Liu Hong returned to Deyang Palace in high spirits.
He had just sat down to dine when a eunuch came to report that Xu Xiang, Minister of Works, was requesting an audience.
"He's clearly determined to block Zhang Xin from being made a county marquis," Liu Hong said irritably to Zhang Rang.
In truth, he found the title of Marquis of Xuanwei quite fitting.
Zhang Rang chuckled softly. "He does not know of the relationship between Your Majesty and Zhang Xin. A former rebel, newly entered into officialdom, being granted a county marquis title in less than a year—how could the great families accept that?"
Liu Hong nodded slightly, then asked, "In your view, Father, should Zhang Xin be granted the title?"
Zhang Rang leaned closer and lowered his voice.
"This servant would not dare presume. It is for Your Majesty to decide. However… a county marquis title would fully display Your Majesty's boundless grace. A lesser title, on the other hand…" He paused meaningfully. "It is not that Your Majesty is unwilling to reward him—but that the scholars will not accept it."
Liu Hong immediately understood. A smile spread across his face.
"You…" he said, pointing at Zhang Rang with amusement. "Then how do we let Zhang Xin understand this?"
"The General-in-Chief seems intent on recruiting him," Zhang Rang reminded him.
Liu Hong nodded. "Very well. Let Xu Xiang enter."
Meanwhile, in Yuyang—
The day after Budugen and the others arrived, Zhang Xin sent orders to open the passes and begin distributing grain.
After all, most of the grain came from Liu Yu—Zhang Xin felt no particular attachment to it.
Following Gu Yong's calculations, grain was issued in seven-day allotments, distributed once every week. This ensured that if the Xianbei made any sudden moves, their supply could be cut off immediately.
With that settled, Zhang Xin left troops to guard the passes and recalled Guan Yu, Zhao Yun, and others so they could return to Yuyang and celebrate the New Year.
At the same time, he issued a proclamation allowing all prefectures to reopen their gates and let the people return home.
With the Xianbei leaderless and dependent on Han provisions, the likelihood of another raid was minimal.
News of victory had already spread across Youzhou. When the order to reopen the cities arrived, joy swept through the land.
As Zhang Xin walked the streets, he could hear praise everywhere.
Snow drifted gently from the sky. Watching it fall, Zhang Xin felt a quiet sense of reflection.
Just a year ago, he had been a fugitive—leading five thousand men, struggling to survive in the bitter cold.
Now, he was a high official with a salary of two thousand shi, his name known across Youzhou.
Even the remnants of the Yellow Turbans once entrusted to him by Zhang Bao were now living stable lives.
"The court must be discussing my ennoblement by now…"
A faint smile touched his lips.
In the following days, generals stationed at the passes—Zuo Bao, Guan Yu, Gao Shun, Xianyu Yin, and others—returned to Yuyang.
Zhang Xin hosted a grand banquet, rewarded them generously, and granted leave for the New Year.
Even the soldiers stationed at the frontier received additional rewards.
The next day, while Zhang Xin was reading, Wang Meng came to report:
"My lord, General Zilong requests an audience."
"Did he say why?" Zhang Xin asked.
Wang Meng shook his head. "He only said it was important."
Zhang Xin frowned slightly and went to the hall.
Zhao Yun was already waiting. Upon seeing him, he rose and bowed.
"No need for formalities," Zhang Xin said, taking his seat. "What brings you here, Zilong?"
Zhao Yun sat and spoke directly.
"I have come to discuss your system of rewards."
Zhang Xin blinked. "Do you think my rewards are too meager?"
"No," Zhao Yun replied calmly. "They are too generous."
Zhang Xin was momentarily speechless.
Too generous?
Zhao Yun continued, "Your Excellency's kindness is admirable. But throughout history, rewards and punishments must be balanced."
"In times of abundance, generous rewards are appropriate. But if famine comes and the treasury is empty—what then? If rewards are reduced, the soldiers may grow resentful."
He paused, then added:
"To reward without measure is to diminish the value of gratitude."
Zhang Xin fell silent.
The words struck home.
Half of Yuyang's prosperity now depended on the spoils of war. With only six thousand troops, he could afford generosity—for now.
But what about the future?
Armies would grow. Territories would expand. Not every region would be as wealthy as Yuyang.
Could he sustain such rewards indefinitely?
Too much generosity today could breed dissatisfaction tomorrow.
"If not for Zilong's reminder," Zhang Xin said slowly, "I might have made a grave mistake."
He looked up. "Do you have a solution?"
Zhao Yun shook his head. "I do not. But I have a friend—Xiahou Lan. His family is versed in legal matters, and he is skilled in military law. The principle I mentioned comes from him."
"If Your Excellency is willing, I can write to invite him."
Zhang Xin's eyes lit up.
A man valued by Zhao Yun could not be ordinary.
More importantly—this recommendation meant Zhao Yun truly regarded him as a worthy lord.
"Someone of Zilong's regard deserves more than a letter," Zhang Xin said with a smile. "I will appoint him as a Military Supervisor. Give me his address—I will send for him at once."
Zhao Yun smiled faintly. "Thank you, my lord."
The order was written and dispatched immediately.
Days passed, and soon New Year's Eve arrived.
Zhang Xin invited Cai Yong's family, and for the first time since arriving in this world, he celebrated a proper New Year.
He had a household. A teacher. Companions.
Only one absence lingered in his heart—
Zhang Bao was no longer there.
On New Year's Day, officials came to pay their respects. Zhang Xin distributed red envelopes and later visited the troops to offer his regards.
After that, life settled into quiet routine—reading, reflecting, waiting.
On the seventeenth day of the first month—
Lü Bu arrived in Luoyang, escorting Kui Tou and the other Xianbei leaders.
The next act of the game was about to begin.