Chapter 12: The Furious Liu Mao

Late at night, the singing and dancing in Third Young Master Liu Mao’s chamber finally came to an end.

Waving his hand, Liu Mao dismissed the group of courtesans before him. Though he had drunk quite a bit, his mind grew clearer and his thoughts more agile.

He knew well that summoning courtesans to watch their dances so soon after his father Liu Yan’s recent passing was highly improper. At best, outsiders would accuse him of frivolity; at worst, they might brand him unfilial.

But Liu Mao no longer cared about any of that—whether frivolous or unfilial, he dismissed such accusations entirely.

“Governor of Yizhou.” This was the only thing on Liu Mao’s mind. The post of Governor of Yizhou rightfully belonged to him, yet it had been usurped by his inept younger brother.

His mood was like a furnace on the verge of bursting—just a bit more fuel or a gust of wind, and it would explode.

“Chief Clerk Wang Shang, and Commandant Zhao Wei.” Over the past days, Liu Mao had repeated these two names countless times, each repetition deepening his hatred toward them.

He would never forget the day his father Liu Yan died—there was sorrow, yes, but even more so, excitement.

His two elder brothers, Left Central General Liu Fan and Imperial Attendant Liu Dan, had been killed by Li Jue and Guo Si in March of this very year due to their father’s failed alliance with Ma Teng in the attack on Chang’an.

Liu Mao felt no sadness over their deaths; in fact, he was somewhat grateful to Li Jue and Guo Si. Had his brothers lived, his claim to the governorship of Yizhou would have been third in line, but with their demise, he became the eldest son.

Coupled with his father’s death from grief, the position of Governor of one of the thirteen provinces of the Han—the mighty Yizhou—was now laid before Liu Mao.

He was certain that this position belonged to him one hundred percent. The Eastern troops, who had long benefited from his father’s favor, would never accept anyone else. Thus, he could only regard the death of his father and brothers as a “fortunate” event.

However, what he never expected was that when the Eastern troops sought to enthrone Liu Yan’s successor, the treacherous Shu officials Wang Shang and Zhao Wei, coveting his weak younger brother for easy control, would not support him—the rightful and wise ruler—but instead vigorously endorse his brother.

Clenching his wine cup tightly, Liu Mao threw back another drink and disdainfully muttered, “Governor of Yizhou, Ji Yu, do you deserve it?”

“You don’t deserve it.”

With that, he slammed the cup onto the floor with a resounding crash, startling someone who had just entered the room.

“Ah!” Liu Mao’s wife, Wu Xian, had just stepped in and was taken aback by his outburst, covering her mouth in shock.

Hearing his muttered words, the dutiful Wu Xian quietly picked up the wine cup and spoke with a voice as clear and melodious as a spring, “Husband, you’ve had too much to drink. Please rest early.”

She feared that Liu Mao’s drunken ranting might reach Liu Zhang’s ears. After all, Liu Zhang was now Governor of Yizhou, wielding great power over life and death. While he might not harm his elder brother Liu Mao physically, some form of punishment was not out of the question.

Only then did Liu Mao emerge from his reverie, looking at his beautiful, fair-skinned wife kneeling and adjusting his loosened clothes, revealing a stunning and graceful figure.

Yet, he was not softened, his tone biting like the coldest winter: “Rest early? You’re just afraid I’ll say the wrong things.”

Wu Xian tidied his disheveled attire and humbly advised, “Husband, there are many ears in the mansion. Some words are better left unsaid.”

“Hah, in my own home, I must be cautious with my speech? The words I just said—I wouldn’t only say them here, but even in Ji Yu’s presence.”

“Oh yes, how much gold did that old fool Dong Fu take from your family to flatter you, calling you a woman of great fortune?” Wu Xian’s words poured fuel on the fire, and Liu Mao’s anger exploded completely. He glared darkly at Wu Xian and asked sinisterly.

Wu Xian froze in surprise. She never expected such words from her usually steady and mature husband, who now appeared almost unrecognizable—his face twisted, veins bulging, his entire being bordering on madness.

At that moment, Liu Mao seemed to realize something. He appeared to have found the reason why he had failed to become Governor of Yizhou—perhaps it was because of his wife, whom Dong Fu had hailed as having a “great fortune,” but Liu Mao now suspected otherwise.

He looked at the stunned Wu Xian with a sardonic smile: “If you truly have such a great fortune, then you should have married Ji Yu, not me.”

“Clearly, you have no such fortune. You’re likely cursed with the fate of a wretched woman.”

It must be because of this that, despite being the eldest brother, he lost out to his younger brother Liu Zhang, who now sat on the post that rightfully belonged to him.

Tears welled up in Wu Xian’s eyes, shimmering with sorrow. She clung to Liu Mao’s garment, her voice mournful: “Husband, I know nothing of fortune or misfortune—those are the words of others. All I know is to fulfill my duties as a wife. Please, I beg you, do not speak of marrying Ji Yu again.”

“Cry, cry, cry—just crying has drained all your blessings.”

Watching his wife weep, her tears falling like blossoms in the rain, Liu Mao felt no pity—only growing disgust. He intensified his cruelty: “Tonight, why don’t you go serve Ji Yu? If you truly have such great fortune, I cannot bear to have you by my side.”

Wu Xian’s sobs grew louder, which only made Liu Mao more agitated. He rose to leave, but Wu Xian clutched his sleeve.

Instinctively, Liu Mao pushed her away, but with a sharp slap, his palm left five red marks on Wu Xian’s fair face.

“Get lost, wretched woman. You make me sick.”

Uttering these cruel words, Liu Mao pushed open the door and left.

Wu Xian collapsed to the floor, her eyes vacant, tears silently streaming, as if her soul had been torn away.

-----------------

“Xingba, please.”

“Minggong, please.”

After a restful night’s sleep, Liu Zhang awoke refreshed and arrived early at the Governor’s mansion. After handing over the duties of the Deputy Prefect to Gan Ning, the two began drinking early in the morning.

Sipping the morning wine, Liu Zhang felt thoroughly comfortable. He had been incredibly fortunate these days—first, securing the allegiance of the great general Gan Ning, then arranging for the perfectly suited Dong He to fill the position of Chengdu Prefect. His spirits soared.

After drinking, Gan Ning broached the subject: “Commander, I have an uncomfortable request.”

“Speak plainly, Xingba,” Liu Zhang waved his hand dismissively, teasing, “Why the hesitation? Has the long service as a civil official made you too accustomed to social graces?”

Gan Ning smiled and said straightforwardly, “Minggong, I have over twelve hundred men under my command in Bajun. Since becoming Deputy Prefect here in Shu, they have repeatedly asked me to return. Only out of respect for my elderly mother have I declined.”

“Now, as a Captain, I should have some men under me, and so I wish to bring them here and have them serve as my followers.”

Though Gan Ning called them followers, he never held a military post. These men were merely his retainers as a local chieftain. The night before, after discussing with Gan Jiu, they agreed that since he could not return to Bajun, he would bring his brothers here to Shu. Now, as a Captain, he needed a trusted group of men.

“Minggong, these men are skilled warriors, loyal and trustworthy—rare among soldiers,” Gan Ning added, fanning the flames. His earlier frustrations while serving as Deputy Prefect often made him consider abandoning his post and returning to Bajun to rally his brothers. But now, he believed that under this wise lord’s banner, their future was boundless.

Liu Zhang smiled broadly at the mention of Gan Ning’s troops and waved his hand, “No problem at all. Xingba, bring them over.”

“Understood,” Gan Ning replied, then proposed, “Minggong, if I send my men to Bajun to recruit, few might come. So I plan to travel to Bajun myself. With my presence, I’m confident I can rally a thousand strong warriors to serve you.”

“When do you plan to depart?” Liu Zhang asked without pretense.

“The sooner the better. I intend to leave tomorrow.”

“Good. Xingba, one more drink. Tomorrow, I will see you off.”