Zhao Yun instinctively wanted to shake Zhang Xin off.
But noticing that the young man had come from the inner quarters, he assumed he must be someone close to the lord of the residence. Holding back his reaction, Zhao Yun steadied himself.
"I am Zhao Yun."
He took a step back, gently freeing his arm, then bowed politely. Looking at Zhang Xin's youthful face, he asked,
"I have come in response to the invitation of the Protector of the Wuhuan. May I ask, young sir, where is the Protector?"
Zhang Xin smiled.
"That would be me."
So young?
Zhao Yun froze for a moment.
On his journey here, he had imagined Zhang Xin in many ways—perhaps fierce and imposing, or perhaps cunning and sinister. But never had he expected that this renowned Yellow Turban leader of Youzhou would be such a youthful, handsome figure who had not even fully come of age.
Seeing Zhao Yun's stunned expression, Zhang Xin scratched his head awkwardly.
"How about you wait a moment, Zilong? I'll go change into my official robes before coming out to meet you properly."
He gave an embarrassed smile.
"I've long admired your reputation. Meeting you today made me so excited that I forgot all about proper etiquette. I hope you can forgive my rudeness."
Zhao Yun looked at him more closely.
Zhang Xin was still dressed in his inner garments, his hair loose and slightly messy—as if he had just risen from an afternoon nap. His feet were dusty, and he had even forgotten to put on his shoes.
Zhao Yun felt a sudden stir in his heart.
In the Han Dynasty, etiquette was taken extremely seriously. If two men of equal standing met like this, it would be considered disrespectful. But Zhang Xin was a high official with a salary of two thousand shi, while Zhao Yun was merely an unknown commoner.
This was not rudeness.
This was sincerity—an eagerness to welcome talent and a sign of genuine respect.
"I did not expect to meet General Ming in person like this," Zhao Yun said, bowing deeply. "Zhao Yun of Changshan greets General Ming."
In those times, it was said that rulers chose their ministers, but ministers also chose their rulers.
Zhao Yun had come not only to fight the northern tribes and bring peace, but also to observe for himself. If Zhang Xin proved to be a worthy lord, he would serve him. If not, he would simply return home.
But now—
This high-ranking official had rushed out barefoot to greet him.
How could Zhao Yun not be moved?
Along his journey, he had seen chaos everywhere—bandits, suffering, unrest. Yet upon entering Yuyang, the land was peaceful, the people content.
Even the air seemed lighter.
Much of his prejudice quietly faded, replaced by growing respect.
"Please rise," Zhang Xin said, stepping forward to help him up. "Now that Zilong has come to Yuyang, I assume you are willing to answer my call?"
"I am willing to serve General Ming," Zhao Yun replied with a formal salute.
"Good! Good! Good!"
Zhang Xin repeated it three times, unable to hide his joy.
"I have long admired you and have much to discuss, but you've traveled far and must be tired. Go and rest first. Tonight, I will host a banquet in your honor."
"At that time, I'll introduce you to all the generals."
"Thank you, General Ming."
Zhang Xin called over a clerk to escort Zhao Yun to his quarters. Once Zhao Yun had left, he remained standing in the hall—
and suddenly burst into a grin.
"Zhao Yun! My idol! He actually came! And he's so handsome!"
He was practically vibrating with excitement.
Back when he tried to recruit Guan Yu, it had taken elaborate persuasion—appeals to righteousness, even symbolic gestures—just to get him to agree temporarily.
But now?
With just a single recruitment order, Zhao Yun had come all the way on his own.
No effort required.
That was the power of legitimacy.
After a while, Zhang Xin composed himself.
Now that he held an official post, he no longer needed to flatter great figures of history. Treat them with respect as equals, and they would respond in kind.
"Four years…" he murmured, stepping outside and looking up at the sky. "I wonder how far I can go in that time."
That evening, Zhang Xin hosted a grand banquet and introduced Zhao Yun to the other generals.
Zhao Yun conducted himself with courtesy and humility, while the Yellow Turban generals were straightforward and warm. The atmosphere quickly became lively, and the group got along well.
The next day, Zhang Xin appointed Zhao Yun as a cavalry officer, rewarded him with money, and arranged a residence for him in the new city.
Since Zhao Yun was still new and unproven, Zhang Xin assigned him one hundred cavalrymen under Zuo Bao's command. If he performed well, he would be promoted.
Even so, Zhao Yun was deeply moved.
He had not expected such generous treatment without having achieved anything yet.
A few days later, news arrived—Zhang Liao had come.
After meeting both Guan Yu and Zhao Yun, Zhang Xin remained calm this time. But Zhang Liao was stunned upon seeing him.
They were nearly the same age—born in the same year, only months apart.
Yet one was already a high official commanding a region.
Zhang Liao felt deep admiration.
Zhang Xin greeted him warmly, repeatedly calling him "Brother Wenyuan," which greatly moved Zhang Liao. He was then appointed as a military officer, given rewards, housing, and one hundred cavalrymen under Zuo Bao.
Zhang Liao bowed in gratitude.
Soon after, reports came from Hejian: Zhang He had declined the invitation, and Gao Lan could not be found.
Zhang Xin didn't mind.
Disappointment was part of life. Given his past as a rebel, it was only natural some would hesitate.
With Zhao Yun and Zhang Liao already under him, Zhang He was not urgently needed.
In early July, the Zhen family finally arrived.
They had delayed due to selecting suitable personnel for managing trade. Over a hundred people came, led by Zhen Nan.
After reviewing their arrangements, Zhang Xin handed them over to Xianyu Fu and Tian Kai, then briefly spoke with the young Zhen Yu.
Only fifteen, the boy still seemed intimidated by Zhang Xin.
Amused, Zhang Xin dropped formalities and assigned him to the accounting office to gain experience.
With the Zhen family in place, Zhang Xin immediately began organizing resources.
He kept 100,000 sheep—matching the textile factory's production capacity.
Of the warhorses, he retained 8,000: 6,000 active and 2,000 reserve. This allowed flexibility—either a 6,000 cavalry force or 3,000 double-mounted riders.
The rest were handed to the Zhen family for trade.
Then came the opening of border markets.
By the end of July, things finally stabilized.
At the start of the eighth month, Guan Yu's family arrived.
Zhang Xin met Lady Hu and the young Guan Ping, who was round-faced and adorable. After brief formalities, he sent them to Guan Yu's residence to avoid impropriety.
Watching them leave, Zhang Xin chuckled to himself.
"I wonder if the Hu family and the Zhou family will clash…"
Shaking his head, he muttered, "I must be too idle."
Soon after, he went to inspect the troops in the new city.
But just as he arrived, a report came—
Gao Shun had been found.
Zhang Xin's eyes lit up.
At this critical moment, it was like receiving help in the midst of a snowstorm.
Through experience, he had realized that modern training methods alone were insufficient. True battlefield strength came from formations and coordination—things he and his generals lacked.
But Gao Shun—
Gao Shun knew them.
"The man who trained the famed 'Trapped Camp'…"
Zhang Xin grew excited.
"Where is he? Take me to him immediately!"
Back at the prefectural hall, over ten young men stood waiting.
Zhang Xin paused.
"Why are there so many?"
"The Prefect has arrived!" the clerk announced.
The group straightened, forming ranks behind one man at the front.
He was tall—nearly 1.9 meters—with sharp features and a strong build.
Zhang Xin blinked.
Gao Shun… is this handsome?
"You are Gao Shun?" he asked, stepping forward.
The young man looked equally surprised.
"You are the Protector of the Wuhuan?"
Zhang Xin frowned slightly, but raised a hand to stop the clerk from scolding him.
"It's fine," he said calmly. Then he repeated, "You are Gao Shun?"
The young man snapped to attention and bowed deeply.
"Lu Bu of Jiuyuan pays his respects to General Ming!"