Should they press ahead with appointing Qiao Yan as Governor of Bingzhou, or should they first compete for the already planned positions of Governors of Liangzhou and Jingzhou?

It seemed like a straightforward question.

Although the rebels in Liangzhou were not yet subdued, Liu Hong had appointed Huangfu Song and Dong Zhuo to lead troops to break the siege of Chencang.

With Huangfu Song’s military prowess, even if they couldn’t completely eliminate the rebels in one winter, they could stabilize the Han camps, gradually advance the counter-offensive.

Similarly, although southern Jingzhou was plagued by numerous local bandits, exacerbated by the Yellow Turban Rebellion of the 7th year of Guanghe, Jingzhou’s aristocrats and scholars were not few.

With military support, they should have opportunities to counteract.

However, controlling half a province was sufficient to be considered a princely authority.

Compared to this, Bingzhou could face constant threats from Xianbei and Xiongnu raids.

Without Qiao Yan’s firm hand, Bingzhou might not fare better than Liangzhou or Jingzhou.

Indeed… there was no need to stick to this strictly.

Lu Zhi couldn’t help but look at Qiao Yan with a complex expression when she mentioned to Liu Hong that if Yizhou and Youzhou could have governors appointed, then these four provinces should also have governors, not just Bingzhou.

Was this a form of refusal or a lure to divert attention?

Surprisingly, Liu Hong continued without hesitation, confirming Huang Wan as Governor of Yuzhou.

This was clearly not a hasty decision, indicating Qiao Yan had accurately guessed the emperor’s intentions when she spoke.

This same night, a young woman draped in a cloak stood calmly in the courtyard, reminding Lu Zhi of when she had visited the Quzhou Camp at night three and a half, nearly four years ago.

Her gaze was as clear and piercing as it had been then, only marked by the passage of time in stature and maturity.

Seeing her leisurely stance under the chilly moonlight, not troubled by the weighty responsibilities upon her, Lu Zhi couldn’t help but ask, “May I trouble you, Yeshu, to tell me— is the position of Governor of Bingzhou something you sought?”

Under the cold moonlight casting its chilly glow, Lu Zhi’s thin face took on a solemn air.

Qiao Yan met his gaze without hesitation and replied, “Before answering Lord Lu’s question, I would like to share a few stories.”

Seeing Lu Zhi nod, she continued, “Three years ago, when we arrived in Leping, we recruited the Black Mountain bandits and used bark from the Taihang Mountains to make clothes.”

“Including later in Bingzhou, it gradually spread to the mulberry bark clothes.”

When Qiao Yan said this, Lu Zhi realized that this was probably not something she would casually disclose, as the message conveyed externally did not attribute the invention of mulberry bark clothes to Le Ping.

Qiao Yan’s willingness to reveal this special information to him indicated that there was no need for concealment in her response to this question.

Listening to her continue, “When the first mulberry bark clothes were made, I invited a villager to test the effectiveness of the clothes.

He told me that fortunately, the tough texture of mulberry bark made it difficult for pests to chew on it.

Otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many intact mulberry trees left to make paper fur for warmth. Hearing this three years later still had a profound impact.”

“That’s the first story.”

Qiao Yan paused and added, “Two years ago, when I took hostage the Governor Zhang Yi to decide on eradicating locusts, I passed through the farmlands south of Taiyuan County.

I saw farmers crying over their crops and used fishing nets to catch locusts in exchange for food.

Two years later, after lifting the travel ban, I passed by again and saw that their wheat fields had been completely uprooted and replaced with soybeans.”

“I asked why they planted soybeans instead of wheat, considering soybeans aren’t a staple food and yield isn’t high.

They told me that predicting locust disasters isn’t something human effort can manage.

Today, with Marquis Le Ping taking charge and issuing anti-locust strategies, if another person were in Bingzhou tomorrow, it might not be the same. Having something to eat is better than starving outright.”

“Even in Bingzhou, despite irrigation along the Fen River, their agricultural output can’t compare to regions like Jing and Yangzhou.

If they depend on soybeans for a living, after paying taxes like land and mouth taxes, very little is left. But I see their deep conviction in this approach, yet I’m unsure how to advise against it.”

“That’s the second story.”

Qiao Yan spoke calmly, her emotions seeming undisturbed.

However, according to Lu Zhi, the story had deeply shaken not only her at the time.

Lu Zhi had witnessed poverty before, but from a young age, he had studied under Ma Rong, where he encountered talented figures of the Han dynasty.

He had never heard anyone say things like “fortunately didn’t finish eating tree bark” or “better to grow soybeans than wheat during a locust plague.”

To him, these words sounded absurd and poignant.

Qiao Yan continued, “I have seen Black Mountain bandits willingly fall into traps for 30,000 sack of grain. I have also seen them plant and harvest millions of stones of grain on mountain fields and take their rightful share.”

“I have seen Hedong bandits fight among themselves for food, and I have seen them bravely kill bandits to get food.

“Lord Lu, in today’s world, everyone wants to survive. If I am confident in my ability to govern a province and have the opportunity, why shouldn’t I seek to be governor of Bingzhou?”

This seemed like another question with a straightforward answer.

Lu Zhi looked into Qiao Yan’s eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, revealing her unwavering determination.

In the presence of this elder who had recognized her talent, she did not shy away from the question of whether to vie for the position of governor of Bingzhou.

Instead, she confidently stated that if she had the capability and opportunity, she should not hesitate to compete.

The arguments against feudal governors, the claims that Cui Lie was faultless in his position as Inspector of Bingzhou, and the advice to step back three steps to ensure the final step forward would not fail—all seemed only precautions to ensure success.

Yet, this frankness made Lu Zhi consider her intentions plausible.

During the chaotic reign of Dong Zhuo when the Han dynasty was on the verge of collapse, provincial governors posed a threat to imperial unity.

Lu Zhi, a staunch loyalist to the Han dynasty, would never have supported Qiao Yan’s unprecedented promotion.

But now, despite widespread unrest, the Han dynasty still had some stability, making Qiao Yan’s aspiration feasible.

Taking a deep breath, Lu Zhi watched his breath condense into a cloud in the winter air, feeling somewhat relaxed.

He didn’t express approval or opposition to Qiao Yan’s shift from seeking forgiveness to aspiring for the governorship of Bingzhou.

Instead, he suddenly said, “When you return to Bingzhou, send more paper.”

If he hadn’t previously linked mulberry bark clothes with the paper produced by Marquis Le Ping, he might not have seen the connection between paper and paper fur. But since both were products of Le Ping, there was no need for doubt.

If mulberry bark could be used to make paper, then the talk of costs was nonsense.

Lu Zhi didn’t believe Qiao Yan would send him mature paper without having some stockpile.

Sure enough, Qiao Yan promptly bowed to him and replied, “I will follow Lord Lu’s wishes.”

Lu Zhi felt relieved, and Qiao Yan also felt a bit more at ease.

While Liu Hong was wary of Lu Zhi’s control over the military, he did not underestimate Lu Zhi’s importance.

Given Lu Zhi’s current position as Imperial Secretary, while Liu Hong might decide whether to heed advice, influence was another matter.

If Lu Zhi could educate her while in the capital

Once again, there was opposition to her assuming the position of Governor of Bingzhou Province.

This was undoubtedly unwelcome news for Qiao Yan.

Fortunately, Lu Zhi was not a narrow-minded person!

However, what surprised Qiao Yan was that when He Miao, the younger brother of He Jin, spoke first at the court session, questioning whether it was appropriate for a mere woman, even a fourteen-year-old girl, to hold the position of Governor of Bing Province, Lu Zhi turned to He Miao and asked, “What accomplishments do you have to ask such a question?”

Because this debate concerned her, Qiao Yan was also present.

It was early in the morning for the court session, and it was winter, so it was still dark outside the hall, requiring candles inside.

It clearly reflected Lu Zhi’s displeasure when facing He Miao.

One was prominent in civil affairs, the other in military, and because one was the Minister of Works and the other a General of Chariots and Cavalry, they were almost always at odds.

Qiao Yan had a title but no official position, standing in the back row behind the two, observing the confrontation clearly.

He Miao replied without hesitation, “I suppressed the rebellion in Xingyang.”

The Xingyang Rebellion? Indeed, it was a notable achievement for He Miao.

In the fourth year of Zhongping, which is this year in February, rebels in Xingyang killed the magistrate of Zhongmu, and He Miao led the people to quell the rebellion.

Previously appointed as the Colonel of the Yuezhi Camp and the Intendant of Henan, he was promoted to General of Chariots and Cavalry, all due to his sister, Empress He.

Only because of this victorious battle was he ennobled as Marquis of Jiyang, which was his own merit.

Because of this, when he said these words, he felt justified and confident.

Yet immediately, Lu Zhi retorted, “The rebels in Xingyang numbered only over a thousand, and the General of Chariots and Cavalry led three thousand to suppress them.

Isn’t this as easy as cutting wood with iron?

If such an achievement can warrant promotion to the rank of Third-Rank General and the Marquis of Jiyang County, then what about Marquis Leping, who pacified two provinces alone? Shouldn’t he be made Grand General instead?”

“Minister Lu,” just as Lu Zhi finished speaking, Liu Hong at the head of the table spoke up, his words implying caution to Lu Zhi.

However, Liu Hong glanced at Lu Zhi and Qiao Yan, showing no concern for this defense.

In future generations, the Lu family of Fanyang began to flourish only with Lu Zhi, and in the hands of his son Lu Yu, it grew.

Lu Zhi today, though feared by Liu Hong for his military achievements, was not feared because of his background.

When considering it, Lu Zhi and Qiao Yan had something in common.

Just look at the resolute bravery displayed in Lu Zhi’s reports; one could see that this man was a loyal subject of the Han dynasty.

What Liu Hong feared was merely that Lu Zhi had many talented disciples.

If he became a regional commander, it might cause some problems.

But if it’s just at this moment, it could help Qiao Yan the position of Governor of Bingzhou didn’t make him feel like he was engaging in factionalism or favoritism.

At most, he needed to remind Lu Zhi not to offend He Miao too much at this moment.

Lu Zhi nodded politely to He Miao, “General of Chariots and Cavalry, please don’t take offense. I’m just upholding justice as the Minister of Works.”

With that sentence, Lu Zhi shut down He Miao.

He Jin glanced at He Miao’s expression and inexplicably felt like he was seeing his own mistakes from yesterday.

Dealing with these literati’s rhetoric was truly beyond him.

Unfortunately, today was a grand court session, and none of his generals or their deputies could come forward, making it impossible for him to find anyone willing to offer suggestions.

He struggled to recall the draft Chen Lin had prepared for him yesterday, but upon waking up, he had forgotten most of it, only vaguely remembering something about “stealing the tripod, overturning the heavy object, and the dawn of the hen, the search for family.”¹

And then, what was next?

Just sixteen words were not enough to make an impressive statement.

He Jin turned to Yuan Shao with a pleading look for help.

At this moment, although Yuan Shao relied on He Jin, his own position was still respectable.

He currently held the position of General in Luoyang City and naturally attended this court session.

However, Yuan Shao was staring blankly, clearly not intending to respond to He Jin’s gaze.

As Qiao Yan had guessed, when Qiao Yan’s refusal reasons received Liu Hong’s nearly straightforward response and tossed out the bait of Governor of Jingzhou and Governor of Liangzhou, the result of the internal negotiation of the Yuan family was indeed to temporarily abandon their opposition to this appointment of Governor of Bingzhou Province.

Instead, they aimed to ensure their own people, or those they supported, could secure these two lucrative vacancies.

Yuan Wei had once suffered a setback in dealing with Qiao Yan’s ennoblement and still felt there was something mystical about her.

Moreover, in their view, even if Qiao Yan were stripped of the position of Governor of Bingzhou Province, what benefit would there be?

Han Fu, a former associate of the Yuan family and General of the North, although restrained by Qiao Yan, had shown potential for reconciliation by informing the Yuan family about the matter of the Eight Division of the Western Garden.

In fact, if they obstructed too much, it might exacerbate conflicts.

Regardless of whether the position of Governor of Bingzhou Province would be settled, her Marquis of Leping title was secure here.

Given the environment of Bingzhou Province and the bandits and soldiers under Qiao Yan’s command, Han Fu was likely to suffer significant losses.

It might be better for everyone to step back.

In contrast, the value of the other two positions was more worthy of competitive pursuit.