Chapter 1206: Trust!

When Ma Teng finally arrived, he saw only Cao Ang’s lonely figure standing under the early spring sunlight. Despite the warmth of the sun, there was an unexpected chill in the air.

“Greetings, Uncle Ma,” Cao Ang said calmly, bowing respectfully to Ma Teng.

“…,” Ma Teng remained silent for a long time, unsure of what to say when faced with the current Cao Ang.

“Did you see Yunlu?” Ma Teng sighed after a moment.

“Yes, I did. But I was late; Zhao Zilong is more suited for her,” Cao Ang said, a trace of loss and a hint of loneliness flickering across his face. But soon, he broke into a hearty laugh, saying, “It’s for the best. Better to be disappointed now than to regret it for a lifetime.”

With that, Cao Ang turned his horse to head back to Chang’an. “Uncle Ma, there’s no need to chase after her. Zhao Zilong is indeed a good match.”

Ma Teng remained silent. After seeing Cao Ang ride off, he seemed to heed his words and decided not to pursue Ma Yunlu. With that, the group accompanying Ma Teng and Cao Ang returned to Chang’an.

Sima Yi, observing from a distance as Cao Ang returned surrounded by Ma Teng’s entourage, couldn’t help but marvel at how he had previously underestimated the young man. He hadn’t expected Cao Ang to possess such inner strength and composure.

In the past, Cao Ang had always appeared as a mere junior in Ma Teng’s eyes. Although Ma Teng admired him, he had never taken him seriously. But this time, after witnessing how Cao Ang handled the sudden events—letting Ma Yunlu go, quickly regaining his composure, and revealing his intellect during their conversations—Ma Teng began to see him in a new light.

For Cao Ang, Ma Yunlu’s departure wasn’t a significant emotional loss. His initial goal wasn’t necessarily to win Ma Yunlu’s affection, but rather to establish a solid foundation for an alliance between their families. Now, a better opportunity had arisen.

As they traveled back to Chang’an along the main road, Ma Teng’s perception of Cao Ang completely changed.

Initially, Ma Teng had opened the door for Cao Ang to pursue his daughter because of his appreciation for the young man. But when his daughter chose to leave both him and Cao Ang behind, and when Cao Ang, who had deeply invested himself emotionally, pursued her alone, Ma Teng felt a pang of guilt.

However, Cao Ang’s ability to decisively let go, even while dealing with heartbreak, and his ability to conceal his inner turmoil while displaying intelligence and composure during the journey, ultimately won Ma Teng over.

Ma Teng had already been leaning toward supporting the Cao family. After this incident, his feelings of guilt and respect for Cao Ang solidified his decision. With someone like Cao Ang in the Cao family, their prosperity would not be limited to a single generation but would extend to future descendants.

Ma Teng naturally went along with the situation, though he didn’t give Cao Ang a direct answer. But Cao Ang, seemingly unmoved on the surface, knew he had already succeeded.

[This is fine. The position of the Cao family’s main wife can be reconsidered for another alliance,] Cao Ang thought quietly. His goal had never truly been Ma Yunlu; she was simply a stepping stone to his ultimate success.

[It seems I should consider forming ties with Cao Ang,] Sima Yi mused, watching Cao Ang’s departing figure.

Upon returning to the Cao residence, Cao Ang was unsurprisingly scolded by Cao Cao and ordered to stay at home for a month to reflect and write. Cao Ang casually agreed.

As Cao Ang stepped out of the main hall, Cao Cao suddenly asked, “Have you been preparing for this all along?”

Cao Ang paused mid-step, slowly retracting his foot, then turned to face his father. “Father, what does it mean to be prepared? And what does it mean to be unprepared?”

Cao Cao looked at his eldest son, the one he had always thought of as immature. In this moment, he couldn’t help but take a closer look. Perhaps he had never truly paid attention to this son before, always demanding more from him.

“You’ve grown up,” Cao Cao said after a long silence. He had been contemplating speaking with Lady Ding about finding a concubine to comfort Cao Ang after his heartbreak, but now, seeing the calmness in Cao Ang’s eyes, he realized it might not be necessary.

Cao Ang sat down in the main hall, staring at his father. He felt that Cao Cao must have many things to say to him.

“You’ve certainly surprised me with your excellence,” Cao Cao finally said after another long pause. “When did this all start?”

“Probably when I started imitating you,” Cao Ang replied with a smile. His handsome face and tall stature contrasted with Cao Cao’s shorter build, but the statement didn’t make Cao Cao feel uncomfortable. In fact, he felt a sense of pride.

“I’ve always had a keen eye, but even I miss things sometimes,” Cao Cao laughed. “It’s only when I see my sons excelling that I start to feel old.”

“You’re not old yet. At least, my imitation hasn’t surpassed the original. Until then, you will still be my shelter from the storm,” Cao Ang said, gazing at his father. He couldn’t remember the last time they had spoken like this as father and son.

“What if I told you I was merely testing you earlier?” Cao Cao said sternly. “What if I had been trying to trick you?”

“Then it’s time to lay my cards on the table,” Cao Ang smiled. “Being sheltered under your wing means I’m protected from the elements, but one day, you won’t be able to protect me anymore. I’m growing too, and even young tigers become adult tigers eventually.”

Cao Cao stared at Cao Ang, who now exuded the same fearless spirit that Cao Cao himself had when he first established his authority. “You’ve still got a long way to go, little tiger. Right now, you’re more of a young calf!”

Cao Ang confidently met his father’s gaze. He had long wanted to face his father without fear. Now that he could, a part of him yearned to return to the time when he still held reverence for his father. He had grown up, and his father had grown older.

“Well done,” Cao Cao praised him. Even generals like Xiahou Dun and Xiahou Yuan had trouble holding Cao Cao’s gaze for long, yet Cao Ang faced him without flinching.

“After your month of reflection, go to the Ministry of Personnel and study under Zhong Yuanchang to learn how to handle administrative affairs,” Cao Cao instructed, signaling that their conversation was over. Though pleased with his son’s growth, it also reminded him that his own time was passing.

Cao Ang nodded and left, knowing what his father truly wanted him to learn: not administration, but decisiveness. For the first time, Cao Cao had recognized his talented eldest son as his successor, no longer simply testing him but actively preparing him for leadership.

“I didn’t expect things to turn out like this. Lady Ding must be pleased,” Cao Cao mused as he watched his son leave, a smile crossing his face. As a father, seeing his son grow up brought both the sadness of aging and the joy of pride.

Meanwhile, over in Liu Bei’s camp, chaos was brewing. The decision to lend soldiers to Li Jue and others had nearly been finalized, but the question of how to convince Liu Bei to agree, as well as who would oversee the loaned troops, remained a thorny issue.

“Lend soldiers, lend soldiers, lend soldiers—sounds easy! How are we going to get Liu Bei’s approval?” Liu Ye argued, tapping the table in frustration.

“We can’t just loan out the troops without Lord Xuande’s approval!” Chen Xi retorted with a roll of his eyes. “And I doubt that the Qin Empire will be easy to deal with!”

A serious expression crossed Liu Ye’s face. He suddenly realized that there were two people present who could lend the troops without Liu Bei’s approval: Chen Xi, who held the authority to command the soldiers, and Li You, who could manipulate the accounts. Together, they could move the troops unnoticed.

Chen Xi’s words caused a hush to fall over the room. Everyone realized the potential power of a collaboration between Chen Xi and Li You—they could move troops without needing anyone’s approval, not even the military’s, and without oversight.

Li You’s authority was broad, but his most important power was similar to the responsibilities of the Eastern Depot during the later Ming Dynasty. Since Liu Bei didn’t handle the day-to-day affairs, Chen Xi had always made sure to send copies of official documents to Liu Bei as a courtesy.

In practice, if Li You approved the allocation of funds and supplies, and Chen Xi gave the command to move troops, they could do so without anyone’s supervision. Soldiers, funds, and provisions would all be diverted before anyone noticed.

“Our duties seem a bit muddled,” Chen Xi sheepishly admitted after realizing his slip.

“That’s how it is when you’re on the rise,” Liu Ye said after a brief pause. He understood where Chen Xi’s military authority came from, and as for his administrative power, Liu Ye agreed that Chen Xi should have ample authority in that realm as well.

“How about this? We divide into three groups: one to create policies, one to review and approve them with the power to reject, and a third group that only handles implementation,” Chen Xi suggested after a moment of reflection. “That way, no one can bypass anyone else.”

“No, that would be too slow,” Li You immediately pointed out the flaw in the system. Without decisive authority, or with reviewers rejecting policies just for the sake of rejecting them, things could grind to a halt.

“If we didn’t have military power mixed in, our current setup would be excellent,” Liu Ye said after a moment of thought. “While Chen Xi holds decisive power, most of the time, there’s a balance of reviewing and implementing policies. Chen Xi set that up from the beginning.”

Lu Su chimed in with a fair assessment: “In truth, it’s not that Chen Xi and Li You hold too much power; it’s just unfortunate that someone among us holds military power.”

When Chen Xi originally distributed responsibilities, he designed the system to include checks and balances, ensuring that the policy planners and reviewers were never the same person. Only when things moved too slowly did Chen Xi, as the designer of the system, intervene to expedite the process.

Thus, Chen Xi functioned like a chancellor overseeing the three provincial departments and six ministries. His primary role was to step in when the bureaucracy became bogged down or when decisions were disputed, allowing for swift action or rejection.

No one had an issue with this. In times of chaos, efficiency and strong leadership were crucial. Even in a well-balanced system, someone had to have the final say, just as in the Han dynasty, the chancellor held ultimate authority above the three highest ministers.

“Even if I wanted to give up this military authority, I wouldn’t be able to,” Chen Xi admitted after a long pause. The military power had been placed in his hands, not as a trump card for himself, but as a safeguard provided by Liu Bei.

Not reclaiming that military power demonstrated Liu Bei’s trust in Chen Xi and served as a guarantee of safety. If, one day, Liu Bei decided to turn against Chen Xi, the military power in Chen Xi’s hands would allow him to defend himself. So even if Chen Xi wanted to return the authority, it wasn’t something he could easily do.

Moreover, as the overseer of military power, Liu Bei didn’t need tokens or decrees to command the troops. His confidence came from his personal connections. Any lord who personally knew all the military officers in his territory had little to fear from a rebellion.

If this were the emperor, even if someone stole the imperial seal, it would be meaningless. The emperor himself was a living authority, and there was no need to fear anything going wrong.

Thus, while Chen Xi could technically move troops without notifying Liu Bei, he knew that his power was still under Liu Bei’s watchful eye. The military authority he held now wasn’t truly his; it was a gift from Liu Bei to ensure his safety.

It was a safety net, ensuring that if Liu Bei ever acted irrationally and turned against him, Chen Xi would be protected until Liu Bei regained his senses. Or, it could ensure the safe departure of Chen Xi’s entire family, though that day would never come.

Liu Bei, too, knew that Chen Zichuan had his own contingency plans, but he still entrusted this power to Chen Xi. Trust needed to be maintained, after all.

Everyone in the room took a sharp breath at this revelation. They weren’t fools. Chen Xi had spelled things out so clearly that they all understood what he meant.

“Let’s move on from this,” Liu Ye said, reluctantly playing the role of the peacemaker. Every organization needed someone to step up in such moments.

“So, there’s no point in discussing military power any further. Lord Xuande will never reclaim it, as it’s his final layer of protection for me,” Chen Xi said after a moment. “And talking with you all won’t solve anything. I’ll go talk to Lord Xuande myself. Isn’t it just about lending troops?”

“Are you sure you want to tell Lord Xuande all of this?” Li You asked after a pause. “What if he suddenly realizes that all his efforts so far are just the beginning and gets cold feet?”

“Then I’ll drag him onto the right path if I have to. People are often forced into action, whether by others or by themselves. Otherwise, none of us would have achieved what we have today,” Chen Xi said with a cold laugh. “Besides, I’m not sure Lord Xuande will react that way!”

“Very well, do as you wish. If anything goes wrong, it’ll be on you to fix it. And remember, you haven’t yet lived up to your promises of ‘dominating the world,’ ‘embracing all things,’ ‘being just and impartial,’ or ‘ruling with wisdom, courage, diligence, and love for the people,’” Li You added with a smirk.

“Well, then, let’s make that happen this time!” Jia Xu slowly raised his hand and said, “I’m willing to trust Lord Xuande, and I’m willing to trust Zichuan too!”

Previous Chapter | | Next Chapter