A man in his early thirties sat casually in the hall.
Though dressed simply, he carried the unmistakable bearing of one long accustomed to power.
A eunuch stood quietly at his side.
So this is Emperor Ling—Liu Hong… Zhang Xin thought. And that eunuch—Zhang Rang, or Zhao Zhong?
He had met Zhang Rang before, though he didn't realize it. This time, to avoid recognition, Liu Hong had deliberately summoned Zhao Zhong instead.
Zhang Xin recalled the court etiquette he had learned. Lowering his gaze, he stepped forward carefully, stopped at the proper distance, lifted his robe, and bowed.
"Your subject, Zhang Xin, pays respects to Your Majesty."
"No need for formalities. Rise," Liu Hong said with a faint smile.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Come closer." Liu Hong beckoned. "Bring him a seat."
An attendant placed a cushion before him. Zhang Xin bowed again before kneeling.
"Raise your head. Let me have a good look."
Zhang Xin complied, taking the chance to observe the emperor.
Liu Hong's complexion was pale, his eyes slightly sunken—signs of long indulgence. Yet beneath the relaxed smile, there lingered an unmistakable authority.
"He is handsome and valiant… my cousin has good taste," Liu Hong said, clearly pleased. "If I recall correctly, you are nineteen this year?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Born in the second year of Jianning."
"Not yet of age, yet you've defeated the Wuhuan, pacified the Xianbei, and escaped encirclement unscathed—capturing even the rebel leader's family."
He leaned forward slightly. "Tell me in detail—how did you fight in Liangzhou?"
Zhang Xin recounted the campaign at length.
When he finished, Liu Hong laughed. "You have the bearing of Wei Qing and Huo Qubing! Tell me—what reward do you desire?"
"This is my duty. I dare not ask for rewards," Zhang Xin replied respectfully. "Moreover, Your Majesty has already granted me the title of Marquis of Xuanwei."
"That title pertains to your role in the campaign," Liu Hong waved it off. "You also created punctuation and presented printing methods—those merits remain unrewarded."
He paused, then said, "How about this? I appoint you as a Gentleman Attendant. Remain by my side from now on."
The position was prestigious—close to the emperor, influential despite lacking direct power.
But Zhang Xin immediately understood the true intent:
He wants to strip me of my military command.
"Your Majesty," Zhang Xin said quickly, "those small inventions are unworthy of mention. Your pardon alone is a debt I cannot repay."
"I only wish to remain on the northern frontier, to serve the court and repay Your Majesty's grace."
He bowed deeply.
"You wish to remain in the frontier… forever?"
Liu Hong's expression darkened instantly.
"Are you trying to win the hearts of Youzhou and raise another rebellion?"
At his words, armored guards surged out, surrounding Zhang Xin with drawn blades.
Zhang Xin's heart lurched. He immediately pressed his forehead to the ground.
"Your subject would never dare! When I once lay near death, I survived only through others' aid. Joining the Yellow Turbans was merely to repay that kindness—I had no other intentions!"
"Since arriving in Youzhou, I have endured hardship, crossed mountains and snow, all to suppress the barbarians and bring peace. I beg Your Majesty to understand!"
Silence filled the hall.
Cold sweat soaked Zhang Xin's back as blades glinted around him.
Only now did he fully grasp what it meant to serve a ruler as one serves a tiger—one moment rewarded, the next threatened with death.
After what felt like an eternity, Liu Hong finally spoke.
"I've heard you promised Zhang Bao to marry Zhang Jiao's daughter. Is that true?"
"It is," Zhang Xin answered.
"And how am I to trust you?"
"I did so only to repay a debt of gratitude and care for an orphaned girl. There is no ulterior motive."
"Repay a debt…?"
"Yes."
Liu Hong regarded him steadily.
"Very well. I'll give you a chance."
"I admire you. Break this engagement, and I will marry you into the imperial clan. You will become my son-in-law—and I will grant you high office."
Zhang Xin fell silent.
If this had been years ago, he might have agreed without hesitation.
But now—
To break the engagement would make him disloyal, unfilial, unjust, and untrustworthy. Among the scholar-officials, such a stain would ruin him forever.
And Liu Hong himself… how long would he even live?
A year? Perhaps less.
All that glory would vanish overnight.
Meanwhile, the former Yellow Turban followers would never forgive him. Assassination, betrayal—his life would become a nightmare.
Zhang Xin steadied himself.
"Your Majesty," he said slowly, "would you truly wish your subject to be disloyal, unfilial, unjust, and untrustworthy?"
Liu Hong's gaze sharpened.
"Even if I execute you now—you would not fear?"
"A man cannot stand without integrity!"
Zhang Xin raised his head, eyes resolute.
He was gambling—betting that in an empire rife with rebellion, the emperor would not kill a capable commander.
Liu Hong rose to his feet and stared down at him.
"If you agree to annul the engagement," he said coldly,
"I will appoint you General of the Guards—immediately."