Chapter 23

“Asking to meet Im Jaheon, from the Yingchuan Xun clan?”

Cao Song asked in surprise at the servant’s words.

“Yes. Prefect of the Capital Commandery, Yang Biao, has also sent people,” he said.

“Yang Biao, Prefect of the Capital Commandery? That fellow is of the Hongnong Yang clan!”

The Yingchuan Xun and Hongnong Yang clans.

These two houses were as renowned as the Runan Yuan clan. Yet unlike the Runan Yuan, they kept a measured distance from the eunuchs; particularly, the Yingchuan Xun could well be called the standard‑bearers of the Qingliu faction.

“They’re desperate to return to Luoyang,” Cao Song muttered with a click of his tongue.

“Wouldn’t they be? To the Qingliu, Im Jaheon is nothing less than a lifeline to get back into Luoyang.”

So high had Jaheon’s repute risen of late that there was even talk the rumor of his being a male favorite had been deliberately spread by the eunuchs to insult him.

It was, in a word, an unstoppable surge.

To turn ill fame into acclaim in a single day, and to swell his following in an instant—and with ample justification. It was a legitimacy even the eunuchs, who had basked in imperial favor for over a decade, had never possessed.

“Are the eunuchs truly being pushed back?”

And yet, the eunuchs had built their base in Luoyang over long years. Even if the Emperor’s favor waned, forces remained to prop them up. Moreover, would the favor accumulated over decades vanish in a heartbeat? Still, Jaheon could not be dismissed; his momentum was mounting formidable. After thinking for a long while, Cao Song murmured,

“…I must summon the retainers.”

However he turned it, his own head could not judge the current situation. Was that not why he kept clever retainers under him, for such times? If only that accursed son were here, it would be easier to decide what to do…

Sighing, with the face of a son who was missed in absence and maddening when present in mind, Cao Song looked up.

“……?”

The son was before his eyes.

“What weighs so on your mind?”

Face sleek, hair gleaming and making him look all the more comely, the boy stood before him. Cao Song’s eyes widened as he looked his son up and down for the first time in nearly a week. Then he pointed at Cao Cao and asked the servant,

“Am I seeing things?”

The servant who had followed Cao Cao answered in haste,

“N‑no, sir! It is the young master!”

“…A‑man? A‑man is right before my eyes?”

Cao Song barely stifled the anger that boiled up as his mouth fell open.

“You look to have eaten and slept quite well.”

Shrugging at Cao Song’s trembling voice, Cao Cao answered airily,

“Yes, I have lived well. There are many wondrous things at Jaheon’s house—terribly well, indeed.”

“……”

“And the food—how delicious. Do you know? At that house they season with fine, white salt. Never in life have I seen salt so white.”

Whether he knew Cao Song’s condition or not, Cao Cao brazenly continued in his own vein. He even remembered to take out the soap Jaheon had given him from his sleeve.

“And they plan to sell this to Luoyang’s nobles soon, but I got one in advance. I tried it at Jaheon’s house—bathing with this is far more convenient…”

“You lived as lightly as a butterfly, not knowing what your father was feeling?!”

Blazing up, Cao Song snatched the broom from the servant at his side and moved to thrash Cao Cao. But this was Cao Cao, quick as a cat. Filial or not, he might have taken one blow from his father’s hand—but he dodged every swing and fled.

“How did I sire such a wastrel!”

“It was mother who bore this son,” came the reply.

“Y‑you wretch! Do you think I speak of the literal begetting!”

“Then you should have phrased it properly to begin with.”

“A‑man, you cur!”

At the ridiculous spectacle, the servants’ lips twitched. After a spell of fleeing his father’s wrathful broom, Cao Cao thought: Had Cao Song truly been enraged, by now he would have called the household troops and had them seize Cao Cao’s arms and legs. As he had not, it meant he was not that angry.

Sitting with easy grace on the garden’s stone wall, Cao Cao asked Cao Song,

“So—what will you do?”

“What?! Do you mean, choose how to kill you…?!”

Face flushed red with fury, Cao Song shouted.

“No. I mean, choose whether to take Jaheon’s hand or the eunuchs’.”

“……”

He was his son, but uncanny all the same. At Cao Cao’s words, Cao Song froze mid‑swing, broom clutched in hand. After swallowing his saliva, he passed the broom back to the servant.

“…Have you thought of any good plan?”

Not bothering to hide his displeasure, Cao Song asked. Cao Cao shrugged and answered,

“No. I have thought of nothing in particular.”

“What? Then why ask! You damned wretch!”

Cao Song’s face reddened again at his son’s equanimity, thinking himself toyed with. But Cao Cao only shrugged and said,

“There is no need to choose anyone—hence no plan.”

“How is that sense! Every time His Majesty moves like this, a blood wind has blown!”

The Emperor periodically purged the officials of court to cement his power. Had not Cao Song been closer to the throne than most? He knew for certain that each time a new favorite appeared, a blood wind howled through Luoyang; this time would be no different. At his words, Cao Cao raised a brow and asked,

“Father. Why, think you, does the blood wind blow in Luoyang?”

“Because, naturally, each checks the other and moves rashly, and so the blood wind…”

“…Then why move?”

“……”

At the question, Cao Song fell suddenly silent.

“If they move, they will die.”

The son who sometimes tossed out cold‑chilling words gazed steadily at him. How many times had Cao Song survived a crisis thanks to those chilling utterances?

Realizing this, Cao Song swallowed.

“Yet.”

“……?”

“…As we too could be dragged into it, this time let this son make a move.”

Smiling again, Cao Cao added lightly,

“So let me have the capping ceremony that has been put off.”

It was the first properly made request from Cao Cao to Cao Song, who had always seemed to live without thought.

Meanwhile, Jaheon was nonplussed.

“Xun Yu?”

The name was Xun Yu, style Gongda.

A collateral of the famed Yingchuan Xun clan at the end of the Later Han, and, in the original history, an advisor to Cao Cao ranked after Guo Jia and Xun You in repute.

[Xun Gongda]

A man bearing that name had sent a letter asking to meet Jaheon.

Xun Yu was kin to Xun You. And Xun You was an intellect compared with Zhang Liang, strategist to Liu Bang, founder of Han, a man who could pull every talent from Yingchuan by a mad network. In the original history, how many talents did Xun Yu draw and present to Cao Cao? And how many talents did those drawn talents draw in turn?

In short, Xun Yu squared talent.

“…Is it truly Xun Yu?”

Startled by Xun Yu’s sudden appearance, Jaheon groped through his modern memories. At this point—was Xun Yu in Luoyang? The Yingchuan Xun were not on good terms with the eunuchs, but possessed a centuries‑old prestige the eunuchs could not touch. They were a great house wealthy enough to come up to Luoyang. Not impossible.

Frankly, Xun Yu’s appearance was good news. His personal ability was sound, and he could bring Xun You.

“Feels like something is being missed…”

But something chafed. When Jaheon first began to meet people, only chaff‑like Qingliu sorts came. Men so rigid they could not discern circumstances, or ones intoxicated with the pretense of remonstrating with the Emperor. If not such men, then…

“Please—copy the lord’s hand for me.”

“…How can one write upon a person’s body.”

“I will never wash it away! Please!”

A pageant of madmen, reminiscent of a second Cai Yong.

Yet as time went by, the caliber of those who came to meet Jaheon changed. The Hongnong Yang, the Sima, and now even the Yingchuan Xun were making contact. And the Yingchuan Xun could be taken as the very emblem of the Qingliu houses. That the Xun moved thus was tantamount to the Qingliu publicly declaring their intent to join with Jaheon.

And if Xun Yu were won over, one day Xun You could be as well; with Xun You brought in, it would be no exaggeration to say all Yingchuan’s talents would stand for Jaheon. Moreover, if the Xun were favorable, houses tied to the Xun would likewise incline toward Jaheon. If so, not long from now, even Choseon might be brought up to Luoyang.

He should have been glad, and yet something caught, like a lump stuck in the throat, and pricked Jaheon’s nerves.

“There must be something…”

Unable to name the cause, Jaheon bit his lip.

“Young master…! Young master!”

O Juk‑yeop burst into the room, face alight.

“His Majesty has bestowed a plaque upon young master…!”

“…A plaque?”

“Yes! The other day, when young master presented all the gifts to be added to Yuzhou’s disaster relief—you were granted a gift in return…!”

“How does that make sense? How many gifts were there, that a plaque…”

At that moment, Jaheon recalled Cao Cao’s words.

“Do you trust His Majesty?”

And Jaheon realized what had been pricking him all along.

“……!”

Springing up, he strode quickly into the courtyard, where a eunuch stood. Seeing him, the eunuch smiled.

“Your servant greets Young Master Im.”

Behind the eunuch were all manner of wealth and a plaque bearing the character “Loyalty.” Pointing to the plaque, the eunuch spoke in a lilting voice,

“His Majesty, moved by your heart in offering wealth out of concern for the drought, has bestowed this plaque upon you.”

The Emperor had spared Cai Yong, making Jaheon the hope of the Qingliu.

Thus it was only natural that Qingliu figures now flocked to Jaheon. Moreover, among those he had met, about half had little real power in Luoyang, yet were names well known among the notables and sprang from great houses. In this accursed antiquity, for men of eminent houses to follow one was itself rightful justification of power.

“It is a plaque written by His Majesty’s own hand.”

And now, today, the Emperor had even bestowed a plaque written by his own hand.

What did that mean?

Even the other houses that had hesitated, watching for a cue, would attach themselves to Jaheon. With that level of force, even the eunuchs could not sit still—for it was they who had killed the Qingliu and driven them to retire to the provinces. And thinking it over, the Emperor had been perfectly consistent. From the moment Jaheon met him until now, he moved toward a single objective.

To provoke the eunuchs.

“Damn it.”

To force the eunuchs to move and attack the Qingliu, gathering again around Jaheon.

“I was the bait of the Son of Heaven.”

Realizing it, Jaheon let out a hollow laugh.

And, considering recent developments, there was only one course the embattled eunuchs could choose.

To depose the Empress, rumored to be steeped in sorcery, on a charge of treason.

And thus, by deposing her, to drag down as traitors even those Qingliu figures rallying around Jaheon.

Footnotes:

 

• Bestowal of an imperial plaque inscribed “Loyalty” functions as performative recognition; combined with relief‑donation optics, it weaponizes moral authority against eunuch patronage.