The official in charge of a prefecture or state was technically a subordinate of the governor's office, receiving a salary of only one hundred shi of grain. Despite this relatively low rank, the position carried immense authority.
A governor's primary duty was supervision. If officials within a prefecture or county committed illegal acts, the governor had the power to impeach and dismiss them. In times of military activity, he could also mobilize troops. Because of this, if a powerful governor intervened in local affairs, most prefectural administrators would not dare oppose him. A single impeachment memorial could easily cost them their positions.
Given such concentrated power, the imperial court was careful not to grant governors excessively high rank, as doing so might encourage regional separatism. Thus, although influential, the governor's official rank was set at only six hundred shi, comparable to that of relatively low-ranking officials. This was a deliberate strategy—using "light authority to control heavy power"—a common method of checks and balances in imperial governance.
Below the governor were subordinates such as the deputy governor and the chief administrator, who handled documentation and merit-based promotions. Additional offices, like clerks and military departments, were established as needed. Each prefecture or kingdom also had inspectors responsible for oversight.
Zhang Xin's role as Inspector of Yuyang Commandery was, in practice, equivalent to that of a governor. He could supervise affairs, deploy troops, and, if he wished, intervene directly in administration.
Liu Yu's intentions were clear: since Yuyang was already effectively under Zhang Xin's control, he might as well formalize it with an official title—hoping Zhang Xin would remain cooperative and govern responsibly.
"I will certainly live up to the governor's trust!"
Overcome with emotion, Zhang Xin bowed deeply in the direction of Guangyang County. The gesture signified his acceptance of Liu Yu as his superior. From this moment on, it was no longer appropriate to address Liu Yu casually—this bow marked Zhang Xin's formal submission.
Wei You smiled, stroking his beard, and stepped forward to help him up.
In truth, Zhang Xin had not yet received an official pardon from the imperial court, making Liu Yu's recruitment technically illegitimate. Yet, persuaded by Wei You and wary of Zhang Xin's growing power—especially after his pacification of Liaoxi—Liu Yu chose to appease rather than confront him.
Issuing a conscription order served multiple purposes: it stabilized Yuyang and placed Zhang Xin within a formal hierarchy, leaving a political "mark" on him.
During the Han Dynasty, advancement relied heavily on recommendation. Without a patron, even a talented individual might never obtain office. As a result, gratitude toward one's benefactor became deeply ingrained—almost obsessive.
By appointing Zhang Xin, Liu Yu became his patron. Even if Zhang Xin held the position briefly, he would forever be considered Liu Yu's former subordinate. In such relationships, loyalty was expected absolutely; failure to repay a benefactor's favor was seen as disloyalty.
This dynamic was not uncommon. One key reason Yuan Shao gained control of Ji Province was that its governor, Han Fu, had once served under the Yuan family. A single letter from a former patron could compel even powerful officials to yield their territory.
For Liu Yu, recruiting Zhang Xin brought only advantages. As for whether Zhang Xin fully understood these unwritten rules, Wei You was unconcerned—ambition alone would teach him in time.
"I shall take my leave now," Wei You said with a chuckle. "I trust you will govern Yuyang well and not disappoint the governor or the court."
"Of course," Zhang Xin replied, personally escorting him ten miles outside the city—a mark of great respect.
Afterward, Zhang Xin sighed with emotion. "Two months of hardship have finally paid off. My journey across eight hundred miles of desolate land was not in vain."
Guan Yu stroked his beard, a trace of envy in his eyes. "Now that you've received official recognition, you should serve the country well."
"Brother Yun Chang," Zhang Xin said with a slight smile, "now that I have the governor's favor, securing your pardon should not be difficult. The Wuhuan may be defeated, but the Xianbei remain. We need a hero like you."
He continued, "I know your past. Though you've rendered service, you lack reputation—and carry a charge of murder. Elsewhere, few would accept you."
Guan Yu fell silent.
Zhang Xin spoke the truth. As a fugitive, he had even changed his courtesy name to avoid capture. Unable to reveal his identity, he had lived in obscurity, his ambitions unfulfilled.
"If I become Prefect of Yuyang," Zhang Xin added, "I will petition for your pardon and appoint you as a military clerk. With that, your future will be open."
Guan Yu hesitated.
His bond with Liu Bei was still young, built more on shared ideals than deep history. Liu Bei himself was not yet a figure of renown—his followers were little more than a band of wandering fighters.
By contrast, Zhang Xin offered legitimacy, status, and recognition.
Under Liu Bei, Guan Yu had gained little beyond survival. Under Zhang Xin, he had tasted real battle and achievement. Moreover, Zhang Xin had treated him generously—offering food, respect, even overlooking his attempt at assassination.
Was this not the better path?
After a long moment, Guan Yu made his decision.
"My brother has shown me kindness as heavy as a mountain. How could I betray him?" he said firmly. "Since you believe this humble body of mine still has use, I will follow your command from now on."