Prologue 3: That Year, Standing Like a Lackey

If Shi Bao could only be considered an “old hand” of the Sima family, then Zhong Hui was Sima Zhao’s most trusted confidant.

Zhong Hui was highly favored not only because of his handsome appearance and genuine talent but more importantly because of his unwavering loyalty to Sima Zhao at critical moments.

When Sima Shi suddenly died from an eye ailment and Sima Zhao rose to power amid Cao Mao’s schemes, Zhong Hui had stood firm on his side. He later undertook many of the dirty tasks that earned Sima Zhao enemies.

In the world of Tianlong people, loyalty is rewarded—and it must be.

At thirty-five, Zhong Hui was already serving as the secretary in the Grand General’s headquarters, a role reserved only for Sima Zhao’s inner circle. Alongside this position, he held the title of Yellow Gate Attendant and was ennobled as Marquis of Dongwu Pavilion with a fief of three hundred households.

There was no one younger with a higher rank anywhere in the court.

Therefore, besides the usual scholarly refinement and noble aura common among aristocratic offspring, Zhong Hui carried an unmistakable arrogance visible to the naked eye.

King for king, general for general, shrimp for shrimp.

When Zhong Hui arrived, he made a grand entrance, carrying himself with considerable bearing. Accompanied by more than a dozen followers, any onlooker might have thought he came to seize the estate.

Of course, it was also possible that Zhong Hui, having made many enemies, brought extra guards out of fear of assassination.

This meeting was so exclusive that not even Shi Bao’s adopted son, Shigandang—a mere minor retainer of the Shi family—was allowed in. Not even Shi Bao’s legitimate sons, Shi Chong and Shi Qiao, were permitted; they had to wait outside the study.

Shi Chong stared fixedly at the study door, a flicker of resentment on his face.

“During the suppression of Zhuge Dan’s rebellion in Huainan, Zhong Hui acted arrogantly, issuing orders to the generals under the guise of the Grand General’s authority. Most of the credit for victory went to him, but if they lost, he would just walk away and leave a mess behind. His ability is questionable, but his schemes are endless. Except towards the Simas, he bullies everyone else. In my opinion, Zhong Hui’s violent death is not far off.”

Standing nearby like a lackey, Shi Chong muttered to Shigandang, who was quietly observing.

Shigandang glanced at him and nodded without comment, inwardly deeply shaken.

So even within the Tianlong people, some could clearly foresee Zhong Hui’s fate! Shigandang knew the “answer” and was unsurprised.

But for a young man like Shi Chong to discern Zhong Hui’s destiny was impressive—he indeed had some strategy and insight.

Shi Chong’s words might be exaggerated; Zhong Hui was not necessarily so worthless. However, his arrogance was blatant and obvious to all.

“Sixth Brother, I have some private matters I’d like to discuss with you alone,” Shigandang signaled to Shi Chong. He already had a plan and was refining its details.

Shi Chong nodded and led him to a pavilion in the Xianglan Courtyard.

“What private matters?” Shi Chong whispered.

“I believe the emperor may already be prepared for total destruction,” Shigandang said, voice barely above a whisper.

“How do you figure that?” Shi Chong asked, puzzled. An emperor killing powerful ministers was understandable; plotting against them with intrigues was nothing unusual.

In other words, to consolidate imperial authority, any despicable means could be justified and was not surprising.

But for an emperor to perish together with his ministers was extraordinary.

Such cases were rare in history.

“The emperor chatted with his adoptive father all night, but only to sow discord between the Shi family and the Grand General. In other words, the emperor is not trying to win over the Shi family but to prevent his adoptive father from guarding the capital. Given his adoptive father’s competence in organizing the imperial guards, he could easily trap the emperor, but others might not manage that.”

Shigandang explained the stakes.

Shi Chong, a clever man, suddenly understood.

“So you think the emperor’s time is short?” Shi Chong made a chopping gesture; Shigandang nodded silently.

They fell silent. If true, this would have tremendous consequences.

Of course, the emperor’s conflict with Sima Zhao was none of their concern. What mattered was how to gain political capital from the situation.

If they could not profit, why bother—better to return to the study and drink.

“I believe the Grand General’s attempt to receive the nine bestowments, advance to Duke of Jin, and become Prime Minister will not succeed. He may never become emperor or change the dynasty. All the preparations the Sima family has made for usurpation will dissipate due to the emperor’s impulsiveness. The emperor intends to sacrifice himself to stall the Sima family’s rise.”

Shigandang’s words were startling but did not frighten Shi Chong because he truly believed them.

A few years ago, Shi Bao had met the emperor Cao Mao and told Shi Chong afterward: The emperor is no ordinary man—wise and heroic.

Shi Bao’s father never spoke politely in front of his sons. If Cao Mao were a worthless puppet, Shi Bao would have complained about him.

So Shi Chong knew Cao Mao was no fool and fully aware of his precarious situation.

He also knew none around him could be trusted.

“What should I do then?” Shi Chong asked, feigning indifference.

The Wei state had long entered an era of limited expansion. The offspring of officials from earlier times were entering politics, only to find the old guards still firmly in place, leaving them only bitter, exhausting, and uncomfortable positions.

How to rise quickly was the pressing question for these “second-generation” officials.

Shi Chong was no exception.

“Sixth Brother, dare I ask, if the Sima family truly commits regicide, what will become the rarest commodity?”

Shigandang asked.

The young Tianlong noble pondered deeply.

“If the Sima family kills the emperor, the most precious thing will be loyalty to the sovereign. At least in the Sima era, ministers will not dare to profess loyalty, and the ruler will not trust; both will guard against each other.”

Shi Chong shook his head with a sigh.

The young Shi Chong still had some patriotic sentiment; after all, even the old generation had been passionate in their youth.

At that moment, Shi Qiao, the third brother and the one who had notified them of Zhong Hui’s arrival, appeared at the pavilion.

Shi Chong was usually high-tempered and difficult.

Among the brothers, he was closest only to Shi Qiao and their younger sister.

Seeing Shi Qiao, Shi Chong greeted him hurriedly.

“Third Brother, why are you here at the Xianglan Courtyard instead of attending to Father?”

“Zhong Hui, that fool, has left. Father wants you… and this gentleman to go to the study. There’s something important,” Shi Qiao said, seeming hesitant.

Shi Chong pressed, “Is there something you’re reluctant to say?”

“No secrets exactly, but Father looks very displeased. I guess Zhong Hui angered him,” Shi Qiao sighed.

Zhong Hui was now the hotshot by Sima Zhao’s side, his eyes practically on top of his head. Even facing Shi Bao, an important insider to the Simas, he showed little respect.

Shi Qiao glanced at Shigandang, unimpressed by his dignified appearance but unsure why Shi Bao and Shi Chong valued him so highly.

But that was none of his concern.

As for the “adopted son” status, better left unmentioned. Shi Qiao himself had a follower who was Shi Bao’s adopted son—just a close retainer.

But so what? All status must be earned by strength.

The three went to Shi Bao’s study.

The great commander, promoted from humble origins by Sima Yi, was seated with furrowed brows before his desk, silent and somber, exuding a heavy cloud of gloom.

He looked like he wanted to say, “I’m very troubled right now.”

Shigandang noticed the study had few bamboo slips—much fewer than Shi Chong’s room.

“Take a look,” Shi Bao said, spreading out two silk letters on the desk.

One was signed by Wang Shen, the other by Wang Ye—both close imperial attendants.

Both letters were denunciations claiming that the emperor had deployed armored soldiers in the Lingyun Terrace of the Luoyang palace.

In a few days, during court assembly, the soldiers would emerge en masse to behead Sima Zhao.

Of course, these were copies; the originals were in Sima Zhao’s hands.

Wang Shen and Wang Ye had betrayed their souls to the devil and would walk the path of darkness as Sima Zhao’s informants.

Human treachery and cruelty were truly unmatched.

The three exchanged looks, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

It was not strange that the two Wangs wrote to Sima Zhao. But that Sima Zhao entrusted Zhong Hui to bring these letters to Shi Bao was suggestive.

Shi Chong first broke the silence.

“By now, probably all Luoyang officials know. The emperor’s careless actions mean disaster is near.”

“Jilun’s assessment is correct; I think the same,” Shi Bao nodded approvingly.

Suddenly, he looked at Shigandang. “What do you think?”

Nothing special—Sima Zhao doesn’t want to dirty his own hands and seeks a sharp blade to kill for him; you are the perfect choice for this counterattack, Shigandang thought silently.

He bowed and said, “The Grand General hopes his adoptive father will suppress the emperor’s forces. But the Grand General has not fathomed the emperor’s intentions. So the more the adoptive father acts, the worse it gets; the less he does, the better. Doing nothing is best.”

He spoke a tautology, making Shi Bao frown in dissatisfaction and cough before pressing, “How exactly should we respond? Speak freely.”

“Adoptive father might feign illness, claiming he fell ill after returning from Yangzhou and is now bedridden. He cannot manage affairs, attend court, or leave the separate residence, thus buying time.

The emperor and Grand General are plotting against each other; it won’t last long. The truth will soon be revealed.”

Shigandang explained carefully.

Shi Qiao glanced at him, sensing his quick wit and strategic mind.

“That sounds right,” Shi Bao sighed, not objecting.

But this alone was insufficient; after all, Sima Yi himself was a master of feigning illness!

Pretending to be ill in front of the Sima family might be a bit like showing off one’s skills to an expert.

“Also, Third Brother, to fulfill filial duty, you should go to the Grand General’s study to seek medical texts and search for treatments for adoptive father’s illness,” Shigandang told Shi Qiao.

“Father, this…” Shi Qiao looked troubled. He had no heart for officialdom and disliked the Simas.

“Jilun, you go for Third Brother. The mission to the Grand General’s residence is nominally for medical advice but truly as a hostage to reassure the Grand General,” Shi Bao decided, sensing Shi Qiao’s reluctance and choosing Shi Chong instead.

Though Shi Chong was foul-tempered, he was outgoing and well-connected, more reliable than Shi Qiao.

The father feigns illness and the son becomes hostage—Sima Zhao should feel assured now.

“Ha! This small matter is my duty. I’ll leave tomorrow,” Shi Chong laughed heartily, accepting the task.

Shi Bao nodded slightly and turned to Shigandang. “You accompany Jilun. If anything happens, report back immediately.”

“Please rest assured, adoptive father,” Shigandang answered without bargaining.

Shi Bao looked disappointed at Shi Qiao, whose talent was evident but whose courage and resolve fell short of Shi Chong’s.

After the discussion, Shi Bao dismissed his two eldest sons, leaving only Shigandang.

“You seemed reluctant earlier. Now you may speak freely—no taboos,” Shi Bao said solemnly.

As a battlefield victor, he had keener survival instincts than Shi Chong and others.

“Adoptive father, the emperor intends to perish with the Grand General—he no longer wishes to live. So all the Grand General’s deployments are wrong; they fall into the emperor’s trap!” Shigandang spoke bluntly.

“Is that so?” Shi Bao’s face showed shock, then calm, murmuring to himself, “So it is. The emperor is indeed wise and valiant but lacks the mandate of heaven. What a pity.”

There was regret in his tone, but not enough to sacrifice his entire family to support the emperor.

Man must look out for himself above all.

“Adoptive father, I have a plan that, if successful, will greatly benefit the Shi family.

If it fails, only Jilun and I will die by the Grand General’s blade, sparing the Shi family.

What do you think?”

Shigandang asked seriously.

In this world, he had no attachments and dared to do anything. Death was just a passing shadow; what was there to fear?

No need to hesitate—just act.

Shi Bao nodded slightly, motioning for Shigandang to continue.

“Adoptive father, the Sima family now holds supreme power. Even if you sacrifice your entire family for them, to the Simas, it would mean little.

Those who grovel before them are as common as fish crossing the river—not remarkable.

But does the Sima family truly respect those people?”

Shigandang challenged.

Shi Bao was speechless. He understood everything too well to reply.

Shigandang’s words were painfully accurate. The reality was that Sima Zhao lacked no sycophants.

Shi Bao thought the phrase “grovel” was perfectly apt.

“In an era when ministers dare not profess loyalty, loyal subjects are rare—this is an opportunity.

Because the Simas are disloyal, they will especially value loyal ministers in the future.”

Shigandang whispered, and Shi Bao nodded repeatedly.

“This plan is extremely risky,” Shi Bao sighed.

“Adoptive father, presently it seems all harm and no benefit, but the benefit lies in the long term.

One without foresight will have immediate worries. We cannot be like mice or sparrows, only seeing the near three-day situation.”

Shigandang counseled.

“Then try it. But one thing you said is wrong,” Shi Bao paused, then continued, “Even if something happens to Jilun, I can guarantee his life.”

His words carried authority, as he was now Commander of Yangzhou forces—indeed a military leader.

However, he made no promise about Shigandang’s safety.

“You are right, adoptive father. I was presumptuous,” Shigandang bowed deeply, no longer speaking boldly, inwardly lamenting.

Even the most meticulous plan cannot withstand the powerful’s claim: “I’ve got this.”

“Among my sons, none surpass you in strategy—at least I’ve never seen it,” Shi Bao sighed. Only the sixth son Shi Chong combined courage and wisdom and eagerness to learn, but still fell short of Shigandang’s cunning.

“Adoptive father flatters me; I dare not accept such praise,” Shigandang said, bowing humbly.

“Hahaha, you are Dare-to-Take, how could you be unworthy?

Tomorrow you and Jilun will go to the Grand General’s residence.

The General will surely question you—do you know what to say?”

Shi Chong asked.

“Say that adoptive father is bedridden and cannot manage affairs. Jilun, out of filial piety, has come seeking medicine and has no other intentions.”

Shigandang replied.

Shi Bao smiled in satisfaction and waved him off.

After leaving the study, Shigandang noticed his back was soaked with cold sweat. From the moment he entered, any wrong answer could have meant death.

What seemed like a warm conversation was in fact a naked struggle for gain.

The Tianlong people treat you as a person only when you are useful.

When they don’t consider you human, you are just a roadside dog.

Only the useful are respected; the philosophy of washing face with clean water and feet with dirty water is widely accepted.

Betrayal and abandonment are so common, there’s no need to overthink and add worry.

Being used is a blessing—it means you still have value.

Shigandang felt no resentment toward the Shi family’s mercenary attitude.

...

That night, Shi Chong led a young beauty into Shigandang’s chamber.

The woman was graceful, her face as smooth as jade, eyes bright and clear, with a high, elegant nose and a cherry-like mouth gently upturned, radiating classical charm.

She possessed a natural allure far surpassing the previous maids.

Shigandang looked at Shi Chong in surprise, unsure what game was being played.

Such beauties were hardly from ordinary families; likely from official households, yet somehow became mere playthings of the Shi family.

There must be a story here.

Sure enough, Shi Chong spoke boldly in front of Yang Qian.

“Years ago, Grand Commandant Wang Ling and his nephew, Governor Linghu Yu of Yanzhou, held troops in Huainan, plotting to install Prince Chu, Cao Biao, as emperor.

Yang Kang, a close aide to Linghu Yu, was ready to rebel when Linghu Yu suddenly died. Terrified, Yang Kang reported everything to Sima Yi.

He expected to rise rapidly but instead was beheaded by the Simas, and his family sold into slavery.

Father earned the service of Yang Kang’s youngest daughter and other captives as slaves due to his military merit. This girl, surname Yang, given name Qian, was won from my father and brothers in a contest of archery.”

Shi Chong recounted these humiliating facts to Shigandang without sparing Yang Qian any dignity.

The beautiful girl turned pale but bit her lip silently, twisting her sleeves nervously.

Shi Chong’s words made clear she was nothing but property.

Who cares what property thinks?

“Now and henceforth, she is Dare-to-Take’s maid-slave. Except for releasing her, you may do as you please.

No one else may touch her, or they insult me, Shi Jilun!

A rare spring night—won’t disturb further. Farewell.”

Shi Chong laughed heartily, patted Shigandang on the shoulder, and left the room with ease.