From the winter of the fifth year of Zhongping to the sixth year of Zhongping, the promotion of fertile land in Bingzhou was successfully carried out thanks to the yield from Suiyuan City.

During this time, when every family could enjoy a peaceful year, Qin Yu, along with the state’s officials and clerks, supervised and completed the widespread teaching of the Qu Tian method of farming.

So when the news of Liu Hong’s severe illness arrived, Qiao Yan felt less panic about the impending significant event.

And indeed, she had no need to feel this way.

Now, there were few external threats to Bingzhou.

The only potential danger lay in Shuofang County, where Qiao Yan had sent Zhao Yun.

Zhao Yun, along with Linghu Shao, was to guard against the Western Qiang people who were being purged by Huangfu Song.

These people might either retreat to the east of Liangzhou, where Ma Teng and Han Sui were, or attack Shuofang County.

As for within Bingzhou, the increase in grain yield per acre and the shift of the academic education center towards Leping had fostered a sense of unity among the people.

At this time, Liu Hong no longer had the strength to deal with Qiao Yan’s isolated power, and could only focus on the situation within Luoyang, which further ensured Qiao Yan’s safety.

The only thing she needed to worry about was—

When exactly should she quietly disappear, ensuring that she wouldn’t become a tool for Liu Hong to break the stalemate as he lay dying?

In the course of history, especially concerning life and death, there are too many uncertainties for an emperor who did not die a natural death.

Just relying on Qiao Yan’s memory of his time of death and the scattered people she had arranged in Luoyang was not enough to achieve accurate monitoring.

So she needed an ally, or rather an insider.

The phrase “the emperor is seriously ill,” written in neat yet strong strokes, came from Ma Lun.

Two months ago, Qiao Yan had sent her a letter, and it was only today that she received a reply, which was not surprising at all.

Getting this reply was enough for her.

For Ma Lun, holding the position of Grand Historian was her first step towards independence from the Yuan family of Runan.

However, taking another step forward, from discussing astronomical and calendar reforms with Qiao Yan to discussing such critical matters, was somewhat difficult.

For this reason, Qiao Yan wrote her a lengthy letter.

This certainly carried some risk, but when the matter also concerned Ma Lun’s own safety and the safety of her family, the Ma clan of Fufeng, when whatever choice she made, Qiao Yan held military power and firmly controlled Bingzhou, she would not make an unwise decision.

At the beginning of the letter, Qiao Yan mentioned—

“The Emperor is weak and will not live long. Once he passes away, no matter who succeeds him, there will be concerns about the young ruler and the instability of the nation.

The Yuan family is decaying and cannot ensure your safety. The Ma family of Fufeng, situated in the heart of the Three Auxiliaries, cannot be protected if a rebellion occurs in Longxi.”

This was indeed a fact.

Since last June, Liu Hong’s illness had worsened to the point where he could not even withstand a strong wind.

Even if he refused to admit it, all his subordinates, including Ma Lun, could see it clearly.

Regardless of whether the successor was the 16-year-old Liu Bian or the 10-year-old Liu Xie, Luoyang was bound to experience turmoil.

At first glance, the Yuan family seemed secure, relying on General-in-Chief He Jin and having Yuan Shao as the General of the Cavalry, controlling significant military power.

This might seem sufficient to protect them during a change of rulers.

Moreover, the Yuan family’s prestigious status, with four generations holding the Three Excellencies position, would usually ensure the safety of the whole clan.

But Ma Lun was astute.

The Yuan family’s reputation was a double-edged sword.

While it was a source of family pride, it also burdened them with unrealistic optimism about the current situation.

The chaos brought by Liu Hong’s indulgent rule was not just about the rampant sale of official positions.

It also meant that the power transition after his death might not be as orderly as the aristocratic families hoped.

Moreover, the conflicts among scholars, the imperial family, and eunuchs made the situation even more complex.

As Qiao Yan said, in the face of the impending upheaval in the capital, how could Ma Lun protect herself?

How could the Ma family of Fufeng protect themselves?

The newly completed Qianxiang calendar had yet to be fully implemented in the capital, and Ma Lun felt a sense of urgency about her work.

Even though her nephew Ma Midi held the position of Grand Commandant, one of the Three Excellencies, this did little to alleviate her concerns.

“You once spoke to me about the laws of solar eclipses. If your calculations are correct, there will be an eclipse around March or April of this year. The emperor, while agreeing to the reform of the calendar to diminish the association of natural phenomena with his virtue, will still dismiss the Three Excellencies due to the eclipse. The Grand Commandant has been frequently replaced; how can Weng Shu be exempt?”

Weng Shu was Ma Midi.

Ma Lun pondered this statement for a long time and had to admit that Qiao Yan was right.

While the Grand Commandant held some real power, Liu Hong, increasingly paranoid and feeling betrayed by those around him, would not allow the Grand Commandant to serve a full year.

A few years ago, Liu Hong tried to explain natural disasters by seeking patterns, so people wouldn’t associate locust plagues and epidemics directly with him.

But now, he unhesitatingly blamed these phenomena on the Three Excellencies, dismissing them whenever they occurred.

The threat was real.

Liu Hong’s erratic behavior and his tendency to scapegoat his officials during times of celestial disturbances put everyone in a precarious position, especially those like Ma Midi, who held crucial positions.

In this context, Qiao Yan’s warning was timely and poignant.

It highlighted the precariousness of Ma Lun’s and her family’s situation, urging her to consider her next moves carefully.

“…using celestial phenomena as a reason to dismiss the Three Excellencies.

Ma Midi had assumed the position of Grand Commandant in July of last year.

With the rebellions across the regions being quelled this year, would the solar eclipse in March or April become the reason for his dismissal?

Highly likely!

Ma Lun did not believe Ma Midi would be an exception.

‘The rumbling of war chariots, the burning of classical texts, such acts may no longer be just in the past.

Those in power view those below as mere pawns in their games, a common occurrence in these times…’

Ma Lun gazed toward the Lingtai Observatory.

Previously, to quickly calculate the Qianxiang calendar after Liu Yuanzhuo invented the abacus, many women were recruited from the capital to assist in perfecting the calendar.

Over the past year, this place had unexpectedly become a haven.

This was mainly because she held the position of Grand Historian, and the Lingtai Observatory had minimal contact with outsiders, hence there was little outside criticism.

This now became another reason pushing her to make a decision.

If drastic changes occurred in the capital and the Yuan family couldn’t be relied upon, and the Ma family couldn’t be protected, how could she ensure the safety of these people?

Among the high-ranking officials in the empire, perhaps only Qiao Yan sincerely believed that Ma Lun was capable of holding the position of Grand Historian, and that what her assistants were doing was a monumental achievement, not just a result of Liu Hong’s rebellious tendencies to suppress old and stubborn ministers.

“You do not need to make an early decision. Wait until what I have said comes true before giving me a reply. Just inform me when the emperor’s illness becomes critical.”

No need to make an early decision?

Upon careful consideration, Ma Lun felt she no longer had the luxury of time to hesitate.

Qiao Yan’s potential insiders were not limited to just Ma Lun.

Qiao Yam, as he had been called, had shown a determined and enterprising spirit in her rise to power.

From her careful steps over the past five years, she had never made a mistake.

Why would she place all her bets on Ma Lun alone?

Instead, Ma Lun found herself in the swirling vortex of Luoyang’s politics, needing Qiao Yan’s support to escape it.

She needed to make a decision quickly!

Hesitation leads to complications, a truth that has held throughout history!

It was this realization that prompted her to send a reply to Bingzhou in the first month of the year.

Who knew the most about Liu Hong’s health?

Undoubtedly, the imperial physicians did.

But these physicians would never dare tell the emperor that he was beyond help; they would only prescribe mild, nourishing remedies.

They were well-versed in the art of survival and would never leak such sensitive information.

The eunuchs attending to the emperor were another source.

However, these eunuchs’ power was directly tied to Liu Hong.

The closer Liu Hong was to death, the more they would cling to their positions and the less likely they were to share the truth.

Ma Lun continued her thoughts:

Those closest to the emperor, who understood the gravity of his condition, would be unwilling to risk their positions by revealing the truth prematurely.

This secrecy created a barrier that made it difficult for anyone outside the inner circle to get accurate information about Liu Hong’s health.

Qiao Yan’s insight into these dynamics showed his strategic acumen.

She understood the need for reliable information from within the palace and had likely placed other insiders in key positions to ensure he had multiple sources of intelligence.

Ma Lun realized that her alliance with Qiao Yan was not just a matter of survival but a strategic necessity.

Her position as Grand Historian, her work on the Qianxiang calendar, and her connection to the Ma family all depended on navigating the impending crisis with precision and foresight.

Thus, she resolved to act decisively.

The sooner she aligned her actions with Qiao Yan’s strategy, the better her chances of securing her position and protecting those under her care.

As the succession loomed closer, the eunuchs who served the emperor became even more tightly knit, unwilling to easily form alliances with outsiders.

Even when Bi Lan sent his improved ideas for the threshing machine to Bingzhou last autumn, he did not mention anything related to Liu Hong’s condition.

Ma Lun represented the third category.

Liu Hong had shifted from seeking medical cures to looking for divine intervention, hoping for more time.

Since September of the previous year, Liu Hong had frequently visited the Lingtai and Biyong, performing rituals and praying to heaven and earth.

Ma Lun observed this change and saw that the emperor was in his final struggle.

He had tried to consolidate Dong Zhuo’s military power, aiming to eliminate another external threat while he was ill.

Unfortunately, the rebellion in Liangzhou had only temporarily ceased and was not completely quelled.

Liu Hong still needed Dong Zhuo to fight for him.

When Dong Zhuo presented this reason, Liu Hong had to acquiesce.

As winter set in, he no longer had the strength to impose restrictions.