Chapter 11: The Overbearing Zhang Lu

Hanzhong.

Yán Pǔ, the Registrar, spoke to Zhang Su with a slight tone of apology, “Please forgive me, Lord Zhang. Recently, Sima Zhang Lu has been unwell and unable to personally receive you, so I have been sent to attend to you.”

“That is no matter. Please convey to Sima Zhang Lu my wishes for a speedy recovery. Su wishes him good health,” Zhang Su replied calmly.

Zhang Su, as the envoy from Yizhou, had carried a joint memorial from the ministers of Yizhou endorsing Liu Zhang as the new Governor of Yizhou. He had journeyed to Chang’an and was now passing through Hanzhong on his return. Yet, the actual ruler of Hanzhong, the warlord Sima Zhang Lu, had not come to welcome him in person, instead dispatching only a registrar. Zhang Su’s expression remained unchanged; he seemed unfazed, offering instead his regards to Zhang Lu.

But beneath Zhang Su’s composed demeanor simmered a trace of anger. Not only was he an envoy of Yizhou, but no one dared to come to Yizhou to proclaim imperial edicts for fear of being killed by the bandit Zhang Lu. Carrying the imperial staff, Zhang Su was also an envoy of the court. For Zhang Lu, a mere bandit, to be so presumptuous as to send only a registrar for his reception was utterly contemptible.

Zhang Su suspected the cause: it was not because the new governor was Liu Mao, who resembled his father, but because it was the widely known timid and incompetent Liu Zhang that Zhang Lu dared to act so arrogantly.

This bandit had truly forgotten his origins. In the second year of the Chuping era, the former governor Liu Yan had appointed Zhang Lu as the supervising military officer of Hanzhong. Alongside another Sima, Zhang Xiu, they jointly attacked the Hanzhong Administrator Su Gu. After Zhang Xiu killed Su Gu, Zhang Lu killed Zhang Xiu, seizing his forces and cutting off the Xie Valley road. Under Liu Yan’s orders, he had even killed imperial envoys.

Liu Yan’s actions, though self-serving, had a purpose: without imperial envoys, he could arrogantly claim autonomy over Yizhou without regard for imperial orders. But had Zhang Lu forgotten that it was only with Liu Yan’s secret backing that he could establish himself in Hanzhong?

Without the former governor’s support, Zhang Lu was nothing but a bandit.

Zhang Su resolved to send a warning to Zhang Lu to curb his arrogance. With a composed expression, he said to Yan Pu, “I hear that Sima Zhang’s mother’s health has been improving greatly of late, her appearance growing ever younger. Those who cultivate the Dao truly undergo profound transformations.”

Upon hearing this, Yan Pu immediately grasped the deeper meaning behind Zhang Su’s words. This envoy from a prominent Yizhou family was subtly reminding Zhang Lu not to forget his mother, who was held as a hostage in Chengdu, and not to act recklessly just because Liu Zhang had now assumed governorship.

“That is truly joyous news. I shall convey your congratulations to Sima Zhang,” Yan Pu replied, not revealing the subtext. Sometimes it was enough if some things were understood implicitly by those involved.

—

“How did Zhang Su speak?” asked Zhang Lu, the leader of the Celestial Master Dao, who had just completed his meditation and looked robust and energetic, showing no signs of illness.

Yan Pu chose his words carefully. “Zhang Su seemed outwardly indifferent that you did not personally come to receive him, but his tone carried some displeasure.”

“He also mentioned your esteemed mother in Chengdu, implying a veiled warning.”

Yan Pu then advised, “Perhaps our treatment of Zhang Su was too harsh. After all, your honored mother remains in Chengdu, and your hands are not yet completely free.”

Zhang Lu scoffed dismissively, “If Zhang Su were Liu Yan’s envoy, I would have personally received him, accompanied him all the way, and treated him well.”

“But he is Liu Zhang’s envoy—a weak and incompetent child, timid and indecisive. I know him well.”

“If it weren’t for my mother still in Chengdu, I would have killed Zhang Su already. I have no qualms about killing imperial envoys. One more or one less makes no difference.”

Zhang Lu’s next words were filled with unrestrained boldness: “A true man born under heaven cannot remain crushed beneath others. Especially not as a subordinate to a coward like Liu Zhang.”

“Liu Yan is dead. I hold Hanzhong. If I wish to be king, I will be king; if marquis, then marquis. Who can stop me?”

Hearing Zhang Lu’s grand ambitions, Yan Pu added, “What you say is true, Master, but to confront Bashu with only Hanzhong may not be easy. The leaders of the Ba tribes in Ba Commandery—Du Huo, Pu Hu, Yuan Yue, and others—are devout followers of our Celestial Master Dao and could be of great assistance. Only with such support can your plans be secure.”

Zhang Lu nodded. Though his words were proud and confident, he was no fool. He understood the great power of Bashu and the need to proceed with caution and careful planning.

“Indeed. Registrar, you shall strategize for me.”

—

Only when Dong He’s carriage turned the corner did Liu Zhang withdraw his gaze. He had not allowed Dong He to stay overnight in the residence—after all, he could not share a bed with a man every day, and besides, Gan Ning and Dong He were very different types.

Gan Ning was a wanderer; Dong He was a scholar.

Thus, the manner of reception naturally differed.

After seeing Dong He off, Liu Zhang glanced at the sky. It was late and time to retire.

Though as the Governor of Yizhou, he could have summoned a grand evening gathering with several court singers and dancers to enjoy a night of revelry, he refrained. Liu Yan had only recently passed away, and such behavior would sully his reputation. The Han dynasty governed through filial piety, and few would look kindly on one who showed disrespect.

Listening to the faint sounds of song and dance drifting in from afar, Liu Zhang furrowed his brows, sharp as swords, and turned his gaze toward the courtyard where his elder brother Liu Mao resided.

Truly a filial son; Liu Yan had barely been dead for a short time, yet Liu Mao dared to indulge in song and dance, filling the air with music.

Shaking his head, Liu Zhang proceeded to his own courtyard, not intending to confront his half-brother just yet. He planned to wait until the imperial edict arrived and the situation stabilized before dealing with Liu Mao.

At the courtyard gate, he saw two women—a middle-aged one and a younger—waiting.

“My lord, I have selected a suitable candidate,” reported Aunt Wang, an elder servant of the residence. “Per your instructions, this girl Cai Wei, though not exceptionally beautiful, is diligent and capable. I believe she will meet your requirements.”

Liu Zhang nodded. He trusted Aunt Wang, an elder of the household who had never married nor borne children, and had long been responsible for training the court singers and dancers. Since Liu Yan’s recent death and the mourning period forbidding music and dance, Aunt Wang had been idle.

A few days prior, Liu Zhang had felt uneasy about entrusting such matters to Pang Que, a young novice, so he asked Aunt Wang to find a maidservant. Appearance was secondary; cleanliness and diligence were paramount.

It must be said that Liu Zhang’s predecessor had been a devoted husband. Since his wife died in childbirth, he had never remarried, preferring to be served by young male attendants rather than maidservants.

Truly a model man of the Eastern Han.

Cai Wei stepped forward and bowed, her voice as clear as flowing spring water: “Cai Wei pays respects to Lord Liu.”

Liu Zhang appraised the maidservant—dressed in simple blue attire, with a dignified appearance, about seven out of ten in looks, and bearing the air of an honest person. Aunt Wang’s judgment was sound.

He nodded and said to Aunt Wang, “She will do. Thank you, Aunt Wang.”

“It is my duty, not a favor,” Aunt Wang hastily declined. Though a servant, her seniority prevented her from accepting such gratitude.

Just as Liu Zhang was about to enter the courtyard and rest, Aunt Wang hesitated, then spoke with some reluctance, “My lord, Third Young Master has repeatedly come to request singers from me. I have tried to refuse, but tonight I sent several performers to him.”

“I am aware. Passing by my brother’s courtyard, I heard the commotion. That brother of mine is truly shameless,” Liu Zhang said, criticizing Liu Mao.

Encouraged, Aunt Wang continued, “Forgive me for speaking out of turn. The late Governor’s time is short, and if Third Young Master behaves so, it may harm the late Governor’s good name. Moreover, if word spreads, it will ruin Third Young Master’s reputation and embarrass you.”

Liu Zhang nodded in agreement. “Aunt Wang, I understand. Next time my brother makes such a request, refuse him outright. If there is any issue, have him come directly to me.”

To Liu Zhang, this was a trivial matter, but considering the potential damage to the family’s reputation, it was wise to address Liu Mao’s conduct early.

“Yes, yes,” Aunt Wang responded repeatedly, relief washing over her. Though not the designated heir, Liu Mao was still a son of the household, and she could not afford to offend him. If the music and dance during mourning became known, punishment would likely fall not on Liu Mao but on the singers, accused of corrupting the young master.

Having no children of her own, Aunt Wang had always treated these singers as her daughters and sought to protect them. With Liu Zhang’s instruction, refusing Liu Mao’s demands would be easier, and she would no longer fear being accused of corrupting him.

“Cai Wei, serve Lord Liu well,” Aunt Wang advised, then bid farewell and left.

— End of excerpt —