HLCOB C61
by berryChapter 61
In the annals of history, Yuan Shao’s dream of overturning the dynasty was born of the knowledge that he stood to lose nothing. Should he succeed, he would transcend the barrier of his birth; should he fail, the price of his life would obliterate the Yuan clan of Yennan in its entirety.
“……”
Yuan Shao understood.
Whatever the outcome, there would be no regret. In the end, it was a means to destroy the Yuan of Yennan at all costs. He stood in silence, staring down at Jaheon for a long while.
“Lord Yirang.”
A eunuch approached and called for Jaheon.
“His Majesty summons you.”
Jaheon clicked his tongue at the eunuch’s words. After a moment’s thought, he turned and offered the umbrella he held to Yuan Shao.
“Would you not take this?”
The snow still fell, white and unrelenting.
“You may have need of it.”
After a pause, Yuan Shao reached out and accepted the umbrella. Seeing this, Jaheon smiled.
“I shall await your answer, Lord Yuan Yirang.”
Leaving the quiet farewell behind, Jaheon walked away at the eunuch’s side. Left alone in the desolate corridors of the palace, Yuan Shao could not cast off the thoughts of Jaheon.
It had been an affectionless kindness.
Raising Yuan Shao to Commandant had not been for Yuan Shao’s sake, nor was this proposition made with him in mind. Even the umbrella offered, even the handkerchief once bound upon his wound — none of it carried the weight of true concern.
And yet, there was thirst.
Like a child who had never once known affection, yearning even for that perfunctory courtesy offered by one with no drop of blood in common.
…So that was it.
In that thirst Yuan Shao realized it:
All the questions he bore toward Jaheon were born of a longing for what he could not have. As once the young Yuan Shao had turned toward his clan in vain.
By now, it was Jaheon’s third summons to the Emperor’s study.
Few as they were, the number was not small, considering how rare it was for any official to be granted a private audience. Jaheon was, by any measure, favored beyond what was due.
“Huaseo.”
Even Wang Yun had never once stood alone before the Throne.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Answering, Jaheon approached. The Emperor, seated over a game of go, gestured at the heap of memorials before him and asked:
“What do you think these are?”
Truly, the Throne had been indulgent with Jaheon. Had it been another, the head would already have rolled.
Jaheon kept his reply steady.
“I believe they are petitions opposing the appointments of the Commandant and the Captain of the Guards.”
It was only natural.
To appoint men barely of age to such posts was without precedent; resistance was inevitable. Even within their own factions.
“And have you nothing to say to the Throne?”
The Emperor asked it with calm composure.
“Do you not know the Throne abhors clamor?”
At those words, the chamber sank into deathly silence. None dared to breathe a word. Yet Jaheon, unmoved by the oppressive air, bowed his head and declared guilt.
“The fault is mine alone. I beg the Throne to pass severe judgment upon this reckless servant.”
“To pass judgment upon you?”
“Yes. Was it not my presumption that stirred this trouble?”
The Emperor’s lips curved in a faint smile.
“Was it so displeasing to you, that the Throne would bring your sister into the palace?”
“……”
At the mention of Choseon, Jaheon’s mask faltered for the first time. Seeing this, the Emperor’s laughter deepened.
“And now, you dare to threaten the Throne?”
Did not Jaheon stand as guardian of an heir not yet named?
“If the Throne were to strike you down, what do you think the ministers would do?”
The position of Crown Prince was the pillar upon which all factions staked their legitimacy. If Jaheon were killed, the struggle for that justification would consume them all — and among them would rise those audacious enough to covet what belonged to the Throne itself.
“So then, present the Throne with another answer — one that will satisfy.”
As he placed his stones upon the board, the Emperor prompted. Jaheon held his silence.
“……”
He knew the answer. It was the very answer he had once hoped for.
Yet he could not predict how the Throne would receive it. All he knew for certain was the Throne’s one true purpose — the preservation of imperial power. Beyond that, Jaheon could neither divine nor foresee. But nor was there any other answer to give.
“In that case…”
Drawing a steady breath, quelling the tremor rising in his chest, Jaheon spoke.
“Grant me a higher office.”
The Emperor’s hand froze above the go board.
“……”
The chamber fell to stillness. Though countless attendants stood in the room, not a breath could be heard. All seemed seized by dread.
At length, the Throne let out a short laugh.
“A higher office?”
The Emperor turned his cold gaze upon Jaheon. But Jaheon did not flinch.
“Yes. To still the noise, one must raise a greater clamor.”
It was not wrong. If the court’s attention was seized by Yuan Shao and Cao Cao’s promotions, then all that attention could instead be seized by Jaheon himself.
Silence deepened—
Then sudden laughter burst from the Throne. Jaheon kept his head low, masking his face with difficulty.
“And what office, then, should the Throne bestow upon you?”
After a pause, Jaheon answered.
“…Grand Master of Remonstrance would suffice.”
“Grand Master of Remonstrance…”
It was one rank above Yirang.
Yet high enough to divert the eyes of the court. Among civil ranks, it stood above the military. The Emperor, pensive, tapped the board.
Tok—
The balance of the game was in White’s favor.
Tok—
Fixing his eyes on the board, the Emperor extended a hand.
“Attend me.”
At the command, a eunuch entered. At a gesture, the eunuch prepared brush and ink. The Throne dictated:
“From this day, the Censor-in-Chief shall be elevated to Censorate Grandee.”
It was Wang Yun’s promotion.
“……?”
Jaheon was shaken.
Censorate Grandee?
That office stood just beneath the Three Excellencies, the very summit of Han bureaucracy. Considering Wang Yun’s tenure in Luoyang was even briefer than Jaheon’s own, it was an extraordinary leap.
At once, Jaheon understood.
“And the Throne requires one to oversee the Empress’s investiture ceremony in Its stead…”
To raise his foster father Wang Yun so high could mean only one thing. In a realm that revered filial order, the son could not surpass the father.
The Throne clearly intended to raise Jaheon’s office without limit.
“Appoint Huaseo to Chamberlain for Attendants.”
At those words, Jaheon shut his eyes tight.
Chamberlain.
The closest of confidants, entrusted alongside the Secretariat with all matters of state submitted to the Emperor. In truth, the Chamberlain was the Throne’s secretary, empowered to act even as Its proxy.
It was from that office that He Jin, brother of Empress He, had broken from the Ten Eunuchs to build his own faction.
Damn it.
This was no simple gambit to redirect the suspicion upon Yuan Shao and Cao Cao.
It was a promotion that would turn even those not hostile into enemies.
All that Jaheon had wrought in secret — rallying the poor into an organization, amassing wealth in concert with the merchant houses, maneuvering Yuan Shao toward military power — all of it now stood in danger of being dragged into the light.
Into the light?
One could not imagine what lay beneath the water without first knowing the depths.
“……!”
Jaheon lifted his gaze. The Emperor’s dark, lightless eyes were already upon him.
“Huaseo.”
The Throne’s voice, low and steady.
“Did you hear clearly?”
There was no mistaking it.
It was a threat, brazen and deliberate. And though Jaheon knew it, still the Throne demanded confirmation. A shiver ran down his spine. With trembling lips, he forced out a reply.
“…Yes. The Throne’s words are heard.”
At the sight of Jaheon’s openly hostile gaze, the Emperor laughed softly. Lifting a black stone, he declared:
“Then from tomorrow, you shall prepare the Empress’s investiture alongside the Grand Astrologer.”
The stone was set upon the board.
“Remember, one move alone may overturn the entire game.”
And with that one move, the Throne cut off every avenue White had sought to extend.