Qia from a distance, surprised.
“I was just waiting to return with you, Commander,” Liu Qia replied with a smile.
Mi Huang chuckled, “Let’s go.”
Behind him trailed a dozen or so attendants, all low-ranking officials from the Minister of Works’ office.
Being sharp-witted, they naturally understood that Liu Qia had matters to discuss with the commander and deliberately slowed their pace, falling behind.
“Were you watching the troops just now?” Mi Huang asked, glancing at the soldiers who were wrapping up their drills and heading back to camp.
“Just a quick look,” Liu Qia replied.
“And?”
“They’re the same troops we’ve been leading all along. What do you think?”
Mi Huang shook his head with a bitter smile, then asked again, unwilling to give up, “We’ve been training them for a while now. Has there been no improvement?”
Liu Qia sighed, “Their foundation is too weak. How much improvement can we expect? If I had to say, only the squad led by Captain Yang Bao looks somewhat decent. With a bit more polishing, they might be useful in the future.”
“Yang Bao…” Mi Huang muttered the name a couple of times, then said, “It’s late today. I’ll come back another time to see what this Yang Bao is like.”
“Are you leaving the capital again?” Liu Qia’s scheme seemed to be working, and he felt a secret thrill, quickly moving to the next step.
“Yes, I’m swamped,” Mi Huang replied with a wry smile. “I need to visit a few nearby counties to recruit talented individuals for the Minister of Works.”
Liu Qia felt a pang of envy.
Mi Huang’s family background wasn’t particularly prestigious, but he was a native of the Minister of Works’ fiefdom, which made up for his lack of pedigree.
Liu Qia was also a native of Donghai, but without a distinguished background.
If he hadn’t joined the office early, he wouldn’t even be comparable to Mi Huang.
Comparing oneself to others can be truly frustrating.
“Commander, you’re always leaving the capital. What about Pan Garden?” Liu Qia feigned hesitation.
“What about it?” Mi Huang was momentarily puzzled but quickly caught on. “Honestly, I really don’t want to be in charge of this battalion, but I have no choice but to take it on for now. Before I left, the Minister of Works told me that everything at Pan Garden is to be handled by the Princess Consort. If she wants to find someone to manage the troops, let her do it. It’ll save me the trouble.”
“But…” Liu Qia was taken aback. “Isn’t that inappropriate? The Princess Consort’s servants are good at managing fields and trade, but they’re not suited to handle military matters, are they?”
Mi Huang nodded, “You’re right. That’s why I’m still holding onto the position of battalion commander for now. Let the squad leaders handle military affairs themselves until we find a suitable replacement.”
“Military affairs can’t be neglected for even a moment,” Liu Qia shook his head. “It’s best to have someone act in your stead when you’re away.”
“Oh?” Mi Huang glanced at Liu Qia, sensing something, and asked, “Do you have any suggestions, Commander Liu?”
Liu Qia knew he was being a bit too eager but pressed on, “Perhaps we could appoint a deputy commander to oversee discipline and training. That way, when you’re away, the soldiers won’t slack off.”
Mi Huang laughed, “Commander Liu, let me be frank. You and I both know what these troops are like, and so does the Minister of Works. He’s long since given up on them. The only reason they haven’t been disbanded is to save face. A deputy commander? Hah! These old and young soldiers—no matter how much we train them, what can we really achieve?”
“Commander, you’re mistaken,” Liu Qia said. “You know the situation in Luoyang. The central army is sitting on the fence, watching from the sidelines. Prince Qi is making a big show of force, and only Prince Changsha can stand against him. The Minister of Works has no troops or power. In times like these, even a hundred or two capable soldiers would be invaluable to him.”
Mi Huang stopped in his tracks, pondering for a moment before slowly nodding, “You have a point.”
Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he asked, “Among the forty guards who used to serve the Minister of Works, there was a man named Shao Xun. He was exceptionally brave and skilled. You and I have both seen him. How is he at leading troops?”
Liu Qia suddenly frowned, “I’ve heard rumors that he’s been secretly gathering young men, adopting them as foster sons. Who knows what he’s up to?”
“Really?” Mi Huang was surprised.
“Just rumors. I don’t know if they’re true,” Liu Qia said expressionlessly.
Mi Huang gave him a suspicious look, thought for a moment, and then said, “Forget it. I don’t have time to investigate. I’ll inform the Princess Consort and deal with it when I return.”
Liu Qia’s heart skipped a beat.
If this matter reached the Princess Consort, things would get complicated.
But he had no choice but to nod in agreement.
“Have you heard any news in the capital these past few days?” Mi Huang continued walking, casually asking.
“The capital…” Liu Qia’s face genuinely showed worry, even a hint of fear. “I’m afraid things are about to escalate.”
Mi Huang’s heart lurched, and he nearly stumbled.
After entering the twelfth month, the New Year was just around the corner.
But there was no festive atmosphere in Luoyang—none at all.
The nobles and officials in the city could no longer sit still.
Unable or unwilling to leave Luoyang, sending their families and children out of the city seemed like a reasonable alternative.
Life at Pan Garden remained as uneventful as ever, with little to report.
But in these tense times, such uneventfulness felt all the more precious.
Every day was valuable, with no excuse to waste even a moment.
This month, it was Shao Xun’s squad’s turn to guard the inner parts of the estate, mainly the rear courtyard.
They replaced the old veterans—real veterans, mostly in their sixties—whom Mi Huang had once described as only good for “scaring off petty thieves.”
Fifty young men, armed and organized, took up their posts at various points.
Shao Xun inspected them carefully and was quite satisfied.
Regardless of their combat skills, these young men were exceptionally obedient.
The troublemakers who dared to mouth off had already been dealt with and were now well-behaved.
Even those who hadn’t been disciplined had seen their squad leader easily defeat the so-called brave warriors from neighboring squads during training.
Out of the four hundred men in the battalion, it seemed no one could match him…
So what was there to say? If they didn’t want to be whipped, they’d better follow orders strictly.
On the fifteenth day of the twelfth month, several ox-drawn carts entered Pan Garden.
The Princess Consort, who hadn’t been seen for a long time, was in the rear courtyard brewing tea.
In Zuo Si’s poem “The Spoiled Daughter,” there’s a line that goes, “She stops to brew tea, blowing on the cauldron as she stands.” This describes the scene of upper-class scholars brewing tea.
The visitors were two women, both from the Hedong Pei family.
One was the daughter of the late Pei Zan, the Princess Consort’s nephew, and the other was the Princess Consort’s younger sister, the wife of Bian Kun.
The three women enjoyed tea and admired the snow, chatting happily.
Eventually, the conversation turned to the niece’s marriage.
“Nunu is fourteen now, isn’t she? In a little over a year, she’ll be ready for marriage,” the Princess Consort said, carefully examining her niece. “She’s as beautiful as a flower. I wonder which young man will be lucky enough to marry her.”
Her words caused the niece to lower her head in silence.
Bian Kun’s wife, Pei Wan, softly explained, “Sister, you may not know this, but the family has decided to marry Nunu to a lower-status family.”
“What do you mean by ‘lower-status’?” the Princess Consort asked, surprised.
“Given the chaotic times, they think it’s better to marry her to a local warlord for support,” Pei Wan replied.
The Princess Consort frowned.
In truth, this wasn’t entirely unreasonable.
A powerful local warlord could easily raise an army of several thousand.
If they managed to recruit refugees, they could even amass tens of thousands of men.
Times had changed, and old perspectives no longer applied.
In peaceful times, a warlord was nothing more than a dog, easily killed and unworthy of a second glance from established noble families.
But these were not peaceful times.
The Sima family was tearing itself apart in a series of wars, the country was in turmoil, refugees were everywhere, and the barbarians were stirring, painting a picture of an impending apocalypse.
In such circumstances, the value of a warlord had skyrocketed.
In critical moments, they could even be lifesavers.
“Nunu, what do you think? If you’re unwilling, I’ll speak up for you,” the Princess Consort said.
Deep down, she thought this might not be a bad choice, but she still wanted to hear her niece’s opinion.
If Nunu truly didn’t want this, the Princess Consort was willing to argue with her cousins and persuade them to drop the idea.
She had already sacrificed herself once for the Pei family by marrying into the Donghai Prince’s household.
She didn’t want to see her niece go through the same.
Hearing this, Nunu suddenly looked up, her expression showing a flicker of hope.
In her youthful fantasies, of course, she dreamed of marrying a handsome, elegant nobleman.
After marriage, she could play the zither, dance, and enjoy leisurely outings with her husband, who would write poetry and socialize with friends.
That was her most beautiful dream—not marrying some crude warlord.
But after a moment of hope, her eyes dimmed again.
She had grown up in luxury, receiving the best education and care, free from illness or hardship—far luckier than most.
She couldn’t be so selfish.
If the family needed her, even if it meant marrying a Xiongnu man, she had no right to refuse.
“No… it’s fine…” Nunu’s tears fell. “Marrying a warlord isn’t so bad. The family will surely pick one with some status…”
The Princess Consort sighed almost imperceptibly, unsure whether it was for her niece or herself.
The times were such that everyone was swept up in the tide.
Even noble families were not entirely free to act as they wished.
Pei Wan’s expression also turned sorrowful.
In their youth, who hadn’t had rosy fantasies? Who hadn’t secretly admired someone? But what did it matter?
In times like these, if they wanted to maintain the family’s wealth and status, everyone had to contribute, everyone had to sacrifice.
The situation in Luoyang could no longer be described as simmering—it was on the verge of eruption.
Some who had caught wind of the situation had already fled the city with their families.
For example, Gu Rong and Zhang Han often spoke of Jiangdong cuisine, hinting at their desire to return home.
Then there was Yu Gun from Yingchuan, who had recently taken his wife and children into the mountains to escape the chaos.
Outside the city, Sima Yong, the Prince of Hejian (Governor of Guanzhong), Sima Ying, the Prince of Chengdu (Governor of Jizhou), Sima Xin, the Prince of Xinye (Governor of Jingzhou), and Sima Xiao, the Prince of Fanyang (Governor of Yuzhou), had all submitted memorials calling for Sima Jiong’s removal.
They weren’t just making empty gestures—they were seriously mobilizing forces to intimidate.
Among them, Sima Yong, the Prince of Hejian, was the most active.
He sent Li Han as a commander, leading a vanguard of twenty thousand men from Chang’an straight toward Luoyang.
Meanwhile, he was recruiting heavily in Guanzhong, amassing over a hundred thousand troops as backup.
In Ye City, they were also recruiting heavily, even enlisting Xiongnu, Jie, and Xianbei troops to bolster their forces, continuously pressuring Luoyang.
In such a situation, the imperial guards seemed unwilling to openly support Sima Jiong.
They chose to sit on the sidelines, watching and waiting to see who would come out on top.
Luoyang was likely headed for a significant clash.
If outside forces attacked, no one knew what would happen.
Suddenly, a series of commands echoed through the snow, drawing the attention of the three women.
The Princess Consort glanced over and saw that it was the soldiers guarding the rear courtyard changing shifts.
She suddenly remembered something and called over a servant, giving them instructions.
The servant quickly left.
The Princess Consort composed herself and continued chatting with her sister and niece.
(End of Chapter)