Six carts disappeared overnight.
I discovered this shortly after arriving at the western storehouse.
Chen Lan had already laid out the new tallies when I entered. She waited until I sat before placing one bamboo slip in front of me.
“Twenty-three carts registered across the western properties.”
“I remember.”
“Fourteen were usable yesterday.”
“I also remember that.”
“Five can move today.”
I looked up.
“Five.”
“Yes.”
“Where are the other nine?”
“Three are carrying grain into Luoyang.”
Reasonable.
“And six?”
“General Hua requisitioned them before sunrise.”
I looked at the slip again.
Six.
More than half the carts I had actually been able to use.
“He took six?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone tell him those were my getaway carts?”
Chen Lan was silent.
Chen Bo lowered his eyes.
Xu An looked away.
I heard myself.
“I see the problem with that sentence.”
I looked back at the numbers.
“Why does Hua Xiong need six of my carts?”
“For grain.”
“His grain?”
“Your father’s grain.”
That made the ownership problem considerably worse.
“And where is he taking my father’s grain in my carts?”
“East.”
Sun Jian.
Right.
Father had called Hua Xiong yesterday.
Apparently the man had responded by stealing my transportation.
“Can Mother still leave?”
Chen Lan checked another slip.
“With five carts?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Less baggage.”
Last month Mother had made six servants move the same lacquer cabinet three times before lunch because the light made the bronze handles look cheap. By the end, it was back where it started.
Five carts was optimism.
I stood.
Xu An looked surprised.
“We just arrived.”
“I know.”
“You wanted the figures.”
“I have the figure.”
I held up five fingers.
“It is offensive.”
Chen Lan finally smiled.
I pointed toward her again.
“I will return.”
“I assumed so.”
“Do not let anyone take the remaining five.”
She looked at me.
“How?”
I stopped.
That was an excellent question.
“Tell them they belong to Lady Song.”
Chen Bo’s expression changed.
I considered that.
“No. Father might hear.”
Xu An said, “They do belong to Lady Song’s preparations.”
“That is not the dangerous part.”
I left before somebody asked me to explain.
Father was with Li Ru when I returned.
So was Hua Xiong.
I knew him immediately once a guard announced his name.
Not his face.
The name.
Hua Xiong.
I knew that name.
The problem was that I remembered him dying twice.
I stopped just inside the room.
One death involved Sun Jian.
The other involved Guan Yu.
One was history.
One was Romance.
I had once known which was which.
Standing in front of Hua Xiong, I became much less confident.
He was not what my memory had prepared me for.
No enormous villain.
No ridiculous arrogance.
A broad man in his thirties or perhaps early forties, wearing travelling armor with a dark cloak over one shoulder. His face was weathered, his beard trimmed short.
He had been speaking to Niu Fu over a route tablet.
He looked up when I entered.
“Young Master.”
I bowed slightly.
“General Hua.”
Alive.
Very much alive.
Father noticed my entrance.
“What?”
I put the thought away.
“You took my carts.”
Father’s eyebrows rose.
Hua Xiong looked toward him.
Then back at me.
“Six wagons from the western stores?”
“Yes.”
“I requisitioned them.”
“I noticed.”
Father leaned back.
“You came here about carts?”
“You told me to prepare Mother’s household.”
“I did.”
“Hua Xiong took six carts.”
“He needs them.”
“So does Mother.”
“Your mother is not marching to war.”
“Exactly. So why have six of her carts enlisted?”
Li Ru lowered his eyes.
Father’s mouth moved.
Hua Xiong remained serious.
Good man.
Father tapped the route tablet.
“Sun Jian is moving north. Hua Xiong marches today.”
“I understand.”
“Then?”
I looked at him.
“I am doing the work you gave me.”
That stopped him.
Briefly.
“You told me to find out what Mother needs if she has to move west. I found out.”
“And?”
“Carts.”
Father looked toward Li Ru.
Li Ru looked suspiciously calm.
Father turned back to me.
“How many remain?”
“Five.”
“And your mother can move with five?”
“Mother once made six servants move a cabinet three times before lunch.”
“Why?”
“The handles looked cheap.”
Father frowned.
“Moving it fixed that?”
“No. She put it back.”
I looked at him.
“You see my problem.”
Hua Xiong spoke.
“If Lady Song must leave before I return, send word to me.”
I looked at him.
“I will replace the wagons.”
Simple.
No irritation.
No mockery.
He actually meant it.
That made the entire matter harder.
“When will you return?”
“When Sun Jian has been dealt with.”
I disliked that answer for reasons he could not possibly know.
Father said, “Satisfied?”
Not remotely.
“Almost.”
I looked at Li Ru.
“If another officer asks for carts?”
Li Ru answered before Father could.
“Five remain reserved.”
Father looked at him.
Li Ru continued.
“If the household is to maintain an emergency route west, stripping all transport defeats the purpose.”
Father nodded.
“Five remain.”
Good.
I had crossed half of Luoyang and interrupted a war meeting to keep five carts I already owned.
I was beginning to understand government.
Hua Xiong turned back toward the route tablet.
I should have left.
Instead I stayed.
Sun Jian.
Guan Yu.
Hua Xiong.
Two deaths.
One man.
I could warn him.
About what?
Do not fight Sun Jian?
He was being sent specifically to fight Sun Jian.
Do not fight Guan Yu?
Would he even know who Guan Yu was?
I barely knew who Guan Yu was supposed to be at this point.
A former volunteer?
A man following Liu Bei?
No famous title.
No empire-wide reputation.
Telling Hua Xiong to avoid an obscure warrior because I remembered him from stories written long after both of us were dead seemed difficult to explain.
Hua Xiong noticed me looking.
“Something else, Young Master?”
“No.”
He waited.
I almost said it anyway.
Be careful.
Useless words.
Men marching to battle knew battle was dangerous.
“Bring back the carts.”
Hua Xiong smiled.
Only slightly.
“I will.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
That was all.
He left before midday.
For the next two days, nothing happened.
This was worse than it sounded.
Once a man you remembered dying had ridden toward a battle whose ending you could not remember correctly, silence became irritating.
I spent part of the first day with Chen Lan.
Part of the second with Qiao’er.
Most of both pretending I was not waiting for reports.
Qiao’er noticed.
She said nothing.
She moved the tea tray slightly to one side so I could see the front gate.
I disliked that.
I disliked being understood.
On the third morning, Father sent for me before I finished breakfast.
I arrived expecting bad news.
Instead, Father was smiling.
That was almost as alarming.
Niu Fu was already there.
Uncle Min too.
Li Ru held a fresh report.
Father slapped one hand against the table.
“Hua Xiong broke Sun Jian.”
I stopped.
“What?”
Father laughed.
“Sun Jian advanced too far. His provisions failed to keep pace.”
Li Ru gave the cleaner version.
“His supply was disrupted. Hua Xiong struck before Sun Jian could restore order.”
Niu Fu added, “Sun Jian withdrew.”
Alive.
Hua Xiong had fought Sun Jian.
Hua Xiong was alive.
My memory shifted.
That was bad.
Not the victory.
The fact that I remembered it.
In the version where Hua Xiong defeated Sun Jian...
Guan Yu came later.
I looked at Li Ru.
“Did anyone named Guan Yu fight?”
The room went quiet.
Too quiet.
Father frowned.
“Who?”
I had made a mistake.
“No one.”
“You just gave me a name.”
“A man I heard about.”
“Where?”
This was becoming worse.
“Gongsun Zan’s force.”
Li Ru’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Liu Bei’s companion?”
Damn him.
“Yes.”
Father looked unimpressed.
“Why would I care about Liu Bei’s companion?”
“You probably shouldn’t.”
“Then why do you?”
“I don’t.”
Uncle Min looked between us.
Niu Fu looked down.
Father pointed at me.
“You asked.”
“I regret it.”
That, at least, he understood.
Father returned to the report.
“Hua Xiong took weapons and banners.”
Li Ru added, “Sun Jian’s force is not destroyed. He will regroup.”
Father waved that aside.
“He still ran.”
“For now.”
“For now is enough today.”
He was happy.
He had spent weeks receiving reports of men joining the coalition.
Now one of his generals had struck them hard enough to send Sun Jian backward.
I understood the mood.
Even I felt some of it.
Hua Xiong had won.
For one morning, the coalition was not an unstoppable wall of famous names.
They could lose.
Father noticed me looking at the report.
“Your carts helped.”
“Good. Discharge them.”
Father stared at me.
“What?”
“They enlisted three days ago. They have now fought Sun Jian. I think they have done enough.”
Two more reports arrived that day.
Both good.
Hua Xiong had held his position.
Coalition troops probing forward had been driven back.
One allied officer had been killed.
Another retreated.
By evening, men in Father’s residence were speaking differently.
Not loudly.
Not foolishly.
But the tension had loosened.
Servants heard soldiers saying the eastern lords were not as dangerous as their proclamations.
One officer joked that Yuan Shao had gathered half the empire and was now feeding it to Hua Xiong one man at a time.
I did not join in.
The version in my head had not ended yet.
The next morning, Hua Xiong was still alive.
By noon, another messenger reported that he had challenged the enemy again.
Father laughed when he heard.
“He is enjoying himself.”
Lü Bu stood beside the wall.
“He usually does.”
That was the first thing Lü Bu had said all morning.
Father looked toward him.
“You want to go?”
“Yes.”
The answer came immediately.
Father smiled.
“Not yet.”
Lü Bu did not argue.
I wished everyone in this household could learn from him.
The messenger continued.
Hua Xiong had defeated another officer.
Then another.
The allied camp had sent men against him separately.
None had stopped him.
Father’s mood improved with each name.
Mine did not.
I knew where this was going now.
Or thought I did.
That distinction had become important.
A servant brought more tea.
I did not drink it.
Another report arrived before sunset.
The messenger had ridden hard.
His horse had nearly collapsed at the outer gate.
He entered still breathing heavily and dropped to one knee.
Father was speaking with Li Ru.
I was present because I had made the mistake of remaining nearby after being summoned earlier.
The messenger bowed his head.
“My lord.”
Father looked over.
“Hua Xiong?”
“Yes.”
Father smiled.
“Another victory?”
The messenger did not answer immediately.
The smile disappeared.
Li Ru straightened.
“Speak.”
“Hua Xiong challenged the allied camp again.”
Father waited.
“Several men answered him.”
“And?”
“They were defeated.”
Father’s face eased slightly.
The messenger continued.
“Then another man came forward.”
Something inside me tightened.
Father asked, “Who?”
The messenger swallowed.
“A subordinate of Liu Bei.”
My hand stopped.
“What name?” Father asked.
“Guan Yu.”
Nobody else reacted.
Why would they?
To them, it was only a name.
Father leaned forward.
“And Hua Xiong?”
The messenger lowered his head.
“General Hua was killed.”