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Fei Qian held the letter sent by Jia Qu, his brow furrowed. He summoned Huang Cheng and Ma Yan, passing the letter to them to read.
In the Han dynasty, Bingzhou was still lush with trees, unlike the dusty wastelands of later eras. According to Ma Yan, only in the northwest of Sheyan and Guizi lay a vast desert where no grass grew.
If the forest before them were cut down, would a new desert form here in a hundred years?
Historically, Hedong Commandery, despite Dong Zhuo's capital relocation and the chaos in the Three Adjuncts, suffered only from refugee influxes, not major losses. Until the late Three Kingdoms period, it remained a relatively safe rear area, never a primary battlefield, making it a stable granary for Cao Cao.
Fei Qian's actions would inevitably reduce Hedong's grain reserves. Once the butterfly flapped its wings, would it alter the course of this historical river?
Fei Qian didn't know.
Just as when Wang Mang usurped the throne, if Liu Xiu had been eliminated early, would another emerge?
In later-era classrooms, teachers said history was both accidental and inevitable. So, was Fei Qian himself an accident or an inevitability?
He didn't know.
Sometimes, Fei Qian felt like an undercover agent in a spy thriller, his mind swirling with countless thoughts, yet forced to remain silent.
Without enduring the pain of restraint, one couldn't understand its cost. Without crossing time, one couldn't grasp the bitterness of being a transmigrator. In ordinary times, he envied those who commanded the winds and rains, unaware that such storms weren't always their choice. Sometimes, they couldn't stop even if they wanted to.
Like now.
"Shuye, Chengyuan, how should we handle this letter?"
He didn't ask for their thoughts but how to handle it, implying it must be dealt with—only the method was in question.
Huang Cheng, now clad in the standard armor of a junhou (battalion commander), exuded strength despite its simplicity. Having read the letter, he gave a hearty grin. "If they don't comply, beat them until they do."
A direct but effective approach.
Fei Qian nodded and turned to Ma Yan.
Ma Yan returned the letter, thought for a moment, and said, "There are other methods, but they'd take more time. I agree with a direct campaign. The Zhang family is in the wrong. However, they're neither too big nor too small, and their estate in the east is well-fortified. We might face some losses."
Other methods likely included rallying public opinion, having Hedong intervene, or using requisitions as leverage, but they would all take longer.
"Fight, then?" Fei Qian murmured, deep in thought.
---
Inside a tent, Huang Xu paced restlessly, circling back and forth, while Jia Qu sat upright, calm and composed.
"I say we strike directly! The Zhang family is nothing! Didn't our lord leave us here to prevent these fools from causing trouble? I don't believe the Zhang family has that many troops. How long can a measly estate hold out?"
Huang Xu waved his arms, as if he could flatten the Zhang estate single-handedly.
In his mind, this was entirely the Zhang family's greed at fault. They signed the contract, yet now wanted to back out and renegotiate prices. Where in the world was such a deal?
If reason didn't work, fists would!
Huang Xu wasn't incapable of thinking, but he saw this as blatant provocation. How could he tolerate it?
If Fei Qian hadn't repeatedly instructed him to follow Jia Qu's lead before departing, Huang Xu would likely already be leading troops to besiege the Zhang estate.
Deep down, Huang Xu had another thought: Fei Qian entrusted the Anyi camp to him and Jia Qu, effectively giving them independent command. Failing to handle a minor issue like the Zhang family would be like tripping face-first into the mud right out the gate.
That was something Huang Xu refused to accept.
While Huang Xu was eager to prove himself, Jia Qu was more cautious, thinking more deeply.
As a Hedong native, Jia Qu knew the Zhang family's status. They weren't a major clan or powerful magnate, just a mid-to-low-tier local gentry with seven or eight hundred guards. What gave them the audacity to challenge?
Unless the Wei family was backing them.
If it were just the Zhang family, Jia Qu would agree with Huang Xu—deal with them and move on. But with the Wei family involved, it wasn't so simple.
The Wei family was renowned in Hedong, with estates not only in Anyi but also in Wenxi, Linfen, and elsewhere—six or seven in total. The larger estates had over a thousand guards, the smaller ones a few hundred. Even averaging a thousand per estate, they had five or six thousand men…
Huang Xu stopped in front of Jia Qu, leaning down to stare at him. "Liangdao, one word: can we fight?"
Jia Qu met his gaze and shook his head firmly.
Huang Xu, frustrated, let out a huff, stomped his foot, flung open the tent flap, and stormed out.
But moments later, he burst back in, holding a letter sealed with red wax.
"This is our lord's reply to you!" Huang Xu handed it to Jia Qu, leaning in without any intent to step aside, clearly wanting to read it too.
Jia Qu smiled. There was no need for secrecy, so he checked the seal, sliced it open with a bamboo knife, and began reading…
---
Atop Anyi's city wall, a soldier in the watchtower had been observing Fei Qian's camp for a long time. Seeing no troop movements and noting the darkening sky, he descended and turned a corner to find a junhou sitting on a stool in the guardroom, leaning against the wall, feet up, sipping vinegar from a small gourd.
"Er Heizi, any movement outside?" the junhou asked, lowering his feet as the soldier approached.
"Well… sir, no movement yet… I've been watching all day, eyes nearly gone blind… Probably no action today…" Er Heizi said with a sheepish grin, bowing slightly.
"You lazy fool!" The junhou gave Er Heizi a light smack on the forehead. "I told you to report when there's movement, and you're already guessing this and that after just a bit of watching? Why don't you guess your way to the heavens? Get back and keep watching!"
Er Heizi grinned cheekily. "Alright, alright! I'm going!" But his feet didn't move, his eyes fixed on the vinegar gourd, licking his lips.
"You rascal!" The junhou grumbled but handed over the gourd. Er Heizi took a big gulp, and the junhou snatched it back, distressed. "Trying to choke on vinegar, you fool?"
The gulp of vinegar sent a shiver through Er Heizi. He exhaled, "Won't choke—feels great!"
The junhou raised his foot as if to kick, and Er Heizi scampered off.
The junhou chuckled, sat back down, propped up his feet, and shook the gourd, frowning at its reduced contents.
Before he could settle, Er Heizi came pounding back, panting. "Movement… movement… there's movement!"
The junhou sprang up, nearly hitting his head on the wall, and steadied his skewed helmet. "Let's go see!"