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After Dong Zhuo rose to power, he dismissed and replaced a great number of the generals and officers of the Northern Army of the imperial court. Some of these officers had close ties with Dong Zhuo, while others did not. Yet under such murky and uncertain circumstances, not even the most foolish person would lightly reappoint these officers to positions of authority. There was, however, one exception—Huangfu Song, Huangfu Yizhen.
Huangfu Song hailed from Zhaona County in Anding Commandery. Judging purely by his place of origin, he was an undisputed man of Xiliang. Yet, how to put it—to borrow a description from later ages, he was like a banana: yellow on the outside, white on the inside. The previous generation had carved out a realm for the family: his father, Huangfu Jie, had served as Grand Administrator of Yanmen, and his uncle, Huangfu Gui, as General Who Crosses the Liao.
In his own generation, Huangfu Song began steering the family's course, shifting from a military household and edging closer toward the scholarly gentry. He associated with the students of the Imperial Academy, defended those persecuted in the Partisan Prohibitions, exposed the illegal deeds of the Regular Palace Attendants—through such actions, Huangfu Song successfully established, in the eyes of the gentry scions, the image of a "Four Haves" youth of the Han dynasty: one possessed of moral character, ideals, ambition, and culture.
There had even been a time when Emperor Ling of Han had intended to place Dong Zhuo's troops under Huangfu Song's command. Perhaps, from this angle, Huangfu Song might well have believed that Bingzhou, too, could be considered within his sphere of influence—who could say?
People praised Huangfu Song as a celebrated scholar of the age—benevolent and cautious, utterly devoted to his duties, humbling himself before worthy men, diligent in governance and cherishing the people. Practically a perfect sage! When he was charged with suppressing the Yellow Turban rebels and concurrently served as Governor of Ji Province, he repeatedly petitioned the court to reduce the land taxes of Ji Province. He submitted memorials of remonstrance or beneficial counsel a total of over five hundred times, each one personally written, and destroyed the drafts so that not the slightest trace was ever divulged to the outside.
While on military campaigns, if the army's well had not yet been dug, he, as general, would not speak of thirst; if the army's tents had not yet been pitched, he would not speak of weariness; if the army's stoves had not yet been lit, he would not speak of hunger. When subordinate officers and men under his command were found to have accepted bribes, Huangfu Song would not openly rebuke them. Instead, he would gift them further coin and goods, causing those officers and men to feel such shame that some even went so far as to take their own lives.
So often it is this way: things appear so splendid and beautiful on the surface, yet when that surface is peeled away, the truth is not necessarily the same. Those five hundred petitions pleading for tax reductions—so carefully written and destroyed by his own hand, never to be divulged—how then did such supposedly top-secret information become known to all the world? And those greedy military officers, who had dared to risk death by waist-chop and flout military law to accept bribes, yet upon being magnanimously forgiven, promptly committed suicide...
Although Cai Yong was a man who disliked passing judgment on the words and deeds of others, this matter, after all, implicated his own disciple. Thus, after a long, contemplative silence, he still shook his head and said, "...On that day at court, the Grand Master ordered all those from the Palace Aide to the Censor-in-Chief and below to kneel before his carriage... There was a saying then—never did I imagine the Grand Master could transform into a phoenix..."
Such an incident had actually occurred? And then, in the turn of a face, this same man was at Mei Fort, responsible for confiscating property and personally striking down Dong Zhuo's eighty-year-old mother and his granddaughter, not yet fourteen? According to Han law, a person aged seventy or above was to be treated with reverence and respect. Unless they were the principal perpetrator of a violent assault or homicide, no accusation could be brought against them, nor could they be held criminally liable. Yet Huangfu Song had executed Dong Zhuo's mother on the charge of failing to properly instruct her son.
If one viewed it in this light, the puzzle pieces of Huangfu Song's entire character slowly began to form a complete and coherent picture. Furthermore, based on what Fei Qian himself understood and what his teacher, Cai Yong, had said, it now made perfect sense why Huangfu Song had set his sights on Fei Qian.
Huangfu Song was not a man who dared to gnaw on hard bones. That so-called integrity and backbone of a scholar—it was largely a façade, a pretense put on to safeguard his own cherished reputation. Beneath that mask of benevolence lay a ruthless, black heart.
At present, though Dong Zhuo had been executed, men like Niu Fu still commanded troops beyond Chang'an. As the sole figure in the entire court and provinces possessing both experience and seniority, should he not step forward to meet the threat if some trouble arose with the Xiliang troops? Yet, quite evidently, Huangfu Song had no intention of wading into those muddy waters. He wished to extricate himself and head to Bingzhou—a place easier to manipulate, a place where achievements and glory could be more readily reaped.
"So, he has come to pluck the peaches," Fei Qian said with a bitter smile, shaking his head.
Cai Yong pondered for a moment, then also smiled. "That is an exquisite analogy."
Now the situation was understood, but how was he to respond?
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Far away, a thousand li distant in Ji Province, Yuan Shao, too, was preparing to pluck the peaches. Over the past year and more, Yuan Shao had meticulously observed the rules of the game within the Great Han Empire. Thus, he had first erected an altar and, having provisionally assumed the title of General of Chariots and Cavalry, only then began to infiltrate and interfere in the affairs of Ji Province.
Of course, Yuan Shao's actual, imperially-conferred post at this moment was merely that of Grand Administrator of Bohai Commandery. Yet now, after a prolonged exchange of suggestive glances and secret overtures with the various local bosses of Ji Province, Yuan Shao felt that he could perhaps finagle an appointment as Regional Inspector, or even seize a Provincial Governorship, to play with.
Han Fu, naturally, was no Mr. Nice Guy. In fact, Han Fu had, from start to finish, contested Yuan Shao without yielding an inch. When Yuan Shao first arrived in Bohai Commandery, Han Fu had dispatched several trusted aides and attendants, ostensibly to assist Yuan Shao, but in truth—well, both sides knew perfectly well what the real intent was. However, Yuan Shao was, after all, a scion of the Yuan clan.
With a single rallying cry, the gentry of the realm flocked to his banner. Many in Ji Province also extended helping hands to Yuan Shao, and Han Fu's stratagem quickly came to naught. Even so, Han Fu continued to keep a death grip on the grain purse, even secretly reducing the military provisions supplied to Yuan Shao, hoping to cause his army to disperse. Yet it was precisely this that ultimately solidified Yuan Shao's resolve to bring Han Fu down.
As a figure of exalted and noble status, a paragon for the whole realm, Yuan Shao naturally could not personally soil his hands plucking the peaches. Someone else would do the deed for him. That person was Xun Chen.
Within the study of the government office in Ye City, Han Fu asked, "Youruo... what guidance do you bring this time?"
Xun Chen remained silent. Han Fu's eyes widened further and further as he stared at Xun Chen. His hands, beyond his control, began to tremble, while his heart sank relentlessly downward. "...Even you, as well..."
Han Fu closed his eyes and let out a long, deep sigh. When Xun Chen formally stood before him as Yuan Shao's envoy, Han Fu understood what this signified: the Yu Province gentry had abandoned him. To be a man of Yu Province, yet cast aside by the very gentry of Yu Province—what an unbearably humiliating and agonizing thing!
"Who else?" Han Fu asked after a long, heavy silence, his voice trembling faintly.
"Yuancai, Yuanhao, Gongyu, Jingming... Zhongzhi, Gongze, Ziyuan, Yuantu... Colonel Zhu of the Capital, Qu of Xiping..." With each name Xun Chen uttered, Han Fu's body quivered.
"Enough..." Han Fu raised a hand, cutting Xun Chen off. He asked, "...Now, what can be done?"
Xun Chen looked at Han Fu and shook his head. Among those names, some were local magnates and military powerhouses of Ji Province. Some were renowned scholars of the Ji Province gentry. Others were celebrated figures and prestigious clans from Yingchuan and Nanyang in Yu Province. Some had once been his subordinates; others were men he had inevitably offended after establishing himself in Ji Province. And now, all of them had converged, standing united in declaring their support for Yuan Shao.
What recourse was left? Han Fu clutched desperately at the hem of his robe, his lips trembling. Finally, in one last agonized struggle, he asked, "...What may I obtain?"
"Lord Han may obtain a reputation for virtuous worth," Xun Chen replied, prostrating himself on the ground.
Han Fu very nearly leapt to his feet, ready to burst forth with furious curses. A vague, illusory reputation for virtue—in exchange for the entire province! This whelp of the Yuan clan dared treat him thus! Yet in the end, Han Fu said nothing, did nothing. He merely let his head droop down in utter dejection.