The government had discovered a loophole.
Council happened once each morning.
Father could apparently summon me whenever he pleased.
The runner led me across the residence while I considered whether this violated our agreement.
“Council was this morning.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“And Father wants me again.”
“Yes.”
“So this is a second council.”
The runner hesitated.
“No, Young Master.”
I looked at him.
“What is it?”
“His Excellency summoned you.”
“That sounds like council with fewer witnesses.”
The runner wisely declined to participate.
I entered Father’s working room.
No Lü Bu.
My mood improved immediately.
Father sat behind a long table covered in bamboo slips. Li Ru was beside him, because the man had apparently abandoned the concept of going home.
A courier knelt before them, dust still clinging to his robe.
Father looked up.
“They caught Cao Mengde.”
I stopped.
Caught.
Zhongmou.
That was right.
I thought.
Cao Cao had fled Luoyang under another name. He was detained at Zhongmou.
Then someone released him.
Chen Gong?
Maybe.
The version in my head involved Chen Gong recognizing Cao Cao, freeing him, abandoning office and following him.
Then came the incident with Cao Cao’s father’s acquaintance.
A misunderstanding.
Several dead people.
Something about preferring to betray the world before allowing the world to betray him.
Very memorable.
Also very possibly a novel.
I sat down.
Father looked pleased.
That worried me.
“When?”
The courier answered.
“Earlier today, Young Master.”
“How much earlier?”
He gave the time.
Several hours.
“And he was still in custody when you left?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Father.
“Then several hours ago, we owned one Cao Cao.”
Father frowned.
“Owned?”
“Temporarily.”
Li Ru’s mouth moved.
Father ignored him.
“He is being held at Zhongmou.”
“Several hours ago.”
Father’s eyes narrowed.
“You expect him to escape?”
“No.”
That was technically true.
I expected him to be released.
Probably.
Maybe.
I was rapidly discovering that betting my life on whether I remembered Romance of the Three Kingdoms or an encyclopedia article from six years ago was not a sound retirement strategy.
Father turned back to the courier.
“How was he caught?”
“He traveled under another name. A local officer became suspicious and detained him.”
“Was he recognized immediately?”
“No, my lord.”
That sounded familiar too.
Uncomfortably familiar.
Father leaned back.
“Send men to bring him here.”
I went very still.
Father called toward the doorway.
“Have an officer ready with twenty riders. They leave at first light.”
A guard bowed.
“Yes, my lord.”
Nobody asked me anything.
This was ideal.
I intended to preserve the arrangement.
Cao Cao was supposed to escape Zhongmou.
If he did, history remained recognizable.
If he did not, one of the most important men in the next thirty years might be delivered directly into Father’s hands.
That would be bad.
How bad?
No idea.
Perhaps someone else unified northern China.
Perhaps Yuan Shao won.
Perhaps Father lived longer.
Perhaps every piece of future knowledge in my head became expensive garbage.
Still, helping Cao Cao escape personally seemed unwise.
I had established several rules since arriving in this century.
Do not become important.
Do not impress Father.
Do not ride unless threatened.
And under no circumstances secretly rescue Cao Cao from prison.
That last rule was new.
I felt confident about it.
Father asked the courier several more questions.
Road.
Companions.
Whether Cao Cao had resisted.
Whether anyone had been injured.
Li Ru asked which county officials had received our notice and when.
I listened quietly.
This was going surprisingly well.
Nobody asked me to predict anything.
Nobody gave me a horse.
Nobody mentioned grain.
I began considering the possibility that government could occasionally happen without harming me.
Footsteps approached quickly outside.
A guard appeared.
“My lord.”
Father looked over.
“What?”
“Another courier from Zhongmou.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
The second man entered looking as though his horse had objected to the entire journey.
Dust covered him almost to the waist.
He knelt.
Father did not wait.
“Speak.”
“My lord. Zhongmou sent another report concerning Cao Mengde.”
The first courier turned.
So did Li Ru.
Father frowned.
“What happened?”
The man lowered his head.
“Cao Mengde has been released.”
Relief went through me so quickly that my mouth moved before my brain.
“Thank Heaven.”
Silence.
Oh.
No.
Father turned his head.
Slowly.
“You are pleased?”
“I thought you were going to make me fetch him.”
Father stared.
“Why would I send you?”
“You made me inspect a storehouse because I asked for an estate. I have stopped assuming there are limits.”
Li Ru lowered his eyes.
Father’s expression cracked.
“You can barely ride.”
“Exactly. Imagine my concern.”
Father laughed.
I breathed again.
Then Li Ru said, perfectly calmly, “He has evidence.”
I looked at him.
For perhaps the first time since meeting Li Ru, I felt affection.
Father pointed at both of us.
“Enough.”
The laughter disappeared when he faced the courier again.
“Released by whom?”
The man hesitated.
“A local official recognized Cao Mengde after his arrest.”
“And opened the cell?”
“Not personally, my lord.”
Father’s voice cooled.
“Then explain.”
“The official argued that Cao Mengde should not be held. He persuaded the county authorities to release him.”
Father did not move.
“Why?”
The courier swallowed.
“He said Cao Mengde was known for ability and reputation. That with the realm unsettled, such a man should not be imprisoned.”
No one laughed.
Cao Cao had no army.
No banner.
No proclamation.
He had not reached home.
He had not called anyone to arms.
Father had issued an order.
Some county official had looked at that order, looked at Cao Cao, and decided which one mattered more.
Li Ru asked, “Was money exchanged?”
“Not according to the report.”
“Did Cao Cao threaten anyone?”
“No.”
“Did his companions use force?”
“No.”
Li Ru became quiet.
Father’s hand rested against his knee.
“So someone simply decided to let him go.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The room felt colder.
Li Ru spoke.
“He has not raised troops.”
Father looked at him.
“He has not publicly opposed the court. He has issued no declaration against you.”
Li Ru glanced toward the courier.
“And already someone is willing to risk office for him.”
Father’s face hardened.
“Name.”
“My lord?”
“The official.”
“The report does not give his personal name.”
Father’s irritation sharpened.
“His office?”
The courier explained.
A county official.
Not the magistrate.
I frowned.
Chen Gong.
Wasn’t Chen Gong the magistrate?
Or had he only been a magistrate in the novel?
Maybe he had never been at Zhongmou at all.
Maybe some nameless official had been replaced by Chen Gong because stories preferred names.
I looked at the courier.
“Was his surname Chen?”
Li Ru’s eyes moved toward me.
The courier shook his head.
“I do not know, Young Master.”
Of course.
Why should reality cooperate now?
Father said, “Find out.”
The courier bowed deeply.
“Yes, my lord.”
I said nothing else.
Either history had changed.
Or I had remembered fiction.
The second possibility bothered me more.
You could plan around history changing.
Planning around your own memory being full of lies was harder.
Father turned to Li Ru.
“The officials who released him?”
“Learn who argued for it first,” Li Ru said.
“And then?”
“Who agreed.”
Father nodded.
“Remove them?”
“Not yet.”
Father’s eyes narrowed.
Li Ru folded his hands.
“If every official who sympathizes with Cao Cao is punished immediately, the others will simply become quieter.”
Father considered that.
Li Ru continued.
“Find who helped him. Who objected. Who provided horses, food or shelter afterward.”
There it was.
Not rage.
Accounting.
That was why Li Ru frightened me more than angry men.
An angry man wanted someone punished.
Li Ru wanted the entire list.
Father nodded.
“Quietly.”
The courier bowed again.
He was dismissed.
I remained seated.
I had learned.
Father noticed.
“You are improving.”
“I am afraid to stand.”
That almost brought the smile back.
Almost.
Then Father asked the question I had been hoping he had forgotten.
“Where does Cao Mengde go now?”
I looked at him.
“This morning he was a fugitive.”
Father waited.
“This afternoon he was a prisoner.”
Li Ru watched me.
“Now he is neither.”
I leaned back.
“Ask me after supper.”
Father frowned.
“You have no guess?”
“I would like him to remain the same thing for half a day before I form one.”
Li Ru looked down at the route tablets.
“Assume he continues east.”
Unpleasant man.
Father pulled one closer.
“His clan?”
“Qiao County remains the obvious destination.”
“And if he knows we expect that?”
Li Ru traced another route.
“He may avoid going directly home.”
Father looked over the tablet.
“Where?”
Li Ru’s finger stopped.
“Chenliu.”
My stomach tightened.
Chenliu.
That one I knew.
Not from a dramatic scene.
Not from a famous quote.
From the broad sequence.
Cao Cao returned east.
Sold property.
Gathered money.
Raised men.
Chenliu.
Several thousand soldiers.
Enough.
The exact number no longer mattered.
Li Ru continued.
“We should watch his clan and their associates rather than chase every road. If they begin moving money, buying horses, weapons or grain, we will know.”
Father nodded.
“If he raises men?”
“Then his flight ceases to be merely flight.”
No one looked at me.
I was grateful.
The room had stopped being funny.
Cao Cao getting released had reassured me for perhaps ten breaths.
History still resembled history.
Then Li Ru said Chenliu.
And I remembered what came after Zhongmou.
That was the problem.
Every time the future proved I remembered something correctly, it rewarded me by handing me the next disaster.
Yuan Shao had gone east.
Cao Cao was going east.
Families were already leaving Luoyang.
Miss Yue had gone west.
Some official in Zhongmou had just risked his career because Cao Cao’s name meant enough to him.
The coalition I remembered had always been one thing.
A historical event.
Men gathered.
Banners raised.
War began.
It had sounded neat from two thousand years away.
Sitting in Father’s room, it looked less neat.
One man opened a door.
Another sold land.
Someone bought horses.
Someone moved his family.
Someone heard a rumor and believed it.
By the time armies appeared, the decision had already been made a thousand times.
Father began issuing orders.
Quiet observation.
No proclamation.
No dramatic pursuit.
Watch Cao Cao’s family.
Watch Chenliu.
Watch the eastern roads.
I listened until the meeting finally ended.
Then Father said, “Tomorrow morning.”
I had already stood.
I stopped.
“What happens tomorrow morning?”
“Council.”
“I attended council today.”
“Yes.”
“And this.”
“This was not council.”
There was that distinction again.
I looked at Li Ru.
He appeared entirely comfortable with it.
“Does government have an ending?”
Li Ru answered.
“Yes.”
Hope rose.
“When?”
“When there is nothing left to govern.”
I stared at him.
Father laughed.
I left before either man could assign me the destruction of civilization.
Qiao’er was in my courtyard when I returned.
She sat beneath the gallery with two folded robes beside her.
One looked suspiciously expensive.
I ignored it.
“You’re late.”
“I attended government twice.”
She looked up.
“Twice?”
“The second one was not officially government.”
“What was it?”
“Father summoned me to discuss Cao Mengde.”
“That sounds like government.”
“Thank you.”
At last someone understood.
Qiao’er folded one sleeve neatly over the other.
“What happened?”
“They caught him at Zhongmou.”
Her hands paused.
“Then your father will bring him back?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“They released him.”
“Who?”
“Someone who thought Cao Mengde was more useful outside a cell.”
Qiao’er’s expression changed.
That was enough.
She understood why it mattered.
I sat beneath the gallery.
For a moment neither of us spoke.
Then Qiao’er pushed the expensive robe toward me.
I looked at it.
“No.”
“You haven’t heard why.”
“I know clothing used for punishment when I see it.”
“Lady Song chose it.”
“Then my case strengthens.”
Qiao’er smoothed the fabric.
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
My stomach sank.
Right.
Lady Wei.
Cao Cao had occupied enough of my day that I had briefly forgotten women could also threaten me.
“Lady Du’s residence?”
“Yes.”
“Madam Wei will attend?”
Qiao’er nodded.
I looked at the robe again.
“The same Madam Wei who watched me ask her daughter whether she had an elder sister.”
“She remembers.”
“How do you know?”
“She told Lady Song.”
I closed my eyes.
“She discussed it?”
Qiao’er’s voice remained innocent.
“She found it memorable.”
Of course she did.
I opened my eyes.
“How memorable?”
Qiao’er considered.
“She remembered the season.”
I stared.
“The season?”
“And what you were wearing.”
That woman had records.
This was no longer courtship.
This was an investigation.
I looked out toward the courtyard.
Cao Cao had used another name.
Taken lesser roads.
Reached Zhongmou.
Been arrested.
Then somehow escaped the entire situation.
Perhaps I had judged him too harshly.
“Is Zhongmou far?”
Qiao’er did not even look up.
“Too far for tomorrow afternoon.”
I looked at her.
She continued folding my robe.
Cruel woman.
For the first time all evening, I envied Cao Cao.