Chapter 35

“`html

Chapter 35

Can a strategist not ascend the throne? Volume One: The Yellow Turban Rebellion, Chasing a Clear Voice of the Phoenix. Chapter 35: Farming in Luoyang

Who is Fu Shou?

Her father, Fu Shizhong, is Fu Wan, the seventh descendant of the Grand Commandant Fu Zhan from the time of Emperor Guangwu, inheriting Fu Zhan’s title without any marquis’s land.

In the first year of Yanxi, Emperor Huan of Han married Liu Hua, the Princess Yang’an, to Fu Wan.

It’s worth noting that marrying a princess in the Han Dynasty was quite different from later times. The son-in-law could still hold important positions in court and could even have other concubines. Fu Shou was actually Fu Wan’s daughter from a secondary wife.

However, what makes Fu Shou special isn’t just her father and stepmother; she entered the palace at the tender age of eleven and became a favored consort for the ten-year-old Emperor Huan, Liu Xie. By fifteen, she had become the Empress of the Great Han.

Then, when Cao Cao took command under the emperor’s name and acted independently, first General of the Chariots and Cavalry Dong Cheng was killed because of a conspiracy, and then Fu Shou sent a letter to Fu Wan, attempting to conspire again in the political turmoil.

Interestingly, Fu Shou’s letter was only revealed years after Fu Wan’s death, unlike the immediate repercussions of the infamous conspiracy against Dong Cheng, but the outcome was similar.

Fu Shou ended up imprisoned and died, her two sons killed, and the Fu family was thoroughly purged. This also allowed Cao Cao to rightfully establish Cao Jie as Liu Xie’s empress.

In hindsight, connecting the victim of the struggles at the end of the Han to that little girl clinging to the wall is not so easy.

Right now, she seems completely carefree.

As for why she was clinging to the wall…

She probably heard some noise and came to check it out.

When Qiao Yan figured out her identity, she didn’t hold her actions against her for peeking into someone else’s yard.

She walked alongside another servant through the main gate into the back courtyard.

Compared to the desolate front yard, the back courtyard was relatively tidy, but just as Qiao Yan turned her gaze toward the garden, she noticed a plot of land cleared nearby, though it hadn’t been planted yet this year and was dry and hard from lack of watering.

“When the master was in good health these past two years, he enjoyed farming here,” the leading servant explained as he noticed Qiao Yan’s gaze. “Unfortunately, this year, it has not yet warmed up in spring, and the master has fallen too ill to tend to the land. We’re afraid to touch it, so we left it for now.”

“Old Qiao’s desire to farm for self-sufficiency is indeed commendable,” Bi Lan interjected before Qiao Yan could speak.

Qiao Yan couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. Sadly, there are very few like Qiao Xuan, who hold high positions without abundant wealth. Luckily, such people don’t have to witness the decline of the Han and can live beyond seventy, which might also be considered a blessing.

The sunlight of late spring poured down onto the tiles of the hall beneath the gabled roof, casting shadows that illuminated the words “Eternal Good Fortune.” Accompanying it were tiled images of a mother and child deer, the slightly eroded surface still revealing the unique charm of Han culture.

It’s just unfortunate that the vigor and freedom of the mother and child deer did not come along with the sunlight streaming in this room.

Compared to the time Liu Hong came to visit, Qiao Xuan’s condition was clearly worse.

Even though the physicians had prescribed remedies and Liu Hong had even mobilized supplies from the royal treasury to show kindness, it couldn’t change the situation where his life was close to its end, and his health was in serious decline. The medicines would only prolong the inevitable.

When Liu Hong visited, Qiao Xuan was still able to sit up and express his last hopes, but by the time Qiao Yan arrived—

As she leaned down to check on Qiao Xuan, this frail old man seemed to be in a deep sleep, yet also vaguely aware.

When he sensed Qiao Yan’s approach, he slightly lifted his eyelids, but her softly spoken “Grandfather” didn’t stir any reaction in his cloudy eyes.

This response left Qiao Yan feeling quite complex inside.

She previously lingered in Ji Province, clearly not only because she wanted to grab some battle achievements in defeating Zhang Jiao’s brothers.

It was also because she knew that many of her previous actions and gains were somewhat reliant on Qiao Xuan’s influence, but she didn’t know how to face this elder whose principles were “to be strict yet humble.”

The Jishui ceremony made Qiao Yan feel that she had done right by her ancestor and her parents, but Qiao Xuan was different.

In fact, Qiao Yan’s existence could be seen as a means to prevent his offspring from vanishing completely, yet some matters can’t be assessed solely by her standards.

Fortunately, he was now seriously ill and in a state where he couldn’t recognize people, so he only knew someone had come to visit him at his bedside but had no idea who it was; perhaps—

For him, this might also be a relief.

Qiao Yan’s gaze fell on a sword hanging at the foot of the bed and then back on Qiao Xuan’s face.

In Bi Lan’s eyes, this youngest noble thus recognized by merit was kneeling at the bedside, holding the hand of this former Grand Commandant.

Her gaze showed the hesitation and strangeness towards her grandfather whom she had not seen for years, which eventually turned into deep sorrow.

Only the intertwined hands of the elder and the young girl gave an impression of legacy and dignity.

It was the image of one nearing death and another blooming anew.

But before Bi Lan could utter a word of comfort like “do take care,” Qiao Yan calmly spoke, “You all can leave. I want a moment alone with grandfather.”

Bi Lan snapped back to reality and replied, “I won’t linger here then. This time in Ji Province is to quickly report back to the palace; since Lord Qiao has reached the Qiao estate, my task is considered complete.”

Qiao Yan nodded towards him, “Thank you, Chamberlain.”

Bi Lan was escorted out by Cheng Li.

This left only “family” in the Qiao estate for the moment.

The leading old servant didn’t know why the master’s son Qiao Yu hadn’t come, but instead the one referred to as Lord Qiao was Qiao Yan.

However, being a good servant, he didn’t pry and instead helped settle Cheng Li, Dian Wei, and Lu Yuan into the guest rooms of the estate.

With the addition of a few more people—including the gatekeeper and the leading servant—there were now only a handful of people in the estate, and things started getting a bit hectic.

Fortunately, Lu Yuan had once been the lady of the house and had experience in managing things. After checking with Qiao Yan, she quickly took charge of the place, getting a rough idea of the estate’s assets and sending someone to the East Market to procure some supplies.

With Dian Wei around, it made carrying stuff much easier.

And before Cheng Li could make use of his skills in Leping, he already began utilizing his eloquence to chat with the gatekeeper about the residents of Yanxi.

Even if they wouldn’t be residing in Luoyang for long, it was important to know what kind of neighbors they had.

According to the gatekeeper, among the nine households in Yanxi, Princess Yang’an and Fu Wan’s residence occupied the most land, but being neighbors to the imperial son-in-law and the former Grand Commandant surely meant the others weren’t simple folk either.

For example, the owner of the house next to Qiao Xuan was Liang Hu, the Minister of the Selection Department.

The Selection Department was essentially the Ministry of Personnel during the Eastern Han, responsible for document selection and awards.

Liang Hu’s rise to this position was due to his schooling at the Hongdu Gate Academy set up by Liu Hong in the first year of Guanghe, making him somewhat of a disciple of the emperor.

Opposite Qiao Xuan resided Yang Xu, a clerk from the Grand Commandant’s Office, who would become known as the “Suspended Fish Governor” in the future.

Thus, the identities of the residents here were not hard to ascertain.

Fu Wan’s shizhong, Liang Hu’s Minister of the Selection Department, Qiao Xuan’s Tai Zhong Da Fu, and Yang Xu’s clerk from the Grand Commandant’s Office—all mostly held official, albeit minor positions.

This didn’t present an environment that required Qiao Yan to be particularly cautious or eager to curry favor, but there were still opportunities there to make use of.

As she stepped out of Qiao Xuan’s bedroom and into the courtyard, she heard Cheng Li’s report.

“Thank you, Mr. Zhongde,” Qiao Yan replied.

Knowing who the neighbors were undoubtedly allowed her to draft her future plans.

But when Lu Yuan mentioned that there wasn’t much money left in the household and that they might need to use Tian Tao as a token of gratitude towards the Yellow Turbans, Qiao Yan couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on.

They say living in the capital is tough, and it was true back in the Tang dynasty, and it certainly was true in Luoyang.

The East Market was indeed cheaper than the West Market, but being under the emperor’s feet meant living costs were never that low. Just thinking that her 300 tons of rice would have to part with some before even reaching Leping made her consider some ideas for income.

But trade in the Han Dynasty was not as developed as in the Song Dynasty. With her title as County Marquis, she couldn’t simply devalue herself like that. Any hope for profit would probably have to come from—

The Son of Heaven in the imperial city.

As for what she needed to do…

While Lu Yuan and Cheng Li were each busy with their tasks, Qiao Yan held Qiao Xuan’s hand and talked for quite a while. However, she didn’t mention Qiao Yu’s death; she only spoke of the victories against the Yellow Turbans to calm the loyal heart of this venerable figure, bringing some peace to the old man.

“`

“What a soothing experience.”

Though Qiao Yan had the original owner’s memories, both she and the original owner had barely any past with this grandfather, making it hard to say there was any grandparent-grandchild bond.

However, after she finished saying those words, she noticed Qiao Xuan’s hand, which she was holding, slowly started to grasp back, as if suddenly filled with life. This was actually more emotionally stirring for Qiao Yan than any grandparental affection.

Of course, after this almost miraculous gesture, Qiao Xuan didn’t fully wake up. His murky gaze flickered briefly on Qiao Yan’s face before quickly sliding back into a deep slumber.

Qiao Yan wasn’t great at judging life and death, so she could only estimate that, considering the medical care conditions of the Han Dynasty, he might last another half a month at best.

Half a month…

Just as she thought of this, she suddenly heard Cheng Li ask, “What are Marquis Qiao’s plans right now?”

After pondering for a moment, Qiao Yan replied, “It’s not much of a plan; let’s start by farming.”

Even Cheng Li, who knew Qiao Yan had her ways, couldn’t help but be a bit shocked by this decision.

But then he heard her say, “I hope grandfather can see new sprouts before he passes,” and he sensed something of her intent.

He cupped his hands and replied, “Marquis Qiao is wise.”

Whether she was wise or not was up for debate.

Though the small patch of vegetable bed Qiao Xuan had opened in the backyard was hardly expansive, digging up land that hadn’t been worked in over half a year and planting new seeds was still quite a job.

If she had the same physical condition as when she first arrived here, Qiao Yan definitely wouldn’t have pursued such a hard task.

Luckily, her current physique was still up for it.

Dian Wei was somewhat puzzled why Qiao Yan wanted to do this herself instead of letting him, a capable and strong worker, handle it, but before he could voice his question, Lu Yuan had already sent him off as a runner between the East and West Guo.

Then a voice came from the wall, asking softly, “Is farming really that fun?”

Qiao Yan sat up straight, wiped the sweat from her forehead, looked in the direction the voice came from, and saw Fu Shou peeking over the wall, looking at her with wide, curious eyes.

This child’s wonder didn’t irritate her at all; it lightened her mood after all the heaviness she had felt about the chaos of the late Han, so she generously returned a smile and asked, “Is climbing the wall fun? Aren’t you afraid of falling?”

“Not at all,” Fu Shou replied firmly, “I have someone holding the ladder. I’m just curious because this yard was so quiet before, like no one lived here, and now suddenly there’s someone. By the way, you haven’t answered my question yet?”

“It’s not really about fun or not,” Qiao Yan replied. “If you wanted to prepare a gift for your parents, would you skip it just because it seemed hard?”

Fu Shou tilted her head, not quite understanding why Qiao Yan linked gift-giving with farming, but since Qiao Yan was older and presumably knew more, she answered, “Of course I wouldn’t find it hard.”

Qiao Yan replied, “Well, that’s my situation right now.”

Fu Shou glanced at the ground that Qiao Yan had already worked over, then at her sister still holding the farming tools, and figured that what her father said about “not understanding” perhaps made a lot of sense.

Just as she was about to ask again, she turned her gaze back toward her yard and saw her mother approaching, quickly saying goodbye to Qiao Yan and climbing down in a hurry.

Qiao Yan shook her head with a laugh and began planting the mustard seeds she had bought a few days ago.

The variety of vegetables in the Han Dynasty was quite limited; mustard sprouted in twelve days, and in the current ground temperature, it could survive. Plus, it had a name that sounded nicer than garlic or scallions.

This was her first choice.

Compared to Qiao Yan farming in the West Guo of the capital, Liu Hong had it much easier, having received tidings of the Yellow Turban Rebellion settling down.

He didn’t have any of those rumors going around like some grand palace lifestyle gossip about extravagant baths, but he was riding in a donkey cart, enjoying a lavish life that was probably pretty spot on. It likely also gave credence to the saying “The winds rise in the East of Luoyang, and scents waft over to the West.”

By the end of May in Luoyang, with summer approaching, the city had finally shaken off the lingering chill of early spring and was starting to feel the heat.

The residents of Luoyang’s city walls had to endure the heat while dealing with the less-than-pleasant living conditions of animal waste littering the streets. Liu Hong, however, didn’t have to worry about such things.

At this moment, he was lounging under a tree on a soft mat, with a nice cool breeze from a basin of ice beside him, fanned by a young attendant.

In this relaxed atmosphere, he casually tossed a feathered arrow at a pot up ahead, missing entirely, but didn’t show any sign of annoyance.

As the arrow lightly clinked against the pot, he suddenly called out, “Zhang Rang.”

Zhang Rang quickly walked over to Liu Hong’s side.

Liu Hong lifted his gaze and caught the look of reverence in Zhang Rang’s eyes.

This wasn’t just a fake show from Zhang Rang; after all, he had only been away from Liu Hong while delivering an imperial edict, yet Liu Hong had already made quite a number of earth-shattering moves.

Whether it was granting Qiao Yan the title of County Marquis for her significant contributions in quelling the Yellow Turban, publicly reprimanding Minister Yuan Wei and promoting his wife to Grand Historian, or announcing several benevolent decrees towards the Three Dukes just days before Zhang Rang and Bi Lan arrived in Luoyang—it all showcased Liu Hong’s political maneuvering.

He previously moved from the North Palace to the Southern Palace, claiming it was in the interest of discussing matters with the Three Dukes due to the Yellow Turban Rebellion, but it was clear this was a tactic to both suppress and woo them back—calming any previous disturbances.

But perhaps only people like Zhang Rang knew that Liu Hong’s reliance on the Three Dukes was not entirely genuine; otherwise, he wouldn’t have sought Jian Shuo for secret discussions recently. At the moment, however, financial constraints and timing prevented him from taking those bold moves, putting aside his ambition to form the Western Garden Eight Schools.

Zhang Rang cautiously asked, “What are Your Majesty’s orders?”

“My Marquis of Leping came to the capital with you; what is she doing nowadays?” Liu Hong asked, casually tossing another arrow as he spoke.

Zhang Rang had been waiting for Liu Hong to ask about this.

Considering Qiao Yan was the first female marquis in hundreds of years since the Han, it was odd that Liu Hong only asked about her seven days after her arrival.

But thinking about it, Liu Hong promoting the County Marquis might not mean he was out of sync with the current officials, and so it wasn’t too surprising he just now remembered her.

He respectfully replied, “Your Majesty, I heard Liang Menghuang mention while delivering a letter that she is farming at Marquis Qiao’s residence.”

Liang Menghuang was Liang Hu.

He wasn’t just esteemed by Liu Hong for being from the Hongdu Gate Academy; Liu Hong was also fond of calligraphy, and Liang Hu, having studied under Shi Yiguan, was quite an exceptional calligrapher in the running script.

In the future, his scrolls would be hung in Cao Cao’s tent for daily viewing, and right now, he was favored by Liu Hong, often sending works to the palace for appraisal, and casually reporting Qiao Yan’s current situation to Zhang Rang.

“Farming?” Liu Hong paused at this reply, then chuckled, “Why would my Marquis of Leping do such peasant work?”

Zhang Rang replied, “I heard it was because when Qiao Xuan was able to get up, he cultivated a vegetable plot at home. The Marquis didn’t want her grandfather to see the yard overgrown and the vegetable beds abandoned before he passed, so she took it upon herself to dig and sow, hoping to show her grandfather new sprouts and the Han Dynasty a glimmer of hope.”

“I see…” Liu Hong pondered for a moment and said, “Marquis Qiao is truly filial; it’s commendable she has such intentions.”

Zhang Rang then heard Liu Hong ask after shooting his third arrow, “In your opinion, Zhang Rang, should I summon this Marquis of Leping to hear her thoughts on Zhang Jiao’s arguments?”

This was a hard question to answer.

Zhang Rang pondered Liu Hong’s thoughts. Perhaps he was feeling a bit of regret since the promotion of that county marquis, which is why he hadn’t seen Qiao Yan yet.

Yet hearing she was farming at home rekindled some goodwill and sparked a thought of wanting to see her.

But how to phrase that appropriately…

Before Zhang Rang could speak, Bi Lan had already jumped in, saying, “Your Majesty, if you truly wish to see her, she’s probably not available today.”

Hearing Bi Lan say this piqued Liu Hong’s interest, prompting him to ask, “Why is that?”

Bi Lan replied, “I just heard that Marquis Qiao hasn’t gone out much in recent days, and today she only went out because she wanted to see the majestic Lingtai, Mingtang, and Biyong. She hadn’t even gotten far, just reached the entrance of the Imperial Academy, when someone stopped her.”

“Who dares to block a county marquis in the street?” Liu Hong raised an eyebrow.

“It was none other than Minister Yang Xiu’s son. Young Master Yang is talented and had heard of the Marquis of Leping, so he wanted to challenge her to a contest, especially with the Monthly Appraisal coming up on June 1st. He wanted to see who could gain Xu Zijiang’s favor.”

“So what now?” Liu Hong, intrigued, sat up straight and asked.

Bi Lan replied, “The two have already gone to see Xu Zijiang, but as for the results… I truly have no idea.”