Prologue 11: Each Finds Their Place (Part One)

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In the study of the Grand General’s residence, Sima Zhao of Jin sat upright before his desk, beside him a large basket filled with bamboo slips—petitions from ministers pleading for Shi Chong’s clemency.

Even Zhong Hui, who was usually arrogant and disdainful, had submitted a memorial to Sima Zhao stating: Shi Chong was not yet twenty years old, inexperienced in politics, and this was his first official post, making him vulnerable to deception and manipulation. Moreover, he was merely a lone attendant guarding the emperor, essentially powerless. Even without Shi Chong, what happened would have occurred regardless. It would be better to release him with a low-profile settlement, as this matter was not worth complicating further.

Public opinion on this matter was overwhelmingly critical of Sima Zhao’s lawlessness. Many secretly praised Shi Chong’s loyalty to the state and filial piety, leaving Sima Zhao humiliated, caught between conflicting pressures.

Domestically, Shi Chong was the son of Shi Bao, a heavyweight figure within the Sima clan. Shi Bao had loyally served the Sima family; Shi Chong was fulfilling his father’s loyalty by guarding the emperor alone, a dedication worthy of historical record.

If you kill him, Sima Zhao, will you no longer need loyal ministers when you become emperor? Won’t your subordinates learn from your example and flock to powerful factions? Aren’t you afraid of that?

Simply put, all loyal ministers like Shi Chong have been killed off by you. Who would dare to be loyal in the future?

This was the mainstream opinion among Sima Zhao’s close confidants; killing Shi Chong would be a tragedy akin to killing the fox after the rabbit dies.

Externally, Sima Zhao’s men stabbing the emperor in public was an unprecedented scandal. Some officials openly submitted memorials accusing Sima Zhao of a brazen assassination attempt, openly condemning him.

Again, if you intend to usurp the throne one day, Sima Zhao, and the emperor can be stabbed to death on the street by a powerful minister, aren’t you afraid future generations will imitate this? Who else behaves like you?

Such issues left Sima Zhao deeply troubled. He hated Shi Chong and others, including Shi Gandang, for their hypocrisy and betrayal, and he was almost ready to kill them on the spot. Yet these men could not be killed, at least not without proper legal procedures.

In recent days, he had been exhausted dealing with the aftermath of Cao Mao’s death.

To untangle this mess, Sima Zhao reluctantly resorted to three drastic measures.

First, he presented a memorial to the court asking the ministers to decide on the successor to the emperor. He proposed establishing Prince Yan’s son, Cao Huan, the Duke of Changdao Xiang, as the new emperor, changing the era name to Jingyuan. This implied that he was not usurping the throne by killing Cao Mao but that it was an accidental act of his subordinates.

Second, he petitioned Empress Dowager Guo to grant Cao Mao a royal burial, but insisted that the abolished emperor’s status and previous era names be changed to “Duke of Gao Gui Xiang” years.

Third, to lessen the impact of regicide, Sima Zhao requested the court revoke honors such as “Duke of Jin” and the “Nine Bestowments” previously bestowed on him, punishing his negligence that led to Cao Mao’s unexpected death.

Frankly, these three moves were self-contradictory and painful attempts at damage control, requiring him to wear a façade of humility and caution.

Years of effort were undone overnight, and he could no longer emulate Cao Pi’s smooth and benevolent takeover of Cao Wei from Han.

The aristocratic elite all thought: You stabbed the emperor in broad daylight—what kind of virtue is that? Just sit tight in the Grand General’s residence!

Nevertheless, after these three measures, criticism of Sima Zhao lessened; at least he did not immediately establish a new dynasty after killing Cao Mao.

With the main conflict eased, the spotlight turned to fiery aristocrat Shi Chong. His fate was not crucial, but he represented an important political barometer. Many wanted to protect him; it had become the dominant opinion at court.

As for Shi Gandang, no one cared. Who would bother about a Shi family servant? Not being executed on the spot was already a huge favor to Shi Bao and Li Yin.

Just as Sima Zhao was troubled, reading through the letters, a servant reported that Yang Hu requested an audience.

Yang Hu’s family background was not ordinary. His full sister, Yang Huiyu, was Sima Shi’s principal wife (second wife). Sima Zhao’s mother-in-law was also from the Yang clan, making them closely related.

Yang Hu himself was highly capable and virtuous, at the prime of his political career and physical vigor.

While others could be ignored, Yang Hu’s request could not be refused.

Upon meeting, Sima Zhao immediately noticed Yang Hu’s worried and haggard expression.

He asked with concern, “Uncle (Yang Hu’s courtesy name), are you facing some difficult matter?”

Yang Hu nodded, “Indeed. As a relative of the Sima family, I feel uneasy about the current situation and have been sleepless.”

Hearing this, Sima Zhao’s expression darkened, his smile fading.

“Grand General, I came only to speak about Shi Chong, not other matters,” Yang Hu quickly explained.

Sima Zhao’s face relaxed somewhat. If Yang Hu intended to lecture him on sparing Cao Mao, he would have shown him out immediately—too old a story to listen to.

“Speak then. I’m close to losing patience with Shi Chong,” Sima Zhao sighed.

He needed to kill Shi Chong to create a political spectacle among the aristocratic circles, a display of “prosperity in submission and downfall in rebellion.”

“Grand General, killing Shi Chong is easy, but winning the people’s hearts is difficult. Shi Chong acted on the emperor’s orders—that is the duty of a loyal minister.

Even if guilty, his crime does not merit death.

If you kill Shi Chong, and someone later resists, they will not be so willing to die like him. For instance, if the Shi family stirs trouble again by secretly returning to Huainan to rebel, wouldn’t that be more embarrassing for you?

Since Shi Chong is fulfilling filial duties, it’s better to honor him properly. Don’t mention serving the emperor; just praise his filial piety. Thus, he is not guilty but meritorious. The court should recognize him and separate his identity from that of the Duke of Gao Gui Xiang.

Shi Chong is Shi Chong; the Duke of Gao Gui Xiang is the Duke of Gao Gui Xiang.”

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Yang Hu carefully advised Sima Zhao.

Seeing thoughtfulness flicker on Sima Zhao’s face, Yang Hu pressed on, “This way, Commander Shi will feel grateful to you, and the aristocratic youth will see your magnanimity. ‘Tempered steel is not as soft as a gentle finger.’ This is far better than killing Shi Chong. If one day Shi Chong remembers your mercy, how could he not be loyal to the Sima family?”

Yang Hu was skilled at guiding conversation and persuading opponents. His words were logical and struck right at Sima Zhao’s concerns.

The Sima family had already stabbed the emperor on the street and, like Sima Yi and Sima Shi before them, spilled blood and desecrated graves. To outsiders, the Sima clan was ruthless and notorious among the aristocracy. Killing Shi Chong would only add to their brutal reputation.

What good would it do?

Instead, sparing Shi Chong and even promoting him would set an example, emphasize filial piety, and greatly ease the aristocratic elite’s anxiety about the Sima regime.

Wasn’t that more effective than murder?

Moreover, Shi Bao had managed Huainan for years. With his son dead, guess who would bear the grudge?

Yang Hu was telling Sima Zhao there was no need for rashness or exaggeration. Simply award Shi Chong for filial devotion and turn a passive situation into an advantage.

“Why do you plead for Shi Chong, an unrelated man?” Sima Zhao asked, though he had already accepted Yang Hu’s advice.

“I do not plead for Shi Chong, but for the Sima family. After all, my sister married into the Sima family; she is my closest kin.

I come with personal motives as well,” Yang Hu admitted honestly.

“Very well, then proceed as you say.

You shall petition the court to pardon Shi Chong; I will promote him and send him away. That will settle the matter.

You will screen the prisoners to prevent Jia Chong from taking revenge,” Sima Zhao said with a smile.

His maneuver was clever: forgiving Shi Bao’s son and appointing Shi Bao as Colonel of the Capital Garrison won loyalty and saved face—a two-bird-one-stone strategy. With such favors, Shi Bao would remain a trusted ally.

“By the way, Grand General, may I handle Shi Chong’s attendant?”

Yang Hu requested.

“That one? I heard he offended Jia Chong and even insulted me. Since you want him, he will be spared death but punished. One hundred blows with the military baton as a warning, then three months locked up to break his spirit.”

Sima Zhao waved impatiently.

Most adopted sons were practically slaves; their registration as “attendants” ranked just above slaves and below commoners.

Sima Zhao barely cared about such people—they merely followed Shi Chong’s orders, like dogs.

If not for Jia Chong’s insistence on a formal execution, Sima Zhao would have preferred the prison guards to kill him quietly.

Since Yang Hu wanted him, it was a minor favor to grant.

Divine mercy for ants is often not generosity but indifference.

After leaving the Grand General’s residence, Yang Hu went straight to Li Yin’s home, where he was greeted by the pure and beautiful young lady of the Li family.

“Lord Yang, has the matter been settled?” Li Wan asked anxiously, feigning calm but burning with impatience inside.

“Since it is a marriage decree from the emperor, I must fulfill it, though some hardship is inevitable,” Yang Hu laughed heartily and entered Li Yin’s study.

Even if Li Wan had not asked, Yang Hu would have found a way to rescue Shi Gandang—not for other reasons but to fulfill Cao Mao’s last wish.

That marriage decree was Cao Mao’s final edict. The dead emperor’s wishes must be honored, especially by those with a sense of duty.

After Li Wan left, Yang Hu sat opposite Li Yin and asked directly, “Lord Li, I have handled my affairs; how about yours?”

“I have arranged a position for Lord Yang as a Secret Techniques Supervisor, in charge of literature and archives—a leisurely post. As for your release, I think it is premature.

The Grand General, in his quest for power, will likely prepare to attack Shu or Wu. You must endure for a few years; opportunity will come.

I will soon propose to the Grand General to demote you to Secret Techniques Supervisor to avoid envy. When the time is right, you may decide your path,” Li Yin nodded lightly.

He was the blind spot among the Grand General’s many aides—low-key but wielding great power.

Li Yin never accepted gifts and lived modestly, earning a reputation as a hard and stubborn rock.

But no fool could survive in the Grand General’s residence.

Li Wan was anxious; Li Yin was calm. He easily secured Shi Gandang’s release. Being an attendant had its perks—simply dismissed at a gesture from those in power.

Of course, Shi Gandang had cursed Sima Zhao fiercely that day and was severely beaten with the military baton. This was a classic case of “death sentence spared, but punishment unavoidable.”

…

In the prison of the inner palace, several cells were specially cleaned and reserved for so-called “noble” prisoners.

They were well-ventilated, cleaned daily, with chamber pots changed regularly.

Though not comparable to the quarters for aristocratic prisoners, these were far better than those of common inmates.

Shi Chong lived in one such cell, had books to read, and could light torches at night. The Shi family had even sent a beautiful courtesan to “quench his thirst” the previous night.

The soft moans of the young woman echoed through the cell at night.

But no one minded; everyone agreed this was Shi Chong’s due treatment.

Now every aristocratic youth regarded him as a role model. Whenever Shi Chong was mentioned, all thumbs were raised in admiration for his loyalty and filial devotion.

Envy and jealousy were evident.

As for Shi Gandang, no one cared or remembered him. At most, he was mentioned briefly as the attendant who cursed fiercely during the emperor’s dramatic counterattack.

Shi Gandang’s stirring words—such as “The righteous spirit remains in the heavens, the loyal heart shines through the ages” and “The Cao family nurtured soldiers for fifty years; today is the day of honor and sacrifice”—had become attributed to Shi Chong in aristocratic circles.

The entire affair was reimagined as Shi Chong fulfilling filial duties, planning, participating, and bravely facing death; the emperor was stabbed to protect Shi Chong by Cheng Ji—a touching tale of aristocratic loyalty and brotherly trust.

Shi Chong did everything; Shi Gandang had no role. His name barely circulated among the elite, remembered only by a few powerful figures.

To put it bluntly, Shi Chong was the fruit of Shi Gandang’s labor, with none of the credit left to the latter.

Early that morning, Shi Bao arrived at the prison in good spirits.

He saw Shi Chong seated on a soft cushion reading and asked the jailer to open the cell door. Taking the keys himself, he entered.

“Ji Lun, are you comfortable inside?” Shi Bao asked with a smile.

“Very comfortable. I can quietly read,” Shi Chong looked up, then resumed reading the bamboo slips.

“Your risk was well worth it. The Grand General cannot kill you and will instead promote you. The appointment as magistrate of Xiuwu County has been issued. Today, I am here to bring you out,” Shi Bao said, patting Shi Chong’s shoulder affectionately.

Shi Chong’s apparent imprisonment was a sham, a bold rebuke of Sima Zhao, securing his own covert political capital—the admiration of the aristocratic elite.

In this world of flattery and reputation, mere ability was not enough; one needed vast renown.

The greater the fame, the higher the official rank attainable.

Fame set the ceiling for one’s career; ability set the floor.

After this ordeal, Shi Chong’s reputation soared to unprecedented heights.

What remained was to achieve political merit in local governance.

Once he earned achievements and reported back to Luoyang, he could further boost his fame with genuine accomplishments.

Shi Bao was confident that Shi Chong might one day rise to the Three Dukes or Nine Ministers—no surprise at all!

“Father, thanks to Shi Gandang’s involvement, I want to bring him along as an aide when I go to Xiuwu County,” Shi Chong placed the bamboo slips down and asked.

“That… might be difficult,” Shi Bao frowned.

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