Chapter 11

“Can strategists not ascend to the throne?”

Chapter 11: Balancing Loyalty and Filial Piety…

These four words felt utterly mismatched with the Yellow Turban rebels.

Yet when Qiao Yan uttered this phrase, even the Tian brothers, seasoned in life’s ironies, couldn’t detect any deceit from her.

Besides, in this context, she had no reason to wield a grand banner of righteousness.

As the victor, she naturally looked down upon them.

As the vanquished, Tian Tao had no capital for arrogance.

As the head of the Tian clan, he knew he must protect the clan’s vital strength at all costs, including possibly cooperating with the Yellow Turban Army.

If this Mr. Qiao were indeed speaking on behalf of Liang Zhongning, they could have employed a more efficient strategy.

Striking at their weak point was most effective for such wealthy clans.

All she had to do was hold Tian Yan’s fate in her hands, and they would have to bow down.

With this reasoning, Qiao Yan’s words plunged the jail into a brief silence, leaving only the sound of breaths.

After a while, Tian Tao hoarsely asked, “What is loyalty and filial piety?”

The person he asked didn’t even waver the lamp in their hand.

She replied in an unchanged tone, “Loyalty to the Han and filial piety to parents.”

Had any Yellow Turban troops been present, they would surely deem her an outsider.

But due to Bu Ji and Zhang Bo leading their own loyalists into Puyang City to meet Liang Zhongning, even if Liang Zhongning held a slightly dismissive view of these two colleagues, he had to remain on high alert, leaving little manpower to oversee prisoners.

Additionally, Qiao Yan’s newfound reputation as “the strategist” under Liang’s command made it easy for her to secure a peaceful environment for conversation.

Before stepping into the jail, she had already ensured there were no eavesdroppers and that the phrase “loyalty to the Han” would be unheard by any Yellow Turban soldiers.

Tian Tao paused, then asked, “What about Yanzhou?”

In fact, the powerful in Yanzhou were mostly pragmatic, and among the three points Qiao Yan mentioned—”for Yanzhou,” “for the Han,” and “to balance loyalty and filial piety”—only the phrase “for Yanzhou” struck a chord with him.

If not for this mindset, he wouldn’t have flipped sides from Cao Cao to plot Chen Gong’s acceptance of Lü Bu in the original historical path.

Loyalty and filial piety couldn’t fully persuade this clan leader, but one statement could.

Qiao Yan replied, “For the peace of Yanzhou.”

As she spoke, even in the dim light of the jail, Tian Tao could see that she maintained a steadiness of purpose, resting her left hand behind her back.

This posture might seem more haughty, yet for some reason, in this self-assured “Yellow Turban strategist,” there was an inexplicable restraint.

Her youthful face now slightly bowed, probably from a sense of pressure, mixed with a gentle smile that starkly contrasted her earlier demeanor.

It was as if she were another person…

Or perhaps someone Tian Tao ought to recognize!

When Qiao Yan cleared her throat, Tian Tao suddenly had a moment of clarity, but the next second he realized she had reverted to her previous demeanor.

A name lingered on the tip of his tongue, but ultimately, he refrained from voicing it.

It seemed Qiao Yan’s hinting motion, rather than a direct statement, was a subtle signal of mutual understanding.

Tian Yan, still dazed from this brief exchange, suddenly heard his father ask, “I understand your meaning. So what do you need from the Tian clan?”

Tian Yan, lacking his father and uncle’s cunning, could instantly gauge that while his father’s words weren’t fully pledging loyalty, they were at least a sign of lowered hostility.

Unfortunately, in this exchange, he had no chance to interject.

Within the almost tacit exchange of glances, there was something he couldn’t quite grasp.

The murky shadows of the dungeon were dispersed by the warm light of Qiao Yan’s lamp, creating a strangely intermingled atmosphere of light and dark.

And along the border of these light and shadows, a young boy—barely older than Tian Yan—spoke up without hesitation after deciphering his father’s stance: “I have two matters in which I need your assistance, revered clan leader.”

By the time Qiao Yan walked out of Puyang’s prison, the system felt a lingering sense of unreality, as if still in a dream.

[“This talk of loyalty and filial piety… why does it sound so strange?”] the system murmured.

Earlier, it had tried to prevent Qiao Yan from joining the Yellow Turbans by mentioning, “You’re a descendant of loyalists,” but now, hearing such noble rhetoric emerge during negotiations with the Tian clan made it feel strangely off.

She was not the original Qiao Yan.

As for this Han dynasty, at its declining end, stripped of vitality by the Yellow Turban uprising, how much sense of belonging could she have? The system believed it could judge the overall idea, even without mind-reading abilities.

Chances were, hardly any.

Of course, she had absorbed the original host’s memories.

However, in its pre-employment training, the system was clear that this memory transfer was merely observational, allowing the host to experience the original’s past without emotional ties.

So, the current Qiao Yan wasn’t bound by familial sentiment from the original host.

In that sense, loyalty wasn’t a valid concern, and filial piety didn’t hold any ground either.

As Qiao Yan strolled through the streets of Puyang,

Perhaps due to the Yellow Turbans laying siege, the streets were nearly void of people, and she could quietly explain to the system, “Whether there’s loyalty or filial feelings doesn’t matter. In the late Han period, whether serving as a strategist or in other professions, having a name of righteousness is far more stable than any ordinary background.”

[“But… what’s the use of righteousness?”] the system was a bit baffled.

Qiao Yan smiled and continued, “You should know Kong Rong?”

[“How could I not know the Prefect of Beihai?”]

“Kong Rong concealed Zhang Jian to dodge disaster, and because of his childhood story of sharing pears, his reputation spread over the years, leading to Minister Yang Ci promoting him to an official position.”

“Even Zhuge Liang gained renown as ‘Sleeping Dragon’ before serving Liu Bei.”

“There were many talented individuals in the late Han, but only a few earned the titles of esteemed individuals. If one couldn’t stand out, how could they have the means to haggled over pricing, don’t you think?”

[“I suppose…”] the system contemplated, realizing the logic.

To be in demand, one must possess value.

“So, what name could possibly be more effective than being loyal to the nation or avenging your parents by infiltrating the enemy camp?”

“You have given me an excellent identity.”

As Qiao Yan strolled, if one didn’t get close enough to hear her words, they might think she was simply taking a leisurely walk.

But the system felt those simple phrases delivered from Qiao Yan were overwhelmingly powerful.

It recalled its initial pride in mentoring Qiao Yan on a strategy to help Liang Zhongning conquer the Tian Family Fortress, but now found itself realizing it had underestimated her true intentions!

The coldness in her gaze was unmistakably sharp.

However…

The system couldn’t help but exclaim, [“Liang Zhongning, you’ve been thoroughly hoodwinked!”]

Who would have guessed that Qiao Yan’s assistance in breaking the Tian Family Fortress wasn’t to gain his trust or feed the Yellow Turbans for strategist points, but to create a more suitable environment for negotiations with the Tians while also leveraging the opportunity of the Yellow Turbans’ meeting on the battlefield for something more critical?

And throughout this pursuit of her goals, she didn’t even flinch at the losses incurred by both sides in the earlier fortress confrontation, maintaining a demeanor that revealed her cold heart.

“You have sympathy for him?”

[“Not at all, not at all!”] the system quickly replied. [“I’m a strategist system, not a saintly system next door.”]

Before entering this world, it at least had some training.

In the context of warfare and plotting during the Three Kingdoms, holding onto ideals of reasoning with others and pitying people was a surefire way to exit the fray sooner; wars inevitably led to casualties.

Even if one didn’t need to resort to extremes like Cheng Yu, who, to secure grain for Cao Cao, “raided his own county for provisions, mixing human flesh into the supplies,” they still wouldn’t carry unnecessary guilt over essential sacrifices.

If it were truly so, the system would worry that Qiao Yan would be ensnared by emotional ties at critical moments.

Such a mindset was fitting.

Moreover, if her plans truly materialized, Yanzhou would soon stabilize and the Tian clan would have nothing to say.

Qiao Yan keenly sensed the system’s mention of “next door,” but clearly, now wasn’t the time to inquire further about that; naturally, the system posed another question: [“But how can you be sure the Tian clan will assist you? If you hadn’t acted, they’d still be inside their fortress living comfortably.”]

“If you question this, you underestimate the role of local loyalty,” Qiao Yan replied.

But that wasn’t too surprising; the system appeared very human-like yet showed some deficits in understanding human relationships.

“Do you know whom I was impersonating in the jail?” she answered herself before the system could.

“I was mimicking what her father must have been like in the original Qiao Yan’s memory.”

The Prefect of Rencheng, Qiao Yu.

“Coincidentally, I recently came across a record from the Tians that mentioned the Tians attending a banquet hosted by the Prefect of Dong Commandery, and he was indeed among the attendees.”

She brought back evidence from the fortress, proving it wasn’t a wasted effort. In this “banquet with the Prefect, the son of Zhang Guo Gong attended and he greatly resembled his father,” Qiao Yan saw hope in uniting forces with the Tians.

If Tian Tao and Qiao Yu had merely exchanged pleasantries, she wouldn’t dare leverage the former connection with the Prefect so openly, likely needing to navigate cautiously and perhaps amplify her bargaining chips. But now, no such troubles were necessary.

“Strictly speaking, the definition of local loyalty originates from the Zhou system, with five hundred households forming a party and twelve thousand five hundred households forming a locality. Whether referring to the Liang clan or Qiao Yu’s post in Rencheng, neither can truly be categorized as local loyalties, but as people of Yanzhou, they naturally share a relationship of interconnected fates, a significant foundation for dialogue.”

Qiao Yan grasped this correlation quite well.

In the earlier discussions on the two matters with Tian Tao, she reflected this understanding.

Had she directly requested Tian Tao to surrender any hidden powers the Tian clan might have left in Puyang City, or to assist her in any other way, he might have hesitated, questioning her climbing the social ladder, worrying it might be akin to a bait-and-switch scheme.

However, the two matters she presented were ones he could address verbally without further jeopardizing his position.

That cleared up any confusion.

The first matter was to learn which fortresses around Puyang had strained relations with the Tian clan and would be easier to conquer.

She quickly learned from Tian Tao that it was the Gao clan.

Perhaps it was a good coincidence; whether due to the prevailing spirit of righteousness during the Han or not, Tian Tao had even contemplated hiring wandering knights to resolve the grievance with the Gao clan, even going so far as to scout their fortress’s layout.

The drafted map was among the documents Qiao Yan brought back.

Armed with this map, she could strategize a more targeted attack without needing elaborate deceit.

Of course, with a grain of skepticism, Qiao Yan had her own calculations.

The second matter revolved around Dian Wei.

Qiao Yan inquired whether Dian Wei had any ties to the Tian clan.

Acquiring more intel would bolster her earlier plans to recruit the bodyguard.

As per Tian Tao, Dian Wei could be utilized by the Tian clan because one of his local associates had once killed in Chenliu and fled to Dong Commandery, where the Tian clan sheltered him.

Many powerful figures in the late Han were known to harbor fugitives, making this not too surprising.

Once the Yellow Turban uprising commenced, that individual promptly mentioned Dian Wei’s valor to Tian Tao. As for why he could comfortably invite Dian Wei, it was due to the debts of gratitude from that shared past.

And this individual—

This individual hadn’t perished in the earlier siege!

That was truly fantastic news.

According to Tian Tao, this early bond was evidently not simple; at the very least, Dian Wei’s initial setbacks wouldn’t meet the mark to repay that debt.

But what Qiao Yan didn’t foresee was that when she approached Dian Wei, the formidable warrior simply rejected her proposition, insisting on freeing his compatriot in exchange for his temporary service over three months.

“This deal can be made, but we need to swap tactics,” Dian Wei gruffly stated after listening to Qiao Yan.

His restraints were somewhat looser than when Liang Zhongning had captured him, yet he was still in a position from which even with brute strength, he couldn’t free himself.

But a hero possesses tiger-like valor; despite being bound, Dian Wei’s dignity emanated magnificently.

Intrigued, Qiao Yan asked, “What tactical swap?”

Dian Wei’s unexpected objection made her realize that although he had been tricked into capture, he wasn’t entirely foolish. Otherwise, Cao Cao wouldn’t later appoint him as an officer responsible for guarding his camp.

At the very least, that position required commanding hundreds of soldiers and a sprinkle of cleverness.

Dian Wei’s reply was indeed interesting: “You should keep him locked up, just ensure he has food.”

Qiao Yan pondered and understood Dian Wei’s notion.

His association with the Tian clan was particularly delicate—he was hidden due to his crimes. If released outright, he would be an escapee.

Yanzhou was currently in a dire state of famine, forcing him to seek refuge in the towns or counties, which faced threats from Yellow Turbans or the risk of being apprehended. Under such circumstances, he might find himself compelled to join the Yellow Turban ranks.

Yet being with the Yellow Turbans was no picnic; casualties in battle were inevitable.

Even if he managed to escape with Dian Wei, having a formidable companion didn’t guarantee his safety amidst turbulent warfare.

But being locked in a jail would make a huge difference.

Being captured by the Yellow Turbans would already indicate he was at least taking action against them.

If the Yellow Turbans triumphed, once Qiao Yan’s standing in Liang Zhongning’s camp solidified, releasing him later would still be an option.

However, if the Yellow Turbans crumbled, he’d become a righteous figure; although this wouldn’t entirely absolve his past crimes, it would at least mitigate them.

If luck was on his side, he could encounter a government planning to change the era name to seek auspiciousness due to the turmoil created by the Yellow Turbans.

It should be noted that since the Han dynasty’s foundation, there had been over 130 mass pardons for various reasons including the late emperor’s death, the current emperor’s accession, initiating reign ceremonies, establishing heirs, and even changing years.

Severe crimes turned minor; forgiveness was possible.

In this light, keeping someone in jail truly seemed like the safest bet.

This would guarantee a position of safety regardless of which side emerged victorious.

Dian Wei wasn’t dumb…

Qiao Yan thought to herself, yet she showed no signs of inconsistency on her face, only providing a nod of agreement.

Keeping him in jail posed no loss for her; instead, it offered security. This way, Dian Wei also effectively handed her a leverage point.

Yet, such sentiments need not be communicated to Dian Wei, especially as he appeared pleased with his own cleverness in this matter.

Thus, this exchange concluded with mutual satisfaction.

Qiao Yan secured a mighty protector, Dian Wei gained the freedom to move, and Dian Wei’s loyal compatriot found a safe haven.

Wait, there’s still a victim in this equation.

None other than Liang Zhongning.

It’s worth noting that the meals served in the jail came from that fortress’s stockpile, and he’d prefer to get by on just a bowl of gruel daily; when he saw the resources divided, it felt like someone cutting into his flesh with a knife. Now, his prized general was aligning with Qiao Yan!

Thinking that with Dian Wei’s might, he’d likely carry Mr. Yan back to Gaomi, all the flimsy justifications he’d strewn would lose their impact, and he’d soon receive news of Qiao Yan’s movements, he felt a toothache from both annoyance and anxiety.

But curiosity still gnawed at him.

“How did you manage to persuade him to serve you?” Liang Zhongning couldn’t resist asking, perhaps a tactic to employ in the future.

“He mentioned he admired Master Zheng’s fame for a long time, so…”

“So he wants to learn from you?” Liang Zhongning’s face was one of disbelief.

With Dian Wei’s stature, he clearly wasn’t cut out for academic pursuits! This reasoning held no persuasive power!

If that were the case, Liang Zhongning would start doubting Dian Wei’s intentions.

“No,” Qiao Yan shook her head, “he said he wouldn’t learn from me, but wants to ensure his son studies, so for now, he wants to become familiar with me, making it easier to introduce his son as a student later.”

“……”

Liang Zhongning fell into a lengthy silence before finally responding, “To be honest, my father thought the same thing.”

As for how it would play out…

Perhaps the only result would be a name that seemed cultured.