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Cai Yong was, from every conceivable angle, the most suitable candidate.
Perhaps, in the original course of history, Wang Yun merely intended to intimidate. If the Shandong gentry—men like Yang Biao—had shown even a hint of submission, or sent someone to express compliance, Wang Yun might well have granted them a favor. It would have been a perfect display of his authority, while simultaneously demonstrating his magnanimity...
However, after Cai Yong was arrested and thrown into prison, during that long and agonizing stretch of time, only one person of any real standing came forward to plead for him. And that person, frustratingly, was a man from Xiliang: Ma Midi.
The Shandong gentry, men like Yang Biao, seemed to keep their hands tucked firmly in their sleeves. They stood on the sidelines, watching with cold sneers, like the indifferent crowds of a later era—spectators standing on the ground, staring detachedly at a despairing soul on a high ledge, chatting excitedly, perhaps even shouting a few impatient taunts, urging the person to just get on with it.
So, Wang Yun acted on impulse. And then, immediately, he regretted it.
Cai Yong, naturally, knew nothing of these political undercurrents. But under Fei Qian's careful prompting, he swiftly grasped the reality of his situation, and his face could not help but darken.
Fei Qian said, "Consider my own teacher... If I, as a disciple, do nothing, I am unfilial and disloyal. But if I do take action, with just a single word, I would meet the exact same fate... And then, both the Cai family and the Fei family would be ground into dust."
Cai Yong shook his head with a deep sigh and said, "So, Ziyuan, your purpose in presenting that auspicious omen was precisely to bring us to this point?"
Fei Qian nodded.
Historically, Wang Yun's foundation was unstable, and he was desperate to prove himself. Because of this, all his seemingly baffling behavior—whether it was withholding a proper title and reward from Lü Bu, his indecisive and unresolved stance towards the Xiliang officers, or his misguided attempt to use Cai Yong's death to pressure the Shandong gentry—actually stemmed from a single root cause. After assassinating Dong Zhuo, Wang Yun failed to quickly adjust the distribution of interests. He wanted to monopolize power, yet he was terrified of becoming a second Dong Zhuo...
Fei Qian looked at Cai Yong and said, "Teacher, you previously submitted a memorial on the assimilation of the barbarians. Now, all you need to do is..." As he spoke, Fei Qian pulled a sheepskin scroll from his bosom and handed it to Cai Yong.
"This... Ziyuan! You have tremendous gall!" Cai Yong's expression shifted to one of genuine anger upon seeing the contents. He barked in a low, stern voice, "...This is a diplomatic document from the Xiongnu! How can you treat it with such disrespect?!"
Fei Qian obediently lowered his head and admitted his mistake. He had known in his heart the moment he took the scroll out that this old-fashioned pedant would scold him a few times. "Yes, this disciple was wrong. However, if we use the pretext that the Xiongnu are offering tribute and requesting a royal title, and state that they deeply admire Han classical scholarship and wish to invite you, Teacher, to the northern lands to lecture on the classics... well, as for that..."
Given Wang Yun's current state of exhilaration, what exactly the Southern Xiongnu offered as tribute—whether it was three sheep or two cows—was entirely beside the point. The critical thing was the gesture itself, the act of submission. Such an action would prove that the moment Wang Yun took office, he brought auspicious signs and submission from all quarters to the Great Han dynasty. It would signify that Wang Yun was destined to lead the Han to new heights of glory...
Furthermore, at the current time, the undisputed grand teacher of classical scholarship in the court and the realm was indeed Cai Yong.
Therefore, with only a slight push, Cai Yong could legitimately take the Xiongnu's request for a conferment and, in broad daylight, walk right out of Chang'an straight to Bingzhou...
The only issue was whether Cai Yong was willing to cooperate.
Fei Qian looked at Cai Yong with eager, hopeful eyes, praying that he would nod in agreement.
Cai Yong frowned, fixing Fei Qian with a severe stare. In a heavy voice, he said, "Ziyuan, are you asking me to commit the act of deceiving the sovereign?!"
Fei Qian quickly replied, "Not at all, not at all! The Southern Xiongnu Chanyu, Yu Fuluo, genuinely desires to study Han classical texts. He once said that, not being a Han person himself, he considers it a profound regret that he cannot hear a great Confucian scholar lecture in person... This is Yu Fuluo's own wish, so how could it possibly be called deceiving the sovereign?" As for whether Yu Fuluo had ever specifically named Cai Yong, well, that was...
In any case, Fei Qian had the final say on the matter...
Hearing that Fei Qian was not fabricating this out of thin air, but that Yu Fuluo had indeed expressed such a sentiment, Cai Yong's expression finally softened. He nodded and said, "For a barbarian to possess such a heart for learning is most commendable..."
"In that case, Teacher..." Fei Qian wanted to strike while the iron was hot and confirm the plan.
Cai Yong rubbed the sheepskin scroll for a long moment before handing it back to Fei Qian. He asked, "How exactly does Ziyuan plan to carry this out? If I manage to leave, how will you escape unscathed?"
Fei Qian casually rolled the scroll back up and stuffed it into his bosom, a sight that made Cai Yong frown deeply. He then said, "Teacher, this disciple's thinking is as follows..."
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Xun Zhan sat inside an ox-drawn cart, swaying gently as it creaked slowly forward. Suddenly, from a small roadside pavilion, a man stepped out, dressed in a high hat and broad sash, waving his arms and shouting, "Youruo, please stop a moment!"
Xun Zhan ordered the cart to halt. He turned his head to look, then dismounted and cupped his hands in greeting. "Greetings, Gongze."
Guo Tu stepped forward, grasping Xun Zhan's arm with a familiar air. "Youruo, why do you abandon us so?"
Xun Zhan smiled faintly. "My mind is made up, Gongze. There is no need to persuade me further."
Guo Tu let out a sigh, a look of deep regret etched on his face. He tugged Xun Zhan toward the small pavilion, saying, "Zhongzhi wanted to come as well, but our illustrious lord had urgent matters to discuss with him, so..."
Xun Zhan offered a slight smile. "Official business takes precedence. Zhongzhi's sentiment is enough. Please thank him for me, Gongze." In his heart, Xun Zhan was as clear as a mirror. Xin Ping was likely just too embarrassed to face him and was using some excuse to avoid the meeting.
As for Guo Tu, heh, there was practically nothing under heaven that could make him feel embarrassed.
Han Fu was a member of the Yingchuan Han clan. Like Xun Zhan, Guo Tu, and Xin Ping, they were all renowned scholars from Yingchuan. When Han Fu took up the post of Governor of Ji Province, he had invited his fellow townsmen to come and assist him. Thus, Guo Tu, Xin Ping, and Xun Zhan had all originally served as subordinate officials under Han Fu.
It was just that, in the end, these men from Yingchuan—or perhaps the powerful families behind them—chose Yuan Shao when an irreconcilable conflict arose between Yuan Shao and Han Fu.
Han Fu ultimately became a sacrificial pawn, crushed between the Yingchuan and Ji Province gentry clans. Guo Tu and Xin Ping swiftly adjusted their stances and welcomed Yuan Shao as the new teacher of Ji Province.
Xun Zhan, however, resigned his post, hung up his official seal, and left.
Yuan Shao, currently riding high on success, was busy hosting grand banquets and engaging in frequent, intimate contact with the local figures of Ji Province. Naturally, he would pay no attention to a departing Xun Zhan. So what if he was from the Yingchuan Xun clan?
There were plenty of other men from Yingchuan around. Xun Zhan's presence or absence was negligible.
Therefore, Yuan Shao was utterly indifferent to Xun Zhan's departure.
Guo Tu lifted a cup of wine and offered it to Xun Zhan. "Youruo's departure truly grieves my heart... Ah, we used to sit and converse freely, discussing the affairs of the world with such boldness. Parting today, I know not when we shall meet again... May I ask where Youruo intends to go? So that we might exchange letters and send our thoughts to one another..."
Xun Zhan replied, "I intend to return to Yingchuan, to find a place of beautiful mountains and tranquil waters, where I can study the classics and no longer concern myself with worldly affairs..."
Guo Tu blinked, stamped his foot, and sighed dramatically. "A man of Youruo's great talent—this is precisely the time for you to put it to use! How can you simply dedicate yourself to idle landscapes?"
Xun Zhan waved his hand modestly. "Gongze's talent surpasses mine tenfold. Do not jest... Come, let me thank you for this wine. I toast to you, Gongze, that you may realize all the ambitions in your heart. And should you one day return to our homeland in glory, perhaps you might let me bask in a little of your reflected light!"
"Ah... I thank Youruo for such auspicious words..." Guo Tu also raised his cup, and they drained them in one go.
After a few more words, Guo Tu reluctantly escorted Xun Zhan back to his ox cart. He stood there, waving ceaselessly until the cart vanished from sight. Only then did he turn back to the small pavilion, sit down, pour himself a cup of wine, and drink slowly...
After the better part of an hour, several riders came galloping down the main road. They stopped outside the pavilion, dismounted, and bowed. One reported, "The ox cart did indeed head south. It appears to be going toward Yingchuan."
Guo Tu frowned, lost in thought for a moment. In the end, he said nothing, merely waving a hand to dismiss the riders...
So, it was just as well! Since Xun Zhan truly intended to do as he said and return to a life of seclusion in Yingchuan, then Guo Tu saw no need to play the villain any further! He would consider it a kindness owed to their shared hometown ties...
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Those men following behind... had they really left?
Looking at the situation, it seemed those were indeed Guo Tu's own men, not sent by Yuan Shao...
Still, he needed to remain cautious.
Xun Zhan turned his head and peered into the distance for a while. Then, he ordered the ox cart to stop. He disembarked, but instructed the cart and its party to continue onward without him. He himself, taking only a few trusted personal guards, set off down a branching side road.