Chapter Ninety-Two: The Tree That Stands Out in the Forest

After leaving Liu Biao's residence, Shen Chen pondered deeply on the journey back.

Ever since the tuntian agricultural colonies had been established in Nanyang, he had been laying his plans. The refugees from Guanzhong, along with the former Yellow Turban population from Runan and Nanyang, numbered some four to five hundred thousand souls, and the greater part of them had fallen under Liu Biao's jurisdiction.

The Han dynasty levied a poll tax, which by and large amounted to roughly the same as a tithe—that is, one-tenth of one's land produce went to the imperial treasury.

But the tuntian system was quite different: the amount delivered to the government far exceeded the regular tax. For instance, under the later Wei tuntian of Cao Cao's era, if one used government oxen, the split was sixty percent to the state and forty to the people; with private oxen, it was an even fifty-fifty division. By the late Wei period, the share demanded by the authorities kept climbing, even reaching the point of eighty percent to the state and twenty to the people—each year, eighty percent of the harvest had to be surrendered to the court, driving vast numbers of tuntian farmers to flee or rebel, and uprisings broke out without end.

Liu Biao's tuntian, however, was calculated at fifty-fifty for government oxen, and sixty-forty in favor of the cultivators for private oxen.

Yet even so, the wealth and harvest that flowed to Liu Biao each year was an exceedingly formidable figure.

Shen Chen had suggested placing the tuntian lands in Nanyang primarily because the Nanyang Basin was then a region of few people and much land, with vast tracts available for reclamation.

At the time, Liu Biao had not yet broken with Cao Cao. On the surface, Liu Biao, Cao Cao, and Yuan Shao were allied, jointly opposing the coalition of Gongsun Zan, Tao Qian, and Yuan Shu.

So neither he nor his council of advisors had given any thought to the problems that Nanyang's tuntian system might pose after the eventual rupture with Cao Cao.

Now that Cao Cao had marched south to attack Zhang Xiu, only two roads lay before Liu Biao: the first was to abandon the Nanyang Basin entirely and pull his defensive line back to the environs of Xiangyang.

The second was to fight Cao Cao and drive him out of Nanyang.

Historically, he had in fact chosen the second path. When Cao Cao came, he sent troops to join Zhang Xiu and fight a decisive battle against the Cao army. At that time, Cao Cao dispatched Cao Hong to engage them, and the combined forces of Zhang Xiu and Liu Biao beat Cao Hong back step by step.

Then, in the second year of Jian'an—November of 197 AD—Cao Cao, fresh from a triumphant eastern campaign against Yuan Shu in September, marched south once more on his second expedition against Zhang Xiu. He breached the counties of Wuyin and Huyang in quick succession and captured Deng Ji, the defender of Huyang.

Then came the third year of Jian'an—March of 198 AD by the Western reckoning—when Cao Cao made his third campaign into Nanyang and laid siege to Rangcheng, where Zhang Xiu was holed up. Liu Biao also dispatched troops to Anzhong, cutting off Cao Cao's line of retreat.

Many people know of this battle, for it produced one of Jia Xu's most celebrated moments. Cao Cao used an unexpected maneuver to crush the combined forces of Zhang Xiu and Liu Biao, and then—because of rumors that Yuan Shao intended to launch a surprise attack on Xudu—he retreated despite his overwhelming victory. Jia Xu outwitted him, and Zhang Xiu broke the rear guard of Cao Cao's army.

Thus, from all signs, Liu Biao had not been entirely willing to abandon Nanyang. It was only later, when Zhang Xiu surrendered to the Cao forces and the outer bastion was lost, that he had no choice but to recruit Liu Bei to garrison Xinye, yielding the greater part of Nanyang territory to Cao Cao.

And now, when Shen Chen schemed against Liu Biao, his purpose was to give the man a compelling reason to defend Nanyang with every ounce of his strength.

Because in Liu Biao's view, Nanyang could be defended—but he could not defeat Cao Cao, and in the end he would have to give it up and contract his defensive lines.

But in Shen Chen's eyes, Nanyang possessed tremendous strategic significance. Its continued presence in Liu Biao's hands would pose a lasting threat to Cao Cao's rear. So Shen Chen had to think of every possible way to compel Liu Biao to hold Nanyang to the death.

Thus, if Liu Biao himself was loath to abandon Nanyang, and Shen Chen gave him an additional reason why he could not abandon it, then Liu Biao would have to invest ever more heavily in the region.

What, then, were Shen Chen's proposals?

The first was to replace the officials in Nanyang with capable administrators—men like Huo Du and Huo Jun, or such able ministers and officers as Li Yan, Yi Ji, and Han Ran. What such men could do was govern the locality well, deliver a steady stream of grain and wealth to Liu Biao, and at the same time expand his armies.

The second was to push the defensive line forward. Until then, the farthest the line had extended was Xinye, while nearly everything north of Wancheng had been handed over to Zhang Xiu. But Zhang Xiu could not defeat Cao Cao, and when Cao Cao made his second expedition against him, even Wancheng was taken.

So if only the defensive line could be advanced, and Liu Biao's main forces around Xiangfan pushed forward, then when the Cao army arrived, Liu Biao's main strength would have no choice but to throw itself into a decisive battle with Cao Cao.

Unfortunately, Liu Biao was no fool. Though he had not perceived the grand scheme Shen Chen was weaving, he understood well enough that Shen Chen was trying to drag him fully into the mire.

And so he did not take the bait.

Instead, he rapped Shen Chen across the knuckles on the one hand, and on the other, he sent Gan Ning's defensive line forward.

A blow with the stick, then a sweet date by way of consolation.

Liu Biao was also perfectly aware of the relationship between Gan Ning and Deng Hong, so in essence he was all but handing Gan Ning's troops over to Shen Chen.

Quite clearly, Liu Biao's thinking was: I cannot send my main forces to the front line, but I'll give you five thousand men—go and stir up whatever trouble you like. As long as my interests are protected, don't drag me into anything else.

Beyond that, Liu Biao would also replace a great number of officials, which served both to safeguard his tuntian interests and to have those officials assist Shen Chen in his arrangements at the front.

Because he had elevated Deng Mao and Wang Yi—a man on good terms with the Deng clan—to the first and second positions of authority in Nanyang, the officials he dispatched would have to obey the command of Wang Yi and Deng Mao, and in the future would naturally act in accordance with the demands of Shen Chen and his people.

So, in simple terms, Shen Chen had wanted to bind Liu Biao to his war chariot.

But Liu Biao did not wish to climb aboard, yet he could not bear to part with his interests in Nanyang, and at the same time he bitterly resented those Nanyang officials who surrendered at the first sight of the enemy and trimmed their sails to every wind.

And so, short of refusing to move his main forces forward, he agreed to all of Shen Chen's other conditions.

More importantly, he granted the Huangmen post an enormous degree of autonomy—a measure of military authority and even control over official appointments.

This was undoubtedly a message to Shen Chen: here is a measure of support; the rest you shall develop on your own. How far you rise will depend entirely on your own ability.

So although Shen Chen had not fully bound Liu Biao to his chariot, neither was he left completely empty-handed.

It was merely that the result still fell far short of what he had anticipated.

"Liu Biao is no fool," Shen Chen sighed.

Deng Hong, seated beside him, said, "Achen, do we truly intend to keep fighting Cao Cao?"

"Grand-uncle, the blood feud of our clan admits no shared sky," Shen Chen said in a low voice. "Twenty-three of my grandfather's generation, uncles, and cousins were buried at Zengyangju. Your clan must have lost a good many kinsmen as well."

"Thirty-four," Deng Hong said, and then fell silent.

He was the patriarch of the Deng clan of Zengyangju, so the entire Deng lineage there consisted of his relatives. Of the hundred-odd people who had died, the greater half bore the surname Shen or Deng, all of them uncles and cousins within the five degrees of mourning. If one also counted the women who had married into the family—like Seventh Aunt, the wife of Seventh Uncle Shen Min—then the number of such relatives would be even greater.

In truth, of those who had died at Zengyangju that day, most were kinsmen very close to Shen Chen and Deng Hong. From the outer villages, only a few families like those of Deng Mao and Shen Zhong had been caught up in it.

How could such a blood debt be wiped away simply because the enemy was powerful?

And yet, in the end, what could a mayfly do to shake a mighty tree?

Deng Hong let out a long sigh.

Shen Chen drew open the curtain of the carriage and said softly, "Besides, we have already made a death enemy of Cao Cao. Even if we tried to hide ourselves away in Nanyang, did Cao Ren not come chasing after us? Grand-uncle, set aside such impractical thoughts. Only by choosing to fight Cao Cao to the bitter end do we have any chance of survival."

"I understand," Deng Hong said with a slight nod.

The carriage rolled slowly through the streets.

People came and went along the thoroughfare, and at the entrance to a restaurant some distance away, a man was regaling a crowd with a vivid tale.

"Cao Cao marched several tens of thousands of troops south to attack our Xiangyang, and Zhang Xiu surrendered without a fight! Cao Ren—do you know him? Cao Cao's cousin, a great general of the Cao army—he led a mighty host straight for Huangmen post at Xinye. And there, at that Huangmen post, a young hero arose..."

Shen Chen could no longer hear the rest.

Whether in ancient times or the modern, word-of-mouth has never gone out of fashion as a means of spreading information. From the proclamations posted at the city gates, the storytellers in the taverns, and the whispers passed from lip to lip in antiquity, down to the idle gossip of old men and women sunning themselves at the village entrance in the present age—the form changes, but the essence remains.

Nearly half a month had passed since Cao Cao's retreat, and the news had long since reached Xiangyang by every channel.

And the tale of that young hero—who had rallied his fellow townsmen to resist the Cao army, annihilated the invaders to the last man, and slain the great Cao general Cao Ren—had naturally already spread throughout the city.

It was much like the time when Cheng Yu, in his early years, had led his fellow townsmen in defending against the Yellow Turbans.

The difference was that, in the end, Cheng Yu had made dried flesh of his fellow townsmen and presented it to Cao Cao, whereas Shen Chen had become the hero of Huangmen post, celebrated throughout the surrounding counties and townships, his name eventually resounding across all Jingchu.

Yet this brought Shen Chen little joy.

For the tallest tree in the forest is the first to be felled by the wind.

"Shen, old friend!"

"Mmm?"

Shen Changqing walked along the road. Whenever he encountered someone he knew, they would exchange a greeting or a nod of the head.

But no matter who it was, each face carried no superfluous expression—as if they were utterly indifferent to everything.

To this, Shen Changqing had long since grown accustomed.

For this was the Demon Suppression Bureau, an institution tasked with maintaining the stability of the great Qin. Its principal duty was to slay demons, monsters, and malevolent spirits—though it also had a few other sidelines.

One might well say that every person within the Demon Suppression Bureau had stained their hands with a great deal of blood.

When a man has grown accustomed to life and death, many things in the world grow dim and indifferent to him.

When he had first arrived in this world, Shen Changqing found it hard to adapt. But as time passed, he grew used to it.

The Demon Suppression Bureau was vast.

Those who were permitted to remain within its ranks were all formidable experts—or those who possessed the potential to become such experts.

Shen Changqing belonged to the latter category.

The Bureau was divided into two positions: the first was that of Warden, and the second that of Demon Exorcist.

Anyone who entered the Bureau began at the lowest rank of Demon Exorcist, and only then advanced step by step, with the hope of eventually becoming a Warden.

Shen Changqing's predecessor had been an apprentice Demon Exorcist in the Bureau—the very lowest grade of that office.

Possessing the memories of his predecessor, he was thoroughly familiar with the environment of the Bureau.

It did not take him long to stop before a certain pavilion.

Unlike the other places in the Bureau, which were filled with a killing air, this pavilion stood out like a crane among chickens—amid all the blood-soaked grimness of the Demon Suppression Bureau, it exuded a serenity unlike anything else.

The pavilion's great doors stood open, and people occasionally passed in and out.

Shen Changqing hesitated only a moment, then stepped across the threshold and went inside.

The moment he entered the pavilion, the atmosphere changed entirely.

A wave of scent from ink, mingled with a faint odor of blood, rushed to meet him. His brows furrowed instinctively, but soon relaxed again.

The smell of blood that clung to every person in the Demon Suppression Bureau was almost impossible to wash away.